#daisy's writing

[mxltifxnd0m]

ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴇxᴇʀᴄɪꜱᴇ

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Summary: You spar with Miguel 

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x spider fem! Reader, fem reader is a Spider-Woman

Words: 2.5K

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Warnings: none, some sexual tension, banter, reader loves to annoy Miguel, no use of y/n

A/N: I have no clue if I should post this after months of not writing lol (so if it does hi tumblr it has been a while 😅). And as always thank you to my wife @songofpatrochilless for beta reading!

A/N pt.2: try and find the vampire by olivia rodrigo reference 🤭

𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘰'𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An alert from your watch makes you stop typing the report you were writing for Tony. You look at it confused since you don’t typically get a message or an alert on your days off. You tap on the watch, and Lyla appears on your desk. 

“Hey, Lyla!” You greet her cheerfully, “What does Miguel need from me?” 

“He needs you at HQ, Miguel said something about training?” Lyla tells you. 

“You don’t sound too sure about why he’s calling me either.” 

Lyla just shrugs at you and says to hurry up. You roll your eyes at her and tell her you’ll be at HQ. She disappears with a little salute and pulling out your phone, you text the team that you’ll be out for a couple of hours. 

You tap on the spider pendant hanging from your necklace twice. Your spider suit (sans mask) forms around your body. You tap on the watch and configure it to go to Earth-928B. The hexagonal portal opens, and you begin to walk through it, getting pulled through. Being welcomed by the sight of the infinite universes never ceases to amaze you. After a minute, the portal opens and you end up in the elevator in HQ. As you leave the elevator and head to Miguel’s office, the various variants of Peter Parker and other spider people greet you as you pass them. 

You can hear your footsteps echo through the empty halls as you near Miguel’s (cave) office.

“So, is there a multiversal villain that isn't in their universe, and that's why you called me on my day off, or did you miss me?” You call out to Miguel as you enter his office with your hands on your hips and a smug smile as his desk floats down slowly. 

"You know you should fix that to make it go down faster." You quip. 

His desk finally reaches the floor, and Miguel is unamused. 

“Neither.” He responds, deciding to ignore the comment that you made about his desk. Your eyes widen slightly in disbelief as you observe Miguel's choice of clothing. 

“Ermm…so where’s the suit? I wasn’t aware that we had casual Fridays at HQ now, and I didn’t take you to be someone to wear their symbol on their casual wear.” You stifle a laugh as your hand gestures to the loose-fitting grey joggers and tight black compression tank top with his emblem stitched in the front that he is wearing instead of his usual red and blue spider suit. 

There’s a hint of a smirk as he sees your eyes trail over his form.

“We don’t.” He responds to my question, “But we’re training today.” He goes to leave the room. You quickly follow him after him as you trail behind him slightly. 

“Wait, slow your roll, Dracula! What do you mean by training?” 

Miguel scoffed at the nickname, “I haven’t been able to see what you are capable of, so you and I are going to spar.” He explains as he walks toward the training room. 

“I thought you recruited people based on their experience?” 

“I landed in your universe on a whim-“ 

“You mean you got sucker punched into my universe trying to get back to this one and passed out.” You interrupt Miguel. 

He sighed heavily, “I landed in your universe and wasn’t planning to recruit you until I figured out what you could do. What the others don’t do.” 

His comment rendered you speechless, not liking how he tried to bring up your past. You guys spent the rest of the walk in silence. You felt you were nearing your destination. You were right as he stopped before a door and opened it, and Miguel gestured for you to enter first. 

“Well, would you look at that? Miguel O’Hara has manners.” you tease as you enter the mysterious room. 

“Hardy har har, I've never heard that one before.” He says dryly. 

As you walk in, the room is pitch black, and all you can hear is Miguel’s footsteps. You hear a click and the hum of electricity before the bright lights flicker on.

The sudden brightness throws you off slightly. You have to blink a couple of times to clear your vision. The first thing you notice is that the room is massive. Foam mats line the floor, leading you to believe those are for sparring. Where there aren’t foam mats, linoleum pathways lead you to different parts of the room.

As your eyes move to the left side of the room, there is a window that looks into what seems to be a dance studio? You can see the barre used for ballet, and you suspect that the “window” is a two-way mirror. You raise an eyebrow at the dance studio, wondering why there was one in the first place, but you continue to scan the room.

The ceiling is incredibly high, with metal bars protruding from the walls leading up to the high ceiling, and from the ceiling itself. Then, your eyes landed on the center of the room. There was a boxing ring, and Miguel was standing in the middle.

“I thought there was already a training facility that the others use?”You question Miguel as you begin to walk up to the ring.  

“This is an old one before I had the other built. It’s a bit outdated for the others. So, no one uses it anymore. But I’m using it to see what you can do. Do you have clothes underneath your suit?” 

“No, I go commando all the time.” You snark at him. 

Miguel sends you a look, his red eyes flashing slightly at you. 

“Yes, I have my plain clothes underneath.” You answer with a slight sigh.

He gestured to the right side of the room, where a door labeled locker rooms was.

“There should be some spare clothes in one of those lockers. Get changed, and meet me back here.” He ordered.

You nod and walk into the locker rooms. Inside, the room was split into two, with a door leading to a men's and women's side. You walked into the woman’s side, and it looked like a generic locker room. Lockers lined the walls furthest from the door you entered from, changing stalls to the left and sinks and bathroom stalls to the right. The lockers had no locks, so you pulled a random one open. There was a black sports bra and some black leggings. You close the locker door with the clothes in hand and head to the changing stalls.

Once you had gotten changed, your feet quietly led you out of the locker room, and you lifted your eyes from the ground to see Miguel raising his arms above his head, making his shirt rise slightly, giving you a good look at his prominent v-line and how low his pants are sitting at his hips. You feel yourself flush at the sight of Miguel’s tan skin. You clear your throat to alert Miguel. As you climbed into the ring, you could feel his eyes on you. 

“So, are you ready to go down Nosferatu?” You ask him with a teasing grin on my face. 

He rolls his eyes at me and puts his hands on his hips, “Some ground rules before we start. No webs, no face shots, and tap out if you get pinned. And stop calling me that.” He explains as he points his finger at me.

“Got it, and I’m not going to.” There’s a grin on your face. “But one thing before we start.” 

“What is it?” He says, getting a little impatient. 

“Are you sure you want to spar with me specifically?” 

“Why? Are you afraid that you’ll lose? I don’t see a problem with that.” Miguel says while shrugging with a half smile on his face. 

You grin wide at his cockiness, “Great, you’re feeling confident. No, I’m not afraid. I just wanted to ask if you thought this through.” 

“And why is that? Humor me.” Amusement coated his tone.

“You’re asking the person groomed to be an assassin since they were 9 to see what they can do. I have to say it’s not one of your brightest ideas, Mig.” As soon as you finished your sentence, you went to swipe his feet from underneath him, but at the last second, he managed to dodge your attack. 

“I guess we’re starting now.” He mutters under his breath as he gets into a defensive position, but your advanced hearing makes it easy for you to hear his words. 

The both of you begin to circle each other. The both of you are in defensive positions and waiting for the other to strike.

“Bring it, Miggy.” You flash him a smirk, your tone teasing as you make the hand gesture to come at you. He lunges at you. 

As the both of you spar in the boxing ring, neither can keep the other pinned. You can feel the sweat coat your body, your chest heaves from exertion, but you can’t wipe away the smile on your face. It had been a while since you’d been able to spar with someone that matched your skill level. 

You guys reached a standstill. You and Miguel start to circle one another once again. You decide that you have to finish this. You run full speed at Miguel, surprising him. Miguel was unprepared for the sudden attack. You jump and wrap your legs around his head and neck. Using momentum, you twist your body to bring him to the ground. He fell on his back hard on the mat as you landed on your feet. You take this as a chance to pin him down. You straddle his waist and pin his wrists down onto the floor. 

You lean over him, your face hovering over his. You can tell that Miguel was not anticipating your sudden move. The wind got knocked out of him. His breaths were harsh and shallow. You smile smugly at Miguel once he opens his eyes. 

“Do you yield?” You tease him as you lean further down into Miguel, feeling his harsh breath hitting your skin. You can see him swallow hard and try to get out of your grip, but you fight against his attempts to get out of your grasp. 

“Are you trying to get me off of you?” You coo at him, laughing slightly at his attempts. His face twists into a snarl at your teasing. He bares his fangs at you as he tries to get you off. 

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that Miggy.” You taunt him as you tighten your grip around his thick wrists and squeeze your thighs around his waist. He suddenly stops wriggling around, and a smirk appears on his face. He leans closer to your face, your noses brushing against one another. The smile slips off your face as you stare into Miguel’s ruby-red eyes. 

“You know, you shouldn’t let proximity distract you, Hermosa,” Miguel says in a sultry whisper, his words fanning over your lips, and you can feel yourself swallow hard at his words. 

“It’s not.” You croak out, feeling your chest tighten. Miguel brushes his lips over yours. You were not expecting that, and your grip on his wrist falters. Suddenly, you feel the world turn upside down. 

You groan as you land flat on your back from Miguel flipping you over him. As you try to scramble to get up, Miguel straddles your legs and pins your wrists to the mat with one of his hands, reversing the position that you had previously. 

You look up at Miguel hovering over you with the smugest smirk you’ve ever seen on his face. You try to figure out how to get out from underneath him, but he has your legs pinned. You wriggle around and try to thrust your hips up to throw Miguel off you. Your attempts are futile since he’s so much bigger than you. Miguel chuckles lowly at your poor attempts to get him off of you.

“Don’t let the enemy distract you.” He whispers in your ear and chuckles as he moves back and gets off of you. You curse under your breath and stay lying on the mat.

You hear Miguel pad off to a corner of the ring to grab a towel to wipe his sweat off and drink his water. You close your eyes. You take a minute to catch your breath and compose yourself, feeling flustered by Miguel’s actions.

After a few minutes of laying there, you can hear Miguel walk toward you and toss a towel, landing on your stomach. 

“Get up.” He nudges your side with his foot.

You groan while opening your eyes, squinting a bit as your eyes adjust quickly to the bright lights of the unused gym. You took the towel off your stomach and sat up.  You wiped the sweat off of your face and neck. After wiping the sweat off, you wrapped the towel around your neck. You could see Miguel’s hand appear in front of your face. You take it, and he pulls you up from the floor.

“So, how did I do?” You ask him. 

“You’re better than I expected.” 

“Wow, did you expect a fully trained assassin not to be capable?” You scoff jokingly at his words. 

“I mean, you’re better than everyone else that I’ve recruited so far.” 

“That I am.” You smile. You guys leave the old training area and head back to his office. 

“So that’s all you wanted me here for?” 

He nodded at you. “Today is a slow day for anomalies. So I decided it was time to test you.” 

As soon as he uttered those words, multiple alerts went off on his watch. It was as if the universe heard his words. Lyla appeared and alerted Miguel that there was a Rhino anomaly in Earth-5573. He groans slightly in frustration and looks at you. “I know it's your day off, but could you help?”

"Yeah, I was bored doing some paperwork anyway." You shrug.

"Okay, head to that earth, and I’ll send Jess with you.” 

You hum in confirmation. You press your spider pendant. In a second, your suit forms around your body. You look down at your watch and open a portal to Earth-5573. Miguel grasped your wrist before you left, making you look back at him.

Miguel had an unreadable look in his eyes. You look down at his hand and back at him. He seems to snap out of whatever daze he is in and clears his throat while fixing his posture. 

“Don’t be reckless out there.” He says sternly, but you can hear the warmth in his words. 

You smirk at him, “Will do, boss.” You salute him playfully at him. “Oh, Miguel!” You call out to him.“Don’t let anyone hear that, or they’ll think you have a heart.” You tease him before walking through the portal, and the last thing you see is Miguel scowling. A giggle escapes my mouth before the portal closes, and you head to Earth-5573.

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #spiderman x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #daisy's writing #daisy writes for once #daisy writes

[dasy002]

Not me starting "Orange is the new black and falling for Alex Vause

I mean guys LOOK AT HER! She's so fucking cute (and hot)!!😍🥰🤤

#Daisy's writing #Daisy's crush #orange is the new black #oitnb icons #oitnb #oitnbforever #alex vause #piper chapman #acotar #acotar x reader #marvel girl #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff

[dollkisses05]

Yk it's bad when you’re describing your type and it starts to sound more like a father figure 

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #girlblogging #hell is a teenage girl #this is what makes us girls #whisper girl #coqeutte #femcel #gatekeep gaslight girlboss #just girly things #older man younger woman #older men <3 #dilfism #daddy issues #im going insane #lisa rowe #nina sayers #daisy randone #girly tumblr #im just a girl #obviously doctor you've never been a 13 year old girl #oldermen #older men do it better #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #girl interupted syndrome #lana del rey aka lizzy grant #female insanity #female hysteria #lizzy grant #lena writes

[navybrat817]

Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers #motocross!steve rogers x reader #motocross!steve rogers #dialed in: motocross au #champ and daisy #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader

[moonit3]

୨⎯ "MISS POPULAR AND MISS NOBODY" ⎯୧

➽ context warnings: yandere female, wlw!, afab! reader, nsfw, reader encourages the yandere behavior, mentioned murder, masturbation (f!), fingering, mentioned stalking, breaking in, yandere stealing personal items from reader,

➽ word count: more than 2.5k

➽ synopsis: a lost sketchbook brings the two most unexpected people into a unexpected relationship.

➽ yandere! loser girl x popular! reader

➽ a/n: sorry for the long wanting, guys. there were a few problems with my college’s website and I almost lost my spot (but luckily i managed to fix it) and also, got a little depressed with penacony (T-T). but here is another collab with @taeee0902 that I really happy to have written it! however, I changed a few things close to the ending since i felt if I wrote more, things would’ve taken a wrong lead (leaving an open ending(?)) and also, i got lazy (sorry for that). but i hope u guys enjoy it! also tell me if there is any mistake as i wrote this in middle of the night.

➽ inside the library, at the one of the darkest corners of the old building, there is a young woman studying on her art. mumbling to herself about putting extra details on it as she struggles to find more ideas to finish her work before the deadline next week. her eyes couldn’t help but start getting tired after she spend an amount of her money on buying energy drinks to keep herself awake for the rest of the day.

➽ a place like the library was supposed to be quiet, somewhere safe to the rest of the loud and rude students go the campus, but not today. it’s seems those popular kids decided to come over and ruin her peace in less thanks five minutes. however her attention towards the art project got better after buying a large cup of coffee, so daisy pay no mind towards those idiots.

➽ the group of popular kids whisper to each other about the weird girl sitting by herself, saying nasty things about her looks and dark circles under her eyes, already imagining how her dormitory might look like full of dirty and smelly. all of them laughing and smiling about daisy, but not you, instead of making fun of her like anyone else wouldn’t do, you just watch the girl working on something behind the piles of books at the table. she looks kinda cute when focusing, with her tongue out of her mouth and the headphones covering her ears to prevent hearing from hearing anyone talking about her looks.

➽ it’s clear there is something on daisy that calls you, she makes you feel weird feelings that you never felt before with anyone else. the voices of your so called friends become muffled inside your head, now you could only hear the faint song coming out of her headphones, making you wonder about the taste in music she has. maybe she enjoy classic music? probably electronic or perhaps a genre that you don’t know the existence of?

➽ your eyes couldn’t move away from her, not when her body keeps moving in rhythm with the songs playing in her headphones as she works at her personal works. your mind keeps telling to step up and talk with her about anything, however you couldn’t, not when your own body isn’t obeying your orders. after hours and hours on her own little world, she packed her things to leave the library and return to her dormitory.

➽ however, she forget a small notebook at the table and when your friends leave to go to a party, you didn’t hesitate to take and put it inside your backpack before finally returning back to the sorority house and preparing yourself to go to bed after a long day of studying. however that didn’t happened.

➽ your fingers traced on the lineart on the cover. it’s feel wrong to see a piece of art without the artist’s permission, but you needed to find a way to contact the owner and luckily, you find something. a phone number and quickly, you called the mysterious girl to ask if tomorrow would be a perfect timing to give her sketchbook back…and as expected, she agreed to meet you up at the library, at the same spot she forget the sketchbook.

➽ when tomorrow arrived, daisy couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed about this whole encounter. sitting an empty bench, her mind is playing tricks on her about the person might never appear and keep her precious sketchbook to themselves—then a more rational part of the mind forces her to calm down, taking deep breaths before opening her eyes to see a figure standing in front of her.

➽ the smell of sweet perfume and the aura of an angel makes daisy realize the person who has her book is no other than mrs. popular girl, the girl who everyone wants to be and the person who everyone wants to kiss. oh no, she can already imagine the ill words you are going to say at her art and so, daisy prepares herself to be massacred by you….but you don’t.

➽ instead, words of kindness came out from your lips. you explained that you’ve taken a look inside her art—feeling guilty of such act, but at the same time, proud that you have found a great artist like her. “i never thought that ive found someone who uses acrylic markers so well as you! and the way you used post-it to cover up some mistakes is your signature? ahhh…is that how people call it?”

➽ every word coming out of your lips makes daisy feel special, for the first time since she remembers, someone has not only treat her art normally (without making fun of it) and for the first time ever, a person haven’t downgraded her as a lower level. she won’t admit, but it’s really cute seeing your cheeks blush when trying to find unique words to describe some of the art inside the sketchbook.

➽ clap! she closes the notebook to look up at your face, lips fully closed and staring down at her pale skin now red of embarrassment. “t-thank you, [name].” damn it! she wasn’t supposed to stutter in front of you. “and there is no problem that you’ve look into my sketchbook. but i need to go, bye!” without hesitating, daisy made her escape and left you standing you at the park. thinking about the unusual nature of daisy.

it’s been days since daisy has met you and still, she wasn’t able to forget about your lovely smile. her mind couldn’t forget the faint feeling of obsession passion growing inside her heart, making her cheeks red of only thinking about your presence.

the pages of the sketchbook are full of art of your face, smiling directly at the artist. post-it covers some more explicit drawing of your body, all filled of bites, scratches and of course, positions of your body in situations she would never speak out loud. it’s wrong to draw someone like this, she knows. however, as much daisy keeps telling herself to stop, she can only continues to draw more of your body like this, imagining what you looks underneath those fancy outfits.

“i’m sorry,” she said to herself, pulling her panty to the side, already touching her clit while thinking about you. “i-i’m sorry, [name]…” the newly feeling of wetness around her genitalia made easy to slick a finger inside, sensing the warmth of her inner walls.

she can’t put more than one finger without tearing the hymen, but it’s already enough to pleasure herself by it. “hmm-“ the juice leaking allows daisy part her clit apart to take a better look of her pussy when staring at the mirror, admiring the juice leaking from it. “[n-name]!”

daisy can already imagine it. having you above her body and giving orders for what to do to make you happy. her mind playing tricks on her whatever her finger reach a new spot to touch, making the whole body curves with moan and whines escaping from the lips.

it’s didn’t took much time for her orgasm to come, leaving fluids on her finger and wetting the white sheets of the bed. her breath is completely gone when laying down at the bed, not wanting to get up and look at herself at the mirror, but something more strong makes her gain enough stronger to walk towards the mirror.

a disheveled hair covering one of her eyes, cheeks completely red and of course, thighs dirty of her cum that haven’t stop dripping from her clit. never in millions years, daisy believed that she would touch herself in an intimate manner like this, specially towards another girl…but now, daisy knows she is capable of doing anything towards [name].

things aren’t going easy to you, not when the most comfortable hoodie of your has gone missing! how are you supposed to rest after a long day of study without wearing your most precious piece of clothing? you even placed it above behind the door to not forget.

“have you searched everywhere?” one of your friends would asked, worried about the smile missing from your face.

“of course i did! i looked everywhere, even under my bed!” you cried, sad that you’ve now to wear some of the guy’s hoodie in a failed attempt to comfort you. “how am i going to sleep in peace? I can’t buy another hoodie, not when that one have so memories of good times.”

your friends stayed quiet, feeling bad when they have no solutions to your problem. all of them thought for a while, wondering if there is a way to solve the mystery.

“wait! what if you are sleeping walking?” one of the girl suggested, bringing everyone’s attention towards her. “your sleeping form probably hide your hoodie someway you can’t find while awake. so why not set your webcam on to caught you?”

the idea was great, but not their suggestion to your sleepwalking. after classes, you set up the webcam camera to let you catch whoever is behind the missing hoodies (and panties, but you omitted this part from them) and now, you’ve just to wait for the mystery person to show up when you went to attend classes.

with you attending classes for the rest of the day, daisy waste no time to raid inside your apartment by the window. her eyes grown bigger when seeing another hoodie with your scent just laying on the bed.

jumping into the mattress, daisy couldn’t resist the smell of your perfume all over the sheets and so, she began sniffing it and moaning your name while hugging one of your pillows, clearing imaging that is you instead of the fluffy pillow.

“[name]…” your scent never leaves her nostrils, not with her body almost melting into your sheets to become one within it. “you change your perfume, didn’t you? now, you smell even more perfect. just like flower in the middle of the springs.”

she wishes to stay inside your apartment forever, watch your life while hiding inside the wardrobe to protect you from the dangerous people who dare to touch you inappropriately. but, she can’t do that. daisy has the goal of graduating, becoming a famous artist to be the breadwinner when she marries you in a soon future.

feeling her body gain extra energy, daisy leaves your bedroom by the window, but not before grabbing a few personal items to her shrine. completely unaware that her actions were recorded by her own object of obsession.

when you return home after a long day of studying, you become surprised to see daisy roaming all over your room. seeing her stealing the dirty underwear from the laundry basket and even laying down at your bed! oh, is that weird?

yes, but your heart speaks otherwise. watching the recording of the loner girl invading your privacy to her own likes and doing all of her perverts acts makes you feel good, something that you never felt to someone else.

she is so pretty when sniffing your belongings! anyone else would find it weird to see someone doing that, but not you—you find daisy quite cute doing it when thing no one is watching… perhaps, will she go even further if you let her steal more of your stuff? you hope so.

since that day, you began leaving the bedroom messier than before. clothes scented by your usual smell are long gone from the wardrobe, the newly used toys that you’ve brought to tease yourself after classes go missing too. you can only imagine what daisy is doing with those presents you have left behind.

➽ with the exams and classes over, a beach party is thrown to celebrate the end of the semester and of course, you were invited and daisy waste no time to followed you around the party, hiding in the shadows to protect you from anyone who dares to hurt you. the black haired girl doesn’t know that you are aware of her presence, making things even more interesting.

➽ daisy admirers your body dancing in the middle of the room, but at the same time, feeling guilty to be looking at you with lust just like the others. deep down, she knows that she is no different from those who dares to look at you like you are some prey to be tasted, however, daisy isn’t the type to let it go of you so easily.

➽ after dancing for a long time, you decided to rest at one of the rooms upstairs and daisy waste no time by following you. inside of the suite, daisy enters the room in silence and scan the interior, simultaneously looking for a place to hide and your whereabouts. despite her eyes looking at each corner, the black haired girl doesn’t can’t find you anywhere. did she imagined you walking here?

➽ before any reaction could take place, daisy found herself ensnared in surprise, arms wrapping around her small body, putting her into an embrace. cheeks fully red when she realize that it’s you who is holding her, feeling your breath behind her neck. is this really happening? this can’t be a dream, daisy is praying for this to be real.

➽ “daisy, daisy, daisy…” she let her guard down, letting you freely take advantage of the situation to hug her body. “i never expected to see you around here. but, i can’t deny that i am really happy to see you here.”

➽ she doesn’t move. her body stay in place when feeling your hands getting down at her black shorts, untying it to let your hand roam free around inside her panty. it’s makes her body squeal when a finger touch the tip of her clitoris, making her almost melt with it.

➽ “hmm—“ before any of her moans could take over the room, your lips meet hers, dragging her into daisy’s first kiss. it’s feel weird, she thinks, but at the same time…it’s better than she ever imagined! she lets you take control over her body, knowing that you have more knowledge than her.

➽ daisy could feel her body get redder and hotter by the instant you push her to the bed, wasting no time to unbutton the plaid shirt to display the cute black bikini and then to remove her bikini bottoms to take a closer look at her cunt. the night haven’t start and she is already dripping.

➽ a smile slowly make to your lips. to think that daisy was probably so overwhelmed by this situation makes you wonder about how aroused she is. “don’t worry, sweetie.” your finger touches her clit, rubbing it against her walls, but not taking too deep to hurt her. “i’m going to be gentle, okay?”

➽ she nodded. “j-just touch me, please—” there is tears coming out of her eyes when a finger of yours manage to touch a soft spot of her inner walls, words are replaced by whimpers. as you continue to pump your two fingers inside her, daisy couldn’t hold her voice back. it didn’t took much to her moans to echoed all over the room and would probably reach downstairs too if the songs aren’t that loud.

➽ a high pitched scream warned about her incoming orgasm. her cum all over your palm when she finally stops squirting, attempting to regain her breath, cheeks full of redness as she musters enough courage to lift her face and meet yours.

➽ her trembling hands move to hold your hips closer to hers, not leaving a space between your bodies when daisy managed to speak. “can w-we continue it? please, i really need you.” the shyness and embarrassment of her face is gone, replaced by obsession and desire. and you are loving it.

➽ you couldn’t be happier seeing daisy right below your body, ready to take anything you have been planning for the past couple of weeks, even if those things could lead to dangerous acts. she is right inside your palm, ready to be played and loved by you only.

➽ “really?” your hips began to move, dirtying your bottoms with daisy’s fluids and making her whine a bit. “if that’s what you want~” playing with her perky chest, a smile make it way to your lips when going down to her lips, leaving a fainted mark of lipstick on her. “then i will make it an unforgettable night for you, daisy.”

@moonit3 writing

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere female #yandere girl #yandere x female reader #yandere female x female reader #yandere wlw #yandere headcanon #yandere headcanons #yandere x female y/n #x female y/n #x female reader #female reader #my oc daisy #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (5/?)

Part Summary: Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game... The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.

Chapter word count: 3.2k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still Unresolved Sexual Tension, Still Gay Disasters, Wanda is in denial, So are you

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

-

Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game. 

On the flight back to the compound, you, Daisy, Vision, and Natasha, played a card game to kill time. You and Daisy, unfortunately, were on the losing side. Natasha, with her ever-sly grin and penchant for mischief, came up with a penalty—whichever team lost had to hold hands for the rest of the day. 

The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you. Initially, you thought getting out of her way would give her the space she needs after you revealed to her that you willingly participated in her sex dream—something you still constantly beat yourself up over.

But it has become evident that she requires more than just physical distance; she wants you completely out of her life.

On top of this, despite Daisy having moved out to her own room a week after she put in the requisition, your sleep hasn't improved much. Every time you close your eyes, memories flood in: Wanda's voice, her warmth, even her distinct scent, all haunting your dreams just as vividly as they do during your waking hours. 

The lack of sleep begins to take its toll, especially during training sessions. You're off your game, your reactions slowed, and your focus wavering. It's hard to stay sharp when your brain feels like it's swimming in a haze. 

Natasha, always direct, just told you straight up that you look like hell and that you should get more sleep.

Easier said than done.

One evening, after another training mishap, you finally decide it's time to face the root of your sleeplessness. Clearing matters with Wanda isn't just for your peace of mind now; it's essential for the team's safety.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your thoughts, you make your way to Wanda's quarters. In your hand, a small olive branch: her favorite snacks, hoping it might soften the forthcoming confrontation. As you near her door, the muffled sound of laughter stops you. It's her voice, paired with another's—a voice you don't recognize. 

As you inch closer, discreetly peeking into the slightly ajar door, the scene before you sharpens. The unfamiliar man stands closer to Wanda than anyone has in recent memory. Their laughter, her bright eyes, the casual touch of her hand on his arm—it's evident she's enjoying his company.

But it's not just any company, it looks like a date. And to make matters more intimate (and worse), they're headed into her quarters. The man holds a bottle of wine in one hand, suggesting a night in, and she's leading him, her fingers lightly grazing his as they move.

The snacks in your hand suddenly feel out of place, almost childish in the face of the mature, romantic scene unfolding before you. You spin on your heel, a new mission in mind, and beeline straight for Steve's office. Pushing through the door without knocking, you find him hunched over some paperwork.

“Steve,” you start, your voice edged with urgency. “What's the protocol for late-night visitors?”

He looks up, surprised by the sudden interruption, and takes a moment to process your question. “Well,” he begins, scratching his head, “As long as they're not on any criminal or watch lists, they're allowed in the compound.”

“Even this late?”

Steve's eyes dart away from yours for a moment, his cheeks tinting a soft pink. “We're all adults here,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “As long as they're... respectful and discreet.”

Feeling the sting of frustration boiling over, you grit your teeth, barely getting out a terse “Fine,” before making your way out of his office.

On the way out, your gaze lands on a bottle of wine perched on a shelf, an apparent relic from a past era given the thick dust on its label. Without a second thought, you snatch it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out, rising abruptly from his chair. “That's been aging for decades!”

But you're already gone, the echo of your footsteps a testament to your swift departure. Steve stands still for a moment, listening to the diminishing sound. Shaking his head, he mutters an exasperated, “Kids these days,” before turning back to his desk with a sigh.

–

Draining the entire bottle solo does little to coax sleep. Your healing powers, frustratingly, tend to neutralize the effects of intoxication almost immediately.

Still, you appreciate the brief, fleeting buzz. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the shadows morph and play tricks on your eyes. You consider maybe you should've joined Sam on his night flight practices. At least then you'd be physically tired enough to drown out the noise in your head.

Shifting in your bed with a sigh, your thoughts drift to the first time you saw Wanda Maximoff.

Rogers had you cornered, your back on the cold ground, his knee pressing firmly into your chest. The skirmish had been intense, your side versus theirs, and one by one, your allies had been captured or incapacitated. You were the last holdout, defiant to the end.

With Rogers' weight pinning you down, and your arms restrained, you could only tilt your head to the side, ears picking up the sharp, rhythmic clicks of boots against concrete.

Wanda Maximoff made her entrance, and even in your vulnerable position, her presence commanded attention. Those signature boots, the flow of her skirt, the cascade of mahogany hair—all of it painted a picture of power and poise. But it was her eyes that held you—a deep, entrancing gaze that seemed to see right through you.

And now it’s those same eyes that keep you up at night. The same ones that used to lazily open each morning, taking a moment to adjust before locking onto yours, almost lighting up when they did.

And fuck it—you really want to see those eyes right now.

With a sudden surge of boldness, you spring from the bed, with every intention to barge into Wanda’s room and throw out the man from earlier. 

But as you violently yank the door open, you're met with the most unexpected sight: Wanda.

She's standing there, fist raised, poised to knock. The proximity is startling. You can sense the faintest heat coming from her, so intimate it's almost intrusive. Her eyes widen in surprise, but you're too entranced to even process it. Your breath hitches, time seems to slow, and a million thoughts race through your mind.

Before any words can leave your lips, she closes the distance, her hands finding your face as she pulls you into a searing kiss.

Thrown off by the intensity of her kiss, you stagger back a few steps. On instinct, your hands slide down to the back of her thighs, lifting her with ease. She responds instantly, her legs wrapping around your waist, her grip on you tightening. The world blurs for a moment as your focus narrows down to the sensation of her against you.

With a swift kick, the door to your room slams shut, and you quickly reach behind to lock it. Your steps falter when the back of your knees hit the bed, causing both of you to tumble onto the soft mattress. The sudden change in elevation doesn't deter Wanda; she swiftly positions herself, straddling your hips, her hands exploring the contours of your face and neck. 

Drawn to the warmth of her skin, your lips meander down her throat, eliciting soft sounds with every touch. The moment you nip at her pulse point, a deep moan escapes her, its vibrations going straight to your own core.

The sound causes you to pull back slightly. “Wait, Wanda–”

Wanda's brow furrows in annoyance, her crimson lips parting in a soft pout. “Why are you stopping?” she huffs, her tone sultry but also slightly slurred.

That's when you realize it—the faint but unmistakable scent of alcohol on her breath, the slight glossiness of her eyes, and the way her movements, while passionate, are also a tad uncoordinated.

“Wanda, have you been drinking?”

Her head tilts slightly, as if trying to understand the question, her lips parting in a lopsided smile. “Just a little,” she admits, her fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.

You gently cup her face, thumbing away a stray strand of hair. “We shouldn't do this if you're not sober, Wanda.”

“Me being unconscious didn't stop you before,” she hisses, a dark undertone to her voice. The air in the room suddenly grows thick and heavy. Wanda's words, stinging like a slap. 

Your stomach drops, guilt and regret flooding through you. Carefully, you slip from Wanda's hold, swinging your legs off the bed to sit with your back turned to her. That night was something you'd replayed in your mind over and over again, beating yourself up for crossing a line you never should have. The hurt in Wanda's voice only exacerbates the pain.

“Wanda, I—” you start, risking a glance over your shoulder.

“I shouldn't have said that,” Wanda whispers, looking as if she's on the verge of tears. “I'm sorry.”

“No,” you quickly counter, a lump forming in your throat, “You meant that. And you have every right to. It's something we should've confronted a long time ago. Whatever happens next, I'll accept any consequences for my actions.”

Wanda reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder, her voice shaky, “If you're ready, then I'm ready too. I'm not innocent in all of this. I took advantage of the situation as well.”

You shake your head firmly, turning to face her and then grabbing her chin gently, making her eyes meet yours, “No, Wanda. You weren't aware. I was. I knew better. That's on me, not you.”

In response, Wanda dithers, then gently kisses the fingers you have placed under her chin. But she doesn’t stop there. A fire still kindling in her veins, she surges forward to claim your lips once again.

You kiss her back for a fleeting second, getting lost in the softness of her lips. But then you pull back, placing a palm against her chest. “Wanda, you need to sleep. You’re not…We'll talk. I promise, in the morning.”

She sighs, her fight melting away as the weight of the alcohol and exhaustion take over. Relenting, she nods, and you help her get situated under the covers.

You start to arrange some pillows on the floor, intending to make a bed for yourself. But as you're about to lie down, Wanda's sleepy voice stops you.

“Stay with me,” she mumbles. “I've been having trouble sleeping without you. I just... I want you near.”

Drunk Wanda feels like a whole other person, wearing her heart on her sleeve in a way that just makes you want to wrap her up and protect her.

After all that's transpired tonight, you're wary. But seeing her there, curled up and looking so small in that big bed, it's hard to resist. You exhale, "Just for tonight," you murmur, more to yourself than to her.

Climbing into the bed, you maintain a respectful distance at first. But, as minutes tick by, you find Wanda inching closer, until her head is nestled into the crook of your neck. Her warm breath tickles your skin, and you can't help but wrap an arm around her, pulling her close.

With everything that went down tonight, you'd think sleep would be impossible. But with the bed being so comfy and Wanda so close, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. It’s strange how having someone next to you can make things feel a bit better. Even with all that’s happened between you two, Wanda’s still your calm in the storm. 

And you hope, deep down, you're that for her too.

-

The next morning dawns, and you find the space beside you empty.

It's not entirely unexpected.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you notice the other side of the bed is empty. It’s quiet, and the room feels a bit colder than before. Splashing cold water on your face helps you wake up a bit more, but it also makes everything from last night crash back into your mind.

Alright, deep breath. You've got this.

For now, giving Wanda her space feels like the right move. You can't even begin to imagine what's going on in her head. But you–

You've got a pretty clear picture of what you want, and if that means waiting a bit longer for her to figure things out, so be it.

Pulling on some clothes, you decide to bury yourself in work and maybe hit the gym later. A distraction is just what you need right now. But as you leave the room, you can't help but hope that once everything cools down, you and Wanda can finally sort things out. 

Whatever that might look like.

-

The timing couldn't have been worse. Of all the moments for disaster to strike.

The piercing shriek of alarms tears through the compound right before dinner.

It is quickly followed by an earth-shaking rumble. 

The compound is under siege, and this isn't a regular assault. It's planned, strategic, and designed for maximum devastation. The ground quivers beneath you as you scramble to your feet.

Missiles rain down from all directions, their impacts causing blinding explosions and sending shockwaves that rattle the building's foundation. Dust and debris cloud the air, limiting visibility. The familiar hum of the building's defenses rises, but it's evident they're struggling against the barrage.

Steve's voice, steady yet urgent, sounds over the intercom. “All hands on deck! Secure the compound. Natasha, Clint, get the personnel out now.”

You grab your gear and rush out, adrenaline surging. The corridors are chaos—agents, staff, and superheroes all trying to restore order while dodging blasts and the intruders now inside.

You take a sharp turn, making a beeline for Wanda's quarters. As you approach, your heart sinks. The area is a mess of crumbled concrete, twisted metal, and shattered ceilings. The sight is gut-wrenching, and a cold dread fills your chest.

“Wanda!” you shout, your voice raw with fear. Debris crunches under your boots as you race towards the wreckage of her room, trying to find any sign of her.

Distant explosions and shouts echo down the corridor, but they're just background noise to the panic tightening in your chest. You start to dig through the rubble, tossing aside chunks of wall and broken furniture.

“Wanda!” you yell again.

Suddenly, a muffled groan reaches your ears, and you zero in on its source. Frantically clearing away the debris, your hands finally find the familiar fabric of her jacket. Pulling with all your might, you manage to free her from the wreckage.

Her face is smudged with dust, a small cut bleeding on her forehead, but her eyes—those eyes you had lost sleep over—flutter open, meeting yours with a mixture of relief and pain.

“Hey,” she coughs weakly, a small smile forming on her lips despite the situation.

As you reach to help her up, she lets out a sharp, agonized scream that stops you dead in your tracks. Your gaze shifts down, and horror sets in as you spot a length of steel rebar protruding from her side, clearly having pierced through her abdomen. Blood seeps around the intrusion, staining her clothes a dark, foreboding shade of crimson.

“Wanda!” The name escapes your lips in a choked whisper, panic overtaking your every thought. Dropping to your knees beside her, your hands hover above the injury, unsure of what to do. Removing the rebar might cause more damage, but leaving it could be just as lethal.

The anguish in Wanda's eyes is almost too much to bear, tears spilling down her face as she clutches weakly at the protruding metal. “I–It hurts,” she manages to gasp out, her voice trembling.

Distant footsteps grow louder, echoing through the shattered hallways. The approach is too rapid, too relentless. Friend or foe, you can't determine. You don’t have the luxury of time to find out.

With urgency mounting, your eyes, stinging with tears of your own, dart around the destroyed corridor, searching for an exit, a hiding spot, any kind of advantage. But every moment counts. “Hold on, Wanda,” you whisper, your voice thick with desperation. “Just hold on.”

But she's weakening fast. You know you need to act, and quickly. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you place one hand above the wound and the other below. “I'm going to pull it out, okay? I need you to stay with me.”

With a nod from Wanda, albeit a weak one, you summon all your strength, both physical and emotional, and in one swift motion, you remove the metal. Blood flows more freely now, and Wanda's scream fills the corridor, echoing off the walls.

Using your powers, you immediately start to heal the wound, the warm glow surrounding your hands as they work their magic on her injured torso. Wanda's once steady heartbeat is now all over the place under your touch. 

The process is agonizingly slow, and every second feels like an eternity. You literally feel your powers leaving your body, as you concentrate on focusing all your energy on the gaping hole on Wanda’s stomach. You dig deep, pulling out energy you didn't even know you had. It's like trying to stay afloat when every wave tries to drag you under. But bit by bit, you watch the wound start to close, the bleeding halting, and the raw edges of her skin fusing back together.

Wanda's shaky breaths slowly stabilize, but her complexion remains worryingly pale. By the time you've healed the wound to just a scar, you're on the brink of passing out, every bit of energy sapped from you.

“Y/N…” Wanda weakly squeezes your hand. “You... you saved me again,” she says, her voice a raspy whisper.

Your head leans into hers, and you muster a faint smile. “Always for you,” you whisper back. 

You both start leaning in, faces just a few inches away, when–

When suddenly, a sharp pain lances through your chest, quickly followed by another agonizing jolt in your stomach. Not so long ago, you shrugged off a sniper's bullet like it was nothing. But now, these bullets burn, and the shock of not being invincible all the time hits you harder than the actual shots.

Wanda's eyes, previously filled with gratitude, are now wide with horror. The transition from relief to shock to rising fury is evident. Her eyes blaze a menacing shade of red, her powers swelling with her emotions.

“You... you were bulletproof,” she stammers, a trembling hand reaching out to you.

“I thought I was,” you choke out, blood pooling in your mouth and trickling down the side of your lips.

Your strength is fading fast, and everything's starting to go fuzzy. All around, the place is falling apart, but there's this sudden burst of red energy. 

Wanda. 

She's letting it all out, and the power's intense. 

The last thing you hear, right before everything goes black, is Wanda's voice, raw and choked with emotion, screaming your name. “Y/N!”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #daisy johnson

[martybaker]

Writing fanfiction be like

‘Haha this isn’t about me, it’s just a fun fantasy scenario I came up with’

And then you open that document again and stare into a mirror

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #funnily enough this isnt about a kink even though it was inspired by me nervously checking if a fic contains any kinky business #outrageous kinky business #before letting my sister read it #only to discover my demi soul splurged all over the pages #oopsie daisies #you know what actually i believe this applies to original fiction as well #also ​is it wise to post your 4 am thoughts on tumblr dot com

[octoberloved]

#my writing #vent #personal #words #writing #feeling alot of emotions right now #trying to comfort myself #lol #incase it isnt obvious #i fucked up big time today #anyways this is #pt1 #poetry #mistake #aka a big oopsie daisy

[starrystevie]

based on this headcanon i posted previously!

"what do you mean you've never had a valentine?"

eddie rolls his eyes and swings his arms across his front as if to gesture to his entire being at steve's question.

"consider me flattered that you think all this," he gestures again, "would land me a date at all, but it's not like i even want a valentine in the first place."

they glare at each other as steve picks at his cold diner fries and eddie finishes off his strawberry milkshake. they've landed at a stand still, steve trying to figure out how eddie can experience a real valentine's day, and eddie trying to figure out how to talk steve out of whatever sympathy thing he's planning. he opens his mouth to say something, and before he can get a word out, eddie cuts him off.

"whatever you've got cookin' up in that pretty little head of yours, i want you to stop. i don't want a bullshit pity date on a fake holiday that only puts more money in the hallmark ceo's pockets. forget it."

eddie watches as a grin spreads across steve's face and he knows then and there that there's no way in hell steve will forget it.

it's four days later that eddie is packing what is bound to be the best bowl of his life, feet up on the coffee table and the wizard of oz playing faintly in the background, when he hears a knock at the trailer door. he ignores it with a huff and shakes his curls out of his face, bringing the bowl up to his lips only to be cut off by the knocking once more.

"what?!" eddie yells out. he doesn't want to get up and see who it is. he wants to wallow in the weird liminal space of self-pity and anger about capitalism and smoke weed until the flying monkeys in the movie seem even scarier than they already are. he doesn't want to deal with someone when he feels so crushingly lonely-

"it's me!" steve's voice is muffled through the door. "let me in, munson!"

something vaguely hope-shaped catches in eddie's chest before he pushes it away with a deep breath and a shake to clear his head. "open the door yourself, lazy. it's unlocked."

he hears something hit the door, a loud thump that he thinks might be steve kicking the door, and then hears the door handle rattle for a few seconds before steve clearly gives up with a groan.

"come on, a little help here?"

"this better be fucking worth it," he grumbles under his breath. eddie rolls his eyes and set the pipe down on the coffee table next to his pbr with a huff. "fine, fine, i'm coming hold your horses."

he doesn't really know what he is expecting, but steve with his arms wrapped around a bouquet of daisies, a too-big heart shaped box of chocolates, a stuffed bear and a card is at the bottom of the list. he's smiling that smile, the one that eddie takes a mental picture of and files into the steve-shaped folder in his memory every time he sees it, and he has on a stupidly charming button up shirt to go along with it all.

"what." eddie says blankly, the cold february air making him shiver as it hits his bare arms. steve thrusts the gifts towards him with an even brighter smile that has his eyes crinkling and eddie's heart thumping painfully in his chest.

"be my valentine?" steve breathes out and eddie has half a mind to pinch himself.

"steve, i don't-"

"nope," steve responds and pushes past eddie to get into the warmth of the trailer. "you don't get to say no or tell me it's stupid or that today's only a money grab for the corporate elite or whatever-"

eddie balks as steve beelines to the kitchenette to pull out a large glass to put the flowers in. "it is, though."

"-we're going to sit and order a pizza and eat these stupid, over-priced chocolates for dessert, and you're going to like it."

there's butterflies and knots and something that's too close to love fluttering around in his stomach, so eddie sits down on the edge of the arm of the couch and watches as steve finishes adjusting the bouquet.

"daisies?" eddie asks after a beat of silence.

steve beams. "they're your birth flower so i thought..."

dorothy's in the background saying something about not being in kansas and eddie feels the same.

this is all as foreign to him as tin men and scarecrows and wicked witches would be. he's never had anyone, let alone someone like steve fucking harrington, barge into his house and demand a date. he's never wanted anyone to demand a date out of him, especially on valentine's day of all days. he sees steve reach for a phone book and start searching for a pizza delivery number to call and it all feels right in a way that it probably shouldn't.

"are you fucking with me?" eddie asks. his voice feels small.

steve looks up, face smoothing out from determination to something softer, and puts the phone back in the cradle. he hesitates before grabbing the card and teddy bear, this fuzzy brown thing that's holding a heart that says 'i love you beary much', and hands them to eddie.

"not in the slightest," he tells eddie. with a wave of his hand, steve motions for eddie to open the card before pulling his hand up to his mouth to bite at his thumbnail.

the front of the card is simple, just some hearts with a 'be mine' in a fancy script, but it has eddie's breath catching anyway. it's a real card with real stupid hearts and real meaning behind it and it forces him to pause before he can open the rest. he's too cowardly to admit that he's afraid of whatever it could say.

"open it," steve says like it's the easiest thing in the world and eddie pulls his eyes away from the front of the card to see how steve is staring at the paper like it's going to burst into flames. "but don't read it out loud. please."

it's an easy request to follow. with the card open, eddie glances down to see only a few short sentences written and yet it still hits him like an arrow through his goddamn heart.

you're going to think this is a joke, the card starts, but i promise it's not. it's not pity, either. it's just some crazy little thing called love. be my valentine? xo, steve.

eddie can feel how big his eyes are, wide as dinner plates, as he looks between the card and steve who probably won't be hungry for pizza after he finishes chewing off his thumb out of nerves. a laugh sneaks out in a gust of wind through his nose and it has steve wincing despite himself, which has eddie rushing into action.

"you mean it?" he asks, wrapping his hands around steve's shoulders. their eyes meet and steve looks as scared as eddie feels as he nods with a watery laugh of his own.

"yeah, i mean it. you haven't had a valentine and what better way to start than with a harrington that is absolutely nutty over you?"

the tin man is the background singing something about having a heart while eddie's beats out of his chest as steve connects their lips in a soft kiss. and eddie might be against valentine's day, against capitalism and the mass-produced niceties that it brings to the everyday consumer, but if steve keeps pressing into him like this, it might just become his favorite holiday yet.

#under a read more solely for length! #daisies for april cause eddie is an april aries okay #steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #1k

[gyulovly]

WALL SEX WITH YEONJUN?!?!?

drunken desires;

pairing: non established rs!yeonjun x f!reader

genre: smut w/ lil to no plot (a gyulovly speciality;;)

warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied consent, fingering, oral (f!rec), creampie, wall sex in a public bathroom at a club ଘ(*ˊᵕˋ)੭ ♡‧₊˚

notes: ANON LOVE TYY FOR UR WONDERFUL PATIENCE now please enjoy this lil drabble as i work on final edits for jjunies fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

feedback is very much appreciated ><

yeonjuns impatient lips are on yours the second the door locks. an intoxicating taste of hennessy lingers in a lustful kiss, savouring your sweet whimpers nipping at your bottom lip in an inclosed stall. music outside barely registers with his body pressed against yours pinning you to the wall, hands clinging to his shoulders.

skirt hiked around your waist, one hand eagerly works up your thighs the other wrap around your waist. slipping his knee between your legs he pries them apart applying pressure against your clothed cunt. you whine at the touch breaking the kiss, arousal pooling at your core. yeonjun groans, pushing your panties to the side easily slipping two fingers past your sleek folds.

“fuck you’re so wet.”

yeonjuns lustful gaze meets yours wanting nothing more than to burry his entire length inside your cunt. he watches intently the way your face scrunches up in pleasure as he curls his fingers upward, fucking his digits into your hole quickly adding a third stretching you out.

whining at the intrusion, you immediately clench around his deft fingers.

“you like the way my fingers stretch you out?” he rasps, sinking them further only to pull out and roughly fuck them back in at an unfathomable pace.

his words hardly register, legs barely holding you up, body falling limp against the wall his other arm keeping you in place. yeonjun knows youre close from the way your hips meet his brutal pace.

a string of incoherent babbles follows your high as you cum hard around his fingers. drunk on lust yeonjun puts them in his mouth moaning at your taste. you whine at the sight, watching him lick his digits clean.

yeonjuns gaze never leaves yours as he drops between your thighs, burying his face in your cunny. you muffle a long cry gripping on nothing for support, he eagerly laps at your folds up to your sensitive nub. he moans against your clit, shooting vibrations throughout your body, you buck at the feeling, slowly fucking yourself against his face.

“that’s so hot” he mumbles, meeting your pace fucking you with his tongue, intoxicated by the way you roll your hips against his face using his nose to apply pressure on your clit.

“jjunie…” you cry unable to stand any longer, legs beginning to close around his head. yeonjuns quick to keep your thighs apart, propping one leg above his shoulders. you’re close again, and he knows it. yeonjun laps relentless at your folds until you come for a second time. kissing your cunny gently he pulls away slowly standing at his full height.

barely able to keep it together, you buckle attempting to stand on your own. yeonjun has a firm grasp on your waist. he turns you around, chest now flush against the wall and undoes his belt pulling his hard length out from pants.

yeonjun groans at the sight of you, aligning his thick cock at your entrance quickly sinking himself into you inch by inch. you whine at the burning stretch of his length splitting you apart until he bottoms out completely. he curses under his breath before pulling out half way and roughly slamming into you over and over again, setting a brutal pace chasing his high.

blaring music outside is sure to mask the string of lewd moans and sounds of slapping skin that quickly fill the bathroom. you sob as yeonjun pulls your hips harshly against his, one final thrust and he’s emptying himself inside you. you clench around his length milking him of his release.

yeonjun pulls out, slowly registering whose cunny is on full display for him. hole gapping at nothing, he watches as his cum spills out of your cunt. you whimper at the feeling of his seeds slipping down your thighs coating the tiled floor in his essence.

“yeonjun…” you mewl for your best friend unable to stand any longer.

what the fuck did he just do.

© gyulovly 2023 do not copy, modify, repost or translate.

#thoughts thoughts thoughts? i wasnt expecting to write this much losjdjsj #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #txt smut #💌 daisy inbox #anon asks <3 #— daisys thoughts #yeonjun <3

[mxltifxnd0m]

𝙄𝙣𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙

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Summary: You get injured and Steve is a fussy babysitter (mother)

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, The Party x platonic fem! reader

Words: 1.8K

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Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, and gore. fluff and a little spice are thrown in there. Set in season 2 

A/N: wow look at me posting a fic. Haven't done that since July lmao

tbh this fic only came to fruition bc of my dear friend Addie and I’ve been meaning to write more for Stranger Things but I have yet to write for any of the other fandoms on my masterlist lol

and as always all my thanks to my wife and beta reader @songofpatrochilless

𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

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Okay, maybe you should have listened to Steve when he told you to get back on the bus with Lucas, Max, and Dustin. By the looks of it, Steve looked like he needed help with the number of demodogs surrounding him, so you disobeyed his order and jumped out of the bus. You would protect these kids with everything you had since you'd been babysitting Lucas and Dustin since they were 10 and you quickly bonded with Max since you noticed that the two of you were similar in attitude.  

You were able to hold your own until you tripped on a piece of scrap metal, making you stumble to the ground. You noticed that Steve was starting to head back to the bus, so you got up and started to sprint to the bus. You hadn't noticed that one of the demodogs was behind you and managed to scratch your leg, which made you stumble again, but you just turned around, slashed at it with your axe, leaped into the bus, and closed the doors as hard as you could. Getting up fast, you shoved a piece of metal in front of the door and held it there for a moment until the bus shook from something hitting it from the other side. It distracted you for a second, allowing the demodog to swipe at the metal and get its claws into the bus. Quickly, you grab the bat that was in Steve's hands and start hitting it as hard as you can while Steve is trying his best behind you to help.

Faintly in the background, you hear Dustin calling for help until it manages to move up to the roof. You try to get up to go after it but feel a twinge of pain in your leg. But you ignored it and managed to get up anyway. But it seemed that Steve had a different idea. He had grabbed the bat from your hands and got in front of Max to protect her, and the others from the demodog peeking from the hole on top of the bus. Then everything stopped. It seems that the demodogs were running away. You sigh in relief and follow the others out of the bus to see where the demodogs were going.

“What happened?” Lucas asked. 

“I don’t know,” Max responded. 

“Steve and y/n scared ‘em off?” Dustin suggests. 

“No. No way. They're going somewhere.” Steve said grimly, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Well, I guess it’s time for another adventure.” You say, trying to get their minds off of what just happened. But it fails as you wince in pain, the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins is now gone and you're feeling the pain in your leg. You stumble as you try to take a step forward and Dustin notices your leg.

“Shit, your leg is bleeding,” Dustin points out. 

“Watch your language.” You say reflexively. 

Dustin shoots you a look of are you serious right now?

Steve whips his head towards you and his eyes, full of worry, dart down to the leg that was bleeding.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone your leg was bleeding!” 

“Well Steve, I didn't think that mentioning that my leg was bleeding, while we were trying to not die was high on my list of priorities right now.” You tell him sarcastically. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, “Well, we need to treat that before it gets infected.” 

“I don’t think that the boys or Max-,” you gesture to tweens, “-have a first aid kit on them. So I’ll suck it up until all of this is over or until we get to somewhere where we can treat it. Okay, Steve?” 

By the look on Steve’s face, he does not like the idea but doesn’t object since he knows you’re right. 

“Right, now that we have acknowledged that, we should probably go so we can see where the monsters are heading before we lose them.” Everyone nods their head and trek in the direction where the demodogs left. Steve makes you wrap an arm around him so he can help you put less pressure on your leg. 

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It took a while until you were able to treat your leg. You had to trudge through the woods to the Lab, encountering Jonathan and Nancy once you got there, then Hopper came out of nowhere, and you had to sit on Steve’s lap since there was no more room in the back of the truck. 

You are exhausted, the adrenaline wore off in the car and you almost fell asleep on Steve, but he kept you awake by talking to you quietly until the truck had stopped in front of the Byers’ house. Getting out of the truck, you stumbled a bit before Steve got out and slung your arm around his shoulder again, and led you into the Byers’ house.

As soon as you stepped foot into the threshold, Steve whisked you away to the bathroom, sat you down on the counter, and started opening cabinets to find the first aid kit. All the while he was sorting out the supplies he needed to clean the wounds, he was mumbling incoherent words under his breath. 

Once he found the supplies he needed, Steve started to clean the wound on your leg. Minutes passed and the only sounds you could hear were your and Steve's breathing and the occasional groan of pain when Steve would put too much pressure on your leg. Steve would apologize profusely but his face was stoic but his eyes still had concern and warmth. After Steve finished cleaning your wound, he started to wrap your leg up. 

“So, it’s a nice day out isn’t it?” You joked, breaking the silence. Steve jerked his head up from your wound to glare at you. 

“Okay, got it, not the time for jokes.” 

Getting the hint that Steve didn’t want to talk, you zoned out. You could hear the rustling of the feet through the walls of the bathroom. And you could listen to the kids' voices trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Will. What had brought your mind back to the bathroom was a jolt of pain going through your leg and you let out a low groan. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I tie it a little tight?” Steve asked. 

“It’s a little tight Steve, but I’m fine.” 

A tense silence fell over the two of you until Steve decided to break it. 

“What the hell were you thinking back at the junkyard, I told you I had it handled.” Steve started to scold you. 

“Okay, Mom, calm down for just a second.”

“Calm down! Don’t tell me to calm down, you almost lost your leg!” Steve exclaimed. 

“That’s an exaggeration, I just got my leg scratched, and as you can see my leg is still attached.” You gestured to your now bandaged leg. 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Still if you had listened to me and stayed on the bus you wouldn’t be here right now.” Steve says while running his hands through his hair frustratedly. 

“I don’t understand why you care about me getting hurt, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You tell Steve. 

“I’m sorry. So caring for my best friend isn’t a big deal now?” 

You wince at the use of “best friend” but Steve just thought it was because of your leg. You’ve always had a small crush on Steve but it was squashed when he started to express interest in Nancy last year. 

“I didn’t think you cared that much about me, you didn’t hesitate to leave me for Nancy anytime we hung out when the two of you were together.” You say nonchalantly as you shrug one of your shoulders. 

Steve’s eyes seem to soften at your words. You were avoiding his gaze and looking everywhere but him. He notices that, so to get your attention, Steve grabs your chin softly between his thumb and pointer finger to make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, you know I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I would have stopped leaving you if I knew it bothered you so much.” Steve tells you. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m over it now.” You dismiss Steve still trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“Look at me,” Steve asks you softly. And you can’t help but listen to him. So you turn to meet his gaze. This makes you realize how close Steve was to your face. You see him study your face so intently, that you felt his breath on your lips. Steve presses his forehead to yours and stays silent.

Unknowingly both of you have been inching closer to one another. Your lips briefly brushed over his, and you threw caution into the wind and fully pushed your lips against Steve’s. Steve immediately responds by deepening the kiss. He moved one of his hands to cup your cheek and on your waist, while your hands made their way into his hair, tugging on the hairs on the nape of his neck. Both of you didn’t know how long you stayed there kissing in the bathroom, it felt like hours, but in reality, it was only a few minutes. 

“Hey guys, if you’re done, come out to the living room.” Dustin interrupted the two of you, his voice making the two of you break apart. You and Steve hear his footsteps fade away from the doorway, before breaking out in small chuckles. 

“That kid is something else,” Steve says with a small smile on his face.

“He can be a pain in the ass, but you can’t help but love him.” You say which makes Steve nod in agreement. 

“We should get out there before they start getting suspicious or Dustin will throw a fit” 

“Yeah we should. Here let me.” Steve helps you get off the counter and wraps your arm around his shoulder, using Steve as a human crutch. 

You thank Steve and in return, he dips his head down to give you a peck on the lips, which makes your eyes widen slightly in surprise since you weren’t expecting him to do that.

You guys made it out to the bathroom after a couple of minutes of trying to hobble down the hall and Steve making you go as slow as you can. 

“What took you guys so long?” Dustin questions you. 

“My human crutch didn’t want me to go fast.” You gestured to Steve, who just shook his head. 

“I could let go of you if I wanted to.” Steve threatens 

“Ah you could, but you wouldn’t because you would feel bad for letting me stand on my bad leg.” You say with a teasing smile on your face. 

Completely forgetting everyone else that was in the room, Steve pulls you a little tighter to him, “Yeah you’re right.” Steve agrees. You guys just stare at each other for a little until Dustin claps his hands to get your attention. 

“Okay now that the lovebirds are done…” 

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem reader #stranger things #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #will byers #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #mike wheeler #jim hopper #joyce byers #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #daisy's writing

[ministarfruit]

day 21: fantasy ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

#minifemslashfeb2024 #indie games #the moon looks beautiful tonight #tmlbt #tmlbt violet #tmlbt rose #tmlbt daisy #iykyk I guess! PLAY MY FRIENDS' GAMEE!!!! #IT'S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE VN #if nobody got me I know space yuri got me #no but real talk. cetacity make great stuff and you guys should definitely check it out!!! #the writing is SO immaculate WE LOVE TO SEE IT #got my yuris out early today so I can go pass out bye bye

[dollkisses05]

This is too fucking real

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #girlblogging #hell is a teenage girl #this is what makes us girls #whisper girl #coqeutte #femcel #gatekeep gaslight girlboss #just girly things #sylvia plath #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #kate moss #deergirl #im going insane #i’m just a girl #the virgin suicides #cinnamon girl #cecilia lisbon #lux lisbon #lisa rowe #nina sayers #daisy randone #poetry #female manipulator #obviously doctor you've never been a 13 year old girl #elizabeth grant #hyper feminine #im just a girl #lena writes

[anto-pops]

Lost and Found - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: You’d both fucked up, and you both knew it.  But Sebastian was starting to lose himself, and you couldn’t stop sobbing. The air was too thick for words, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest. It was too much to bear in the cavernous room, and you both cracked.  Two years of your steady cadence shuddered and fell like leaves when Sebastian found his voice first.  “I’m fucking done.”

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian dealing with the aftermath of your break-up and working through his feelings.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Mild injuries, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 

Mostly Sebastian’s POV following the argument because I wanted to put him through it 

Maybe you were naive for believing your last year at Hogwarts would be easy, but after Ranrok, Rookwood, the Keepers, and the whole debacle with Sebastian in the catacombs, you were desperate for a sense of normalcy. You had deluded yourself into thinking that things could only get better from then on, and for the most part, they had. 

There was something about this semester, though. Something in the air, or in the water. Something in your clothes and in your bed and in your chest that just kept digging deeper and sharper, leaving you uneasy and on edge. 

You and Sebastian had been tense with each other, even though you didn’t mean to be. Neither one of you meant to be assigning blame so harshly, or to be getting so worked up over nothing at all, ending up angry more often than not. Growing up had proven to be fucking scary, though, and the learning curve could be enough to knock most people on their asses and keep them there for a good, long while. You and Sebastian had juggled these fears and told one another about them after you’d both already blown up, and you had apologized quietly for snapping so hard over dumb shit like spilled vials of Wiggenweld, and sometimes it was enough. 

Sometimes, it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t enough when you threw your hands up one night to scold Sebastian too loudly for staying up late, cutting one too many corners, and getting busted in the restricted section. The weeks worth of detentions had only served to set back his schedule, but it was his own damn fault, so why was he complaining in the first place? You clenched your fists and your voice was shaking when, halfway through wondering aloud when Sebastian was going to learn to be fucking responsible, you realized you didn’t mean that, and that it was kind of a fucked up thing to say.

You might have tried to backpedal– to apologize– but Sebastian was tense. He was scared. He had fucked up his end of term project for Potions, and he was positive he’d basically failed an exam in History of Magic earlier today because of how scatterbrained he had been. He had yet to narrow down a potential career path for after school ended, which his professors never let him forget, much to his annoyance. So as you drew in a breath to stutter out an apology, Sebastian was too afraid of hearing more about what a fuckup he was to let you start. 

Blindly, he picked up the closest thing to him on the desk situated between you both, and shot out of his seat to throw it at the wall. It turned out to be an ink container, the black, murky liquid spilling down the walls of the Room of Requirement, and the sound of the shattered pieces of the bottle cascading to the floor was muted by the volume of Sebastian’s cruel words.

When Sebastian was finally out of breath from screaming and your tears were streaming down your cheeks in earnest– the salt trails equal parts rage, disbelief, and guilt– the two of you stared at one another for a long, heavy moment. 

You’d both fucked up, and you both knew it. 

But Sebastian was starting to lose himself, and you couldn’t stop sobbing. The air was too thick for words, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest. It was too much to bear in the cavernous room, and you both cracked. 

Two years of your steady cadence shuddered and fell like leaves when Sebastian found his voice first. 

“I’m fucking done.” 

—

It had been three days of Sebastian actually staying in his dorm. He hadn’t been sleeping at all, but he was there during the night, and Ominis had been forced to listen to his friend toss and turn fitfully since he’d ended things with you so terribly. 

Sebastian could still hear the echoing slam of the massive oak doors of the Room of Requirement. He could still hear the way you’d choked on your words, and when he closed his eyes in his vain attempts to quiet his mind, all he saw was you. Your hands curled into fists, teeth savaging your bottom lip, tears coursing down your face and dripping from your chin as you’d squeezed your bloodshot eyes closed and started erasing him from your mind. 

At least, Sebastian imagined you had. 

Given his shitty academic performance in recent weeks, Sebastian couldn’t afford to skip classes in order to avoid you, but it turned out that he didn’t have to. You hadn’t shown up once to any of your classes– even the ones you didn’t share with him. It hammered home the finality of what had transpired three nights ago, and if he drank a little too much stolen Firewhiskey to cope with the sinking feeling in his chest, Ominis elected not to say anything about it. 

“You’ve been under a lot of stress recently,” Ominis said later that night, squeezing Sebastian’s shoulder as he used the brunet as leverage to lower himself into the couch cushions. The common room was deserted, and Sebastian was grateful for the lack of prying eyes, curling his hand tighter around the neck of the bottle between his legs. “Both of you have. Sometimes, things just boil over.” 

Sebastian didn’t reply at first. He didn’t even know where to fucking start. Stress couldn’t begin to excuse the shit he’d said to you right before he left. In-between your gut-wrenching sobs, he was certain he had heard your heart crack in two at some point, and it was his own fault. Running his hands down his face, Sebastian heaved a trembling sigh, trying to sort out the crappy thoughts bouncing around his tipsy brain. 

“Was she in any of your classes with you today?” Sebastian asked, his gaze trained on the ceiling as he willed the watery tone in his voice away. He had cried enough over everything– his eyes and his throat fucking ached from it. 

Ominis sighed, reaching to the side table for his steaming cup of tea. He worked it into a safe grip before blowing softly, taking a tentative sip. “Not today, no. None of her roommates have seen her in her dorm either– I already asked.” 

Sebastian just wanted to know how you looked. Maybe it was awful of him to think as much, but he liked to imagine you were faring as bad as he was. You were an impossibly strong and powerful witch, willful and understanding, and you got mad so rarely that Sebastian couldn’t help but loathe the idea of you putting on a brave face and smiling until you were over him. 

What right did he have to be thinking such things, though? He was the one who had walked out. 

Ominis said nothing when he heard Sebastian lift the bottle to his lips again, taking a hearty swig that burned on the way down. Tears welled up in his swollen, brown eyes, and they slipped down his cheeks silently, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his end of the couch. The two men didn’t say a word, but after a while, Ominis tugged Sebastian against his shoulder, letting the heartbroken man cry softly into his pajamas. 

—

“Bloody hell, mate,” Garreth muttered, leaning over his cauldron to get closer to Sebastian. “Two years, though?”

The classroom was quiet, save for the steady bubbling at everyone’s stations. They were supposed to be working on brewing an Edurus Potion, but Garreth seemed more interested in his friend’s failed love life after hearing through the grapevine what had happened. Sebastian didn’t answer, choosing to focus on adding in the Mongrel Fur to his silvery concoction. 

“Together that long and this close to graduation, I thought that was going to turn into fucking marriage, you know? Are you sure it’s–”

Garreth stopped talking when Sebastian slammed his hands down on his table, shattering a flask under the weight of his fist so suddenly, the redhead jumped back with his green eyes blown wide. Sebastian’s stare fell from Garreth to the blood pooling under his palm, biting his tongue through the stinging pain and unintentional tremors while Professor Sharp strode over to see what the commotion was about. 

Docked five house points and dismissed to the Hospital Wing, Sebastian shuffled up the winding staircases in a daze. His head hurt when he walked through the double doors to the infirmary, but he ignored the dull ache and got to dealing with his hand so he could leave faster and sleep through the impending migraine. Once all the glass had been picked out of Sebastian’s cuts and he’d been disinfected, bandaged, and fed a Wiggenweld potion for extra measure, he made his way back to the dorms. 

He dimly realized on the trek down that it wasn’t how long he had been together with you that was preventing him from getting over you. 

—

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Leander said from two tables away, raising his Butterbeer towards Sebastian and Ominis. The two were tucked away in the far corner of The Three Broomsticks at Ominis’ insistence, in some feeble attempt to get Sebastian out of the permanent rut he had found himself in for five consecutive days now. The brooding Slytherin just picked at his bandages, gritting his teeth together and silently hoping that the dirty bar floor would open up and swallow him whole. 

There were too many students around for comfort, and a number of them glanced cautiously between Leander the Sebastian, checking to make sure that the Gryffindor wasn’t at risk of having his nose broken. He meant well– especially after 6 Butterbeers– but Prewett was famously not good with words, and Sebastian didn’t trust himself to speak anymore. 

Leander motioned to Sirona for another drink, and once she’d deposited it on the table with an amused shake of her head, he walked the pint over to the dreary corner. “On me. You don’t need her, mate. Chin up.” 

With a rough clap on Sebastian’s shoulder, he left just as suddenly as he’d appeared. Ominis listened warily for any signs of anger or sadness, but all he heard was the sound of liquid sloshing as Sebastian lifted the drink to his lips and chugged down two thirds of it. 

As he set the tankard down on the table, Sebastian looked up at the cobweb covered beams overhead, acknowledging that no, he didn’t need you. 

But that wasn’t what was keeping him so low, either. 

—

After a week without so much as a glimpse of you, Sebastian took to wandering. He was restless– constantly fidgeting– like he had a fire burning under his ass all hours of the day. His chest was perpetually heavy, as though there were a Graphorn sitting on him, and his hair was in a constant state of disarray from running his hands through it. 

Sebastian was a mess. He knew he was. 

Shit, there really weren’t any other excuses for standing in a fucking fountain in the middle of the night, staring daggers at a stone dragon because there was no one else around to focus his frustrations on. There were probably better places to be shifting through his jumbled thoughts than in the middle of the Transfiguration Courtyard, but at this point, he felt bad keeping Ominis awake all night with his inability to sit still and sleep. 

Either way, Sebastian halted his wading through the water to glare firmly at the statue again, doing his best to imagine a future without you in it. 

Thus far, you had been Sebastian’s first and only love– aside from dueling. You knew him inside and out. You could look at him from across a room and know instantly how close he was to punching someone, how tired he was, or whether or not he was actually listening to a conversation. You had a million different smiles for a million of Sebastian’s petty annoyances, and all of them struck hard and true and left him feeling at peace with the state of his life. 

He knew you just as well– it wasn’t like you were some all powerful Legilimen living in his head. You had your flaws, your insecurities, your anxieties. You made mistakes, and you had inhuman levels of empathy and understanding– which was probably how you had managed to deal with him after your tumultuous fifth-year. 

There was something viscerally calming about you, something that never failed to keep him in line when he was acting like a piece of shit, and that kept him steady when he was feeling anxious. It had been too much, though, and Sebastian knew you took on the burdens of others far too heavily without stopping to think of yourself. It weighed on you. 

You weren’t perfect, but neither was he. 

Leaning against the dragon, Sebastian closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, the water in the fountain lapping at his calves and trickling soothingly in a short arc from the dragon’s parted lips. 

Maybe Sebastian just couldn’t comprehend people as well as he thought he could. That was probably it. 

You were the brains, and he was the brawns. You were philosophical, seemingly making sense of everything that crossed your path, while Sebastian understood too little despite trying. Between the two of you, you managed to make just enough sense of the world to be comfortable. But now everything was over. 

Sebastian kicked at the water idly, dodging under the dragon’s stream to make another lap around the fountain. 

He liked dueling. He appreciated how simple it was– it was do or die, realistically speaking. Cast or get casted on. Win or lose. Whoever he would go up against would inevitably let their mask slip, cluing him in on their thinking, their pain, their weaknesses. It was logical for him, and most of the time, he found his opponents predictable. 

Sebastian never could have predicted that he would walk out on you, though, and he definitely wouldn’t have ever predicted that you would let him. 

It took him a few minutes to realize that he was standing under the dragon’s stream, and it was soaking through his hair and into his shirt. He sighed, slicking his bangs away from his face before letting the cold water rain down on his flushed face for a moment, and then he was stepping out of its way. 

There had to be a reason Sebastian was having so much trouble with this. 

Leander had been unwittingly correct; Sebastian definitely didn’t need you, as in, it wasn’t like he couldn’t breathe without you. He was his own person with his own strengths, and you were the same. It wasn’t even that he had put ‘too much time into it’, as Garreth had implied, because loving you had never felt time consuming. He couldn’t even begin to move on from this, and it was pissing him off, because he was really fucking tired of crying and of staring at walls, unfocused and feeling hollow. 

Sebastian was especially tired of his hands turning over all the time to find yours, because he knew you weren’t there anymore. Still, he couldn’t stop his fingers from spreading to make room between them for yours, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning every room for you. He would never be able to stop his body from shifting to accommodate someone who would never occupy that space again. 

Sebastian fixed his stormy gaze on the dragon again, deep in thought about you. You, who always understood a little more than you probably should have, and who always knew how to read him like a damn book. You would lay beside him every night tangled together, tapping in time to the steady beat of his heart under your ear, quieting the restless drive that seemed to always exist within him.

He could move on from you. He could focus on his studies, the two of you would graduate, and eventually you would both find someone else. But ultimately, Sebastian seriously doubted he would ever feel the bone-deep comfort that stemmed from you again. It seemed highly unlikely that he would ever meet someone that made him feel the way you did. It was like… no matter how long the two of you sat and watched clouds, or meandered through the woods, it was never time wasted. It had always been okay to just exist for a while without doing something, or making something, or going somewhere. When he was with you, it had always felt okay for him to put his problems on the table and walk away from them for a while, instead of obsessively stabbing them and getting more and more frustrated. 

No matter where he went or how successful Sebastian could potentially be, he had a sneaking suspicion that his fingers would always spread just far enough for yours to slide between them. 

The sound of sloshing water filled the courtyard, and then Sebastian’s soaked shoes were slapping against the grass with each pounding step that led him full speed towards the Room of Requirement. The only thought in his mind as he skipped up the steps two at a time was that the peace that came over the both of you when you were together had to be worth fucking trying again. 

There was something to be said about how the normally concealed oak doors were already displayed, as though beckoning him to where he knew you had been hiding for days now. He eased his way inside without a second thought, noting the messy state of the desk in the corner and the stacks of books that had toppled over on themselves beside the entryway. The entire space looked lived in, and your unique scent hit him full force as he strode further into the room. 

When Sebastian reached the bottom of the tiny stairwell leading towards the larger living area, you were looking up from your seat in front of the fireplace that lit the otherwise dark chamber. The look on your sleepless face and the way your unruly hair curled wildly around your temples clued him in on the fact that he wasn’t the only one who had been feeling like utter shit this last week. Your lips parted around a silent gasp as Sebastian stumbled towards you, still panting from having sprinted to get there. 

“Hi,” he wheezed, leaning forward on his knees and forcing a deep breath into his lungs in a bid to prevent himself from passing out. 

“Sebastian?” Your voice was small and raspy– as though it hadn’t been used the entire time you’d been holed up here. “Why are you so wet–” 

“I love you,” he interrupted, his labored breathing filling the silence that followed the declaration. “I love you and I’m so fucking sorry that I’m such a prick and that I hurt you. I fucked up and I can’t take back anything that was said but I wanted you to know how sorry I am, and that I don’t want to be done, and if you aren’t tired of me yet I have a really stupid dueling metaphor for why we should stay together– mmph–” 

You had crossed the space between you both in a flash, reaching out preemptively until your trembling hands clasped Sebastian’s soaked tie to yank him towards you. 

“I missed you,” you whispered as you leaned your forehead against his, your breath warming his chilled lips– just a hair’s width away from kissing– but your hesitation burned like fire between the two of you. “Merlin, Sebastian, I’m so sorry–”

Sebastian reached up to tangle his fingers in your hair, and his damp skin caught on the tiny knots that were scattered throughout the normally tame strands. His sighs mixed with yours, the two of you murmuring tense little ‘I love you’s and ‘I missed you’s until the sounds mingled and settled in time. 

Looping an arm around your waist to guide you towards the modest bedroom the room had conjured up years ago, Sebastian maintained the tentative space between your lips, whispering your name as he led you through the hallway. Your fingers were already working open the buttons on his soaked shirt, trusting him completely to walk you safely backwards to your once shared bedroom. Sebastian slowed, taking his hands off of you only once to shrug out of his button up, dropping it haphazardly behind him. Your strikingly warm hands blazed over his shoulders, then down his chill-ridden arms, before he was bending over to rid himself of his waterlogged shoes and socks. Sebastian stood straight right after, resting his hands on your waist while your shaky hands slipped down to work at the wet catch of his trousers. 

The bedroom door was shut, so your heads banged together when Sebastian accidentally walked you into it. He blurted a string of curses, leaning down to press his lips gently against your forehead apologetically. Blindly, he reached behind you in search of the doorknob– which was quite frankly the only unfamiliar part of the entire room– because the door had never been closed before. 

Sebastian realized belatedly that oh, the door had never been closed before, and the couch you’d been perched on when he walked in had been covered in a nest of thick quilts and extra pillows. 

Oh. 

He trailed his lips slowly across your brow, then down the curve of your nose, before kissing the corners of your mouth so tenderly that the affection left you wanting to cry. Pressing one more kiss to the tip of your nose, he whispered, “You slept on the couch?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and your fingers stilled in their efforts to remove the damp material from Sebastian’s clammy skin. Shivering slightly, you could only look up at him through your lashes, understanding that he wasn’t asking so much as he was stating. Of course he knew you had slept on the couch. 

Silence crept through the dark hallway, broken only by your meek sniffles, before you were nodding against Sebastian’s chest. He lowered his head in an instant, pressing his lips to your cheeks, but the sudden taste of salt and the slip of water had him pulling away to look at you. You were quick to wipe away the fresh tears dripping down your face, your breath hitching on barely-caught sobs and your bloodshot eyes squeezing shut against them. 

Sebastian captured your hands in his and twined your fingers together, nuzzling away your tears without a care for his own, and he hovered cautiously for a beat before finally closing the space between your lips to kiss you. 

It lasted for a moment, then a minute, then a lifetime as Sebastian leaned in closer and breathed love into you, receiving in equal parts the taste of his tenderness returned. He freed one hand to gently cup your face, his thumb wiping through the wet trails that still lingered, and your arm around his waist tightened immeasurably further, tugging him flush to you. 

You whispered against his soft lips then, your voice cracking, “What brought you back?” 

Sebastian pulled back enough to look at you– really look at you– and take in every bit of your face like he would never get the chance to again. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have every expression of yours memorized, but in the last seven days without seeing that warm light in your eyes, the world had seemed a whole lot darker. He sighed, swallowing thickly as he wondered how to begin phrasing every bottomless thought that he’d had since he realized why he hadn’t been getting over you. 

He didn’t need you to function. His relationship with you wasn’t an investment or something that could be measured with time, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t imagine a future without you. It was just that he didn’t want to. 

Sebastian didn’t want to live without you beside him. He didn’t want to grow old without you, and he didn’t want anything but to be surrounded by your warmth every day for the rest of his life. 

He leaned forward and kissed you again, just as gently as the last dozen times, and you reached up to cradle the hand he still had cupped against your cheek. Breathing a long sigh, Sebastian stared at you longingly as he murmured, “Wherever you are is where I want to be. It’s home. I wouldn’t be stranded without you, but the place I like best is wherever I can be next to you.” You trembled against him, both of you biting back resurfacing tears and failing miserably. “If it’s okay, can I come home?” 

A tiny whimper slipped from your throat as you nodded, wiggling your arms up to throw them around Sebastian’s shoulders, and then you were sniffling feebly into the crook of his neck. Sebastian wrapped his arms around your wait, holding you tightly as he fumbled for the doorknob, and by the time the two of you had crossed the short space to the bed, you were somewhere between laughing and crying. 

Your hands moved back to Sebastian’s glued on trousers, leaning up into his kisses eagerly as you swiftly got to removing the painfully cold attire. With a little assistance from the brunet, the two of you managed the pants– by the grace of Merlin and more than a little shimmying. Sebastian’s briefs and the oversized jumper you wore vanished significantly quicker than the rest, and he quickly eased you down onto the soft, familiar sheets. 

Sebastian rolled over beside you, lifting his hips to haul the covers over you both before he pressed his still-chilled body into your welcoming embrace, and he relished in the shiver that coursed over you from the contact. 

When your lips came together the next time, neither one of you pulled away, leaving your tears outside of the safe, blanketed world you’d created for yourselves. The whispered love that twined like smoke alongside the quiet sounds of your hands relearning each other’s skin filled the air for hours. Gasping breaths and soft moans of your name were all you could hear, Sebastian’s gentle affirmations of reverence making your heart swell with unbridled affection. 

You stayed like that all night, wholly content for the first time in a good, long while. When the sun finally began to cast its waking rays through the paneled window, bathing you both in a golden glow that illuminated the drying sweat on your skin, Sebastian’s soft murmurs and twin heartbeat lulled you into a blissful sleep.

Just before unconsciousness stole you away, you threaded your fingers through his own, letting your intertwined hands rest atop his chest in the same way Sebastian had so dearly missed. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, closing his eyes against the growing morning light, and he felt lighter than he ever had as you thoughtfully whispered, “Welcome home.” 

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x female! reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #my writing #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x mc #angsty pain because it can't all be daisies and roses where Sebastian is concerned

[f4irydaydreams]

eddie finding you asleep in his room

a/n inspired by this post:) friends to lovers has me in a chokehold. the ending kinda sucks but i tried

there was always an unspoken bond between you and eddie munson. the two of you had been joined at the hip ever since eddie lent you his ac/dc tape in middle school when he found you crying over your broken bowie cassette on the field. “it’s not the same but it’s good music! you should give it a go”.

the two of you became the pair of unlikely friends. you went on to join the cheer team and he became known as the school freak. despite your different endeavors you always stood by him. every time the basketball boys were making fun of eddie you always stood up for him.

you both grew extremely close over the years. there were lingering stares and soft touches shared between you that made people question the status of your friendship. little dustin henderson would always point out eddie’s heart eyes for you and your friends robin and steve were convinced the two of you were secretly dating.

sure you spend every friday night watching movies on his couch unconsciously cuddling. and he would pick and drop you around everywhere. and you would constantly doodle on his pretty hands. but friends do that too right?

either way you were both too afraid to burst your little bubble by sharing your secret feelings for each other. it was easier this way.

since you both had busy schedules it was very common for eddie to sneak into your bedroom at night and spend time with you.

tonight you were feeling extremely restless. your anxiety was at an all time high and stress with your parents and school was piling up. you were waiting for eddie to show up hoping to get your mind off things.

you were simply lying on your bed wearing a simple tank and some sleep shorts. your headphones were blasting the new metallica album as you tried to drown out your thoughts.

then it hit you– he wanted to finish the big campaign today. he mentioned that they would run late. it was getting pretty late and you were sure eddie wasn’t showing up soon.

you looked out the window longingly and decided to fuck it. you threw you walkman on the bed and carefully climbed out your window. it took longer than usual since you took your bike but you were soon at standing outside of eddie’s trailer. you had a spare set of keys so you let yourself in.

following the familiar steps you made your way into eddie’s room. the thick scent of his cologne, weed and leather filled your nose. the trailer was cold and empty you suddenly felt very cold in the little clothes you were wearing.

you grabbed one of his over sized band t-shirts and put it on. it was big on you and comforting but you were still cold. the minute your head hit his pillow and you snuggled into his sheets your eyelids felt heavy.

you were so very tired and restless. the minute you felt sleep tug your body you decided to give in.

when eddie walked into his room after his long and very intense hellfire campaign the last thing he expected to see is you snuggled into his sheets sleeping in his clothes. he felt like his heart grew three sizes as he stared at you.

seeing you on his bed in his shirt was a sight for sore eyes. he thought looked absolutely beautiful, all wrapped up in his bed in his clothes.

you must’ve been exhausted because you didn’t feel his presence in the room. he placed a soft kiss on your head and left the room to get changed.

now in his sweats, eddie slowly crawled into the bed with you. you stirred as you felt the a dip in the bed. you subconsciously reached out and felt eddie’s warm body beside you.

too tired to form coherent thoughts you mumble a soft “missed you” as you snuggled into his chest.

slightly hesitating at first eddie wrapped his arm around you holding you close.

“yeah? me too. sorry i’m so late sweetheart”

“s’okay eds”

“you came all the way here to see me?”

he slowly started to stroke your hair as he spoke. you were practically purring in his arms.

“was feeling anxious”

“i’m sorry i didn’t come over tonight. m’right here now gonna let you go”

a comfortable silence filled the air. you’d think that being this close to each other would make you nervous but the two of you never felt more at ease.

“you know i really love you eddie”

“i love you too sweet girl”

even in your fatigued states, you heard him. you spent years leaving things unsaid maybe tomorrow you’ll have the courage to open up your heart.

— thank you for reading! comments and reblogs appreciated <3

#daisy writes 🤍 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader comfort #eddie munson x reader cute #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #x reader

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (4/?)

Part Summary: There's a new recruit who seems to have taken a liking to you. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened.

Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, Gay disasters

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Part Five | Series Masterlist

-

The newest recruit, Daisy Johnson, seems to have taken a liking to you.

At least, that's what Wanda Maximoff has observed since Daisy's inclusion earlier this week.

From the corner of her eye, Wanda constantly catches the newbie stealing glances at you during training, meals, and even debriefing sessions. It's not that she keeps tabs on you or anything, but she can't help but notice when you catch someone’s attention, especially when that someone seems to be nearly everywhere you are.

In every training session, Wanda notes Daisy choosing to partner up with you or standing close by during briefings. Even in the more relaxed moments within the compound, Daisy seems irresistibly drawn to you. Wanda doesn't miss how Daisy occasionally throws prolonged glances your way, or how she laughs a tad too enthusiastically at something you say.

And it doesn't help that you and she walk on eggshells around each other since your confession in your old cell.

Neither of you has made any attempts to talk to the other again. Not even a glance, as if pretending the other doesn't exist will make that fateful night disappear. But for Wanda, the more she tries to push it out of her mind, the more sharply it edges back in, refusing to be forgotten.

She can't help but wonder: Was it wrong of her to move like that in her sleep? And were you out of line for not waking her up right away? 

And more importantly: Were you so repulsed by it that you chose a prison cell over sharing her bed?

All these questions keep swimming in her mind, to the point where she has considered going to whoever handles this sort of stuff at the compound—kind of like an HR Department, but for Avengers. Perhaps a course on understanding boundaries might help you both move past this and start anew.

But then again, addressing it means dealing with it, and right now, just avoiding the whole mess seems so much easier.

As Wanda turns a corner in one of the compound's sprawling hallways, her eyes catch sight of you and Daisy. You’re both laughing, heads thrown back, not a care in the world. Wanda's eyes involuntarily narrow at the sight, taking note of the negligible distance between you two. Daisy's hand is resting lightly on your arm, fingers dancing along the fabric of your shirt as she emphasizes a point in her story.

Wanda tries to walk past nonchalantly, yet can't seem to dispel the feelings that bubble up each time she sees you with Daisy.

It's maddening. If things were normal between you and Wanda, maybe she wouldn’t feel so…threatened. 

But they aren't. 

And she does.

-

Wanda's patience is tested to its limits one Saturday afternoon. 

Tasked with joining Sam to whip up dinner for the team's weekly movie night, she's diligently chopping vegetables in the expansive kitchen when Daisy sidles up to her.

“Hey, uh, Wanda, right?” Daisy begins, a casual tone to her voice.

Wanda doesn’t even look up as she answers, “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something about Y/N?”

Wanda's grip on the knife tightens just a fraction, her posture stiffening. “I think it’s better if you ask Vision–he monitors all of us even more closely than the cameras we have everywhere.”

As the words leave Wanda's mouth, Vision, who’s been quietly tinkering with a device on the other side of the kitchen, looks up suddenly, his usually stoic face showing a hint of surprise.

“I assure you, I do no such thing,” he starts, his tone a touch defensive. “Monitoring everyone is not part of my programming or my personal interests.”

Daisy raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Sure, Vis. Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

Vision clears his throat, looking somewhat flustered, “It is not a 'hobby' of mine.”

Wanda can't help but smirk slightly at Vision's discomfort, her attention briefly diverted from the awkwardness with Daisy. “It's just a joke, Vision. Relax.”

He gives a curt nod, turning his attention back to the device in his hand, though he remains noticeably quiet.

Daisy chuckles lightly, but her curiosity remains unsated. “Anyway, back to Y/N?” She prompts, looking expectantly at Wanda. “Steve mentioned that if anyone on the team knows Y/N best, it'd be you, considering you two shared a room.”

Fucking Steve.

Wanda takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She finally glances up to meet Daisy's eyes, her expression guarded. “What do you want to know?”

“Is Y/N... you know, single? And what do you think of them?”

Wanda's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes sharpening immediately. She places the knife down on the countertop with more force than necessary. “Why do you ask?”

Sam whistles softly, making it obvious he's eavesdropping. “Damn, getting intense over here,” he comments with a grin, making no effort to hide his amusement.

Daisy shoots him an exasperated look, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Trying to have a conversation here, Wilson.”

Ignoring Sam's teasing, Wanda presses, “I just want to know why you're asking.”

Daisy sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “We've been talking a lot, and I was just... curious.”

Sam, not missing a beat, chimes in, “Curious or interested?"

Daisy rolls her eyes. "Nosy much?"

Wanda reaches for the shredder and starts grating all the remaining vegetables rather aggressively.

Sam laughs before lifting the spatula to his lips to sample the soup he’s making. “Just trying to get the lay of the land.”

“Why don't you focus on your soup, Sam?” Wanda retorts, though her eyes never leave her task.

Sam smirks, catching the hint of jealousy in Wanda's tone, and decides to push just a little further. “You know, Wanda, if you have something to say about Y/N, now's the time.”

Wanda's eyes flash red for a brief moment. Sam holds his hands up in mock surrender, but the smirk doesn’t leave his face.

Daisy looks between them in confusion. 

Taking a moment, Wanda sets the shredder aside and faces Daisy squarely. “Y/N almost risked their life to save mine. If you're looking for a testament to their character, well, actions like that are rare to come by.”

“And as for Y/N’s relationship status,” she continues, a bit reluctantly, “I believe they're single.”

Daisy's gaze becomes gentle, a dreamy quality entering her eyes. “That's... truly heroic,” she whispers, almost to herself. Wanda feels a sudden urge to throw up.

She then flashes a grateful smile at Wanda. “Thanks, Wanda. That means a lot coming from you.”

Wanda merely nods before clearing her throat. “Well, now that that's settled, could someone pass the salt?”

It’s Sam who hands it over, but not before saying, “Try not to add too much. We wouldn't want dinner to be as salty as some people's moods.”

-

Tony is, unsurprisingly, first in line, eagerly eyeing the roasted vegetables. “If the taste is half as good as the smell, we’re in for a treat tonight.”

Steve chuckles, replying, “I think we can trust Wanda and Sam's culinary skills by now.”

Natasha and Clint are engrossed in a deep conversation about an upcoming mission, while Bruce discusses some new upgrades with Tony. Vision, for his part, is explaining to Peter the intricacies of using Wanda's food processor.

As the chatter continues, Wanda moves to retrieve the centerpiece of the dinner: a golden-brown roasted chicken. She feels everyone's eyes on her, awaiting the moment the chicken will land on the table. However, her gaze is involuntarily drawn to the table where she sees you and Daisy sitting next to each other, laughing about something. 

In that split second of distraction, her fingers graze the scalding metal rack of the oven. A sharp hiss escapes her lips, the sudden pain evident on her face. Dropping the oven mitts, she mutters a quick “Excuse me” and dashes off to the nearest bathroom, intending to run the burnt area under cold water.

You notice her quick exit and, after a brief moment of hesitation, quietly follow her. As you near the bathroom, the sound of running water reaches your ears.

Without knocking, you enter. Wanda is cradling her hand, trying to soothe the burn. 

Your voice is soft with concern when you speak, “Wanda? Let me help.”

Wanda quickly pulls her hand away from the water, her eyes widening as she registers your arrival. “I’m fine,” she snaps, her posture tensing further. Water drips from her fingers onto the porcelain sink.

You take a hesitant step forward, your intent clear. “I can heal it. Just let me—”

“I said I'm fine,” she interrupts, her voice sharp. “Sometimes it's good to feel pain, you know, heal the natural way. Not everything needs a... quick fix.” She glances pointedly at you, an obvious jab at your abilities.

Your eyes narrow slightly at her comment, but you keep your emotions in check. “It's not about the quick fix, Wanda. It's about helping someone in pain, even if that someone is stubbornly pushing everyone away.”

She sighs, her defenses visibly waning. “Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be out there with Daisy?”

“What’s Daisy got to do with any of this?”

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, averting her gaze. Even if she has an answer ready, she's not sure she'd want to voice it.

With a sharp exhale, your frustration bubbles over. 

“Fine,” you say tersely, pointing at her burned hand. “Let it scar then. See if I care.” 

Moving swiftly, you leave the bathroom without waiting for her response.

Wanda stays there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths and trying to steady herself. When she finally decides to rejoin the team for dinner, she notices the empty spot beside Daisy. You're gone, probably to your room.

Regret coils in her stomach. She didn’t mean for things to escalate like that, especially when all you were trying to do was help. 

-

She hasn't felt this anxious in a long time.

It reminds her of the days after she lost everything that truly mattered.

Checking that everyone is probably asleep, Wanda takes a deep breath and heads towards your room. Her mind races, trying to figure out what to say, how to apologize. 

She stops in front of your room and then gently raps on the door, listening intently for any sign of movement inside. “Y/N?” she calls out hesitantly. She doesn't expect the door to open immediately, and when it does, it's not you who answers. 

Instead, Daisy stands there, looking a little startled too.

“You…” Wanda hisses slowly before she can catch herself.

Daisy quickly registers Wanda's reaction and raises her hands in a placating manner. “Oh, right. Sorry, this must be weird. My apartment had a plumbing issue, a flood actually. Since I'm joining the team permanently, I made a request for a new room. But until that's sorted, Y/N offered me theirs.”

Wanda's insides churn with a jealousy she can't quite place, but she masks it swiftly, painting on a polite smile. “And where's Y/N now?” she asks, her voice deceptively calm.

Daisy bites her lip, appearing somewhat embarrassed. “They're asleep,” she admits. Stepping aside, she reveals you, nestled in a makeshift bed on the floor, blankets arranged around you for some semblance of comfort.

Wanda's eyes soften at the sight of you, but her heart also tightens in anger. You've given up your bed, your comfort, for Daisy. You’re doing for someone else what she’s done for you. It feels like an invasion of something she thought she exclusively shared with you.

Daisy shifts, catching Wanda's stare. “They wouldn’t listen to me,” she explains, a bit embarrassed. “Kept saying it's fine and that I should take the bed.”

Wanda just nods, a tightness in her voice. “Sounds like them, alright.”

Trying to ease the tension, Daisy adds, “Y/N always talks about you, you know. In a good way. Maybe you two should just... chat.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow, a little surprised. “They do?”

Daisy chuckles. "Yeah. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Night."

“Night,” Wanda murmurs, still looking at you.

Once Daisy’s gone, Wanda hesitates. Part of her wants to barge in, shake you awake, and have that long overdue talk. Instead, she absentmindedly touches the burn on her hand, its sting a reminder of how you tried to help her earlier. It's jarring to think that you, even after avoiding each other for days, were ready to heal her.

And damn, it hurts. Not the burn, but the realization of how much she misses you. 

-

Wanda doesn’t get any chances to talk to you for the next several days because you–along with Natasha, Daisy and Vision are called away to a mission. 

Each day you’re away, Wanda feels the weight of anxiety pressing down on her chest. She can’t help but worry, replaying every worst-case scenario in her mind. She catches herself multiple times pacing by the control room, asking for updates, or staring out at the landing pad, waiting for the quinjet to return.

When word finally arrives that the quinjet is en route back to the compound, Wanda finds herself in the hangar before she’s even consciously made the decision to be there. Steve stands next to her, his face betraying his own relief. A few other team members have gathered too, all awaiting the return of their comrades.

The roar of the quinjet’s engines fills the air as it makes its descent. As the ramp lowers, Wanda's eyes scan the disembarking figures, and they lock onto yours. You look a little worn, a fresh bruise marring your cheek—oddly enough, one you've chosen not to heal. But beyond that, you seem okay.

Her heart swells with relief.

You seem to pause for a second, looking genuinely shocked to see Wanda amongst those waiting. For a moment, your eyes lock. She offers a tentative smile, full of hope, and it seems you're about to approach her. But then, as you step further out of the quinjet, Daisy appears at your side. The way she comfortably intertwines her fingers with yours sends a sharp pang through Wanda's heart and her smile falters.

Steve claps his hands together, attempting to reign in the team's focus. “Alright, debrief. How did it go?”

Natasha, with a deadpan expression, shoots back, “Could’ve gone smoother if you’d packed me a flask, Rogers.”

Steve smirks, shaking his head. “Alright, Romanoff. Just don’t make us wait too long.”

As you approach Wanda, your expression gives away nothing. “Hey,” you murmur, voice neutral. But Wanda’s eyes have darted down to where your hand is connected with Daisy's. Her eyes harden, and when she meets your gaze, they’ve become unreceptive.

Misreading the tightening of Wanda's features as coldness, your frown deepens. You'd thought some time apart might've helped ease the strain between you two, but guess not.

Just as you're about to say something to her–maybe an explanation as to why you’re holding Daisy’s hand–Daisy gives a playful tug on your hand, breaking the moment. “Come on,” she chirps. “Let's head in. I heard there's pizza, and I intend to eat more slices than you.”

You allow Daisy to pull you along, throwing one last glance at Wanda over your shoulder, wishing she'd say something–anything. 

But Wanda's back is already turned to you. Her posture rigid, fists clenched at her sides, the knuckles going white. In that moment, Wanda is making a silent vow to herself, one of emotional self-preservation.

She walks away, her heels clicking against the ground with each firm and decisive step. Deep down, the walls she'd slowly been dismantling brick by brick in the face of a potential future with you were being hastily reconstructed. 

She’s survived worse things.

Of course, she’ll survive you.

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