#mm fluff

[pochipop]

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — A LITTLE LITTLE MORE LOVE.

#. synopsis! — sweet gestures from them to you .

#. characters! — hyun (zen), jumin, saeyoung (707), yoosung, jaehee .

#. warnings! — none .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — back in the mm pit because it's summer and it's time for my annual redownload <3 i've also been thinking about opening a discord, so if anyone has thoughts on that, i'd love to hear them! PLUS, i played the free demo for this indie otome-esque game on steam called homicipher, and i am begging for the release of the first chapter, idk if any of you have played it, but i am way too addicted for having only played like half an hour of it. anyway lolol, enjoy!!

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who buys bouquets of flowers every now and again on his way back home from rehearsals. He does his best to match the colors to your needs, —yellow on sad days in hopes they might lift your spirits, blue when you’re frustrated so that it might calm you down, etc.. They always smell so sweet, and you cherish them deeply. They always live longer than they typically should as a result of how well you care for them, and he loves to see the bashful smile tug at your lips as you accept them gracefully, even if you always tell him that he “really shouldn’t have” or that he “didn’t have to.” He does it because he loves you, and he thinks someone as beautiful as you should be presented with something just as gorgeous every now and again (even if he admittedly thinks you’re worlds prettier than flowers could ever be.)

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who writes little notes on the corner of the napkins he rests your coffee or tea on each morning, delicate and elegant handwriting in black ink sinking so perfectly into the ivory material. They’re never the same, always a different expression of his love or his admiration. You like to tear them off and keep them safe in a little box, and you open it up to read them when you’ve had a hard day or when you’re just not feeling your best. He always tells you that you don’t have to keep them, that he won’t be offended if you simply toss them away after you’ve read them and they’ve made you smile, —but you can never bring yourself to do it.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who folds little origamis for you when he gets the chance and leaves them somewhere around for you to find. It started with a tiny paper star he was folding for the heck of it, but you liked it so much that he decided to do it again, and again, and again. So now you have a neat little stash of different animals, shapes, and otherwise cool-looking creations (all of which have silly, blank expressions drawn onto them as faces that really add a sweetness to their personality.) You like to sit and fiddle with them every now and again, just to feel the sharp edges of the crane’s beak against your fingertips or to split the little heart apart and see the “i love you <3” written on the inside.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who buys sticky notes for his studies but ends up using most of them to leave you little notes with cute messages and silly doodles. He likes to think this is a better usage for them, especially when he watches you spot one out of the corner of his eye, and you hold it in your hands like it’s some kind of love-stricken poetry from a wordsmith he knows he’ll never be. They might be simple and straightforward, but there’s not much room for stanzas of prose on these little post-its, and reminders that you’re doing a good job or that you look cute are so much more than enough.

＃ JAEHEE !! ♡

Jaehee, who bakes you little desserts for you to eat when you get home, often heart-shaped or dusted in romantic colors, —always in your favorite flavors. Cookies with little jam hearts in the center, cupcakes with heart sprinkles and a cream just to your liking filling up the inside; each and every one made with so much love that you can practically taste it on your tongue. There’s no one else she’d rather bake for, and no one else she’d rather spend the rest of her days with. Sometimes words are hard to come by, and she worries she won’t always get it right, but when you kiss her on the cheek before taking a bite of her treats, well. . . She thinks things will be alright anyway.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

In His Element

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: After watching Matt cross examine a witness, your patience is worn thin, leaving you to plead with the devil.

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fingering, brief masturbation, descriptions of fem genitalia, dom!Matt's filthy mind, and also him being so attractive

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER SMUT THAT WASN'T GHOST WRITTEN SO IT MIGHT NOT BE GREAT. I am going to keep practicing for y'all though! As always, please comment/reblog and leave me feedback if you desire :)

w/c: 3.5k

With clammy fingers, you smoothed your wrinkled skirt until it lay flat over your knees, crossing your ankles under the pew you were seated in. In your haste to find a seat before the trial resumed, you’d landed directly below an A/C vent, which was blowing a harsh current over you. The hair along your limbs stood on end, your heart pumping your blood in smaller loops, leaving your extremities to slowly wither. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but you were far too focused on the heat churning in your gut as your eyes followed your partner’s pacing form.

Hands stacked loosely over the handle of his cane, Matt’s head tilted slightly as he prepared to ask the prosecution’s witness a question. He was facing away from you, but you could imagine the exact emotionless-yet-somehow-haughty expression that graced his face. It was one of the attributes of your boyfriend’s stoic appearance that emerged behind the courtroom doors that you found mind-numbingly attractive.

“Officer Bauer,” Matt’s voice sent a shudder down your spine. Though the man wore a literal mask most nights, he had a variety of metaphorical personality-masks that suited various environments—his everyday polite demeanor, the protective and concerned boyfriend that always surfaced whenever you were threatened or hurt, and, notably, the serious, calculating attorney persona he adopted during his trials.

Biting your tongue to freeze your body in place, you inhaled slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. A quick glance to the jury confirmed that you were not the only one entranced by the dark-haired man as he strode back and forth, a few feet in front of the witness stand. He had you all captivated.

Shifting his weight to his heels, Matt was angled enough that you could see the innocent smile he directed at the man sweating on the stand. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the corner of 52nd and 8th on the afternoon of Thursday, March 6th?”

A simple question, innocuous enough that the callous man he was questioning let out an indignant scoff as he answered. ”Patrolling.“

You rolled your eyes at his single word response, his disdain for the judicial process evident in his slouched posture and bored tone. He was practically falling asleep in the worn leather chair, his half-lidded eyes trained on Matt like a dazed serpent. The man looked foul and, from the little that Matt had told you, his personality matched.

Despite the apathetic participant he was dealing with, Matt remained calm and composed. His smile widened marginally, revealing a flash of his pristine teeth as he huffed in amusement.

"Of course. And when you were on patrol you noticed the defendant amongst a group of young adults. Is that correct?"

Your chest was convulsing as your heart pounded from your rib cage. Matt was exceptionally intelligent and had explained his tactic for cross-examining this inattentive cop, but that didn't make it any less suspenseful as you watched his game of cat and mouse play out before your very eyes.

The officer's slitted eyes wandered to the ceiling as he sighed. "Yeah."

"Can you describe the group to me?" Matt lifted his shoulders as he posed the question, not quite shrugging, but definitely indicating that, while he believed the leathery-skinned witness had not yet satisfied his curiosity.

“Buncha kids. Messin around.” Four words rather than one. That was progress, right? Akin to the marble rolling down a track at the beginning of a complex Rube Goldberg machine. The task was far from accomplished, but there was motion somewhere within the structure.

“And, as your partner stated earlier, most of the kids were white, is that correct?” The first hint of something substantial. You pressed your lips together, holding in a smile as your mind started to piece together the rocky, cobblestone path your boyfriend was laying for his uncooperative witness.

“Yes.”

“What encouraged you and your partner to approach the defendant and other students in the park?” Tone laced with what sounded like genuine curiosity, Matt raised a brow at the arresting officer. His ability to color his voice in a way that would appeal to the jury never ceased to amaze you.

“We got news of a nearby break in, and they were actin' suspicious.”

At this point, you were pretty much tuning the lazy cop out—waiting for Matt to open his mouth again, to speak in the beautifully deep, almost hoarse way he always did when defending his clients. His words were direct, controlled in the same manner his general conduct was, his anger and need for justice hidden behind an expressionless facade.

It was intoxicating, his ability to hold back. Almost as divine as his ability to let go.

“Can you describe these suspicious activities for the court?”

Fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of your skirt, you let Matt's voice drape over you like a wool blanket on a winter night. Comforting, warm, and a tad prickly. Only ears as finely tuned to the man's peculiarities could pick up the barbed edge of his questioning—thousands of serrated teeth waiting to ensnare the animal as soon as it was within their grasp. Knowing how talented your partner was in his field, that moment wasn't far away.

The chair creaked as the cop shifted with a hefty shrug. “Ya know, talkin' all low to each other, shovin' things in their bags while lookin' over their shoulder...” He trailed off, mashing a fist against his nose with an awful throat clearing sound.

“And, while on your patrol, you noticed the group acting this way.” More of a statement than a question. Matt was closing in.

“Yea, that’s what I just said.” The cop snorted, completely unaware of the brutal fate that awaited him.

“So you and your partner decided to intervene?” Matt reasoned aloud. He was pacing again. Your attention had been solely on his voice, not his footsteps.

“Course that’s our job.” The ignorant man to the right of the judge shifted again in his seat, his frustration visibly growing as Matt continued to hurl benign and repetitive questions at him.

“And when you exited your vehicle, what happened?” Matt asked.

“They took off.” Bauer answered, irritated.

“On foot?” Matt clarified.

“Yes.” The witness rubbed forcefully at the bridge of his nose again.

“And it’s true that my client left with them?” Gesturing softly to the young woman seated at the defense's table to indicate to the room who his client was, in case they needed a reminder.

 “Yes.” Bauer confirmed.

“So the entire group dispersed on foot?” Matt asked with an air of confusion. His rumbling baritone lifting on the tail end to indicate his dismay.

“Yep.” Bauer grit his teeth, tiring quickly as Matt persisted.

“At the same time?” Matt asked with the same bewildered look on his face.

“Yes.” His witness growled.

“The same group that was acting in a suspicious manner?” Matt questioned.

“Yes. I just said that.” Voice raising, you could see Bauer's face getting redder by the second.

“Then can you tell me, Officer Bauer, why you and your partner BOTH decided to pursue my client?”

Bauer's eyes flashed with something similar to understanding, his mouth remaining clamped shut as Matt stepped closer, closing in on his prey.

“You’ve previously reported and just now confirmed that the entire group left when they noticed you approaching. Yet you and your partner both were solely focused on my client rather than any of the other members of the group. Tell me, officer, is that because of her race?” Matt's words flew out of his mouth rapidly, a string of poorly concealed accusations within them.

You barely had time to appreciate Matt's ingenuity before the lead prosecutor bolted out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor, that is clearly leading."

"Sustained. Counselor?" The judge glanced at Matt for his next move.

Holding up a hand, Matt didn't miss a beat. “I’ll rephrase. Officer, what reason did you have for pursuing my client rather than any of the other students?”

"Well, she was acting weird," Bauer stammered, his eyes bulging with fear. He'd spotted the threat then.

“In the same manner as the rest of the group, as you previously stated, all of whom you approached with your partner. Yet both of you ran after my client.”

“Yes.” Nodding cautiously, Bauer's voice was suddenly small.

“And, besides her race, can you give any other reason she stood out to you as more suspicious than the rest of the group?”

“Objection, leading.” The prosecution called out, her voice a bit shrill with desperation.

"Overruled. Mr. Murdock, please continue with your line of questioning." The judge's gaze flitted between the prosecutor and the witness who was now sweating profusely on the stand.

“Thank you, your honor. Officer Bauer, can you explain to the court exactly how my client was acting differently?” Changing the question slightly, Matt's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.

“I don’t know, she, she just was!” Bauer cried, flustered.

“Is there any other difference between her and the rest of the group that you can explicitly state other than her appearance or her race?” Matt asked, cheeks twitching as he gleefully listened to the snare clasp around its victim.

“No.” Bauer answered. "But, but it wasn't like that!"

Turning to the judge, Matt's spine was straight with satisfaction as he announced his intentions. “Your honor, the defense would like to file a motion to dismiss this case on the grounds of selective enforcement. The combined testimony of Officers Bauer and Burke demonstrates an intent to frisk my client because she was black, not solely because of her actions, negating the principle of reasonable suspicion.”

The courtroom exploded, the witness and prosecution both howling in protest as the defendant and Matt both smirked. Grinning ecstatically, you stifled a laugh as the uproar continued, until the judge finally granted the dismissal. You couldn’t lessen your smile if you tried. 

Flooding out of the courtroom amidst the sea of spectators and journalists, you stepped out of the current as quickly as you could. Craning your neck over the waves of bobbing heads, you broke into a wide grin when you saw Matt trailing after the masses, cane sweeping inches from their ankles like he was chasing them out. As soon as he was within reach, you called his name, eagerly grasping his outstretched hand and tugging him out of the doorway.

“God, Matty, that was incredible.” You exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping him in a tight hug. His forehead landed against your hair, his nose skimming the shell of your ear as he shook with a resonant chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, a guttural noise slipping out as he did. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

His words were barely audible, a secret to only be shared with you. They sent another wave of need straight to your core. “Matthew,” You mumbled, his name breaking off into a whine.

Another huff of laughter sounded in your ear. Planting another kiss against your neck, Matt's broad hands squeezed your hips. “My place. Now.”

“What about you?” You murmured, mouth watering as every touch from your boyfriend left a lingering patch of heat along your skin.

“I have a few things to finish up here, but I'll be there when I can. I promise.” You didn't need to hear his heartbeat to feel the honesty in his vow.

The idea of waiting for him made your knees tremble, the joints threatening to buckle as Matt swiped a calloused thumb over the bare skin of your waist, his hand beneath your shirt. “Matty, please.”

Matt shushed you sweetly. “Not here, angel. Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

With one final squish of your hips, Matt separated from you.

The walk to Matt’s apartment was excruciating. With each step, the throbbing between your legs grew more intense. By the time you’d made it up the stairs and flopped onto his couch, you were practically panting with want. 

Now, you were desperately trying to focus on your book, but the words on the page might as well have been gibberish given how little you'd retained since you started. How were you supposed to manage when the image of Matt's parted lips was branded on the back of your eyelids.

“Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

Patience was never your strongsuit.

Digging your front teeth into your lip, you dropped your head to the arm of Matt's couch with a thunk, whimpering as your discomfort crested. Blowing out a breath, you clenched the paperback book with vigor, fingernails stabbing the parchment inside, scarring it with tiny crescents. If only this book was Matt's broad back.

He loved when you got a little rough with him. You couldn't help it. As soon as his mouth was on you, your eyes shut, vision blanketed with stars. Your hands would grapple for whatever surface they could find to anchor you as Matt rocked the two of you in tandem, your nails carving scratches into Matt's beautiful, sporadically-freckled skin in the process.

The first time it happened, you'd been horrified. Stammering out an apology and offering to apply antibiotic gel to the red marks, but your boyfriend had just smiled, assuring you that he didn't mind.

“Each of those marks is a reminder that I'm yours, sweetheart.”

Arching your back as Matt's dulcet tone echoed in your ears, the book toppled to the ground with a flutter of pages. Hands wandering over your body, you reminded yourself to be patient.

Matt will be here soon. He will.

But not soon enough. A voice buried somewhere in your subconscious warned, encouraging your primal desires and urging your hands to free the hem of your blouse from where it was tucked beneath the waistband of your skirt. Fingertips trailing over the now-exposed skin of your lower belly, you hummed softly as a ripple of pleasure circled out from your fingertips.

Unbuttoning your skirt, you slowly loosened the fabric enough for your hand to dip under it. Dragging a finger over your panties towards your core, you hissed as it finally reached your delicate clit. The bundle of nerves was overly sensitive after being ignored for so long. Pulling the cotton aside, you pushed your finger between your folds, smiling as it danced over your clit. Circling it carefully with a single finger, you shuddered as your body began to buzz with a familiar thrill.

Rocking your hips into your hand slowly, you could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears—which meant that the slam of a closing door caught you off guard.

Yanking your hand out of your underwear with a yelp, you sat up, frantically jerking your head towards the door.

“I thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart.” Matt's face was shrouded by an array of shadows, the glint of his malicious smirk tinted red in the light of his living room window.

“I—I was!” You mumbled, arousal seeping into your panties as Matt stalked towards you with a laugh.

“You know I can tell when you're lying, sweets. Want to try that again?”

“Depends,” You retorted, adrenaline reigniting the confidence Matt always brought out in you. “Are you planning on apologizing for being so late?”

Chuckling sinfully, Matt cornered you against the back of the couch, fingers deftly unlooping the fabric of your skirt from the remaining buttons. Leaning down until your lips were practically touching, his mouth glanced against yours as he spoke, ignoring your question. "Do you know how difficult it is to remain coherent when you've clouded the entire courthouse in your scent?"

"W-what?" You stammered, gasping shallowly when Matt's teeth grazed the underside of your jaw, his lips kissing languidly along your neck.

"Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? Wanted me to take you right there on the floor before the jury?" Matt purred, making your cheeks thrum with bashful heat.

"I'm not the only one who wanted that, it seems." You grinned, cupping your hand over the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I can't help it, Matt. Watching you in your element...you're intoxicating. I can't listen to two words out of your mouth without wanting to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

Palming his cock through the layers he wore, Matt growled into the skin of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Static ricocheted from the impact, freezing you in place as your thighs flexed.

Shedding you of your skirt, Matt gently caressed the cotton covering your drenched pussy. “Can I—”

“Please,” You begged, choking in a breath before Matt's mouth crashed against yours. His stubble bristled against your skin, the small pinpricks a pleasant contrast to his plush lips. Tearing the remaining clothes from your legs, Matt threw his leg over your torso, encouraging you to fully recline against the leather. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other was splayed across your mound, a single dextrous finger parting your glistening lips.

He tasted like salt, like want. His tongue lapping at you like he needed to swallow you whole, like he couldn't get enough.

His cheeks ruffled as a strangled moan escaped him. “You're this wet for me, sweetheart?”

“All for you.” You panted, the air between you growing thick with feverish heat. “Always for you.”

With a beautiful grin, Matt's finger swiped over your entrance. “You ready?”

Nodding sloppily, you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, tugging him back to your lips. Mouth colliding with yours, the force became bruising when your body rutted upwards, a jolt of satisfaction striking your every cell as Matt's finger entered you.

You hissed as the familiar pleasant pain washed over you. Arching your back as Matt pumped his digit upwards, you moaned, clapping a hand over your mouth as the sound escaped you. 

Matt chuckled. “No need to be quiet, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.”

“So g-good, Matty.” You whimpered, every nerve within your folds quivering as Matt dragged his finger out of you, pushing it in again as he scraped his teeth over your neck. You cried out, vision going black as your body strained to find release. Your fingers dug into the silk beneath you, yanking at the sheets.

As your desperation grew, the rest of your limbs faded into numbness, your brain solely focused on the sensations of Matt’s callouses scraping against your walls—as if he was scratching an itch that had been niggling at you for hours. 

Matt hummed against your throat, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you yelp. The fire within you was out of control, your body drawn taught like the string of a bow. 

Wriggling slightly beneath his touch, your breaths became shallow, your stamina worn thin after watching him in court. You whined, twisting slightly to avoid launching yourself over the alluring edge into heavenly oblivion. 

“So close already, sweets?” He teased, repeatedly strumming the bundle of nerves. 

You moaned in assent, fisting the blankets in your clammy hands. His thick fingers tangled in your hair, giving your locks a tug and drawing a pleased yelp from your mouth. 

“Go on. Come for me.” Matt rasped, his breath fanning over your face. 

The command shoved you over the cliff, your lungs clenching as you stifled a scream. Your tailbone rutted up, your back arching off the mattress. Everything went white, your ears ringing as sheer pleasure coursed through your veins.

Matt was murmuring to you, his words muddled by the blood rushing in your ears. “–at’s my girl. Always such a good girl.” 

Rounding the peak, you collapsed to the mattress, your body trembling viciously. Each beat of your heart shook your rib cage, the motions rippling throughout your limbs. Hands flexing, you hissed as the muscles stretched out of mashed fists. Cupping Matt’s cheeks, you smiled as he eagerly dipped to kiss you. 

“Good?” He asked, the question punctuated by the noise of your lips pulling apart. 

“Fuck, Matty,” You whispered, head still swimming from the influx of oxytocin. “Yes. Yes, it was good. S-so good.” 

Withdrawing his hand from between your legs, Matt cradled you against his chest, brushing a thumb over your nape as your soul re-tethered. Lifting one wobbly leg, you shifted, attempting to throw the leaden weight over him, but Matt gently caught you by the thigh, encouraging you to relax. 

“What about you, love?” You asked, drawing in a harsh breath when Matt’s teeth nipped under your ear, his fingers already spreading your legs again.

“Later.” He huffed, his stiff length falling against your plush hip. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

[clowns0up-felix]

Drawing backgrounds and scene elements is so so hard,,,, man.

Domestic botw/tork Zelink has me in a chokehold (I usually don’t draw much domestic stuff is the thing)

The comic is something that happened in a dream of mine. It was only a very quick and short part of the dream but it stuck with me? Also,,, why are both images well-related what’s going on what??

Lastly, I was gonna draw something small for 500 followers bc I’m excited there’s so many of you but it felt too silly to do it so soon. I’ll draw something for 1k tho should we ever hit that!

[montymollusk]

i refuse to get into mouthwashing discourse but i feel like the ppl who write the tulpar crew (minus jimmy) as a quirky found family truly do not get the point of the game

ditto for what-if scenarios where daisuke or swansea find out about anya’s assault and “protect” her. You Do Not Get It Like I Get It

[obsessedwrhys]

The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)

Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly

can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))

Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother

Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them

-🌑

I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader

ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)

Parts: 2

With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.

Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.

"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.

"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.

"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.

"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.

"Hey... take it easy—"

"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"

"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"

"I fucking said what I said!"

"Fuck you!"

"FUCK YOU!!"

The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.

"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."

"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.

For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.

However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.

Even though you convince yourself you were happier.

You never felt secure.

You always felt like something was out to get you.

Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?

You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.

"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.

"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.

"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.

"Thank you"

Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.

"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.

"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.

You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.

Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.

....

"Will it work?"

........

"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"

...........

"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"

...............

"Yes sir"

.....................

"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"

...............................

Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.

You were... in a cage?

You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.

"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.

It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.

"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.

"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.

"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.

"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.

"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"

Powers? You have to be high right?

Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?

Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?

"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.

Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.

"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.

As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.

"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.

"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.

"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.

Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...

"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.

Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.

"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.

"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.

Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.

"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.

Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.

But why is this happening?

Why you?

The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.

"So... did you like my gift?"

"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.

"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.

His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.

"What do you want from me?"

"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.

"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.

"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.

"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.

Fuck... this cannot be your life now...

You're now an animal kept in a cage.

Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.

You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.

"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.

"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"

"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.

"He knows I'm here?"

"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"

Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.

"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.

"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.

"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.

"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.

When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?

After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.

"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.

"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.

"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.

He did?

"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.

The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.

"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.

"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.

"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.

"Don't touch me"

"I got it"

The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?

"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.

"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.

"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.

Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.

"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.

"They can protect you"

"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"

"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.

"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.

"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.

"What the fuck did they do to you...?"

"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.

"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.

Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.

"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.

"Thank you..." You muttered.

After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.

"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.

"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.

"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"

"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.

"Do we go after them sir?"

"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.

(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)

[ambernotember]

a stupid mistake

I am going to blame @alchemistc and specifically this post for this. oh, and angst week. also on ao3

Tommy woke up to an empty bed. Normal. He stretched his arms out and was surprised to discover residual warmth on the other pillow. He pushed himself up to look at the other side of the bed. Pillow — indented. Sheets — in disarray. Fuck. It hadn’t been a dream.

Tommy was five shots deep already, on top of the beers he’d started with. He’d barely been at the bar for two hours. He was in his forties, for christssakes, drinking like a college kid away from home for the first time. He’d come to the bar in hopes of a distraction, maybe see some of his trivia buddies, but not wanting to appear so desperate for company that he’d actually texted anyone to see if they were planning to be there. He’d sat down at the bar to have a beer or two, chitchat with the bartenders he knew, spend a few hours out of the house. He’d nursed a beer for the first forty five minutes, and then they’d walked in.

Evan. And Ravi. They’d met a few times while Tommy had been dating Evan.

And now they were here, together. Evan, his arm around Ravi’s shoulders when they’d walked in. Evan, buying their drinks. Evan, leaning in close across the table to talk to Ravi, eyes glimmering, a smile on his face.

Tommy couldn’t get to the door without heading in their direction — neither of them had noticed him, seated in the back corner on the other side of the bar, the shelves of glasses and liquor bottles in the middle of the u-shaped bar hiding him from their view.

So. Another beer. And another. And another. God, couldn’t Evan just get up and go to the bathroom or something? Ravi was facing the wrong way to notice him, Tommy was sure he could sneak by.

So. Shots.

Lee, his favourite bartender, gave him a look when he ordered shots four and five.

“You didn’t drive here, did you? Do I need to confiscate your keys?”

Tommy shook his head. “Ubered. Worked too many wrecks to ever consider it.”

Lee poured him the shots. “Can I ask what brought on the heavy drinking?”

Tommy laughed humourlessly. “My ex is here. With someone else.”

“Yikes,” Lee hissed through their teeth. Lee poured him a sixth shot, then poured themself one and clinked glasses with Tommy. This was why Lee was his favourite. Understanding, and only judgmental about drunk driving. They drank their shots together. “Why aren’t you just leaving then? Not that the till minds your contribution.”

“Can’t get to the door without passing them.”

“Well shit,” Lee said, scooping up Tommy’s empties and depositing them in the sink. “Want me to get them thrown out?”

Tommy chuckled, small but genuine. “No, but thanks for the offer.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” Lee said, heading down the bar to take care of another customer. Tommy sipped his next shot, knowing it was just delaying the inevitable.

He finished shot five — six, technically, after the one Lee had shared with him — and was contemplating going back to beer. Nicer to his wallet, possibly his liver, but the rest of his body was definitely fucked for tomorrow.

“I thought that was you,” a familiar voice said next to him. He startled, and turned a little too fast to see Ravi leaning against the bar. “Buck and I have a table, you should come join us.”

Tommy had never wished so hard for a freak meteor to fall from outer space and kill him.

“Uh,” he said eloquently.

Lee swooped in. Yes, they’d save him.

“Are you the ex?” Lee asked, eyes narrowed. “Tommy said I couldn't throw you out but if you’re bothering him I will.”

Not a save. Just more embarrassment.

“The ex?” Ravi looked confused. “No, not the ex.”

“You’re not Evan?” Lee asked to clarify.

“No, I’m Ravi — wait, you and Buck broke up?”

Oh. That hurt more than expected.

“Yeah, after Halloween.” Tommy said gruffly.

Ravi’s eyebrows rose. “Wow, switch shifts and it’s like they forget you exist. I just got back on A shift,” he explained, seeing Tommy’s look. “I’ve been floating B and C since — well. Just after Bobby.”

Tommy nodded. Ravi hadn’t had to deal with Gerrard then. At least one of them had escaped unscathed.

“Well, that makes my invitation a little more awkward but… I really think you should join us.”

Lee placed a cup of water in front of Tommy. “I’m closing your tab,” they informed him kindly.

“I thought you liked me,” Tommy complained, drinking the water anyways.

“Look, Buck has seemed mopey all shift and I thought it was because of everything happening with Maddie and Eddie and Bobby but,” Ravi shook his head, “I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on now.”

Tommy tried to parse that, only to realize he hadn’t heard anything about the 118 in a while, and had absolutely no idea what Ravi was talking about. Lee refilled his water, which apparently he’d finished at some point. He pulled out his wallet, tapped his card to pay for his drink, and pulled two twenties out for Lee. He paused, and pulled out a third one. He wasn’t convinced the night wouldn’t end with either him or Evan or both of them getting thrown out of the bar. Might as well make someone’s night better.

Ravi ordered two of the beers on tap, as well as four shots. “What?” He asked when Tommy looked at him. “I’m ninety five percent sure it’s the best way to get him to talk and a hundred percent sure I’ll need it to deal with the two of you.”

Lee laughed as they took Ravi’s money.

“I’ll bring the drinks over, you two go sit,” Lee said.

“Traitor,” Tommy hissed as he followed Ravi away from the bar. Lee’s laugh followed him to the table where Evan and Ravi had been set up. Ravi slid into his previous seat, across from Evan, and Tommy hesitated briefly before taking the seat next to Ravi. There was no way he was going to sit next to Evan.

“What took so long?” Evan asked Ravi, before his eyes caught on Tommy. His eyes widened, mouth open with an unasked question.

Lee came over with a tray of their drinks, splitting the shots between Ravi and Evan, placing another water in front of Tommy when they put down the beers Ravi had ordered.

Evan grabbed one of the shots and downed it, then sputtered at the taste.

“Ravi, what the fuck is that?”

“Peanut butter whiskey,” Ravi said, unbothered, as he sipped his own shot.

“That’s… no. That’s not for shots,” Tommy said.

“Sorry I have taste buds,” Ravi shot back.

Evan took a sip of his beer and slid the other shot towards Tommy, who alternated it with the water. It was actually good whiskey, it just wasn’t meant for shots.

“So, how’s Eddie doing in Texas?” Ravi asked Evan, zero segue, and Tommy knew he was watching for Tommy’s reaction.

“Fine,” Evan muttered, playing with a coaster, eyes focused on the tabletop. “Lots of work to be done on the house. He’s trying to do it himself but I think he’s going to have to hire someone. He’s not that handy.”

“Chris staying with him yet?” Ravi pressed.

“Friday and Saturday nights. The rest of the time he’s still with his grandparents. You know, we talked about all of this at work. You can just tell him,” he jerked his chin towards Tommy. “You don’t need me to do that.”

Ravi sighed and turned towards Tommy. “So Eddie bought a house in El Paso and moved back to be closer to Chris, which is why I’m on A shift again. Bobby’s mom is apparently the leader of a mega church and a con artist, and we got called out to a scene at her church today. Oh, and Maddie got kidnapped by a serial killer and almost died, but she and the baby are fine now.”

“Are you fucking with me?” Tommy asked, not harshly, but even for the 118 that seemed like a lot.

“Oh, and Buck moved out of the loft and took over Eddie’s lease so he could go to Texas. Did I miss anything?” Ravi directed the last question to Evan.

“Denny got his cast off and should be able to play baseball this summer,” Evan added, still looking down.

“That all — that seriously all happened since November?” Tommy asked.

“Honestly, most of it was in the last month,” Ravi said.

The three of them fell into an awkward silence as Tommy tried to think of what to say to Evan. “I’m sorry” didn’t feel adequate, and “are you okay?” felt pretty heartless.

“So, what have you been up to?” Ravi asked Tommy, putting Evan’s focus back on him.

“Oh, uh, nothing much,” Tommy said, playing with the straw in his water glass. “Uh, fixed up two cars for a collector. Work. That’s pretty much it.”

Silence fell again.

“Well, you two are super fun,” Ravi said. “I’m getting more drinks.” He abandoned them to their awkwardness, heading for the bar even though his and Evan’s beers were barely half empty and he still had a shot.

Evan sucked in a breath then looked shocked when Tommy looked at him.

“Maddie’s really okay?” Tommy asked, thinking that was the safest thing to start with.

Evan nodded. “Physically, yeah. She’s still shaken up. She’s taking some time off work.”

“She and Howie are having another kid?”

“Yeah, uh, a boy,” Evan smiled down at his beer, avoiding eye contact with Tommy, but the smile was genuine. “Jee seems to think he’s going to be full grown, I think she’s only used to Denny as the idea of a brother, but she’s excited.”

“That’s great,” Tommy said softly.

Ravi returned with Lee and more shots — not peanut butter whiskey this time — and some of them were for Tommy this time, though Lee did still give him another water and a reproachful look that told him if he didn’t finish it, Lee wouldn’t be so nice the next time he came in.

They muddled through a surface level conversation, avoiding any more discussion of the topics Ravi had mentioned. More shots appeared at the table, and waters for all of them, not just Tommy. It was just past midnight when Ravi called it quits for the night, ordering an Uber and closing out his tab. Evan and Tommy waved as he left the table, sitting in comfortable silence before they both realized this wasn’t a normal night out for them. The awkwardness settled in quickly, and they pulled out their phones in near unison to get their own rides.

Evan groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked, on high alert after everything he’d heard from Ravi.

“Nothing, uh, my phone just died,” Evan said.

“My place isn’t that far from Eddie’s — from your place,” Tommy corrected, “we can share a ride and it can drop you home after me.”

Evan hesitated and looked at him, expression unreadable.

“Just a ride,” Tommy said.

“Okay,” Evan nodded, following him as Tommy stood up from the table and walked out of the bar. Evan had settled his tab when Ravi did, so they didn’t need to stop at the bar. Tommy saw Lee clock them walking out together, raising an eyebrow at him, an expression on their face that meant Tommy was definitely going to have to talk about this the next time he was there.

Maybe he’d find a new bar. Lots of places did trivia, after all.

The uber arrived quickly, and Tommy held the car door open for Evan. It wasn’t a small car, but their hands ended up brushing together in the backseat anyways.

Tommy wasn’t sure who started it, but before they’d gone three blocks, their fingers were firmly linked together and Evan was tracing patterns on the back of his hand. It was just a ride, Tommy reminded himself. He had this for another ten, maybe fifteen minutes, depending on the route and the lights. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be faster or longer. Either way it would drive him crazy.

When they pulled up to Tommy’s house — thirteen minutes, the shorter route but more red lights, his brain helpfully catalogued — Evan followed him out of the car, thanking the driver before he left.

“Can I come in?” Evan asked. Tommy’s heart flipped painfully. He told himself it was from the alcohol.

“Sure,” Tommy said, not mentioning when Evan linked their fingers together again as they walked up the front path.

“Want to plug your phone in?” Tommy asked, when they were standing in his living room.

Evan moved silently towards the side table where Tommy kept his charging cords, bending at the waist slightly to reach the cord. Tommy stared at his ass, the way he had when they were together. The alcohol had slowed his reflexes some, and he didn’t manage to tear his eyes away before Evan turned back around.

“Thank god,” Evan said, crossing the room to him and crashing their mouths together like he had when Tommy had shown up at the hospital for Howie and Maddie’s wedding. Tommy moaned in surprise, hands flying to Evan’s hips immediately, pulling him closer. Tommy’s awareness narrowed down to the points of contact between him and Evan, unable to think of anything else until Evan pulled back enough for them to take a breath.

“I wasn’t — I didn’t plan this,” Tommy said.

“Duh,” Evan scoffed. “I invited myself in.”

“This is just going to make things harder,” Tommy had to make him understand.

“It’s making something harder,” Evan said, a smirk on his face now.

“Evan,” Tommy tried again.

“Tommy,” Evan said back to him, a hint of mockery in his tone, but sounding overwhelming desperate.

Tommy could blame the alcohol running through his system, right? He could say he was doing this for Evan. It was what Evan needed.

When Evan reached for him again, he went willingly. They shed their clothes as they made their way through Tommy’s house to the bedroom, bumping into walls and picture frames. There was never less than two points of contact between them, Tommy’s skin alight with the heat rolling off of Evan.

They tumbled into bed holding each other closer than Tommy thought physically possible. Tommy felt like he was trying to burrow his way into Evan’s body, like he could meld them into one being and stay there forever. Was there a way he could keep this? Was there something he could say to take away the hurt he’d caused? Was there a way to keep Evan in his bed, in his life? Evan’s hands on his body brought him back from his thoughts, focused on the righthererightnow.

Buck slipped out of bed the next morning, silently collecting his clothes and his phone. Tommy was still asleep as he moved through the house, a ghost in a now unfamiliar place. It made it easier, almost, or so Buck told himself. He closed the front door carefully and ordered an Uber, setting the location to the coffee shop a block away, and the drop off point as Maddie’s house. He didn’t want to bother her but… he felt like she was the only person he could talk to.

Every step away from Tommy’s house made him feel heavier, like he was wearing his work gear in quicksand. He thought he’d feel… better about it, somehow. This time it was his choice to leave. With every house he passed his stomach roiled, not the feeling of a morning after heavy drinking but the feeling that something was wrong, that he’d made a mistake.

But Tommy had been the one to walk away first. Tommy had decided he wasn’t Buck’s last. Wasn’t Buck just… proving him right? Wasn’t that what he wanted?

Buck walked into the coffee shop and got a large coffee and a greasy breakfast sandwich for himself, a little pastry for Maddie to make up for dropping all this in her lap with no notice.

The driver was waiting for him when he left the shop, and he slid into the back seat, alone this time. He was silent on the drive, thanking the driver when they arrived. He was glad to see Chimney’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

He let himself in with his spare key and called a hello to Maddie. She was sitting in the kitchen, still in her pajamas, hands around a cup of coffee — Chimney had at least let up on that this time around. He handed her the pastry bag and sat across from her, hands still wrapped around his take out cup.

She looked down at what she clearly knew was a bribery pastry, then up at Buck.

“Buck? What’s going on?”

“Maddie, I did something stupid.”

It was fair, Tommy thought, that Evan was the one to walk away this time without letting Tommy say anything to stop him. He'd clearly seen that Tommy was right, had spent the night in Tommy’s little house, the garage the biggest part of it, and realized, yeah, Tommy wasn’t his last. Tommy had been right. Tommy had been right that Evan would break his heart.

Tommy had just been wrong about how much it would hurt.

tag list: @chimneyz @bucktommyscones @swagmaster9k @geekwarrior107 @racerchix21 @fan-of-a-lot @bybobbysbeard @desert--moonchild @deans-hoodie

interact with this post to be added/removed

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life. 

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it. 

This was all Steve's fault. 

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar. 

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway. 

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess. 

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together. 

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for. 

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself. 

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well. 

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.  

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts. 

"What?"

"Bug—" 

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though." 

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about. 

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did. 

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly. 

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it. 

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her. 

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them. 

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type. 

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to. 

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little. 

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career. 

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her. 

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason. 

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head. 

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning. 

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat. 

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her. 

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her. 

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!" 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying. 

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone. 

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs. 

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for. 

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it. 

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup. 

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear. 

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders. 

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain. 

 It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way. 

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers. 

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed. 

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits. 

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap. 

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm. 

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him. 

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship. 

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it. 

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together. 

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight. 

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision. 

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda. 

And you look interested. 

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you. 

But that just makes everything so much more confusing. 

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend. 

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself. 

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something. 

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is. 

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer. 

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information. 

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic. 

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.  

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset. 

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy. 

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly. 

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you. 

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. 

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand. 

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist. 

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you. 

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you. 

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well. 

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

[the-moon-files]

Finding male/masculine reader x lu is rare, so I really appreciate your writings! :) They're very silly and fun /pos

Can I request you do a list of headcanons for a transmasc reader who doesn't pass very well and struggles with dysphoria?? Maybe the reader didn't say anything about it till one of the Link's overheard one of the readers' ramblings to themselves or a conversation?

Take your time, and there is no need if you don't want to. It is a little personal, but it would mean the WORLD to me if you ever could. I'd be interested to see how Wild would take it, as he's probably the most androgynous out of all of them, or how the old man Time would take it, as he'd probably be such a 'dad trying his best' :')

sorry again this ask got dusty!! i am slow 😞

(dont even have to explain why i choose this gif, the girls that get it, get it, and the ones that dont, dont. /ref)

Moon: Trans Masc! Male! Reader (he/him, you/your)

Orbit: who knows atp, headcanons? scenario? sure

Stars: mention of all Links, specifically Wild (BOTW Link), (and Wars a little?? sorry idk where he came out of??)

Comets & Meteors: CWs: trans dysphoria, body image, insecurity, general angst related to being trans, & TWs: gender dysphoria (ftm), graphic description and comments on "your" anxiety, insecurity, low self esteem surrounding transness.

Please take care of yourselves, do not read if these are potential triggers for you. There will always be other trans masc reader posts later! :)

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

You didnt say anything about it when you met the heroes of the legend of Zelda in person

you had sort of danced around each other as you both fell thru portals into the same Hyrules over and over until Legend finally accused you of being a spy and then you had a nervous blowout of how you kinda knew them but also not

needless to say youve been kidnapped (”We are Not kidnapping him if he doesn’t want to come with us, we’re trying to keep him safe!” - Wars “…yeah. By kidnapping him.” - Four LMAO) jk but there was some interest in you by the shadow (and hylia to some degre with the portals) so they wanted you to tag along just in case

But even after weeks of taking turns helping Wild prep and cook, sharpen weapons, sew holes, and scout potential sleep areas, cracking jokes around the campfire, you never talked about your pronouns, or being trans, only an offhand nod at a merchants clarifying “yes.. ma’am? sir? yes sir!” that luckily spread amongst the group after the Link with you started referring to you with he/him

(you were too scared, what would they think? you normally wouldve told anyone else to fuck off, moved on, but you really cared about these stupid blondes... they were so very: the epitome of a “hero”, traditionally masculine, physically strong, swords and shields and brotherly comradery, each a leader in their own right and now an unstoppable team of power, the sheer amount of fanart back in your own world you used to admire had nothing on these real men… and you? you weren’t even a real boy. clearly too round in places they were angled, too feminine even on your best days, and everyone knew it. you knew it. sometimes, you wondered if the he/him pronouns from them were out of pity, even when you knew they weren’t like that. your mind went to such awful places laying and feeling too much of your body in your bedroll in the night…)

you kept your newly bought traveling cloak on constantly, insisted on baggy ill-fitting pants and tunics, even when Wars or Time would frown in gentle confusion, offering to buy you more and better fitting clothes, you’d always politely decline.

most of them never noticed you cringe and clench your jaw when a waiter would say something like “yes sirs, oh sorry, and lady!”

itd set you back for days, clinging to the back of the group, hood up even in warmer areas, until Wind would insist on staying back with you and cheering you up [ even if he could never get out of you why you would get so defeated looking :( ]

the way you would wait until there was no one around so you could either go into the mens restroom without worrying about possible protests or wide eyed looks (or into the womens on a bad day..)

it struck them as odd, most of the heroes weren’t so oblivious they couldn’t see you laughing and jovially joining in with their antics then hunching in on yourself after a dinner at an inn or a restroom break or even outright pulling away with this hastily concealed heartbroken look on your face when Wars was acting more “gentlemenly” towards you

(unbeknownst to you, he was only doing it to you because he knew you weren’t a “link/hero” and wanted you to feel more cared for, looked out for, but not because of gender at all)

(the small cultural differences between hylian and humans at it again,, sigh rip wars making his first boy crush sad lol)

it was always a persistent and strange mystery to the boys, something that worried them more and more as they began to get to know you more and more,

this sadness and defeat that would seemingly randomly take you down, unable to really get up from it, only push it to the side after too many of Twi’s poor jokes and Wind’s dramatic groaning,

the poor heroes unable to stop it before it happened again (Legend thought it was some kind of PTSD triggers they couldnt spot at one point)

It wasnt until Wild finally, luckily overheard a conversation he wasnt meant to hear, that the pieces clicked together

youd seemingly run into a hylian man who had just been on stage as a dancer for some festival that was going on in this town, and for the first time in weeks, he saw your shoulders drop in relief, not defeat this time

he,,, may have been guilty of stealth crouching his way to a bundle of bushes closer to better hear the conversation (definitely not because he was desperate to help you, to see how the hell some random guy managed to get you to relax and look so relieved when he and the others had been trying for nearly 3 months now)

youd laughed like a weight was finally off your chest as the two of you talking about something about binding? and actually enjoying some feminine things but too afraid to do some of them for fear of... not being seen as a man even more?? what were you-?? oh. Oh.

Oh, Princey.

(a cute, originally kinda mocking, nickname Legend had started about you when u complained abt trying to sleep raw on the forest floor in just an unpadded bedroll, one that Wild would now be employing exclusively where he would’ve just said your name before)

Wild’s heart ached, the understanding so quickly digging such a deep hole in his beating heart he couldn’t think about anything else but you the rest of the day

Say goodbye to the back of the group position you’ve been holding onto, and hello to an entire wardrobe stored in Wild’s tablet because he’s buying every last stylish menswear tunic, pants, boots, belts, hats, ties, fucking cufflinks (you didnt even know any Hyrule had cufflinks?? well now you do babyyy 👉 👉 - Wild, at some point)

mf even gets matching fits, he see smth he would wear? he’s buying you the same thing or the same thing but in your favorite color

longhaired androgenous blonde elf doesnt say shit abt him overhearing ur convo with the first trans masc hylian youd met, only champions (unintentional pun tbh) the crusade of making sure you feel included as another guy in the group with the other links

(secretly tells Wars to clarify his want to just look out for you care for you, knowingly as one man to another, not gay at all rather than as a knight to specifically a lady or something dumb)

the way you suspected smth had changed but only rlly caught on when you all got invited to some big fancy ball in Wars hyrule, scrambling in the castle for a few days to find an outfit (wild insisted on some sort of fancy medival but distinctly hylian suit which u were reluctant but eventually gave into)

(Kinda like this but ur favorite colors that u think look good on you)

and when the Zelda announced it was time for them to choose their partner and be the first to dance, Wild immediately walked past all the giggling and excited whispers of the ladies around them and tugged at your hand with a bright smile until you sputterd and stumbled your way to the center of the ballroom, the slightly stunned looks of the women and even men falling away as you feel your face get hot,

no dress swings out behind either of you, only the sway of the elegant coats you’re both wearing draped over your shoulders, taking turns leading each other, no click of heels only the slight taps of both of your loafers, violins swelling until you end up in the center of room, the audience erupting into applause as all you can do it stare into Wild’s bright blue eyes in shock, his grin boyish and wide with happiness

You stay taking turns dancing with each of the links as the entire ballroom now officially dances into the night, pulling Wild into your first full hug you’ve given any of them the entire time you’ve been with them as you all are sleepily filing back to your given fancy rooms in the castle

(if Wild brags about it in the morning to jealous sleepy glares of the others in the morning, well thats between the other versions of him and himself, no need to tell Princey about it)

☆

thought abt adding “you avoid hugs, or only do side hugs to avoid chest touching, much to the desperation of every single Link in the camp, esp as they can be as sloppy with physical touch as a male sports team lol”

but didnt wanna find a point to fit it in anywhere bc it was kinda flowing so here it goes instead,

AH- also!! sorry i forgot abt Time in here :( if it helps, i honestly cant think of anything other than him clapping you way too hard on the shoulder as he says gender is a construct of hylians and the trees dont care about that sort of thing or smth fucking cryptic as shit, bc if u look it up he’s actually kinda gender ambiguous i think in the manga when he was a kid in the forest himself i think? youll have to see if theres a tumblr post abt it somewhere, i swear there was.. so even if hes that sort of brand of nonbinary nonunderstanding, hes very supportive and would be a very shiny and hard (whoops he forgot abt the armor sorry) shoulder to cry on if you ever need it (or for him to scare the hell out of someone who didnt get the pronouns right)

hope yall enjoyed!! shellyshoo sorry again but letting ur wonderful ask get dusty! lmk if i did a half decent job

(god i hope so bc i cant be doing my people dirty like this lol)\

Peace out,

🌙 📁

[willjulep]

Fairy-tale prince who was in the habit of kissing frogs shocked to discover it only takes a few hundred of them to pilot a suit of armor. Fairy-tale prince who was in the habit of kissing frogs flustered to realize they'd like to kiss him back.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Gentle Touch

Installment 1 of The Catlike Tendencies of Matthew Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt doesn't know how to ask for physical affection.

warnings: none that I can think of!

a/n: long story short this is inspired by my wife’s orange cat. He loves her but only tolerates me most of the time, unless I’m the only one home when he wants attention. However, he doesn’t really know how to cuddle with me since we don’t do it often so he just awkwardly lurks wherever I am until I invite him closer. It happened earlier and I thought it was hilariously Matt-coded so I wrote this. (It’s set in the Of Oak and Ivy verse because I love them, but you don’t need to read that story for this)

w/c: 2.3k

You were absolutely enthralled in the story Foggy was telling when the noise caught you off guard. A small puff of air, sounding almost like a voiceless sigh. Glancing toward Matt who was the closest to you, one look at his stony expression told you it had come from him. He was clearly irritated, despite his face being blank. You’d known him for long enough that you could tell when something was on his mind. 

Maybe he’d heard this story too many times? You leaned more heavily into his arm, which was parallel to yours. 

Turning your attention back to Foggy, you flinched with a laugh as he gestured wildly when concluding his story, spraying beer at you from his mostly full bottle. 

“Geez, Fog. Reaching your limit already?” Matt smirked, his icy exterior fading away as you giggled beside him. 

“He is, he’s all flushed. This is just like that party at the Beta house sophomore year.” You shook your head, looking at Karen with an exasperated expression. “Have they told you the possum story?” 

Smiling gleefully, Karen shook her head. “The possum story?” 

Both Matt and Foggy groaned, protesting and blushing furiously, but Karen was adamant. And who were you to not indulge her?

“In the fall of our second year at Columbia, Matt and Foggy got absolutely plastered on some disgusting concoction of cheap alcohol and Hawaiian Punch,” You began, rolling your eyes as Foggy gagged across from you. 

“God, even the thought of it—“ The blond mime-retched. 

“Yah the smell of Hawaiian Punch still makes me nauseous.” Matt shuddered next to you. 

Karen stifled a giggle as you continued to illustrate just how inebriated you’d found them when you’d come to pick them up. “I was studying and had sat the party out, but offered to drive them home when Fog called me screaming at someone to chug alcohol. I figured they’d both be in no shape to get home.”

“You were correct.” Foggy nodded. 

“I don’t remember anything from that night, but I assume I was the one chugging.” Matt grimaced, laughing sheepishly. 

“So I drove over to the house, somehow got ahold of Matt and managed to convince him to herd Foggy and himself into my car. When they get there, they’re holding this bundle, right? I figured it was dirty clothes or something. But as we were driving home the clothes start hissing.”

“Oh, NO!” Karen cackled, propping herself up on her elbows as she listened to the story. 

“Oh yes. Naturally, I ask Fog what he’s holding and he says ‘my dog’.” 

“We didn’t have a dog,” Matt clarified, looking incredibly guilty. 

“No you did not.” You squeezed his arm, hoping he could hear in your voice that you had no resentment over the incident. “Foggy unwraps the thing a bit and introduces it as ‘Spot’. But instead of a dog,”

“It’s a possum.” Karen finishes for you, nearly in stitches over her coworkers’ mortified faces. 

“An angry one at that. I have no idea where it came from or how they managed to catch it, but there it was.” You shook your head, still amazed at their ability to wrangle the creature while piss-drunk. 

“What happened to it?” Karen asked, and the men erupted. 

“That’s classified.” Foggy stated firmly, lips pressed together. 

“A story for another time,” Matt rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Don’t tell me you killed it!” Karen gasped, whirling to look at the out of them sternly. 

“Of course not! No possums were harmed in the making of this story, just mildly inconvenienced.” You assured her. “They’re just clamming up because they can’t remember whose fault it was that it got loose in the science hall.”

Trailing off into a fit of laughter, Karen was quick to follow you as the two men started arguing, pointing fingers. Sitting back and enjoying the show, you shot Karen knowing glances as Matt and Foggy fought, no real heat behind their words. 

You’d had so much fun that night, reliving one of the funniest moments of your college years, that you’d completely forgotten about the aggravated sound. Until about one month after, when you were sitting next to Matt on a bench in the courthouse. 

The case he and Foggy had been working on was tedious and full of metaphorical landmines that threatened to ruin any shot your client had at escaping her abusive husband. The entire firm had been on edge, struggling to keep everything in order. Given your lack of steady employment at the moment, you’d been helping out wherever you could, and had been working this case from day one, right alongside Matt. Which is how you’d ended up beside him rather than Foggy. 

The blond had flown out of town a few days before to attend an extended family reunion, leaving the rest of you to man the fort, so to speak. Usually, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Matt had been increasingly temperamental leading up to the ex parte hearing. His normal reserved demeanor had rapidly been replaced by a moody, antagonistic version of him–driving poor Karen to her wit’s end. 

After Matt had incited a screaming match over a spilled cup of coffee, you’d told her to take her lunch early, giving her a couple hours where she didn’t need to walk on eggshells. The plan seemed to be working so far, Matt responding with less hostility to your persistent support rather than Karen’s eager suggestions for an aggressive approach. Something about this case had rubbed Matt the wrong way. His invisible hackles were standing on end, posture almost bristling as he sat beside you, twisting a white-knuckled fist around his cane. And, though you understood why Karen was pushing for another solution, you agreed with Matt that this needed to be handled quickly and quietly. 

Scowling at the floor, Matt’s joints rolled beneath the delicate skin of his hands. His jaw was clenched, shoulders curled inward, as if he expected the judge to request a fist fight to grant the protection order. Christ, that could not be comfortable.

Carefully, slow enough to not spook him when he was in this state, you slid the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand. Prying his firm grip off the handle of his cane, you cradled his massive, calloused hand in your lap. He visibly relaxed at the touch, twisting to face you as you traced gentle patterns over his skin, careful to avoid the line of freshly healed cuts on his knuckles. Your curiosity would have to wait for now. There was no way he was in the mood to explain those.

A breathy rumble sounded in his throat, akin to a sigh but less obvious. The same noise he’d made all those days ago at Josie’s–the quiet indication that something wasn’t right. 

Bottom lip jutting out in sympathy, you squeezed his fingers with your own. “It’ll be ok, Matty.” 

He swallowed roughly, hazel eyes darting around behind his red lenses. You could practically see the thoughts forming in his mind before he buried them, the stress forcing him back into bad habits. Sweeping your fingers over his wrist, you studied him, satisfaction thrumming in your chest when his breath hitched. “Hey, talk to me, trouble. What are you thinking?”

“It’s not going to go well.” His voice was pitched low, angry, but there was a brief undercurrent of fear within it. 

“We don’t know that.” You chastised lightly, knowing this pessimistic streak was a coping mechanism and not confirmation he’d become a nihilist. 

“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it? It’s like every officer is laughing at us. We’ve already lost.” Watching Matt, the perpetual optimist, crumble at the thought of things not going the way you’d planned nearly broke your heart. 

“Oh trouble, don’t say that.” Threading your fingers with his, you knocked your knees together. “It’ll be ok. Even if the judge doesn’t grant the order today, we won’t stop trying, right?”

“No but she needs legal protection now. Truthfully, she needs an armed guard.” Matt spoke bitterly.

“We can get her temporary protection.” You suggested.

“They’d never grant that for a simple DV case. Besides, those are his coworkers. Do you really trust them to keep her safe from him?” Matt scoffed, raising a brow at you. 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you jabbed your pinky into the flesh of his palm. “I wasn’t suggesting we go to the police, Matthew. You and I both know how little good that would do.”

Deflating as he realized you weren’t being as naive as he suspected, Matt frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not everyone knows the flaws in the system.” You reassured him. “But I do. To some extent, at least.”

He hummed in agreement, but said nothing. 

“What’s really bothering you?” At your insistent question, Matt’s face flashed with rage, his spine straightening as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but you held fast. “Don’t you dare, trouble. Please, talk to me. It’s eating you away, I can’t sit here and let that happen.” 

Sighing harshly, Matt ran a hand over his face. “I just..this case feels different. I don’t know why. But if we can’t help her…”

“All we can do is try our best.” You reminded him. 

He let out a single humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” 

When you let his hand drop, he made that pitiful, choked noise again. 

“What?” You asked, slightly worried. 

“Nothing. Just tired.” He lied, wrapping his hand back around the handle of his cane.

It was only once you were truly together that you realized what that specific sound was meant to signify. 

Since you’d officially started dating, or rather labeling whatever you two had as a relationship instead of dancing around each other, that stupid noise had cemented itself in your life. It seemed like Matt was making it every damn day and it was driving you up a wall. 

Not because Matt wasn’t entitled to his feelings or to expressing said feelings. But because your brain registered that the sound had a specific meaning, and you could not for the life of you translate it from a mere Matt-ism into a language you actually understood. Every little quirk and charm about Matt inherently made sense to you, they always had. Yet this little growling exhale seemed out of your reach. Not to mention, anytime you tried to ask him what was up, he shut down faster than a computer chip dunked in pool water.

Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, he snarled out that sound, eyes darting towards you and away before you could blink. Brows furrowing, you peered at him over the top edge of your book. A muscle in his cheek twitched, a blaring omen that he was holding himself back from saying something. 

“You ok?” You asked, nose scrunching as Matt brushed off your concern. 

“Yep. Hungry.” He grumbled. 

One word answers. Great start. Really breaking down his walls there, champ. 

“Oh, gotcha. I’ll order something. Have a taste for anything in particular?” Setting your book across your thighs, you opened up a delivery app on your phone. 

“No.” 

“Okay...” You drawled, stifling an eye roll at his grouchiness. “How about that Lebanese place we liked?” 

Receiving nothing but a thumbs up in response, you submit an order before Matt reached another stage of hangriness. 

Once Matt had eaten half of his shawarma, he was more agreeable. Smiling and chuckling sweetly as you read him cheesy snippets of your romance novel. Crawling across the couch until you were seated beside him, you stretched over his lap to snatch a piece of pita bread for your plate of hummus. Matt blew out a breath, tickling your ear as he grunted. Now that you were close, you could hear the shrill, whimpering undertone. Hidden, nearly silent, as if the growl was to compensate for the whine, to conceal it. 

Craning your neck towards him, you planted your free hand on your hip. 

“Alright. Out with it.” 

“Out with what?” Matt gave his best ‘befuddled’ impression, but you saw past his feigned innocence. 

Snorting, you prodded his firm chest. As your finger connected with his solid pec, he whimpered again, this time almost moaning. Something clicked. 

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” You gasped. “You are not making that sound instead of asking to cuddle.” 

Blushing furiously, Matt dipped his head, ashamed–though he made no attempt to deny the allegation.

Laughing incredulously, you tossed your plate aside and settled into Matt’s lap, threading a hand into his hair. “You are a ridiculous man.”

Matt rumbled happily, leaning into the touch until his head landed against your chest. Clutching his face between your palms, you trailed soft touches over his cheeks, around his ears–scratching tenderly down his neck when he practically melted beneath your fingertips.

“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted, all this time…” Shaking your head, you planted a kiss atop his thick hair. “Why suffer in silence?”

“Didn’t want to force you. It’s been different. Since..everything.” 

Snuggling in close, you maneuvered his chin with two fingers, kissing him deeply. His stubble brushed over your skin roughly, making you smile. “You can always always ask, trouble. No need to be a martyr with me.”

“Sorry,” Matt murmured against your lips, chasing your mouth with a mournful noise as you pulled away. 

“Don’t be sorry. Now come here.” Tugging him on top of you, you laughed brightly as he squirmed over you, finally relaxed when his face was tucked against your neck. “That’s it. Better?” 

“Much better.” He whispered, going limp under your touch as your fingers stroked up his back.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @shouldbestudying41

[midnight-mourning]

One Winter Night

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 8❄️❄️

I will catch up with these, I WILL CATCH UP WITH THESE I SWEAR-

sigh, sorry y'all secret santa has me in a chokehold bc I want to make sure I finish both on time, going to work on getting caught up asap though! Hope you enjoy ^-^

Prompt: Um... Maybe a meet cute as a request? 👉👈 Adult reader is out at a freshly snow-covered playground/park leaning on a railing that overlooks the city below or out at a lake and then city; and it can be either faintly snowing or a clear somewhat chilly night. It's around midnight or getting close to it when the DCA (be it single bodied or the canon duo/trio in separate bodies) find Reader on their way home after their own little excursion (maybe from a party or late night groceries/gift shopping or even just getting off late from work) and go check on them. Have a little chat about life, where the DCA were at, why Reader is there alone, a bit of nostalgia feel, and perhaps have it develope into exchanging numbers or Reader being invited over or silly snow filled shenanigans (like a game of chase, snow angels, swinging and jumping into a pile of snow, maybe even a snowball fight) around the playground/park started by one accidentally getting snow on the other. Or even a mix of all three suggestions if it tickles your fancy Could be strangers meeting each other for the first time or childhood friends meeting once again after years a part from being on separate paths I hope this is an okay request, was trying to be a little specific but also vague enough to create easier 😅

Word Count: 2182

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The chill of the night burns against your cheeks and nose, but not in an entirely unpleasant manner. After all, you were choosing to be out here at this time of night. You found peace in it, the quiet that fell over the city after a fresh snow, something of a comfort against the never-ending hustle and bustle of your day to day. 

The night sky is clouded, snow falling gently in comparison to the storm that originally covered the landscape. You adjust your gloved grip on the railing, overlooking the water to the rest of the city across the way, the lights just a little dimmer tonight than usual. It's as if the city is actually sleeping, calmed by the winter weather. 

There's a silence to the air that one can only experience after everyone else has gone to bed, leaving only a select few to revel in it. You included, very much so. 

One would think with the amount of loneliness in your life, you wouldn't be seeking out more of it. They'd be wrong. There was a difference in being alone versus lonely, and in that particular moment, it was the former and not the latter you were feeling. 

The peace is disturbed by the sound of laughter down the street and turning slightly you recognize the origin as your neighbors. Or well, you live in the same building, but don't interact much besides a passing hello or nod. 

Animatronics, the two of them. Not uncommon in this day and age anymore. You'd never caught their names, but you had a pretty good guess based on their celestial appearances. 

One of them, Sun, you believe, must have caught you staring, as he raises his hand in greeting from across the street. 

Slightly embarrassed, you raise your hand back, hoping that'll be the end of the interaction. You're not great at making friends. Or small talk. 

To your—slight—horror, he says something to his companion, and they both start making their way over to you. 

"Good evening, friend!" The sunny one calls as they approach. "Why're you out so late on a night like this?"

The moon juts in. "What he means to say is, this weather is awfully cold for a human."

"Ah, yeah. It is. I um,"—you can't tell them that you're doing this to escape the crippling feeling of being alone during the holidays—"I enjoy it. You're um, the neighbors across from me, right?"

"That's us! Sun,"—the yellow bot gestures to himself—"And Moon." He points to the other animatronic, who nods.

You nod, sharing your name. "And what about you two? Why're you out so late yourselves?"

"Holiday party."

Sun holds up some bags. "Then gift shopping!"

"Oh! How fun." You nod, turning back to watch over the water.

"And what about you friend?"

You turn slightly. "What about me?"

"Any fun events coming up?" Sun leans forward, unintentionally breaking your bubble. But you let it slide because well, you're not sure. 

"Oh, um, not really, no." You chuckle, eyes flicking to the side. 

Sun gasps, but not in a mocking way, more in genuine surprise, and upset. "What? Don't tell me your friends aren't doing anything fun! It's the holidays! Why I outta-"

Moon puts his hand on his counterpart's shoulder, but that doesn't stop his muttered grumbling. 

It makes you giggle, but your inner sadness drips through, and unfortunately doesn't go unnoticed, with both animatronics tilting their heads at you, slight concern in their stares. 

It's a bit too much for you, especially from two people who are practically strangers to you. 

You bite your lip, feeling a little pathetic in that moment, but lying isn't your style. Not to mention, you feel for some reason inclined to share with these two, even if you are a bit embarrassed. 

"To be honest, I don't, have too many friends. None that I'm close enough for that kind of thing. So I just kind of do my own thing for the holidays and it works out, alright, I guess." You realize yourself, you didn't mean to share that much. You try to save the conversation. "Which, is okay! I'm not super great with people anyway. Haven't been for um, awhile." That did not save the conversation, that did not save the conversation-

Laughter, clear against the chill of the night erupts from Sun. You're surprised, and peeking briefly at Moon you note his own confusion. 

Sun stops after a moment, looking to you, rays spinning. "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we?"

Before you can say anything, he's off, darting over to the playground, calling back at the two of you to join him. 

You feel a smile quirk your lips then, and with nothing better to do, decide to follow. Moon falls in stride with you. 

"We're not bothering you, are we?" He asks as you go. 

You put your hands up. "Oh no, not at all. Besides he's got me curious now as to what—"

Your answer is just short by a snowball to your chest. You blink, and scanning find the source peeking around the corner a part of the playset. Moon snickers, but is soon pelted himself, causing him to grumble and you to laugh outright. He whips to you, and you cover your mouth to hide your giggles, but it doesn't help much. 

He starts to chuckle then, bending slightly to scoop snow off the ground. You start to shake your head. "Wait, wait that's not fair. Hold on—"

From there, it becomes an all-out war. No one is safe, especially not you. At times, you team up with either of the two. Sun dragging you with him to hide in part of the play structure, bodies close as you try to contain your snickering while Moon stands confused down below. Moon instead chooses to use you as a shield and less of a partner in crime, which, as Sun states is "Cheating!". 

But there's something in those moments, something that sparks a feeling in you that you haven't felt in a while, and not just in relation to your loneliness that's been eating at you for, a bit now, to put it lightly. 

There's a feeling in your chest that reminds you of being a kid again, running around on the playground, filled with an adrenaline you can only get from something like a snowball fight. And mixing with these stirrings in your chest while being around these two, well, you're more than warm enough for several reasons. 

Maybe it's the heat of your breath against the warmth of sun's chest as he holds you close with one arm. Maybe it's how Moon shoots you a grin everyone now and then when you catch each other's gaze. Maybe it's the squeeze they each give your hand that holds something you can't quite recognize as friendly, but anything more would be silly in your mind. Things like this can't happen in the span of an hour, and you'd be foolish to think otherwise. 

Right?

But when you trip and fall back into a pile of snow, dragging Moon down with you, and your eyes meet, your heart flutters in a way you don't know it ever has. 

It's only interrupted by Sun coming over, worry evident in his expression. He starts to help Moon up, only to be tricked, nearly trading places with the bot, but ends up on top of you instead. 

It shocks you both, eyes wide as you stare at each other. 

What makes matters worse is the way Sun's rays flick, eyes softening with a quiet. "Hi, friend."

There's something about it that makes your pulse quicken, heart pounding in your ears as you swallow. "Hi."

He seems to realize himself. "Come here often?" He tries to joke. 

"Not really, no." You breathe. 

A chuckle. "Pity. You should."

Your face is suddenly splattered with the remains of a snowball, which primarily hit the back of Sun's head. His expression sours, and when Moon starts to snicker is when the war begins again, Sun's hand tightly gripping your own as you follow his lead with your revenge.

When you become thoroughly cold is when you have to call it, but they don't seem to mind. In fact, to your surprise, they ask to exchange numbers, and you try to not be so eager to agree. You assume that'll be the end of it, but they invite you inside their home before you can get your keys inside your door. 

"It's the least we can do."

"We may have gotten a little carried away..." Sun's rays shrink, then perk up again. "But we have coco! And snacks!"

You laugh at their sudden shared bashfulness, and nod. "You're alright. That does sound lovely."

The inside of their apartment isn't to unsimilar from your own, you're not quite sure what you expected though. It's definitely much more festive than your place, warm lighting, many decorations, a tree decorated to the nines. 

It's not until you're bundled up in a blanket, borrowing a spare shirt and pants from the two—your clothes were totally soaked, they insisted—hot coco in hand as you chat and wrap gifts with Sun, that it hits you how nice this all is. There's music playing throughout the space, Moon is in the kitchen making something that smells amazing, and you feel just right at home. 

It, alarms you, for a moment. Just a few hours ago, you knew nothing about either of them, and yet here you are, feeling as if you've known them forever. You're talking about things you haven't shared with anyone, parts of your life you'd near forgotten about due to the lack of connection. And the thing is, it's not just you, both animatronics spill as many stories to you, about what they did before moving in, their friends, it all just flows in a way that shouldn't be possible. 

And yet. 

"Something the matter, Sunshine?"

You glance up, and Sun nods to the half wrapped present below you. "Are you tired? You don't have to stay any longer if you don't want to. Your clothes should be done by now."

His words are kind, but there's a melancholy that hits your core, because of how similarly it matches your own. 

"No!" You shake your head, taking a breath. "Sorry, no I'm, I'm more than alright, really."

Moon joins you finally, setting down a plate with really good looking food beside you on the coffee table, how did he even have time to make all that?

"Are you sure?" He asks. "I can always bag this up for you, if you'd prefer. We don't want to burden you any. You've entertained us more than enough."

Again, you shake your head. "No, it's not that at all. I just, if anything I,"—there's a tightening in your throat, come on, don't blow this, why do you feel like crying—"I don't understand why you're both being so nice to me. You have no reason to. I can't make sense of it." Your hands grip your head then. "And I just, I've never felt this way about anyone before and I feel like I'm going crazy and now I'm rambling, I'm sorry—"

You cut yourself off when a hand goes under your chin, tilting your head back to the night-themed bot on the couch behind you. And the breath leaves your lungs when he presses his smile to your lips for just a moment. 

Sun grumbles from across from you. "No fair! You're not even the one who had a crush."

"I do now." Moon answers, then focuses back on you. "If they don't mind, that is."

Your face burns. "I, well I um—" You stop, sitting upright again to look over to Sun. "Crush?"

"Oh big time. If you had any idea how thrilled he was to see you out and about earlier—" He's interrupt by Sun shushing him instantly, and the bickering that ensues between them makes you giggle. 

"You really mean that?" You ask once they settle down. 

Both nod. 

Sun puts his head in his hand. "I did have a crush, but, after spending the night with you I think it may have gotten worse. I'm sorry if you believe you were led here under false intentions, but we truly did mean nothing but the best."

"He's not really sorry he's just trying to gain sympathy." Moon mutters beside you. 

"I am!"

You laugh again. "It's okay, I don't mind."

And as the mood shifts again, somehow even warmer than before, you find that really don't. Whatever this is, even if it's only for tonight, only for this brief moment in your life, it doesn't matter. You'll treasure it all the same. 

But something about the way Sun laughs, and how Moon's hand rests on your shoulder tells you this won't be the end and is in fact, just merely the beginning. 

And you're more than content with that.

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This was fun, a lil angsty, but fun! I hope you enjoyed @zoranight16 and thank you so much for the request! Loved the vibes of it, tried to capture the feelings as best I could bc I love this kind of thing ^_^

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@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi! Can I request MM! Raph with a fem s/o who is very opposite of him, like she's kind, dresses very girly, oblivious, kinds like opposites attract. Where one day, reader is getting flirted with but doesn't understand it, and Raph is js getting jealous/protective??

Don’t Flirt With My Girlfriend (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Of course you can! I’m thinking jock Raph with his girly yet a little nerdy girlfriend. I don’t know why, but I just find it cute❤️

Warnings: Raph being jealous, and reader being oblivious to unwanted flirting, but nothing too bad❤️

Whoever said that opposite attracts, had no idea how right their words were. When they first uttered those words, they would have had no idea that such a thing as you and Raphael would ever come to happen.

You and Raphael was the stereotypical high school love story. Well… except the fact that Raph was a mutant turtle and considered a hero in the city of New York City , but that is not very important. Raph was a jock, part of Eastman High’s wrestling team, currently testing his waters in the school's American Football team, having played a few successful games. And though he might be big and strong with a quick temper, he didn’t do too well in his studies, lacking behind for quite some time. But that was how he first met you - his opposite in so many ways.

You were sweet, calm and always so happy, yet drawing very little attention to yourself. Well, at least not by sound, but quite a few had their eyes on you. Often dressing in dresses with pretty floral prints in light colors, such as pink, baby blue, light green and soft light yellow and purple, you were the stereotypical girly girl. And not only that, but you were in the same math class as Raphael, which was how you finally got to talk to him, when your teacher asked you to become his tutor.

Becoming Raph’s math tutor meant that you and jock would spend much time together, both at your place and his. And as time passed and the two of you got to know each other, neither of you could help the crush that you were developing. However, it was during this time that Raph learned something very important about you - you were not good at reading his flirting. He could send you all sorts of looks, or say all kinds of sugary sweet things, but you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to do or say, which was a little frustrating to the young mutant. However, he decided to do his best and follow your tutoring, believing that was a way to get closer to you. When Raph later passed a math test, after you had helped him prepare, he decided to ask you out, and the rest was history.

You and Raph quickly became the couple of Eastman High that everybody knew of. No matter if it was wrestling or football, if Raph did good in his sports, he would make a show of running to you, where he would place a firm kiss to your lips, telling you how much he loved you, before running off to continue his game. That was enough to let the whole school know that you were together. That you were with Raph and that he was with you. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to understand that. Unless some poor soul hadn’t been there to see that. That is where Anker came into the picture.

Anker was an exchange student from one of the Scandinavian countries, having decided to study in the US for a year. That was how Anker found himself in the same English class as you, sitting just a few rows behind you. And it only took him a few days to develop a small crush on you, not knowing about your mutant turtle boyfriend of a jock. Which is why he decided to walk up to you after class, in the hopes of chatting you up.

As you stood by your open locker, getting a hold of the books you needed for your next class after the break, Anker came up by the locker beside you, resting against it as he began talking to you. You smiled a friendly smile to the exchange student, answering his questions as politely as possible, not noticing the way he kept eyeing you every other minute, or how people passing looked at him, as if he was crazy. If Raph saw this, he might as well count his days. But you were totally oblivious, believing that Anker was only trying to be friendly. An exchange student trying to make new friends.

“So”, Anker continued, changing the subject. “What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N)?”

“This weekend?”, you repeated deep in thought. “Well, this Saturday I’m spending time with my family, and Sunday I’ll be studying for Monday”.

“So you don’t have any plans on Friday?”, Anker asked, not noticing the mutant turtle whose eyes was piercing through him, as he walked up to the two of you at a fast pace, his gym bag almost falling off his shoulder. “Would you like to go to the cinema with me on Friday then?”

“No, sorry”, you answered, still not aware of your boyfriend as he was making his way to you. “I already got plans for Friday”.

“Plans?”, Anker asked in confusion. “With who?”

“Me!”, Raph spat at the exchange student, making the boy jump in fear. Not just by Raph’s sudden presence, but by his appearance. No one had told Anker that the mutant turtles were studying at Eastman High. Raph wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him, while staring daggers into Anker’s soul, his anger fuming underneath his skin. “I know what you’re trying to do, and you can quit it right now. Don’t flirt with my girlfriend, buster!”

Anker looked more than just a little unsure, before quickly making his exit, feeling Raph’s eyes burn the back of his neck all the way to the end of the hall, until he was out of sight.

“I’m sorry, Raph”, you finally said when Anker was gone, already feeling horrible. “I had no idea he was flirting with me”.

“It’s okay, babe”, Raph said, wrapping his other arm around you, hugging you tightly against him, feeling his plastron underneath his jersey. “It’s not your fault. You’ve never been good at recognizing flirting, so I don’t blame you at all. But if he tries on anything, I’ll punch his face so hard that he’ll-”.

“I don’t think that’s necessary”, you interrupted him, putting a soft hand against his cheek, feeling him lean against it. There was no doubt that having you in his life had helped Raph calm down immensely, having an easier time cooling down from his more temperamental periods. Just like now. The feeling of your warm hand against his face calming him down. “But thank you for looking out for me, Raph. Otherwise I might unknowingly have gotten myself into something dumb”.

“Anything for my girl”, Raph smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, causing you to smile like crazy. Even you were able to understand how sweet that gesture was and what that meant. “Are you still up for our date on Friday?”

“Of course I am”, you said, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. “I’ve been waiting ever since last Friday for another diner date”.

Raph chuckled at that statement, finding your enthusiasm adorable. “Gosh, you’re cute. Gimme a kiss, babe”.

You giggled, before standing on your toes as Raph leaned down, your lips meeting together in a sweet tender kiss before you pulled back, looking deep into each other’s eyes with bright smiles.

“Eating together at lunch?”, Raph asked.

“Of course we are”, you answered, kissing Raph one more time, before the two of you made your way towards math with your hands entwined.

[itsdrawingmen]

Day 4+5/7 — AU/Postcanon + Dressing up/Undressing

'And what do you think you're doing, young man?!'

'Aw c'mon, I know you won't be needing this. Hehe'

[masonmtxo]

Have a random dad Mase drabble

Mason fiddled with the lapels of his suit as he approached the podium set up in the centre of the stage, shaking the hand of the older man who had given him an introduction. He has been nervous when he had initially been asked to make a quick speech earlier in the evening by one of the ladies who had helped run the event, but his mind instantly flickered to his newborn daughter in Manchester who he was away from the first time since her birth 2 weeks ago and he knew what he wanted to say.

He coughed slightly, glancing around the room until his eyes landed on his brother who gave him a supportive nod and grin. It would usually have been you sitting beside his vacant chair at these events, but for the first time since you had started dating, he was attending without you on his arm. Right now you were at home, probably laid across the sofa with your daughter on your chest, and in that moment a feeling of homesickness struck across his heart that make his stomach ache with the intensity. God knows how he would be able to deal with away matches or international camps now, it was hard enough just leaving you, but the thought of leaving his daughter for an extended period was impossible to fathom.

Adjusting the microphone, his mind stayed fixated on the little human that had given him a whole new meaning to life, and a much deeper appreciation for the charity that already meant so much to him. Mason took a deep breath and started, “first off, Id like to say a massive thank you to ‘Together for Short lives’ for asking me to be here tonight and to be their patron. It has been a huge honour to work with the amazing people who run this charity and to see first hand the incredible difference they make on so many children and young people’s lives,” he cleared his throat, eyes stinging slightly as he continues, “2 weeks ago, I became a parent for the first time and that has given me an even deeper appreciation for what this foundation does for families across the UK. I always understood the importance of supporting those who have been diagnosed with a life limiting condition as well as their families, but since becoming a dad and being able to experience that love for a child first hand, I feel proud more now than ever that I am able to play a small part in this work.”

He paused, taking another deep breath, “My baby girl is at home right now with my partner and this is the first time since she was born that I’ve had to leave her for more than a few hours and I honestly feel lost. I keep texting her mum for updates and I know she’s probably rolling her eyes at me for being so anxious about leaving her. So I cant even imagine what some families go through, often being apart from their loved ones due to treatments and hospital stays. Being able to provide families with the ability to spend time together, living life to the fullest and making the most of what they have makes this charity have an even closer place to my heart.”

He smiled softly, eyes falling upon some of the families who were being supported, “so thank you all for being here tonight and allowing me to join you. Enjoy!” he finished, stepping away from the podium with a charming smile.

Shaking a few hands of other attendees he recognised on his way back to the table, he reached for his phone the second he made it back to his chair. Quickly opening up his chat with you, smiling at the last message you had sent, letting him know Marley was finally down for the night after refusing to settle earlier in the evening, seemingly missing her daddy.

I love you both more than you will ever know. See you in the morning, tell Marley daddy misses her xxxx

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place. 

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 

The extra time was sorely appreciated. 

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 

Probably. 

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?" 

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 

Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!" 

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

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"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 

PART THREE

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