#it took her a second to recognize me and then she got so excited 😭😭

[theborzoiarebackintown]

I got to see baby Light at the show this past weekend!! She’s turned into a lovely young lady and is still the sweetest little girl.

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 5: Stalker

summary: you and vi try to discuss what your relationship is now and how this should work, but it was interrupted by a blue-haired girl.

mentions: fluff, pathetic!vi, fame!au, modern!au, kissing, groping, stalking (saesangs), violence, choking (not by vi tho 😔)

notes : i did this while sick and on my period. it has not been proofread 😭. love yall 🫵🩷 im also resetting my taglist for this so if you want to be tagged for the next chapter comment!

The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays spilling across the bustling streets as you and Mel stepped out of the practice studio. Your legs ached from the grueling rehearsal, but Mel’s persistent prodding about getting ice cream had finally worn you down. She strolled beside you, her duffle bag slung lazily over her shoulder, an almost mischievous grin plastered across her face.

The bell above the shop door chimed softly as you entered, the cool air inside offering a sweet reprieve from the lingering afternoon heat. The scent of freshly baked waffle cones filled the air, mingling with the bright, sugary notes of the various ice cream flavors on display. The shop was quaint and cozy, with pastel-colored walls and little booths tucked into corners.

After some debate, you both settled on your orders—Mel opting for a double scoop of chocolate fudge brownie while you stuck with a classic strawberry swirl. Finding a table by the window, the two of you slid into the booth, the faint chatter of other patrons blending into the background.

“So,” Mel began, her spoon poised above her ice cream as she leaned in slightly, “are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”

You gave her a confused look, though you knew exactly where this was heading. “Tell you what?” you replied, feigning innocence as you took a bite of your ice cream.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she teased, narrowing her eyes. “Vi. You two were all cozy at the club, and now you’re walking around with this dreamy little smile on your face. Spill it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “There’s nothing to spill,” you said, shrugging. “We haven’t confirmed anything yet.”

Mel’s spoon clattered against the side of her bowl as she gasped dramatically. “Yet? So, you’re telling me there’s a ‘yet.’ What does that mean? Did you two talk? Kiss? Make declarations of undying love under the moonlight?”

“Mel!” you hissed, though you couldn’t help but laugh at her theatrics. “Okay, fine. Yes, we talked. And... we might have said ‘I love you.’”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she just stared at you in disbelief before breaking into a wide grin. “Oh my God, you’re back together, aren’t you?”

You shook your head. “No, not yet. It’s... complicated. We’re figuring things out.”

Mel’s teasing expression softened slightly as she leaned back in her seat. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re giving her another chance. You two were kind of disgustingly perfect together.”

You rolled your eyes again but smiled, a small, hopeful feeling blooming in your chest. As you sat there, sharing laughs and finishing your ice cream, you realized how much you’d missed moments like these—simple, carefree, and filled with the warmth of friendship. For now, that was enough.

The peaceful moment in the ice cream shop was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the window. Startled, you and Mel both turned your heads toward the sound. Outside stood a small group of fans, their excited faces pressed against the glass. Some of them had phones in hand, already snapping pictures.

You smiled politely and gave a small wave, as did Mel, though her grin was a bit tighter. “Guess we’ve got some fans in the neighborhood,” she murmured, trying to sound casual.

At first, it didn’t seem too serious—just a few people recognizing the two of you and sharing their enthusiasm. But as the seconds ticked by, the crowd began to grow. More people gathered outside, camera flashes illuminating the window in quick bursts. Their murmurs grew louder, and some started knocking again, calling out your name.

You exchanged a concerned look with Mel, who quickly glanced toward the door. “I don’t like this,” you admitted, lowering your voice. “It’s getting out of hand.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Mel replied, scanning the shop. “Let’s get out of here.”

You hastily placed cash on the table to cover the bill, grabbed your bag, and reached for Mel’s hand. Together, you ducked toward the back exit, keeping your heads low to avoid drawing even more attention. The two of you slipped through the rear door into the parking lot, your steps quickening as you approached Mel’s car.

Once inside, Mel made sure to lock the doors immediately. You glanced nervously over your shoulder as you spotted some of the fans spilling into the lot, their phones held high as they rushed toward the car. “They’re taking pictures of your license plate,” you said in a hushed voice, your stomach knotting.

“Not for long,” Mel muttered, her hands steady on the steering wheel as she started the car. She pulled out of the parking lot, her jaw set in determination. The fans ran after the car for a few seconds, some shouting and continuing to record. Mel turned onto a side street, taking back routes she clearly knew well.

The tension in the car was palpable as she zigzagged through the unfamiliar streets, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. After what felt like an eternity, she finally let out a breath. “Okay, I think we lost them.”

Your own sigh of relief filled the car as you leaned back against the seat. The adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your heart pound. “Holy shit, that was intense,” you said, shaking your head. “We just debuted... I didn’t think we were that popular.”

Mel laughed nervously, her hands still gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah, I thought we had some time before all this crazy fan stuff started. Guess not.”

You looked out the window, trying to process what had just happened. Your thoughts were interrupted as Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Where should I drop you off?” she asked, her tone steady but still tinged with concern.

You gave her the address to Vi’s apartment, leaning back in your seat and letting out a sigh. “Make sure you change your license plate as soon as possible,” you added, your voice slightly strained from the earlier chaos.

Mel nodded with a small grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. No way I’m letting some overly excited fans track me down.”

When you arrived at Vi’s apartment, you thanked Mel and watched her car pull away before heading upstairs. You still had the key Vi gave you, so you let yourself in. The familiar creak of the door echoed in the apartment, and you were immediately greeted by the sight of Vi sprawled lazily on the couch, a bag of Doritos in one hand and a Dr. Pepper can in the other. She was watching The Boys with the volume high, her focus on a particularly dramatic scene.

Hearing the door, she turned her head and smirked when she saw you. “Hey, hot stuff. Sit down,” she said casually, patting the empty spot on the couch beside her.

You couldn’t help but smile as you set your bag down and joined her. “Aren’t hockey players supposed to be on diets? You’re eating Doritos and drinking Dr. Pepper,” you teased, gesturing at the junk food scattered on the coffee table.

Vi chuckled, shrugging as she took another sip of soda. “Well, I’m not an idol, am I? And besides, I need the calories. Helps me bulk up, and you like that, don’t you?” she teased back, giving you a playful wink.

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

The moment was interrupted by a notification on your phone. Your smile faded as you opened it to find a TMZ article detailing your earlier encounter at the ice cream shop with Mel. The headline was bold and dramatic, emphasizing how close you and Mel came to being trampled by a growing crowd of fans.

Vi immediately noticed the change in your expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning over to grab your phone before you could stop her. Her brows furrowed as she read the headline, her expression shifting to concern. “You almost got attacked by fans?”

You shook your head, trying to downplay it. “We didn’t, so it’s okay. It’s normal… I just didn’t think it was gonna happen so soon,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

Vi placed your phone down and turned her full attention to you. “Baby, your group’s account has over 12 million followers across Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok combined. Of course, you’re popular,” she said matter-of-factly. Her tone softened as she added, “You should probably get a bodyguard.”

You let out a small sigh, leaning back against the couch. “I didn’t think I’d need one this early on. I just want to enjoy things like going out for ice cream, you know? Without all… that.”

Vi reached out, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I get it. But your safety comes first, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The next few weeks settled into a comfortable routine: you and Vi alternating between each other's apartments to talk, cuddle, have sex, and then cuddle again before practice. It was a rhythm that felt natural, almost like you were already in a relationship—but Vi hadn’t asked you to be her girlfriend, nor had she even hinted at it. The silence on that front gnawed at you, and today you decided to finally bring it up.

When you unlocked the door to Vi’s apartment, ready to address the question head-on, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Standing in the middle of the living room was a tall, elegant woman with striking blue hair. Her posture was effortless, exuding a kind of natural grace that instantly caught your attention. The two of you locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before Vi appeared from the hallway, her usual confident grin plastered across her face.

“Hey, baby,” Vi greeted casually as she walked up, slinging an arm around the woman’s shoulder. “This is my friend Caitlyn. We’re gonna be modeling together for Vogue.”

You looked between Vi and Caitlyn, your mind scrambling to process what you were seeing. Caitlyn was stunning, her poise and beauty making her seem almost unreal. When she extended her hand for a handshake, it was with the kind of grace that made even that simple gesture look elegant.

“Hi, I’m Caitlyn. I’m an ice skater,” she said, her voice smooth and polite.

You accepted the handshake, your own movements feeling stiff in comparison. “Hi, I’m (Y/N),” you replied, your voice steady despite the sudden tightness in your chest.

Caitlyn’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, I knew you looked familiar! You’re from the group AURORA. You look even prettier in person,” she said with an easy smile.

“Oh, thank you,” you managed, forcing a polite smile in return. Your eyes darted to Vi, searching her face for any kind of explanation or acknowledgment of how awkward this felt.

Before you could say anything else, you tried to speak, “Hey, can we talk in priv—” but Vi cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Her hand casually slid to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze before she pulled back.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta go,” Vi said nonchalantly, as if the entire situation was completely normal. She grabbed her things and started heading toward the door. “We’ve got interviews and stuff downtown, so I’ll just be staying with Ellie and Abby in their penthouse for the week.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Vi barely gave you the chance. “I love you,” she said casually over her shoulder as she opened the door, holding it for Caitlyn to follow her out.

And then they were gone.

You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door in stunned silence. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt deafening in the otherwise quiet apartment. Confusion churned in your mind as you tried to piece together what had just happened.

Vi’s words echoed in your head. I love you. Yet she’d just left you standing here, no explanation, no conversation about the questions you’d been holding onto for weeks. All of it—her sudden departure, the presence of Caitlyn, and the way she’d brushed off your attempt to talk—left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t help but wonder: was this love, or was it just convenience?

Hours of stress cleaning had left Vi’s apartment spotless, every surface shining like new. Yet despite your efforts to distract yourself, your thoughts remained restless. Finally, you decided you couldn’t stay there any longer. You changed into one of Vi’s oversized hoodies, the familiar scent bringing a small measure of comfort, and grabbed your bag before heading out the door.

Instead of going straight home, you decided to stop by a nearby burger joint. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten all day. Once inside, you ordered a burger and fries to go, leaning against the counter as you waited. The minutes dragged on, but eventually, your order number was called. You thanked the cashier, grabbing the bag with a polite smile before heading back to your car.

As you approached your car, keys in hand, a tall man suddenly stepped into your path. His presence was unnerving, but his expression didn’t immediately raise any alarms.

“You’re (Y/N) from AURORA, right?” he asked, his tone overly enthusiastic. “I’m a really big fan. Can I have an autograph?”

You forced a polite smile, trying to keep things cordial. “I’m sorry, I’m kinda busy right now,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from eager to insistent. “Come on, just a quick one. It’ll only take a second,” he pressed.

Before you could respond, his eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his expression darkening. His nostrils flared as he caught the faint scent of cologne clinging to the fabric. Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly, making you drop the bag of food.

“What man were you with?!” he demanded, his voice seething with anger. “I thought I watched you carefully enough!”

Panic surged through you as you tried to pull away. “Sir, I don’t know who you are! Please let go of me!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

His grip tightened, and before you could react, his hand moved to your throat, squeezing with terrifying force. You clawed at his arm, gasping for air, your vision starting to blur.

“Sir, please…” you choked out, your voice barely audible.

His expression twisted with rage. “If I can’t have you, no one can,” he growled, his grip unrelenting.

Just as the edges of your vision began to go dark, you felt the pressure on your neck suddenly release. You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and clutching at your bruised throat. Blinking through tears, you saw the man being yanked backward and slammed to the ground.

The commotion drew a crowd, and amidst the chaos, you caught sight of your rescuer. Recognition flickered as you realized it was Ekko, Jinx’s boyfriend. His face was steely with anger as he held the man down, delivering a punch to keep him subdued.

Moments later, Jinx appeared, rounding the corner in search of Ekko. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the scene: Ekko restraining the man on the ground, and you, sitting on the pavement with a large bruise forming around your neck.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” Jinx yelled, rushing toward you. She pushed through the small crowd of onlookers, waving them off as she knelt beside you. “Are you okay? The cops are on their way,” she said, her voice full of worry as she helped you to your feet.

You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. The adrenaline draining from your body left you weak and unsteady, and the edges of your vision blurred again. You immediately fell back on to the ground, Jinx caught you as she held you carefully. The last thing you heard was Jinx calling your name before everything went black.

chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four , five

edit announcement: it’s a double upload today so expect chapter 6 in a few hours!

[allllium]

Hi, Love! ❤️ It’s me again and I came here for Remus and his crazy people 🤪

As I have a birthday (age-should-not-be-named) maybe you could write something about celebrating the reader’s birthday?)

Speaking about the reader, she feels sad about the upcoming age (just because of the number, if you know what I mean) and she is a little bit harsh about it. So her boyfriend (Remus) decided to make a little cozy party with all close friends 😌 so they have fun 🥳

It may be a 18 celebration or they can be older, it’s up to you and your incredable imagination ❤️ I love your writing, so you’re free to everything you want 😉 especially your brilliant jokes 👌🏻

Sorry for bothering you 🥹 I just feel a little bit lonely at my day… my own marauder’s company lost in the time…

Birthday

~ I'm so sorry this took so long to get to, the writers block is real bad rn 😭 and also I apologize in advance but it ended up a little different than the request, if you want me to rewrite it closer to the ask I would be happy to, but either way I really hope you like and happy late birthday, I hope you had a wonderful time <3

~ WC:1,888 [Hurt/Comfort, Fluff]

~ Reader celebrates a birthday

“Good morning Angel!” You recognize your boyfriend's voice even as you dig your face further in the pillow to tune it out. “Happy birthday!”

“Let me sleep.” Of course Remus doesn't listen to your plea, opting for dragging you out of bed himself. “No no no.”

“Yes yes yes. C'mon love we've got to celebrate!” When you turn to face him, he looks genuinely excited to celebrate with you.

“Okay let's go.” You give him the best smile you can muster, not wanting to disrupt his excitement.

“Okay great!” He immediately grabs your wrist to drag you out of his dorm.

“Rem, wait, I need to get dressed first.” You laugh.

“I think you look fine like that.”

“I’m wearing pajamas and my hair is a mess.”

“Exactly my type.” You shake your head at him and turn to pull some clothes you've left in his dorm.

“Celebrating can wait a minute.” Or forever you think silently. It's not that you hate your birthday, you would rather just not have it. Why celebrate another year passing by that you'll never get back? Why celebrate another year closing to dying?

“Fine but only one minute, I'm counting.”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” You ask him once you're dressed.

“Because I love you, I want to show you how happy I am that you were born.” His words make you grin, he always knows how to make you feel better especially when he doesn't know he needs to. But why celebrate getting closer to the end of the time you have with him?

“You're a sweet talker Mr. Lupin.” You pull him down for a soft kiss before allowing him to pull you off to whatever he has planned.

“Okay, first hour picnic breakfast.” He tells you happily. Wait what?

“I'm sorry, did you just say the first hour? Did you plan this hour by hour?”

“Of course I did, my angel deserves nothing but the best.” You stop walking for a split second. Why does he care about this so much? It's not a miracle, or an unusual thing. It's just a birthday. All it means is that you're getting older, losing more time.

Remus notices your stillness, “C'mon, love, we have a full day ahead of us.”

“Alright on to hour Three.” Remus announces as you both clean up your picnic blanket.

“Well what's next?” You ask, a little reluctantly. Spending alone time with Remus is always amazing but you're a little worried about adding more people into the mix. Your anxiety about it has been low for now but you know it's gonna get worse.

“Next is my present for you.”

“Rem this is enough, you've already planned a whole day for me.”

“No it's not, I got you the perfect gift.”

“You are the perfect gift.”

“As flattering as that is, wrong.” He pulls up off the ground, and gives you a quick kiss. “Move it.”

“Woah being mean to me on my birthday.” You joke.

“You'll be fine, angel.” His smile makes the butterflies in your stomach erupt. Maybe a birthday isn't so bad if you have him with you.

“Hmm I want my present.”

“Then hurry up and we can go get it.”

“It's not my fault. You're so tall you walk a million miles an hour.”

“And it's not my fault you're so small you walk at a snail's pace.” You throw a hand over your heart dramatically

“How dare you, this is bullying.”

“No it's not, it's a fact. We're almost there anyway.”

“Where is there?”

“It's in my dorm.”

“No it's not, I looked.”

“And I hid it because I knew you'd do that.”

You sigh dramatically, “I would never.” You defend.

“You just admitted it!” He accuses.

“I did not! Let's go! Faster!”

“Oh so now I don't walk fast enough, make up your mind.”

“I will not. I shall continue to be indecisive.” He lets out a throaty chuckle at your statement.

“Oh you shall?” He questions, still laughing.

“Don't make fun of me, I'm being fancy.”

“You are a lot of things but fancy isn't one of them.”

“Hey, what does that mean!” You smack him lightly on his chest.

After a walk way longer than it should be, you finally reach his dorm and sit on the bed expectantly.

“Where's my present?” You immediately demand.

“Woah not even a please.” He jokes and stands in front of you.

“Well someone got my hopes up, this better be good Lupin.” He grins at you and orders you to close your eyes.

“This is too good of a hiding spot to give up.” He tells you.

After quite a few moments of shuffling happening behind you and quite a few “oh fucks” as your clumsy boyfriend unsurprisingly bumps into a couple things, a small box is placed gentle in your awaiting hands.

Your eyes fly open the second you feel the strange-feeling material in the palm of your hand. The first you notice is that the box is heart shaped with an engraving on the top, saying “My angel”

“Remus, this is amazing.” Without even opening it you already know this is the best gift you've ever received.

“You haven't even opened it yet, dove.” He sits on the bed beside you, putting his arm around your waist.

“Doesn't matter, I love it.”

“Open it, angel.”

Following his advice you open the heart-shaped box and immediately fall in love with him even more. In the box sits a simple charm bracelet, already adorned with three charms. All right next to each other is an angel charm, a heart charm, and a moon charm, all in that order.

“Do you like it?”

“Rem, I love it. This is the best thing ever.”

“I highly doubt that but I'm glad you love it.”

“Why did you do a moon and not a wolf for you?” You ask him, trying to distract yourself from the rush of emotions running through you.

“Well I was gonna but it looked very dog-like and Sirius said he was honored to be included.” He lets out a deep sigh of disapproval.

You can't help the laugh that bursts out, “Oh of course he did. Thank you Remus, really.”

“Well I would love anything you give me but this is incredible.”

“I couldn't give you anything but the best for this special day.” Special indeed.

“Welcome to hour five.” Remus declares while you enter the kitchens. After spending hour 3 and 4 in Remus’s dorm gushing over your new bracelet, and demanding his help in putting it on, he rushed you on to the event of hours 5 to 7. You are very curious as to why he pulled three hours out for this event.

He pulls you into the kitchens and you see the counters covered in enough ingredients to make a hundred cakes.

“What's this?”

“Well I wanted to make you a cake but realized I don't know how to make a cake without magic.” He looks down a little ashamed to be asking you to help make your own birthday cake.

“I believe this was a very smart choice, I wouldn't want you to burn down Hogwarts.” You grin at him.

“I'm sorry, I know I should've asked someone else first.”

“I'm glad you didn't, I like baking.” Despite the growing feeling in your stomach, his smile makes you smile.

After 3 hours of baking, 2 failed cakes, and 1 kitchen covered in cake ingredients that didn't seem to make it into the bowl, you and Remus have successfully acquired a birthday cake. It's not the prettiest and probably not the best tasting, but it's something you have created together and that's more than enough for you.

Hour 8, aka the final hour Remus has planned, is making you freak out. Despite preparing all day for this, the pit in your stomach has continued brewing and now feels too much to handle. As long as it's just you and Remus, alone, it doesn't feel like much of a birthday. Even with the cake and present, and Remus telling you happy birthday every two seconds, as if you'll forget, it feels natural. Not celebratory. Now, however, more people are getting involved.

You shouldn't be feeling this way. All of your closest friends getting together in the common room to celebrate your birthday should be exciting, not scary. Well it's not exactly scary, more of a feeling you can't seem to place.

You and Remus part ways for the first time of the day so you can get ready in your dorm. Once you're ready, you begin to head for the common room, hand freezing on the doorknob. Without thinking, you back up, taking a sitting place on the bed. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes for reasons you still can't understand.

As you sit there trying to cover your strange emotions, Remus comes into your dorm. Without saying a word he sits on the bed and gives you a hug.

“I'm sorry.” You tell him, knowing the effort he put into this perfect day.

“Whatever for love? This is your day, feel however you must.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead and slowly pulls away from the hug.

“I don't understand why I feel like this, it's just an age.” You try to explain. Luckily your amazing boyfriend knows you way too well.

“Because it's scary,” he begins to explain, far better than you did, “and it's new. I mean no one wants to get older but you gotta think of the upside.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well we get a little older, we leave school, we get married and get a ton of plants we'll never be able to keep alive.” He seems to have put a lot of thought into your future together. “Even though it feels like we're saying goodbye to a part of your life, we're also beginning a new part. One that we can form yo be whatever we want.”

“How do you always know just what to say?”

“I speak from my heart, most of it is nonsense.”

“Maybe but it always works. I love you.”

He smiles at you for the thousandth time today but it still gives you that funny feeling in your chest. “I love you too, angel. Ready to go celebrate?”

“Yeah I think so, thank you.”

“Anytime, love.”

And so you celebrate. A small party with all your friends and everyone you love. But for some reason you no longer have that pit in your stomach. You no longer feel the tears building as you blow out the candles on your perfectly imperfect cake. You no longer feel as if growing older is a curse you can't get out of.

You head back into Remus's dorm for bed. You can't help but keep your eyes stuck on the bracelet dangling off your wrist as you do your nightly routine. As you cuddle in bed next to Remus, you no longer want the day to be done with. Instead, wanting it to last forever as you talk and laugh with him. You no longer worry about the past and instead focus on the future. Now understanding there's still so much more you have to look forward to.

~ This is actually so relatable to me due to my anxiety, I was actually late to my last birthday party for this exact reason 😭 I hope everyone reading this knows that birthdays are a reason to celebrate, you have so much to look forward to as you age and I'm very glad you were born <3

[good-beanswrites]

I was thinking of Hallucination and LCSYS again. Would you like to write something about what Mahiru was doing instead of performing at Hallucination?

Ah, yes!! In my mind she was there and everything was perfect 😭 But it was super fun to think of what/who could be convincing to her... I know Miho Okasaki had another performance at the time, so I tried to keep things generally in line with that. Even if I wasn't writing for you specifically, I know there's only one character who could talk Mahiru into it... (I kept getting hung up on pov/little details/transitions but I think I just need to post this as is lol 😂)

“Mikoto-kun!” Mahiru cupped the phone close to her at the sound of his voice. “Mahiru has big news! You’re the first to know!”

“Ah, is it okay if he’s the second to know?”

“Oh! Hey, John-kun!” 

As much as Mikoto was protective over Red’s name, he himself always encouraged the prisoners to call him John. It was something like an affectionate nickname at this point; an inside joke between him and the people who had experienced so much with him. Well, and also the hundreds of thousands of adoring fans that called him that…

“I can tell you! Oooh, Mahiru just got the call a minute ago!”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember that group holding the mental health talks from a few months ago? They were asking permission to use my videos at one of their events?”

“I remember.”

She felt her cheeks blush at the way he said it – of course he remembers, she hadn’t stopped talking about it for a month straight.

“Well, they’re holding a biiiiig presentation this time. Lots of smart professionals and famous influencers will be there!” She listed off some of the guest list. John wouldn’t know a lot of the beauty and health influencers, but maybe he’d recognize them from her many prior conversations. She’d said time and time again what an inspiration some of these people were during her life before, and turning it around now. “I mean, she’s Mahiru’s hero!!”

“That’s great! So, are they going to play your videos there, too? That’s –”

“– They want Mahiru to come and talk!” She squealed, unable to contain it anymore. Her feet danced a few steps around her kitchen. “They asked if I could be one of the speakers!”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’d get to talk about my life, and then answer some questions after. I’d get to talk to all the guests, and the other speakers! Can you believe it, John-kun? Me, meeting them in person!”

“I’m so proud of you!” She could hear the smile in his voice.

She took a deep inhale. “Mahiru is going to turn it down, of course.”

There was a pause as he processed the statement in her cheery tone. 

“...Eh!?”

“It’s right when Jackalope’s big show is scheduled. They couldn’t have planned it any worse!” She laughed. It was, after all, amusing at how poorly the timing had worked out. “It took all of us to persuade Fuuta-kun to agree to come, there’s no way I can back out now.”

“That’s different – he had nothing better to do, and you have this awesome opportunity!”

“No, no,” she shook her head, even if he couldn’t see the gesture. She kept her smile up. She had to.

“What about rescheduling? Or maybe you can travel between both?”

“It’s impossible, they’ve already started selling tickets for both. But there’s no need to worry, I’m going to have so much fun with you all!”

“It was such an honor to be asked, and you deserve that moment in the spotlight – yourself.”

“Oh, Mahiru could never do something so selfish! My mind is made up!”

There was another pause. If there was one thing everyone had learned about Mahiru, it was that it took quite a lot to un-make her mind, once set on something. 

“Alright. Can you do me one favor, though?”

“Of course! Anything for you, John-kun!”

“Don’t call the others yet. Take a few days to think about it. Really think about it. Actually… do tell Amane about it.”

“Amane-chan…?”

“But wait to tell everyone else.”

She pouted her lips. “But Mahiru was so excited to tell everybody…”

John gave a small laugh on the other end. “I know. Just try to wait a little bit.”

“I will, for your sake…”

“Trust me, it’s for yours.”

—

She told Amane that night, peering into her room. The girl was separating some clothes, laying out her marching band uniform for the big game coming up. Amane responded similarly to John, her excitement turning to complete shock, even when Mahiru added her rational explanation. She started going through possible solutions, all of which Mahiru had already ruled out.

Finally, she asked, “why don’t you go to that event instead? You’ve gotten so much attention through Milgram, but this is something brand new. It’s something that you feel very passionately about.”

“You’re as silly as John-kun! If it was something helpful I’d think about it, but it’s just selfish. Just an excuse for Mahiru to be the center of attention, and meet people I want to meet. It would be so shameful to choose that over performing with you all.”

“But…” Amane’s expression was conflicted. 

“No buts!” Mahiru made a fluttery gesture to the uniform laid out on the bed. “You wouldn’t want to let down your band, would you? It’s like that! Now, dinner will be ready in just a minute, so hurry on down. I made your favorite tonight, and a special dessert in honor of your game~”

—

“Mahiru-san?”

Mahiru looked up from her phone. She hurriedly closed the social media app she’d been scrolling through, checking on who would be attending the presentation. She’d read her favorite blog’s post about it about a dozen times, so it didn’t matter that she closed out of the tab. “Oh, Amane-chan, you’re still up?”

Amane got right to it. She said the words as if she’d been choosing them carefully beforehand. Having helped her prepare for school speeches, Mahiru knew that was exactly what she’d done. 

“I think you should go to the presentation. Sometimes it’s okay if you disappoint a big group, if you’re doing something kind for yourself. You yourself told me that wasn’t selfish. You told me that if the group really loves you, they’ll be happy for you. We know you’re not selfish, and that you do deserve to be the center of attention. When is the last time you did something completely for yourself – not also helping another?”

Mahiru gaped at her. She scrambled for an answer, knowing the girl would have a rebuttal for each thing that crossed her mind. Seeing her point was a success, Amane continued. 

“I will miss you, of course. And Fuuta-san will definitely say something hot-headed. But I think… I know everyone will be very happy for you. No one will be upset, because they’ll see how much this means to you. Because we love you, Mahiru-san.”

Following some bursting into tears and lots of hugging, Mahiru stepped into the kitchen to make a phone call. “Jackalope-san! Mahiru has some good news and some bad news…”

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. ��That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[bingoboingobongo]

omg the way you write adrian chase is AMAZING complex simplicity is such a beautifully written fic 😭 (you can ignore this if you want and get on with your day) but i was wondering if it's alright with you to write a fic with adrian chase and reader who's super badass (maybe a black widow¿)

alea iacta est

Pairing: Adrian Chase (Peacemaker) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: There's a new player in town, and Adrian wants to know more.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), mentions of violence, home invasion, knives

A/N: hiii, oh my actual lord i'm so sorry this took like over three months to write that is actually the most despicable thing of me to do i'm so sorry. idk if this is want you wanted but hopefully it's close. as always, likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated :)

Masterlist

Given a choice, Evergreen wouldn’t be Adrian’s top pick for a city to defend. In terms of crime there wasn’t anything bigger than heroin shipments or the odd human trafficking ring, and even those were hard to come by. He had grown up there, of course, but his protection of it was less out of patriotism or loyalty or some desire to protect the people he had grown up with, and more because of the fact that moving was expensive and Chris wanted to stay. Besides, he and Chris were the only vigilantes around, which meant he didn’t have to worry about any turf battles or popularity contests. Of course, there was one occasion where another vigilante had popped up in Evergreen, although he was swiftly killed by a masked man wearing a turquoise and silver suit. Adrian had once considered moving to a bigger, more crime-ridden city like Gotham, but he didn’t really feel like ticking off Batman or having to deal with Harley Quinn.

He liked it in Evergreen, after all. He knew the city like the back of his hand, and with Chris in jail, he was the only guy strong enough to protect it. It was probably selfish, he knew, but it was a big boost to his ego to know that the only thing stopping the city from falling into squalor was him.

Which is why when word of another vigilante in town began to spread, Adrian began to get antsy. He had yet to run into them, which worried him considering he was beginning to spend most of his patrols trying to hunt whoever it was down, and while all the low-lives in town were warning each other of a new player on the streets, Adrian had nothing to substantiate their claims.

At least he did, that is until he was working the closing shift at Fennel Fields one night, and was just heading out to throw away the trash when he heard a scuffle past the dumpsters. Of course, he went to investigate, and to his surprise he saw the vague silhouette of a woman crouching over a body. The shadow turned its head to look at him, and Adrian could vaguely see the whites of a pair of eyes peeking over a mask stare at him for a split second before they swiveled around and bolted off.

Adrian tried to follow them, tossing the trash to the side and racing in the direction the masked culprit had run in, but somehow or another he had lost her in the dark of the night.

Adrian returned to the dumpsters, bending down to look at the body that had been left behind. He recognized it immediately. It was Joe Grioli, a frequent pain in Adrian’s neck due to his repeated harassment and sexual assault of women. Adrian had tried to kill him multiple times, but the slimeball somehow always got away, whether it was by volunteering himself into custody for a minor parole violation or simply weaseling his way out of the traps Adrian tried to set.

Adrian reached for Joe’s wrist, trying to feel for a pulse. There wasn’t one, and when Adrian felt around his neck to double check, his head lolled to the side, bent at an unnatural angle. His neck had been snapped, Adrian realized with a ripple of emotion. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement, but he knew that either way, this newcomer was going to be a bigger deal than he thought.

Adrian went home that night full of questions. The first, of course, being who was this new vigilante? And why were they snapping necks in the middle of the night? Adrian knew that his strict, no exceptions, style was certainly uncommon in the vigilante community — most people preferred to leave criminals with a few nasty bruises or ditch them in front of a police station — so seeing someone else be willing to cross that sacred line that made grown men cry filled Adrian with curiosity.

The second thing Adrian wanted to know was their end goal. Were they trying to get rid of all criminals like he was? Or were they just in town following some lead? Were they even on the same side as Adrian? His mind reeled with questions that he didn’t know the answer to, or where to even begin answering them. The best thing to do, he figured, was to try and find this new vigilante and get some explanations. The only problem was that he didn’t know where to look. 

That night, Adrian doubled down on his patrolling. The frustrating part was that he couldn’t get any tips as to where to find this mysterious neck-snapper, and for some reason there was an annoying lack of criminals he could interrogate that night.

He was just about to begin questioning a meth head he had spotted on the corner of a street about whether or not he had seen anything suspicious, when he heard a quiet whisper of air pass by him, flashing a streak of metallic glimmer that embedded itself in the wall just a few centimeters to the right of his ear.

“You missed,” he declared, trying to keep the giddiness out of his voice.

“I didn’t miss,” a voice spoke back. It was a woman’s voice, sultry and smooth, laced with an edge of danger. “That was a warning.”

“A warning for what?” Adrian asked, turning in the direction of the voice. He didn’t see anything, just inky darkness. 

“For you to stop looking for me,” she spoke again, her voice coming from a different direction. Adrian whipped around, trying to follow her.

“How did you know I was looking for you?” She didn’t answer. “You know,” Adrian continued, “it’s pretty rude of you to try and kill me and then not even do me the courtesy of answering questions. I mean, I don’t blame you if you’re scared, I’ve killed a lot of people, but they were all criminals, you know? I mean, I assume you do, considering the way you killed Joe earlier.” He began to shuffle around the area, kicking at empty soda cans, “By the way, neck-snapping? Pretty brutal, you gotta admit. But I respect that. You know, why don’t you come out here and we can have an actual conversation? I promise I won’t kill you immediately.”

He looked around again, wondering if she would have stalked out of the shadows by now. He approached the knife that had almost cost him an ear. The blade was a dusty gunmetal gray, with a streak of black surging down the middle on one side. He flipped it over and let out a whistle. “Alea iacta est,” he read, “that Latin? I gotta say, I have no idea what it means. I know I seem like the smartest guy in the world but I actually barely passed Latin in high school. I mean, I don’t even know why I took the class. I liked a lot of fantasy stuff as a kid so I just assumed Latin would be similar to that Game of Thrones language or something, what is it called? Klingon? I don’t even know. Do you want this back by the way?”

“Keep it,” she said, causing Adrian to whip around again, “I’ll get it back soon enough.”

That had been nearly a month ago. In fact, the three week mark of days since Adrian had last seen her was coming up. He knew it was bad that he was keeping track of the time so meticulously, but how could he not? He hadn’t even seen her face and he was hooked. He kept wondering when she would show up, and how. He had kept the knife, of course. Right now it was kept locked in a fake-bottomed bedside table he had made when he first moved into the apartment. He had looked up the words as soon as he had gotten home, and he had been right. It was Latin.

A sharp jab in his side brought Adrian back to the present. “Dude,” one of his coworkers said, “I asked you to refill my table’s water like five minutes ago. What are you doing?” 

Adrian blinked, staring blankly at the heavy water pitcher in his hand. “Uh, oh yeah, my bad,” he stuttered, “which table is it?”

His coworker rolled his eyes, jabbing his thumb at the table behind him. Undisturbed, Adrian followed the direction of the gesture over to the booth. There was only one customer there, a woman, who was typing away on her computer; a half-eaten bowl of pasta pomodoro pushed to the side.

“Can I fill that up for you?” he asked, pointing to her empty cup. She turned her head towards him, yet kept her eyes trained on the computer in front of her. She appeared to be writing something, maybe an essay or a report, and when she finished up her sentence she finally looked at him completely.

“What was that?” she asked, and Adrian felt a swell of familiarity rise through him.

“Your water,” he explained, pointing again at her cup, “want me to refill it?”

She paused, staring at him intensely as if she were scrutinizing him. “Sure,” she said finally, turning back to her computer.

She ended up staying at the restaurant up until closing, still nursing her pasta pomodoro and clacking away at her keyboard. He didn’t see her leave, just noticed the empty seat where she had sat, her dishes stacked neatly on top of each other and a decent tip folded up neatly and tucked under the napkin dispenser. 

He had spent the rest of his shift sparing not-so-subtle glances at her, trying to see more of her, and figure out what had drawn him to her. He hadn’t been successful though. After their initial interaction, she had adjusted her ponytail, letting the hair fall into her face and block her eyes. 

He ended up going home that night filled with confusion. The longer he thought about her, the more familiar she seemed. But familiar from where? He tried answering the questions that kept swirling around his head as he went through his post-work routine: eat dinner, shower, brush his teeth. He couldn’t place it at all. Of course his mind first went to the stranger he had met almost twenty-one days ago, but he wasn’t sure they sounded the same. Granted, his mind had been filled with fog since then; he heard a muddled cacophony of voices each day, but he assumed that when he heard her again it would’ve been like a veil being lifted.

But he didn’t feel that with the girl from his work. She could’ve always been disguising her voice, he figured; after all it was a tactic he had utilized multiple times, and he knew it wasn’t uncommon. But there was something more than that, he felt, something beyond a slight similarity in voices. There was something real there, but he just couldn’t place it.

He fell asleep that night trying to figure out what had been so off-putting about her, but his rest was cut short when he heard a slight rustle outside his window. Adrian had never been a heavy sleeper. It was a trait that had made his mom’s life hell but his vigilante one easier.

He sat up, staring into the darkness. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. Nothing except the rapid beating of his heart and his own shallow breaths. He reached under his pillow, groping around for the knife he kept there. Wrapping his hand around the handle, he leaned over to his bedside table. It was open.

He felt his blood go cold. Dread pooling at the base of his stomach. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was thought of her being in his home. Maybe it was the thought of him missing her. 

“Nice hiding spot,” he heard from the corner of his bedroom. He threw the knife. He couldn’t tell where it landed. “You know I don’t appreciate you trying to kill me, Adrian,” she said, drawing the syllables of his name out, “especially not after I complimented you so nicely.”

“How did you get in here?” Adrian asked, his voice coming out shakier than normal. He wasn’t used to being attacked in his own home. He wasn’t used to being left weaponless. He wasn’t used to this kind of power imbalance. He wasn’t used to people knowing who he was.

“You know, you should really be more careful driving home from work,” she said, her voice moving around the room. “You never know when someone might,” she paused, “follow you.”

Adrian cursed, “That was you?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice. Or that you didn’t recognize me at dinner.”

“How was I supposed to? It’s not like I saw your face.”

“Didn’t I tell you I would be visiting you soon?”

“You told me you would be getting your knife back soon,” he said, his jaw tight.

“And I did, didn't I?”

“What do you want from me?” Adrian asked, searching the dim room for her.

“Oh Adrian,” she said with a chuckle. It felt traitorous. Sweet, yet bitter. Soft, yet hard. Good, yet evil. “I already got what I want from you. Alea iacta est.”

Adrian swallowed, “The die has been cast.”

“I see you’ve done your research,” she said, and Adrian could hear the grin in her voice. “I’ll be seeing you soon enough.”

[chanstopher]

first this may seem so weird but when I saw how long your reply was I got very emotional bc you’re just so super sweet and ily and idk how that all came out of your reply but ye anyways I’m sappy sorry 🥺😭😭😭 SO ANYWAY! my weekend was fine! I spent it relaxing and in correlation to you asking about my txt spiral I’m seriously and truly a moa haha 😂😂 the rest of June I was just watching mainly their content like their show and their videos and stuff! and I actually ended up buying their digital concert on Jul 2nd! it was so fun and honestly it just made me more excited to go and see them 🙈✨ also I haven’t watched any stranger things but I knew the new season came out and the second volume just came out other than the loud fights have you enjoyed it?? also hhhh honestly firework shows aren’t for me so I get it, it gets semi bad where I am and it was so bad one time (I think it was 2020 the noise was almost nonstop 😭) ooooh we love when things still end up alright even when it’s not what we planned we take those wins!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 tysm for asking about my writing 🥺 it’s been going okay I think, I’m writing things for a few collabs with other ppl and it’s been a lot of fun talking with others and brainstorming my ideas 🥰 and hhhh aww ty ty my mom is doing fine, she’s resting currently but I’ll be sure to tell her you said hi! I know she’ll like that! we actually went out to the kpop store today and I picked up some txt goodies!!! it was a lot of fun, and our store plays mvs and stuff inside and they just happened to be playing good boy gone bad HAHA (this ask is so long hhh sorry I just wanna tell you everything 💜💜💜)

sorry i was trying to get my stupid gifset to show up on the feed and it took forever because tumblr is stupidddd afxga honestly i love that the spiral is just full on stanning now thats beautiful its what they deserve! i lvoe them so much theyre just some dumb boys and its just so <3333333

very impressive to avoid stranger things tbh but i know its just not some ppls thing, they killed off someone i really really loved so im distraughtttt over that but the cooking/yelling show is really good! i love the guy from shameless who's in it and he plays likea super talented cook so im very invested in it zfsasd

i also think fireworks are overrated and they just freak out animals and make squirrels abandon their lil homes and just not worth it imo but they usually have fried dough and im a sucker for that so its a hard choice lmaoo

im glad ur writing! i did see u posting some enhypen stuff i think, tbh i generally glance over fics cause i dont read them but when i see ur url i make like a mental note that ur posting? if that makes sense?

my kpop store is just a record store so they generally have whatever is in the top40 playing os i only ever recognize things from tiktok asxc but omg txt always has such beautiful photobooks! i have a few and god i love them theyre soo nice! plus their last few albums are SO my aesthetic so i just love collecting for them

i hope ur week goes well my angel!

[darke15]

Ahhhh, @rhymingtree time for a proper reaction after my preliminary read through this morning, because lemme tell you...I remember being on the edge of my seat but I have no recollection of what actually happened because I have the memory of a fuckin' goldfish.

So, let's get started

Ach! Monica! Yahhhhhhsss

Ahhhhhhh! You kept the Turner and Monica knowing each other! Yay!

AND HE KNOWS ABOUT AUNT CAROLLLLLL

Awwwww Nia's graduation 😭 sad beans

"Yes her...the Avenger" why did that line hurt me so bad?

Agent wooooooooooooooooooo yayyyyy!

This scene was so freakin' weird to me (like a good weird) like the cops are like nope no Westview here...with the westview sign right behind them

Can we talk about Jimmy Woo for a second? I love him.

"Why haven't you gone inside?"

"Because it doesn't want me to."

That is such an intense line and the way you describe it, 'an ominous silence hung around the town...like it was spread to hide a darker secret...' man i got the chills

of course, boone was asked by SWORD to come, she's a goddamn genius

Darcy!

I love how Boone has made a name for herself, and Aftermath, it's like everybody from the FBI, CIA, and SWORD got together and told scary stories about her around a campfire.

Darcy looked up at her, still in awe. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Boone, walking beside her, took a deep breath to calm herself. “Do what?”

“Be a badass.” Boone chuckled at that. Yeah, she definitely likes her.

“I don’t think you need it, Doc. You’re a woman in STEM.”

THIS LINE!!! THIS LINE IS FUCKIN' AMAZING! THIS MORNING A JUST ABOUT CHUCKED MY PHONE ACROSS THE ROOM IN EXCITEMENT!!!! JUST YESSS RHYMIE YESSSSSSS!

Boone smiled, excited. “There’s gonna be a t-shirt after this?”

This gives me Boone waving at Rook vibes idk why

The team up between Darcy and Boone is giving me life

Okay, can i just say you nailed Boone. She's witty, she's sarcastic, she's funny just like she's supposed to be. Good work, Rhymie.

Aalfkajewlfkajefl; the reveal! ooooff yessss

AND the Duke and Bucky friendship yessssss

God Hayward pisses me off just as much in written form as in the series (that's a compliment, good job)

I love Jimmy's attitude so much

Jimmy's such a nerd, recognizing Ghost as an avengers

Awwwww poor bucky :(

Darcy dropping noodles on Boone's shoe made me giggle

Duke calling Bucky a nerd...also made me giggle

"She can't remember me?"

DO YOU HEAR THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING????? DAMN YOU RHYMIE

Darcy commenting on Danny and Ghost's relationship in front of Bucky...RHYME! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???

Danny breaking the fourth wall and then frying their frequency...my god dude you scare the hell outta me

Her eyes challenged the light of the sun.

Rhyme that's beautiful, my gosh, I'm tearing up a big

Wanda scared me so much in that scene I was like girrllllll the hell is happening right now?

Ahhhhhhh Rhymie yessss! I love the switching POVs through this chapter and an almost 'behind the scenes' of what's been going on outside the hex while Ghost is inside.

I cannot wait to see where you take this next!

Ghosts in Westview

Chapter 8 || Voices Through a Radio

word count: 11.3k

summary: While investigating a mysterious disappearance in New Jersey, they discover some ghosts haunting Westview.

warnings: Tyler Hayward, Bucky's heart being broken about four times in one day, scary Wanda,

The Blip only happened three weeks ago. Half of the entire universe suddenly reappeared after five years, and the whole world went crazy, trying to go back to normal, trying to reintegrate.

Monica Rambeau didn’t just go through the whirlwind of disappearing and reappearing five years after. When she disappeared, she was dozing off in a hospital room with her mother recovering from surgery. Her mother was alive, they had hope.

When she woke up, five years had gone by, and her mother was dead.

Still, she picked herself up, and three weeks later, she’s back to work. She would have been absolutely ready for anything SWORD could throw at her. But here she was, driving to Westview, New Jersey, on a missing persons case, of all things. It was boring, and it was nothing like what she was used to, but it was necessary.

Driving down the highway, her phone rang. It was an unknown number. Looking for something a bit more interesting in her day, she answered it, not taking her eyes off the road. “Captain Rambeau speaking.”

“Monica…” A deep, familiar voice greeted her back. She smiled in recognition. “It’s good to hear you, Cap.”

Turner was a childhood friend and neighbor. One of the few people who knew about her Aunt Carol, and was one of her biggest supporters in her life besides her Mom. After they graduated high school and pursued their own careers, they lost touch. But with elevated positions in life, they still took pride in being each other’s childhood friends.

Back then, they were the troublemakers of the neighborhood. Now, they’re Captain Monica Rambeau and Senator Johnson. Each with their own separate loads of baggage and achievements.

“Senator Johnson, it’s been a while! How have you been? How’s the family?”

“Well, hectic, all things considered,” She heard him sigh on the other end. “I was dead for five years, so… missed Nia’s graduations. Meanwhile, my youngest and I… five years young.”

Monica’s brows furrowed at the way his voice went low. “God, I’m sorry, Turner.”

He chuckled, “No, I’m sorry. I rambled.”

“Well, I asked.” They both laughed for a moment, catching up with each other.

“Listen, I know you’re tired of hearing this, but…” Monica was about to stop him, but he said it anyway. “I’m sorry about your mom. I can only imagine what you’re dealing with, Monica. She was an extraordinary person, and a good friend.”

“Thanks, Turner. It means a lot.” It genuinely did, knowing someone who was personally close to her mother, and truly was affected by her being in their life. “But… that’s not the reason you called, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” His voice took a more serious tone. “I might need your help with something.”

Monica furrowed her brow, slowing down on the road slightly to put her attention on Turner. “Who’s asking for help, Senator Johnson or Turner?”

“It’s a problem for both. But I’m asking you as a friend.”

Oh, something’s really wrong then…

“What is it?”

She heard him shuffling, hesitating. “A friend of mine has gone missing, and we think SWORD might have something to do with it.”

“Woah, wait... Who’s the friend?”

“Captain (F/N) (L/N). She’s been missing a week now. And our only lead is that on the day she disappeared, she went to SWORD headquarters down in Florida. Right now, Monica, I feel like you're the only one there that I can trust.”

She knows that name. “...(F/N), your friend from the war? The Avenger?”

“Yes. Her…” He paused for a moment, and then said, “The Avenger.”

“Your Avenger friend went missing after going to SWORD Headquarters?” That seemed suspicious. That would have been pretty big news, and Hayward would have said something about it at some point, but he never mentioned any surprise visits from any Avengers.

“Actually, two Avengers. Her, and Wanda Maximoff. You didn’t hear about that when you got back on duty?”

“I’ve only been back a day, but someone should have told me.”

“That could mean they’re hiding the fact that they were there.”

Monica glanced up at the sign on the road. She had entered New Jersey now, headed towards Westview, where the FBI was waiting for her. “Listen, Turner. I’ve got something going on right now, but trust me, I’ll help you any way I can.”

“Thank you, Monica. If you don’t mind my asking, which mission are they sending you on?”

She couldn’t help but groan. “I’m grounded. Stuck with terrestrial missions for a while.”

“And here I thought they’d send you off to space the minute you came back.”

“Yeah, well… this could be a nice change of pace for now.” She smiled, “I’ll talk to you later, T.”

“Thanks again, Monica. You take care now.” He hung up, and she sighed.

Monica didn’t have time to think about the questionable secrecy within SWORD, as she drove closer to Westview.

---

She pulled the car to a slow stop in front of the big sign, welcoming you to Westview. Right by it, was a Police Car, two cops leaning on it. They looked bored, unbothered. Talking to them was who she assumed to be the FBI Agent she was helping with the case..

As she exited the car, the FBI Agent approached her. “James E. Woo, FBI.” He introduced with a flick of his fingers, his card appearing in a split second in his hand.

She raised her eyebrows in slight amusement. “Monica Rambeau, SWORD.” She went straight to business. “What’s the story here, Agent Woo?”

“I’ve got a witness set up down the road in Westview, and this morning, it looked like he flew the coop.”

“Your missing person is in the Witness Protection Program?”

“I have contacted known associates, relatives…”

“And let me guess,” Monica interrupted with a bored tone, “none of them have seen him either?”

“No. None of them have ever heard of him.” Monica gave him a perplexed look as he continued, “Something seemed hanky to me, so I took the first flight out of Oakland to interface with local law enforcement, which is when I encountered a new wrinkle.”

“...What is that?”

He motioned to the cops sipping coffee nonchalantly behind them. She followed Agent Woo over to them, noting their bored expressions. One huffed as they approached, “Here we go…”

“Pardon me, Sheriff. Would you mind repeating your claim about Westview to my colleague here?”

“No such place.” The Sheriff said it like they were stupid, even though the sign and town itself was right behind him.

Monica looked at the large sign, and back at the officer. “You’re the town of Westview, New Jersey doesn’t exist?”

“It’s what I keep telling your G-Man here, but he won’t listen.” He answered, sipping his coffee.

“I see.” She glanced at Agent Woo with confusion. He shot her a frustrated, and just as clueless look. “And, um, I’m sorry, what town are you from?”

“Eastview.”

Monica nodded. Today just keeps getting better and better.

Agent Woo looked back at the officers, “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll reach out if we need any further assistance.”

As the officers went back into their car, Monica and Agent Woo walked away, discussing more of the details of the perplexing case. “I, uh, pulled phone numbers for all the residents. I’m only through the D’s, but so far I got Diddly Squat.”

Monica frowned, “So you can’t reach anyone inside, and everyone outside has some sort of selective amnesia?”

He shook his head, “This isn’t a missing person’s case, Captain Rambeau. It’s a missing town.” He looked at the sign again, a clear signifier of the existence of Westview, yet also a sign of its eerie quietness. “Population 3,892.”

“Why haven’t you gone inside to investigate?”

“Because it doesn’t want me to.” He said, raising a brow. Even he can’t believe it. “You can feel it too, can’t you?” They looked to the road lined with houses. An ominous silence hung around the town, thick and heavy, like it was spread to hide a darker secret, to keep everything quietly hidden. “Nobody’s supposed to go in.”

Monica turned sharply back to the Agent next to her, “How about we get the drone in?” He nodded, and she moved back to her car, opening the back to grab the case.

“You know, this isn’t the only peculiar Missing Person’s case we have right now.” James said, filling the silence. “It’s pretty hush hush, but apparently we’ve got agents investigating a missing Avenger.” Monica stopped in the middle of opening the case, looking back at him with interest. Seeing the look on her face, he continued. “Captain (F/N) (L/N)... no one even knows who gave the tip on the case. And if any progress has been made, they’re practically baby steps.”

So, he told the FBI too. “You don’t know anything about that at all?”

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t think anyone does. The few people I know to be on it keep hitting dead ends.” As Monica took out the drone, he continued his thoughts, “If an Avenger’s gone missing now, right after the Blip, well, that could mean bigger threats are coming back already...” He looked away, back to the quiet town in front of them,

With a sigh, Monica readied the drone on the ground. “What about you?”

“Me?” James chuckled, “Well, I’m from Bakersfield originally.” He kept going as Monica backed away, looking down at the controller. “Growing up, other kids had Michael Jordan posters on their walls, but I had Elliot Ness.” Monica didn’t notice the small smile on his face, happy to have piqued someone’s interest.

“No, no, no…” oh, nevermind. “I mean, why is it that you have an awareness of Westview?” She let the drone hover above the ground, and slowly lift off towards the town. “Or me, for that matter.” The drone moved forward towards the rows of houses as Monica glanced at Agent Woo, “Is it because we’re outside of a certain radius, or… maybe because we don’t have a personal connection.”

Woo hummed at her thoughts. The controller started buzzing, making Monica look down. The screen turned into static, suddenly going haywire. She looked up, squinting at the sky. The drone was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d it go?”

“It was right there.” Woo pointed at the spot where the drone was last hovering. Confused, Monica walked closer to the town, looking around for the missing drone, but it was gone. She kept her eyes forward, searching for anything amiss. Until she finally saw it.

It was like a large, bright television screen. A subtle wall hiding the town away from sight, reflecting back the ghost town Westview seemed to be from the outside. “Whoa!” It was like nothing she’d ever seen before, it rendered her silent with awe.

“What is it?”

“Some sort of energy field.”

Woo kept his distance, wary of approaching the town, unlike Monica, who had thrown caution to the wind. She lifted a hand to touch the wall of static. She ignored Woo’s warnings from behind her. Her fingers went through the static, feeling it start to pull her in. With a gasp she pulled them away, feeling the buzz. She followed the pull, curious. Suddenly, the pull on her hand became stronger, until she was drawn in completely, disappearing right in front of Agent Woo’s eyes.

“Captain Rambeau!” Slowly he walked towards where she vanished. He tried calling out to her again, “Captain Rambeau!”

All that answered back was the eerie silence, menacingly clouding around him.

---

One week after (F/N) disappeared, Johnson looked to Captain Monica Rambeau for help. 12 hours later, Rambeau herself is untraceable, almost exactly like (F/N). Thinking that those disappearances may somehow be connected, Boone was sent to Westview, New Jersey. She’d be working alongside SWORD, and a few others handpicked for the situation at hand.

She’d consider it pretty boring. But Monica’s sudden disappearance was intriguing. And if this case is connected to or similar to (F/N)’s, then finding Monica would bring them a step closer to finding her best friend. Or at least, that’s how Turner sees it.

Two of his friends went missing a week apart. He’s going to start looking for dots to connect where there might not be any. Duke was sent somewhere else, investigating another lead in Texas. How they managed to find something in Texas, she will never know.

Thinking about their situation brings Boone back to when everyone thought (F/N) was dead. How they did the exact opposite of what they’re doing now. They mourned her. Her presence in their lives was haunting them for so long, until she popped out of the desert, alive. Broken. She was never the same after that. What if when they find her again, she’d be like how she was all those years ago? What if she pushes them away again, grappling with whatever she experienced, wherever she is?

Boone tried not to fall too deep into thought as she drove through the highway. They have to find her. They can’t let her suffer like that again.

She pulled into the road leading into the town. The SWORD Response Base was full of tents, trucks, and armed men walking by. Soldiers branded with the SWORD symbol looked at her strangely, smug smirks and arrogant eyes. She hit them with a glare of her own, giving them a chill as intense as the cool autumn air.

Someone walked up to her, a dark-haired, pale woman who had a sarcastic but intelligent cadence. “Glad to know this place isn’t all stiff upper lips and boring old faces,” she said. She adjusted her glasses and offered Boone a hand. “I’m Doctor Darcy Lewis. And you?”

Boone smiled in recognition, “Agent Boone Cavanaugh.” She shook Darcy’s hand, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Doc. Great to finally meet you.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed at her, “Wait, you know about me?” She looked Boone up and down. “Who do you work for? FBI? CIA? SHIELD?”

“None of the above. They’re all no fun.” Boone smirked, “The ones I work for… we know how to have a good time.”

Darcy smiled at her. “So this won’t be completely boring then!”

Boone felt excitement grow in her chest. If Darcy was going to be around while she is, she might actually survive this. With a wink, she remarked, “I think I like you, Doctor.”

Their introductions were cut short by a stupidly serious looking soldier, approaching them from behind. “Miss Lewis!”

Darcy looked at him with an almost neutral (slightly frustrated and very used to it) expression. “Doctor Lewis.”

He looked over at Boone, scowling at her. “And who might you be?”

“Someone you better talk to with a bit more respect, chump.” She scowled at him. Shit, whoever looked at this guy and hired him was definitely not thinking straight. When his frown deepened, Boone shook her head with an incredulous laugh. “Special Agent Cavanaugh, Aftermath’s liaison.”

His brows shot up in recognition, and total regret. Aftermath was dangerous, they were good at their job. And they don’t do well with bullshitters. Especially Glitch. Special Agent Cavanaugh is never someone you want to cross. “My apologies, Ma’am, I didn’t realize-”

“Shut the hell up, we’ve both got work to do.” She gestured to Darcy, who stared at her in awe. All the scientist could do was scratch her head as the man almost turned to jelly under the Cheshire cat’s cool, angry gaze.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He averted his eyes from Boone, and instead looked to Darcy. “Your gear is set up inside.” Without another word, he led them inside one of the tents.

Darcy looked up at her, still in awe. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Boone, walking beside her, took a deep breath to calm herself. “Do what?”

“Be a badass.” Boone chuckled at that. Yeah, she definitely likes her.

“I don’t think you need it, Doc. You’re a woman in STEM.” That made Darcy smile.

They both entered the tent, greeted by a large window that gave them a view of Westview, and SWORD’s efforts to learn more about it. The drones that they keep sending in and losing just as quickly, the lights that make it easier to spot the static barricade. Darcy’s head started racing when she saw another drone enter the wall and vanish completely.

“Those drones you’re sending in, what kind of data are you getting?”

Their escort somehow found his confidence again, and with crossed arms and a confident stance, he said, “I’m afraid that’s highly classified.”

Boone and Darcy shared a look. Boone pretended to inspect him through narrow eyes, “Yeah, no… he’s bullshitting.” She whispered.

“You can’t see anything?” Darcy looked at him, he tilted his head, trying to look like he wasn’t embarrassed twice in the last five minutes. Boone clicked her tongue, mirroring his falsely confident posture. Darcy rolled her eyes as she walked to a desk and set up her things. “FBI, Army, I saw the Air Force Office of Special Investigations out there.” Boone helped her lift a briefcase onto the desk. “Research Lab, Space Command too. You even have Aftermath joining the fray!” She pointed at Boone before sarcastically adding, “A bona fide, joint multi-service response. Really looking forward to the commemorative t-shirt.”

Boone smiled, excited. “There’s gonna be a t-shirt after this?” Their escort didn’t look as amused as she was. It looked like his arms were stuck in the same crossed position on his chest, and it was very funny.

“Is there somewhere two ladies could get some coffee?”

Boone gasped, sharing the exact same thought. “Could you get someone to drive to a Starbucks? I’m parched.”

Darcy plugged an antenna into a radar, continuously messing with the guy who at this point, looks ready to walk away with a string of curses left in his wake. “You guys look like you might get down with those little pod things. Horrendous for the environment, but quicker than Starbucks!”

Boone was having too much fun watching Darcy mess with him, so of course he had to go all serious again.

“Make your assessment, please.” He said impatiently.

Darcy turned on the radar, watching the data appear on the screen with a surprised expression. “Whoa.” The monitor was showing them spikes of powerful energy surges. Boone leaned down, her brows furrowing at the sight.

“Yeah, I concur with whoa.” She whispered.

“What’re you getting?” Stony-faced Soldier Man walked towards them, looking at the screen, not understanding what made their eyes widen.

“A colossal amount of CMBR.” Darcy explained, worry lacing her still upbeat tone.

Stony-faced Soldier was still confused, “CM…”

“Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.” They told him at the same time. Boone was wondering how he was still here if he didn’t know what that was. She mistakenly assumed that SWORD hired people who understood even the basics of astrophysics, or at least pretended to.

“We’ve been told the radiation is within a safe limit.”

“Uh… it is, for now.” Darcy told him. He was still clueless.

“Wait, what do you mean-”

“SHHH!” The radar started to buzz. Darcy squinted at the screen. “There are longer wavelengths superimposed over the noise here.” She bit her lip, thinking. She tapped Boone’s hand resting on the back of her seat, “Hey, could you help me with…” she pointed to the larger machine on the floor.

They both reached down, lifting it together. “Geez, what the hell is in this thing?” Boone wheezed as they plopped it onto the desk.

Darcy didn’t answer, instead plugging it in quickly and turning the knobs to the right place, tuning out the frequencies. The small circular screen on the box lit up and the graininess slowly cleared away, revealing a vague form of a woman. A familiar woman.

Darcy looked up at them. “I need a TV. An old one, like… not flat.”

---

They had provided Darcy and Boone a Motorola TV set. As Darcy got it hooked up, Boone looked at her questioningly. “Are you sure about this, Doc?”

Darcy looked up at her for a minute. “To be honest, no. But it should get us something.” She plugged it into the radars, and the TV turned on. Black and white, like the old movies she’d watch with (F/N) on more relaxed nights. It was a sitcom. A kitchen, a woman standing in the middle. She was dressed to the nines, hair curled to frame her face and- hold on a damn minute.

“Wanda?” Boone whispered. She couldn’t believe it. She leaned closer to the screen, a hopeful smile spreading on her face. She’s found Wanda, which means (F/N) just might be here.

“What? What is it?” Darcy looked at her, slightly creeped out by the sudden toothy grin on her face. “Is that… Wanda Maximoff?”

Boone laughed, not able to speak in her excited, nervous state. Suddenly the smile fell off her face when another figure entered the kitchen.

Vision.

It’s the Vision, alive and well, with his wife. None of this was adding up. Vision died five years ago. Darcy watched on, just as puzzled. Boone wasn’t listening to the couple talk anymore, the mere sight of him was sending her down a spiral of thought.

Wanda and Vision were living in a 1950s sitcom. “What the fuck…”

Suddenly, a knock sounded from the TV. Wanda, moving almost unnaturally to answer it. Vision changed from his android form to human as Wanda called out, “Who is it?”

“Your new neighbor down the road!”

Boone’s heart stopped. That voice was unmistakable. It was too chipper, too bright, but it was her. Wanda opened the door, confirming Boone’s thoughts. “(F/N).” Boone felt tears prick her eyes. They found her.

Darcy moved her chair to the side, letting Boone sit next to her as she watched. Something about the look on her face made Darcy realize, Boone wasn’t just here for Westview, or for Monica. She was here for the woman at Wanda’s door.

Boone watched her smile and laugh. She looked happy. Happier than she was in their world. It was unnatural. Wanda introduced her to Vision, as if the two had never met. “Miss (F/N) (L/N),” she said.

(F/N) chuckled. “It’s missus now! Mrs. (F/N) Gonzalez!” Boone looked at her hand, now decorated with a wedding band. Her jaw hit the floor.

This was a lot to process. Her best friend went missing for a week, and now she’s living her best life in a 1950s sitcom, married to a man that died fifteen years ago.

Darcy looked over at her, concerned. “Boone, you okay?” She had gone pale, staring at the woman on Wanda’s couch, unblinking. It kinda scared her.

Boone suddenly gasped, standing up abruptly and reaching for her phone. She found (F/N), now they have to reach her. Now they have to get her out. And she has a feeling she knows who can do it. She owes him a seat on the table.

“Libra, I need you.”

Duke answered quickly, her panic alarming him. “What do you need?”

“I need you to get Barnes here. Now.” She gulped. “I found her.”

---

Bucky was sitting on the floor of his empty apartment. He couldn’t bother to decorate or make it look nice. The sun was setting, bathing the bare space with warm orange light. He’d been flipping through TV channels for what felt like hours. There was nothing for him to do and no one for him to talk to. His therapist wasn't exactly a good conversationalist, sometimes she answered his calls with a huff, which was always disheartening to hear from the person the government paid to listen to his problems.

Sam tried calling too, somehow he found out that he was already in New York. He also somehow found out his phone number. He’d been texting Bucky throughout the week, asking how he’s been and if he’d like to meet up for a drink sometime. As kind as he was, Bucky didn’t exactly want his company.

He only wanted her. Part of him was waiting for her to just call out of the blue. To tell him that she was okay, she was home, and he isn’t alone. He just wanted to hear her voice, see her eyes. She’d look beautiful in the light of the cityscape sunset.

If there was anything he really committed to since arriving in New York, it was a new look. Amma was right, he needed a haircut, he was starting to look a bit… shabby. And it made him look too much like the Winter Soldier. One late night of avoiding sleep was spent in the bathroom, shaving and cutting his hair alone. It was one of those moments where he wished she was there.

She would be laughing at him, or saying something sarcastic, or running her hands through his shorter hair. He felt her touch, and heard her voice. She was haunting him.

His longing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He sighed, and got up off the floor to answer it. He opened the door to a man he still didn’t know how to feel about.

“Dugan?”

“Hello to you, too.” Duke was on edge, and, to Bucky's surprise, he cut to the chase. Without any kind of preparation for Bucky’s nerves. “Boone’s in New Jersey. She found (F/N).” Bucky’s brows shot up, his arms fell on his sides as his breath hitched. Before he could ask anything more from him, Duke went inside the apartment. “I’m taking you there.” He smiled at Bucky’s dumbfounded expression. “I told you we’d be needing your help.”

---

The sun had gone down and the rain started to pour. A SWORD Agent, suited up in protective gear akin to a hazmat suit, approached the opened manhole. Hayward walked over to them. “You good to go?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hayward nodded, and made his voice louder as the rain pelted down. “These sewers will take you straight into town.” He patted the agent on the back. “Try to find anything you can on Rambeau.”

“Copy that!” The Agent was slowly lowered into the hole towards the inside of the town.

“Agent Franklin, we’re gonna keep this channel open for you.”

He crawled through the sewer, cramped and claustrophobic, giving him a sense of dread. “Copy.” He crawled slowly through the tight passageway.

Above, Hayward walked off to a tent. Agent Woo ran up to him, the cold rain making him tremble slightly. “Director Hayward, between you and me and the bedpost, I am not confident about this mission.”

“Thanks for the feedback, Jimmy. If only my drones were as forthcoming.” That was supposed to shake him away, but the Agent persisted even as they entered the tent.

“There’s no reason to suspect the perimeter doesn’t extend subterraneously.”

“There’s no reason to suspect it does.”

“We don’t know about the nature of the threat to send in another agent when the first is yet to return.”

“Someone must really miss you back at Quantico.”

“No, sir. Softball season’s over, sir.” Jimmy said that with the same seriousness he approached Hayward with, making him nod and leave with impatience.

He walked to the center of the room, where the table glowed with a holographic map of the town. “What do we have up?”

“Radar, lidar, sodar, infrared.” The scientist pointed to each screen at the corners of the room, before resting her hands on the table.

“Cycle through.” The visuals on every screen changed, but still, they gained nothing useful, and they had been here all day. “Will someone get me a useful visual, damnit?” As he shouted to the room in frustration, from one corner of the room, came a laugh track. Everyone turned their heads to the source of the noise. “What is that?”

Dr. Lewis and Agent Cavanaugh, huddled together, eyes glued to the screen of a vintage TV. A black and white sitcom was playing, and in it were familiar faces, playing the roles of husband and wife.

Jimmy and Hayward approached them. Jimmy sat on the desk beside Boone, looking at the screen with a puzzled expression. “Is that…”

Darcy looked up at him, “ Yeah, it looks like her.”

“You move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air! Who needs to abbreviate?”

Befuddled, Vision put his head in his hands. “Darling…”

Darcy looked at him in wonder, “Look, I know it’s been a crazy few years on this planet. But he’s dead, right?” Boone’s brows furrowed, things get weirder and weirder. “Not Blipped. Dead.”

...“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

(F/N) appeared on the screen, the expression on her face the most familiar and the realest thing she had ever done since she appeared on the ‘show’. “I’m looking at him.” Boone smiled, even in a surreal domestic setting, her presence was still one of command. In a way, she misses it, even if it always called for trouble.

Hayward pointed to the screen. “You two,” Darcy and Boone glanced at him, the latter with a glare that could slowly morph into something scarier. She moved away to let the doctor deal with him. He didn’t seem to notice. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Out there!” Darcy gestured to Westview.

“Is it authentic?” Hayward asked.

Darcy shook her head. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“Is it happening in real time? Is it recorded? Fabricated?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, and I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“My equipment registered an extremely high level of CMBR.” Darcy explained, “That’s…”

“Relic radiation dating back to the Big Bang.” He interrupted.

“Yeah. Entwined were some broadcast frequencies. So I had your goons pick us up a couple of sweet vintage TV sets, and when I plug this bad boy in, voila! Sound and picture.”

(F/N) was out the backdoor, waving goodbye to Wanda. “Dinner next week?”

“Perhaps we’ll go to your house instead.”

At seeing (F/N), Agent Woo’s eyes widened. “Captain (L/N) is here too?”

Boone nodded, “We’ve been ransacking the whole damn world this whole week, and she was in New Jersey all this time, as a fucking 50s housewife no less.” She mumbled under her breath, loud enough for only the Agent to hear.

“You’re saying the universe created a sitcom starring three Avengers?” He didn’t seem to believe what he had just said. Everyone behind them was looking at the screen, confused.

Darcy shrugged. “It’s a working theory.”

Hayward called out an order to Stony-Faced Soldier Man, “Get me a transport back to headquarters now.” As he walked away, he asked them. “Are we recording this?”

“Never stopped.”

“I need immediate analysis.” He said to Boone and Darcy, and then turned to the other agents. “Now people! Let’s go.” He walked away as everyone got back to work.

Boone scowled in Hayward’s direction. He was hiding something. He knows something none of them are privy to. But when Boone finds out, he’s dead. Darcy raised a brow at Jimmy. “He’s a charmer.”

He didn’t answer, only looking at both Darcy and Boone. “Great work!” He walked away.

“Hey, thanks.” Darcy smiled, and then looked up again as another laugh track played on screen. “Maybe I could get that coffee now?”

Boone placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder, “I can make you a cup.” She walked away quickly, off to make some coffee.

She gave Boone a grin, “Thank you, Agent.” On the screen, the theme song played as Wanda and Vision shared a kiss. Darcy smiled, at the heartwarming sight. “Aw…” The credits rolled, and she took note of the length of the ‘episode’.

Boone walked back to her quickly, two warm cups of coffee in her hands. She put one down on the desk for Darcy, while taking a sip out of her own. She huffed, Bucky wasn’t here yet. She looked at Darcy, blowing the steam out of her cup. “Hey, Doc. I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“You mentioned there was more than one frequency. Do you think you can get us a visual on (L/N)?”

Darcy sighed, “I don’t know if that’s going to work, I only got the strongest one to really show up on screen.” She looked up at Boone’s pleading green eyes. They looked tired, desperate. Slowly, she started to plug in another TV. “But we can always try.”

The TV turned on, and Boone let Darcy fiddle with it. Like before, the first thing they saw was static, soon clearing away. They saw a different house with a different couple.

“Is this what you were looking for?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah, this is it.”

“I can record this one too, if you need it?”

Boone glanced at her, grateful. “Please do. Thanks, Doc.”

(F/N) and Daniel Gonzalez, sitting at a candlelit table, eating in happy silence. It didn’t feel bright and cheerful like the sitcom-like home Wanda and Vision lived in. This one felt real, more comfortable. (F/N) looked at the man next to her with a happy sparkle in her eye.

None of it was making sense. Danny died years ago, right in front of (F/N), and yet here he was, alive and well, eating dinner right beside her. She wasn’t looking at him like he had come back from the dead. She was looking at him like he was the only thing in the world.

The tent doors opened, and in walked a bewildered and worried Bucky Barnes, accompanied by Duke Dugan. No one paid them any mind. Duke spotted Boone in the corner of the room, watching TV. “Glitch!”

Boone looked behind her, “Fucking hell, what took you so long?” She marched to them.

“What’s going on? Where is she?” Bucky said. Boone’s eyes lingered on him, wondering how exactly to explain what was going on, and what he was about to see.

She gestured to Darcy’s desk, said woman moved away to let everyone look at the screen as she started up her laptop. Bucky leaned down, watching the screen with an unreadable expression. Boone knew what it was though. The longer he watched, the more his heart broke.

Right in front of him, (F/N) was smiling softly, looking at a wedding photo, taken from a wedding that never happened, with a man who died a long time ago. She looked like she didn’t have a care in the world. She was nothing like (F/N). Nothing like the woman who was battered by war. She wasn’t hardened or in pain. This wasn’t the woman he fell in love with, but at the same time, it was her. Completely, purely her.

Even in black and white, she had the same smile that she reserved for Bucky, but she was giving it to a stranger, who was holding her in his arms. Bucky’s brows furrowed as that man, her husband, gently held her face in his hands. She leaned into his touch.

Bucky’s eyes were watering at the sight of (F/N), living a completely different life, happy and at peace with someone who wasn’t him. He wasn’t the one holding her now, he wasn’t the one promising to protect her, and he wasn’t the one making her smile.

He felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” Duke asked quietly. He took a deep breath, and sniffled. Darcy stopped her typing, looking over at the two newcomers.

“I’m fine.” He hardened his eyes, looking to Boone for an explanation.

“We don’t know much yet. Only that it seems everyone in town is living in a 50s sitcom. Wanda Maximoff is here too, and she’s not much different.”

Duke frowned, “How is he alive?” The man on the screen looked out the window, before turning off the lights and walking away. “Captain Daniel Gonzalez died a long time ago. Did someone... bring him back to life?”

Darcy raised a hand, joining the discussion, “We still don’t know why, but whatever’s going on has brought a couple people back from the dead. Vision’s in Westview as well, living in matrimonial bliss with Wanda.”

Duke looked at Boone, “So whatever’s doing this is giving them a weird domestic fantasy, where their deceased boyfriends are suddenly alive and living normal lives?”

“The most that we know is that they aren’t aware of the fantasy. Both Wanda and (F/N) witnessed their loved one’s deaths, so they should know something’s wrong.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Bucky spoke up, still somewhat in shock, “(F/N)’s trapped in there, her mind isn’t her own?” The description was painfully familiar to Bucky, and it hurt that that was how he was describing (F/N) now.

Boone gave him a sympathetic look. “That about sums it up, I think.” Boone looked at Darcy, “We have to find a way to reach out to her. Get her to snap out of it.” She moved to the computer, rewinding some of the recorded footage. She pointed to the mantlepiece. “There, they’ve got a radio.”

“We can try and jump the frequencies, shoot a signal. If that radio can pick up ours, which I’m assuming it can because we found theirs, we might get to talk to them.” Darcy said.

Bucky perked up at that, “I can talk to her.”

“You have to give me some time, mister. Getting their frequency wasn’t very easy. This one might take a while.”

“I’ll wait.” He nodded, looking at the still picture of (F/N) on the screen, smiling up at Danny. It made his heart pick up speed. “I just want to talk to her.”

---

It was already late into the night, but the Base was buzzing. Jimmy was addressing a team of agents in front of an empty board. Darcy sat alongside Boone, Duke, and Bucky, all eyes on the Agent. “First and foremost, our main objective is to get any intel on Captain Rambeau, but originally, this case was a missing person, so we’re going to start there.

“We successfully identified four individuals inside the Westview Anomaly.” He moved to pin four photos on the board. All of them black and white. Wanda, with a large smile on her face, speaking into a telephone. Vision in human form, a worried expression on his face as he sat on a desk. Daniel Gonzalez, standing by the candlelit table in a dark room. And (F/N), happy and carefree, sitting on Wanda’s couch.

Jimmy nodded to them, “Let’s keep going.” Everyone went back to work almost immediately, trying to identify each person inside Westview, and answering more questions.

Mr. and Mrs. Hart, Todd and Sharon Davis.

Norm, Abhilash Tandon.

Jones, Harold Copter.

Beverly, Isabel Matsueida.

Herb, John Collins.

Are Vision and Gonzalez alive? Why sitcoms? Does (F/N) remember?

Boone, Bucky, and Duke were all monitoring the Gonzalez household, watching (F/N)’s life go on in black and white. Seeing her eyes shine as they looked into someone else’s the way they used to look into his, made Bucky want to leave. But he had to keep watching, if only to make sure she’s okay.

He only wanted to see her smile.

Boone’s eyes flicked over to the other TV screen, still showing Wanda’s sitcom. Darcy left to grab a snack a few minutes ago, and let the TV keep playing. Now, there on the screen was Wanda, out shopping with ‘Agnes’. In the frame was Monica Rambeau, casually sitting on a bench. She stared at it. Darcy walked back to the desk, when she saw what Boone was looking at, she gasped and dropped her perfectly good cup of instant noodles, right on Boone’s shoe. Luckily for Darcy, she didn't seem to mind.

They called Jimmy over, and the three of them stared at the screen.

“Does she seem okay to you?” Darcy eyed him.

He raised a brow. “Well, she doesn’t seem to be harmed in any way, but…” He looked up at Boone. “That is definitely not the boss lady I met yesterday.”

“So, what, deep cover? Monica has to play along?”

“With whom? Or else, what?”

Boone sighed. “If she was playing along, how come she never breaks character? Ever? Look…” She pointed at Monica, “All perfectly natural. Never looks at the camera, never drops the expression. At some point, she has to show a sign, right?”

Jimmy sighed. “Alright, brass tacks, Dr. Lewis. What are we lookin’ at here? Is it an alternate reality? Time travel? Some cockamamie social experiment?”

“It’s a sitcom. A 1950s sitcom.”

Jimmy shook his head, looking at both women. “But why?”

Boone ran a hand through her hair. “We don’t have that much to go on, Agent.”

Darcy suddenly looked up at Boone, eyes bright. “Hey, how about we test out that idea you had?”

Jimmy looked up at her. “Wait, what idea?”

Boone looked between the both of them. “Alright, but…” She looked over to Bucky, hunched over a desk, writing down anything he finds on screen. “He volunteered to test it out.”

---

Right outside Westview, Darcy set up the transmitter. Bucky was staring up at the barrier, trying to ignore his nerves. Duke, standing next to him, noticed his quietness, and his nervous huffs of breath.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Bucky’s eyes were illuminated by the blue. “This would be pretty cool, if (F/N) wasn’t trapped inside of it. Kinda reminds me of Wakanda, except that wasn’t to keep people in, more to just keep intruders out. This, whatever this is, it’s doing both. ”

Duke chuckled, mumbling, “You’re such a nerd.”

Bucky looked back at him with a small smirk. Before he could ask him what he just said, Darcy called them over. He kept his hands inside his pockets, concealing his metal arm with his jacket and gloves.

“Alright, guys, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Bucky was listening intently. “We’re gonna reach out to (F/N) first to see if this works, we’re going to try and communicate through the radio on her mantlepiece. When she’s close by, we’ll shoot a signal to that guy.” She pointed to the transmitter, “This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast, and if my theory is correct, allow us to speak directly to her.”

She walked back to Bucky, who stood beside Agent Woo at the ready. “This is totally going to work.” She said to them. Jimmy fiddled with something on the machine, Darcy almost slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch that.”

An Agent walked up to Agent Woo, and Bucky tuned out their voices, trying to think of what he’s going to say to (F/N). The agent gave Jimmy a folder, inside was a still shot from the episode.

Bucky caught sight of it. “What is that?” Standing out from the black and white, was what looked like a toy helicopter, red and yellow.

Darcy was looking at it too. “Is that… like a retro version of a SWORD drone?”

“Bingo.”

“But how did it change and why?”

“To go with production design?”

“Or render it useless.” Darcy said.

Bucky shook his head, “That doesn’t explain the color. Why does the drone have color?”

Agent Woo looked at the other agent, “Did you colorize it?”

She shook her head at them, “I didn’t.”

They shared a look. Bucky’s heart rate picked up again when Darcy nodded to him. “Let’s get this show on the road.” The agent left, and the three of them stood there, getting ready to make themselves known. Duke kept his eye on them from a distance.

Bucky put on the headset, Jimmy asked him if he could hear him, to which Bucky nodded. He heard Darcy through the channel, “Alright Bucky, are you ready?”

“Ready, Doctor.”

Jimmy looked at the window where she was watching them, giving her a thumbs up. Darcy sat next to Boone, whose eyes were glued to the screen showing them (F/N)’s house. Darcy spoke to Bucky, “Okay, she’s in the kitchen. She’ll be able to hear you whenever you start.”

Boone watched her setting a plate on the screen, listening for Bucky’s voice on the radio. (F/N) looked up when the radio started to crackle. The static wrapped around the room, and (F/N)’s face went from annoyed, to suddenly blank. It was the kind of face she made when she was thinking about something, trying to figure something out on her own. Darcy spoke into the headset, “Start talking, Bucky.”

Bucky took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and started to call out into the mic. “(F/N)? (F/N) can you hear me?” He could hear the song playing on the radio, but he couldn't be sure he was loud enough for her to hear.

The signal wasn’t as strong as they’d hope it would be, as the song on the radio kept fighting against them. (F/N) walked over to the radio, brows furrowed. She lifted her hand to turn the dial, stopping when Bucky’s voice came on. Still unclear in the static, but recognizable.

“Answer me, doll… Please tell me you’re okay.”

(F/N) froze, her eyes wide. “She’s hearing you, Barnes. She’s hearing you, keep going!” Boone yelled in excitement.

Bucky heard Boone’s yelling and his heart leaped with joy. “It’s me, (F/N). Come on, snap out of it. You have to remember…” His voice was shaking, and Jimmy looked at him, worried.

Boone watched her face light up in recognition, and she listened to the crackling radio, waiting for Bucky to finally get through to her.

“It’s me, doll.” His voice shook. “It’s Bucky. Can you hear me?”

As quickly as she lit up, her face dimmed again, morphing into annoyance as she shook her head. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Boone fell back onto her seat. “Shit.” She can only be glad Bucky didn’t hear her say that. He’d be heartbroken.

The song echoing through his headset went quiet, and Bucky wasn’t getting any response. He looked at Jimmy, who looked back at Darcy. “What happened?”

Duke saw Boone and Darcy make her way out to them. She looked frustrated, tired. On the verge of tears. She was mumbling under her breath, “So close, we were so close.”

Bucky looked at her, confused. “Did she hear me? Why’d the radio stop playing?”

“She heard you. She heard you loud and clear.” Boone shook her head. “Something’s pushing you away though.”

Bucky sighed. “So, she can’t…” He didn’t want to say it. “She can’t remember me.”

Darcy watched his face fall. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from crying. “Hey, we’re going to keep trying. Maybe we can get through to Wanda.”

Bucky walked away from them, ignoring Duke asking if he was okay. God, now he knows how (F/N) felt.

In the darkness, he could sense her reluctance.

“Ты бы не стал,” he said, his head cocking to the side as a soft, hollow smile crossed his face, “Ты в меня влюблен.” You wouldn’t. You’re in love with me.

Her jaw clenched as she shook her head, “No. Not with you.”

He took a deep breath, pushing the memory away. He was always so scared that it would happen again, that she’d get hurt if he forgot. But never once did he think that she would be the one who can’t remember him. Now she’s the one fighting against his voice.

There aren’t any bullets or knives, no furniture being cast aside, no fighting or screaming. All (F/N) had to do was flip a switch, and he was gone. He never thought it possible, but this was so much worse.

He saw the TV screen, where she stood with that stranger. The man she believes is married to her. They were having breakfast, bickering. Planning a date. They were having a normal morning, a normal life together. Something Bucky can never guarantee she can have with him.

---

They tried to reach Wanda this time, with Jimmy taking the mic instead of Bucky. Darcy watched the first TV screen, where Wanda was playing out her sitcom. They were outdoors, surrounded by more people. Monica was now sitting next to Wanda, handing her a platter.

“Jimmy, Monica is talking to Wanda. She’s got a speaking part now.”

“What is she saying?”

“Those pants are peachy keen!”

“...She likes Wanda’s pants.” She let the scene continue playing, “Ugh, Wanda’s at some sort of swim club. We’ve never been here before.”

Jimmy shook his head, waiting for the signal. “Is it the 60s still?”

“Uh… Wanda’s with another character.”

“Real person?”

Now something else was on the screen, (F/N) was lounging by the pool, and Wanda was taking Monica over to her. “Wait, wait… Monica and (F/N) are talking to each other!”

“She’s there too?”

“Yeah, Wanda’s introducing her to (F/N)...”

Boone perked up at the mention of (F/N), swiveling to look at Darcy’s screen. “Wow, that’s quite the outfit.” She smiled, her friend looked good in a bikini. Suddenly, Danny entered the frame, dripping wet from the pool. “Hello, Danny…” Boone tilted her head as Danny glared at Monica, his stare was aggressive.

(F/N) jumped into the pool with him, and Wanda was now in the gazebo. The frame shifted to ‘Dottie’, showing the radio on the table nearby. Darcy called to Jimmy, “Oh, there’s a radio on the side table. Start talking.”

Jimmy took the mic, “Wanda, Wanda can you read me, over?” He held the mic away from him when he was met with silence, he talked to Darcy again, “Can’t she hear me?”

“I don’t think so. Keep trying.”

He talked into the microphone again, speaking louder this time. “Wanda?”

Darcy saw Wanda’s eyes grow wide when she finally heard the voice. Then, (F/N) entered the frame, looking at the radio, confused. Boone spoke to Jimmy, “(F/N)’s here Jimmy, try and get her attention.”

“Captain (L/N), can you hear me?” Wanda and (F/N) both had different looks on their faces. While Wanda was panicking, (F/N) had the same look of realization from their first attempt. She’s remembering, it’s clear to see. “Captain? Wanda? Who is doing this to you?”

Suddenly the TV went static, and the frame somehow jumped. It was like nothing ever happened. The frame changed, and (F/N) was no longer there. ‘Dottie’ was reprimanding Wanda now. It was almost like nothing happened.

Boone and Darcy looked at the screen confused. Boone was more frustrated than anything. “Where’d she go? Where’s (F/N)?”

Darcy furrowed her brow. “Hold on.”

“What?” Jimmy said from the comms.

“I don’t know…” Dottie, who was just a few seconds ago, looking at Wanda in fear, was now smug and uppity, like she was before they tried to communicate. “That was weird.”

“What was?”

“Nothing. It’s over, mission failure.”

A commercial started to play, and Boone stared at the screen. It was advertising a watch, made by Strucker. She wrote it down in a notebook, “That’s weird.” She whispered to herself, "Commercials referencing Wanda's past..."

“It was worth a try, Doctor.”

“Yeah, come on in.”

As Jimmy walked back to them, Boone asked Darcy to keep an eye on the commercials. Bucky walked back to them, with a resolute look on his face. He sat next to Darcy, staring at the screen, where (F/N) and Danny seemed to be having an argument. It was a tense scene, but (F/N) was looking up at Danny, holding his face in her hands, talking to him softly.

Darcy was looking at (F/N)’s screen too. “Aww, that’s sweet.” She didn’t notice Bucky’s glare, “They’re so in love. It’s like a 60s rom-com. ”

“Sure…” His voice was tight with anger.

Darcy looked back at him, remembering. She cringed at herself, "I am so sorry..."

He waved her away, changing the subject. “Doc, I’d like to try again.” He glared at the man on the screen, “I wanna talk to him.”

Boone looked at him in disbelief. “You want to talk to Danny?”

Jimmy took the idea into consideration. “Maybe that could work… third time’s the charm, right?”

Darcy looked up at them, catching Boone’s eye. “I don’t know. We’ve gotten two different reactions to this. (F/N) and Wanda could be subconsciously aware of what’s going on, but Danny is supposed to be dead in our reality. He’s only really alive in Westview...”

“Which might be why he’s the problem.” Bucky murmured.

“What the hell do you mean?” Boone frowned at him, “Are you saying he’s the one doing this to them?”

“No. What if someone’s making a really elaborate illusion? Two elaborate illusions, to keep Wanda and (F/N) under their control. They just so happen to have dead boyfriends. What if someone used that to their advantage?”

Jimmy nodded as he started to understand, “So, the whole town’s being mind controlled, and the two people powerful enough to stop it are being put in check with… physical manifestations of their own grief?”

Boone caught sight of Duke, coming in from the restroom, she looked at him with a raised brow. He stopped, arms raised. “I swear, whatever he’s thinking, I didn’t tell him to say it.”

“I figured. It’s actually well thought out.” Bucky looked up at her in surprise. “It’s a stupid idea, but still, you thought about it.”

“We can try, right?” Jimmy asked Darcy. A cacophony of yeses and no’s answered him, with Boone adding a “You have gotta be joking.”

Darcy looked at all of them, “Look, based on how the other two attempts went, I’m not optimistic.” Bucky leaned forward, the determined look on his face was daunting. He was silently pleading for her to let him do this, and whether she felt sorry for him or afraid, she added, “But we’re grasping at straws and if it gets us somewhere, I’m doing it.”

---

They were outside again, Jimmy decided to test it out first, measuring any reaction ‘Danny’ could have to his voice. Darcy and Boone were once again watching the screen. They watched (F/N) go up the stairs. Danny, alone, stood by the mantelpiece. An unreadable gaze lingered on their wedding photo.

Darcy alerted Jimmy. “Alright, he’s by the radio. Talk and he’ll hear you.”

He raised the microphone for him to speak. “Can you read me?”

Danny paused, his breath stuck in his throat.

“What is your name?”

They couldn’t tell if he could hear them, his eyes were confused, there was a hint of fear in them. Bucky spoke into the comms, “What’s he doing? Is he responding?”

“He’s not doing anything…” Suddenly, Danny stared right into the camera, anger evident in his eyes. Darcy scooted her chair back, a chill running down her spine. Boone frowned.

Frustrated, Bucky pulled the mic away from Jimmy. Ignoring his protestation, he skipped the formalities with Danny. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing to (F/N)?”

They watched for his reaction, waiting with bated breath. In a harsh whisper, he answered.

“Leave us alone.”

The screen went static, before shutting off entirely. “Wait, what?” Darcy pressed every button she could, to no avail. The TV was dead.

“What? What happened?” Jimmy looked to the window, seeing Darcy and Boone’s confused faces. “Did he say something?”

Bucky looked up at them, the anger still clear in his eyes. “...It went quiet, I…” He took off his headset, looking up at the blue wall, imposing above them. “It’s no use.”

They ran back inside to see Boone and Darcy trying to get the screen back on. They soon gave up, and with a sigh Boone looked at them. “He responded.”

“What did he say?” Bucky asked, impatient.

“He said, ‘leave us alone’. After that the TV that was for monitoring them shut off completely. We can’t get it to turn back on.”

Jimmy looked at Bucky, frowning. “Maybe you were right, Bucky,” Everyone looked at them now, the same tired look on their faces. “He might have something to do with this.” He felt his heart beating faster and faster. He threw out an excuse and left quickly.

Duke approached Agent Woo, “Hey Agent. I just want to apologize for how my friend acted back there, it’s just that he-”

“It’s alright, Agent Dugan. I understand completely.” They glanced at Bucky, sitting on a bench away from them, hunched forward with his head in his hands. “I know who he is, and why he’s here.” He smiled kindly at Duke. “I can’t imagine how you’re all feeling, especially him.”

“It’s hard on him, seeing her like that,” Duke scratched his neck. “But he’s strong. When (F/N) is part of your life, you have to be strong.”

Jimmy’s brows furrowed suddenly, doing a double take in Bucky’s direction. “Is he technically supposed to be here?”

Duke shrugged, “Maybe not, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s helping as much as he can.”

Jimmy nodded, “We’ll figure this out, sir.” He patted him on the arm. “She’ll be home soon.”

---

The SWORD base was now full of frustrated and tired agents, and TV sets. The whole place was tuned in to Wandavision, and for the very first time, there was color.

The one TV that Bucky had been praying would turn back on turned back on for only a few minutes, and his eyes stayed glued to them the whole time. He shouldn’t have watched.

At this point he thought he’d be a bit used to seeing her in the arms of another. He’d be used to the helplessness in his gut when he watched her be happy with someone else, living a different life.

They both shone bright with color, her eyes were brought to life, the way he knew them to be. It was like their whole world was being painted anew, and they danced. Amidst the arrival of color, all they looked at was each other. (F/N) was swaying in Danny’s arms, moving with the rhythm of the upbeat tune around the house.

Danny danced with her almost every night from what Bucky had watched, and they were always smiling up at each other like they were the only two people in the world. But this was different, it hurt to see.

She has never looked happier. Her eyes challenged the light of the sun. Seeing her this happy and beautiful, yet so far away from him shattered Bucky to pieces.

Boone walked over to him, watching the scene. She could feel his sadness from a mile away, it was infectious. She handed him a warm cup of coffee, and leaned over to turn off the screen. “You should go take a break, maybe have a bite to eat.”

He looked at her, the frown not leaving his face. “What about you?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

He took a gulp of the coffee, ignoring the way it burned his tongue. “Then, so am I.”

Boone chuckled and grabbed him by his right arm, trying to push him back to the bench. “Damnit, you’re too heavy.”

He walked off, chuckling. “I’ll be over here.”

Meanwhile, Darcy and Jimmy were watching the newest episode of Wandavision, a bag of chips in between them. This episode might be Darcy’s favorite. “1950s, 1960s, and now, the 70s… Why does it keep switching time periods?” She asked Jimmy, who was also enjoying Wanda and Vision’s hijinks. “It can’t purely be for my enjoyment, can it?”

“And I can’t believe Wanda and Vision are having a baby.”

She took chips from the bag, shoving them into her mouth. “You want any?”

Jimmy chuckled, “Heck, I thought about it for sure, a little Jimmy Woo.” His eyes sparkled as he looked off into the distance, “Give him a tiny little FBI badge,” he finally noticed the bag of chips Darcy was holding out to him, “Oh, you- chip? Sure…” He took one out of the bag, embarrassed.

On the screen, Wanda was screaming in pain, lying on the floor. ‘Geraldine’ was leaning over, encouraging her. (F/N)’s hand was trapped in Wanda’s deathly grip. Darcy and Jimmy went back to eating chips and watching the show.

(F/N) was looking into Wanda’s eyes, encouraging her with a soft voice. “Do you understand me, girlie?”

Darcy jumped up, getting excited. “The jig is up!”

‘Geraldine’ peeked under Wanda’s skirt, “It’s time to start pushing.” Wanda pushed as hard as she could, screaming in pain, still clutching (F/N)’s hand. Darcy and Jimmy leaned in.

‘Geraldine’ held up the crying baby, and handed him to Wanda. She greeted her newborn son with a happy smile and shining eyes. The camera panned to (F/N), her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy.

Darcy and Jimmy were invested, watching the heartwarming exchange between (F/N) and the new parents, and the sudden arrival of baby number two. “Twins!” Darcy shook her head in awe. Whoever was writing this false reality should get a raise. “What a twist.”

Jimmy gave her a look.

“What? I’m invested.”

...“He was killed by Thanos, wasn’t he?”

Jimmy looked back at the screen, startled by Monica’s voice. “Did she just say the name Thanos?” They looked at each other, Boone walked over to them suddenly, hearing what Monica had just said. “Has that happened before? A reference to our reality?”

“No, never.”

The tone in the show suddenly became heavier. Wanda and (F/N) were alarmed, their guards were up. Monica was cornered by two angered women.

“I’ll take a shift rocking the babies.”

“You should leave.”

(F/N) wasn’t just playing the character on screen, Boone recognized that look. It was the look she had behind the helmet during missions; focused, angry, ready for a fight. It was the look she had when she was Ghost. It made Boone shiver.

Bucky and Duke ran over to them, the other television sets in the base were echoing the scene. Everyone could hear the venom in (F/N)’s voice, directed at Monica.

“Something’s wrong over there.” Duke said, bringing Boone back from her thoughts. They watched Wanda tilt her head, and move towards Monica like a predator. In a split second, the frame almost glitched out. Instead of Wanda’s fiery eyes or (F/N)’s poisonous glare, the screen showed them Wanda and Vision, alone in the house, holding their two babies as they watched television. Vision was smiling, but his eyes were worried. The credits rolled.

“What happened? Where’d they go?” Jimmy said, panicking.

“God, not again.” Darcy huffed, exasperated. She leaned over Jimmy, reaching for her laptop to play back the recording. They replayed the moment, but found the same result. One second, Monica was there, backing away from Wanda, the next, the credits were rolling and they were alone in the house.

“There’s nothing here.” Darcy exclaimed. Boone moved towards them, moving the laptop in front of her. She replayed it, biting her lip. “One second, Monica is standing right there, and the next she isn’t.”

Boone stood up suddenly. “Someone is censoring the broadcast,” she glanced at Darcy, “like with Danny, and the radio.”

Bucky frowned, “So it’s him?”

Jimmy shook his head, confused. “Wait, but where’s Rambeau?”

The alarms blared. The boundary has been breached. They looked at each other in realization. Someone got out of Westview.

---

Wanda kept her eyes on the intruder, who somehow found her way into their home, their world. She waited until Daniel could get (F/N) out of the house, her eyes looked to the door quickly, hearing (F/N)’s shouts. When they were alone, she asked with a dangerously low voice.

“Who are you?”

‘Geraldine’ was cornered, shaking with fear. “Wanda…”

“Who are you?”

She tried to smile, masking her fear. “Wanda, I’m just your neighbor.”

Wanda tilted her head, “Then how did you know about Thanos?”

Tense silence enveloped the entire house. With a heavy breath, Wanda lifted her hands, glowing angrily. Red wisps followed the movement of her fingers. “You’re not my neighbor. And you’re definitely not my friend.” Her lips curled into a sinister smile, as angry tears fell from her eyes. “You are a stranger, and an outsider. And right now you are trespassing here.”

Monica froze. She was way past begging or reason.

“And I want you,” Wanda raised her hands, the force in the room coming together in her hold, “to leave.” She pushed Monica out of the house, breaking down the wall. The last thing she heard was her distant screams as she was carried away, back to where she came from. Back to the outside world.

Wanda froze, only realizing what she had done when her powers fizzled out and left her hands trembling. She looked up at the destroyed wall of the nursery, and of their living room. From outside she heard the faint yelling, (F/N)’s anger reverberating from the protective walls of their home and back to Wanda.

Wanda gulped, regret washing over her. She has to fix this. She pushed away (F/N)’s voice, and let her powers reverse the damage on their home, like she always did. Like nothing ever happened.

Her babies cooed from their crib, as if they had never cried in fear. She walked over to them, letting their presence calm her down.

Vision barged open the door, “Wanda?” He was worried, scared. She looked up, the fear in his voice was making her heart race again.

What was she doing?

Vision is dead…

This is not their home…

“Where is Geraldine?”

Geraldine was an intruder. She wanted to take away their happiness. She wanted to take (F/N) back to the outside, she wanted to take Wanda away from her family. “Oh, she left, honey. Had to rush home.”

She turned back to him with a smile, Vision’s dead eyes looked back to her. The Mind stone was torn out of his head, his skin was gray and lifeless. Wanda felt sick at the sight.

Vision, back from the dead, felt nothing was wrong. “What?” He walked closer to Wanda, almost like her guilt, her fear was crawling its way to her, mocking her. “What is it? What’s wrong, Wanda?”

She breathed in and looked back up at Vision. It was her husband, not dead. Not lifeless. Just him.

“Uh…”

Vision was worried about his wife and his family. “We don’t have to stay here.” He held Wanda by the arms, “We could go wherever we want.”

Wanda’s eyes were sad, but she smiled up at him. “No, we can’t.” Her answer confused him, but he hoped it was only her optimism, and not anything more. She held his face in her hand, “This is our home.”

He held her hand close, leaning into her touch. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, don’t worry, darling.” The look on her face chilled Vision. In his head, he wanted to be calm, but everything that’s happened today, hearing the neighbors talk about Geraldine, and watching (F/N)’s husband drag her away, it all gave him a sense of dread. But she assures him...

Wanda has everything under control.

---

Vans and trucks pulled up to the border, a helicopter flew through the sky, shining a spotlight on the grass. The light focused on the lone figure lying on the ground: Monica Rambeau. Still dressed as she was in the show, discombobulated and confused.

Paramedics rushed to her side, checking for her vitals. Her eyes were still out of focus.

Agent Woo, Dr. Lewis, Bucky Barnes and the Agents of Aftermath ran to her. Jimmy leaned own, examining her with worry. “Monica, are you okay?”

She looked up at them, shaking her head. “It’s Wanda.” Her voice was laced with fear.

“It’s all Wanda.”

//

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