#because he didn’t want people to make the connection between his chest plate and the Iron Man armor

[daydreamerdrew]

Iron Man (1968) #96

[m4nd0l0r]

Deviation of Self.

Description: The tarnations of his past are unescapable in every twist and turn. He realizes, it always will haunt him— and be the only way he can survive with everything he oh so desires.

Ship: Sith! (disguised as a Jedi) Five Hargreeves x Jedi! (GN!) Reader (Star Wars AU) (Implied Force Bond between the two)

Word Count: 2.2k+

Author’s note: WARNING! This deals with the topics of death and some form of a character study for Five (kind of) it can be triggering for ppl so please view with discretion!! i finally managed to finish this holy shit 😭😭 writer’s block once again came in to kick me in the ass, sending me to a thousand lightyears away from the earth itself- so that means i’m not sure how angsty this is— anyway i hope you enjoy reading this nonetheless!! (i might write other oneshots for this au- depends on it how it goes honestly SKSK) (if i do, that banner will be overused ASF im not making a new one mark my words—)

Dictionary ( i did say i’d do this so uh even if most ppl would know these info i’ll still add it for the sake of not confusing ppl :D): Force Bonds: a connection between two force sensitives or force users Force: basically the power used by both sith and jedi Sith: dark side users (usual villains) Jedi: light side users (usual heroes) Lightsaber: (we all know what this is cmon now /lh) weapons of force users

(Five is physically and somewhat mentally 18 in this fic!!)

Five Taglist: @ells-graveyard @noahspector @aelinismyqueen @sunweee @fivelegance @ne0boss @twauna00 @placidpluto @eichenhouseproperty @heartsforsuyin @ghostlywavelengths @ghostlycherryblossomwonderland @seconds-not-decades @coolcatlover4 @emotionally-unstabel @peachy-wolfhard @its-loki-bitch @raven-fandomtrash @theilliterateskankula @magicstrange @venusrambles @whereintheworldisspencerreid @honeycombdumbass @kazuive @oscarisaacsleftballsack @zenithinthebin @peachteeaaa @rchaoz @wickedmystery @wordsandnerds @umbrellatte @666abby6666 @iameddiemunsonshair @starlightinhumanform @vennythearsonist @trashmouthsahra @crinklypink @halfumbrella @wifeofcamillamacaulay (if you want to be removed/added, pls tell me via pm!!)

What plagues— haunts the boy like a lifeline that injects through his bloodstream; a river of horror plated right at his wide eyes. Voices, cries spread upon each sleep he takes, dreams morphing into nightmares, and faces become even more obscure with each step he takes. 

Five watches your chest rise up.. and down.. He wants- wishes he could brush even his knuckles softly to your skin, to feel your almost lively warmth. But he can’t risk it— he shouldn’t. 

Another lifeline to watch, to care for. To make sure you don’t fade out like blaring sirens from afar. His eyes were weary, yet he doesn’t stop watching you breathe. Seeing you inhale and exhale gave him comfort- that he was truly here with you— that you were here with him alive. 

His hand clenching through his glove, a horrible noise squeaks out from his fist. He cannot indulge in such, even if it were his key to calmness. Even if he almost lost you— even if he wants to take it, to open the lock for himself to drown into. Into the closeness that others crave from another. 

Was this the reason why others indulged in such things? Why would he hear and see people say that they would die for it— would risk themselves for one puff of smoke- a drop from the same dazzling liquid he wishes he now possesses or a pop from a pill? Just to get a taste of release from reality- through the dreaded bitterness? To access something- that peace they all crave— the very thing his and your own masters hoarded away from them? 

He didn’t bother to try to comfort you from what happened— he could tell you were trying to stray from it, to think of something else. And he respected that— because he does not want to talk about it either. 

The night ended with your kiss on his cold cheek, a warm breeze to a cold evening. He merely closes his eyes, letting it etch unto his mind, your actions almost frail and so weakened from fatigue. 

Breathing in deep, the Sith wishes to reach closer- to not be this far— for serenity to come into his mind, and he knows he will not regret. 

But he knows you would not want that. You do not need that- you need rest, he tells himself. Selfishness was something he cannot afford right now, not when he was already so hours ago. 

As if a root digs into his body, sprouting a seed to invade his senses. He only hopes your dreams are better. Better than the crumpling of flesh Five can’t get out of his head. Crack crack. It goes. 

He then takes another deep breath, his eyes now closing. 

The scraping of his glove to the hilt of his lightsaber chimes to him, as if he was trying to find comfort from it. But silence only rings like a drum in an empty parade. Fatigue rushing through him, from the sides of his head, to his palms— he wouldn’t be so disoriented if he just slept. Five tells himself off— his free hand cups his forehead, trying to lessen the wrinkles forming. 

You hum in your sleep, and he only tiredly smiles from the sound. Rustling is heard as you adjust your head further unto the comforts of your pillow, your hair now strung across the sheet. Whenever you slept quietly- in past missions- like a mouse playing dead under its captor’s whim, it scared him. 

He had to fight the urge to press his ear onto your back- or your chest, just so he could hear your heart pumping- your lungs breathing in and out. 

He preferred hearing it truly from you, not just a dislocated song from the Force, but he decided to settle watching instead- your chest rising and falling smoothly, with a few hiccups and snores. He will take what he can, but he doesn’t mind.

He prefered to hear such noises rather than the deathly quiet. 

Your breathing fades out, he fizzles out from reality, somewhere eerily quiet- more ‘stable’— rather than your tired huffs in your sleep. He doesn’t fight it off- and only lets himself be drowned to those noises- to forget. 

However he does not. He can never forget, he never will. Five merely hates himself— for not being strong enough- that he wasn’t quick enough to be by your side as he needs- wants to be. 

And he couldn’t accept it, rather he searches for another solution- an equation that simply something that he cannot solve nor exists entirely. 

-x-

He could feel the wind flare through his cheeks, as if it were fire and its purpose was to burn him alive. He could smell the scent of rotting flesh- even when all that remained were destroyed droids and the whiff of singed electrical wires- the same stench that bore through his hands as he picked up scraps out of the hands of the fallen. 

“Five..?” You choked out in short breaths. “Shit… shit..” It was hard to take in air— the pain in your chest- blood seeping from your hands, the adrenaline sinks into your veins. Your hand bloody from your own, almost paralyzing you to the point the feeling of your flesh pulsing- trying to stitch itself together when it simply cannot— it was numbing.

“I ‘ll be— be fine-“ You spill out- but he can’t feel his throat open to say anything. Silence only fills his guts, and lingers through the air. Fear takes his thoughts away, and leaves only irrationality. But he wishes he could let out something- to scream out to you that you need to live— that he was here- and he won’t ever dare to leave. 

He knew it pains you, that it cuts you deeply like a gash. He feels it with you— the bond formed by the Force for the both of you has him want to vomit- the pain was burning, sickening even. It made him feel as if he were being lit on fire— The flames eating him alive.

Yet, as you suffer so, you did not scrunch your face nor you let out another wail of pain— you only formed a smile. One that wants him to think that you’re fine with this— that he isn’t losing you. 

He at first thought you were letting yourself calm through of the teachings of the Jedi, to not be afraid of death. But he knows you more than Pogo, you were fearful, paranoid. You do not wish to know what could be beyond this plane of existence. You don’t want to die trying to. 

And he doesn't want that for you either.

He feels— no, hears from the sorrowful chants of the Force. You were fading like mist— your pulse lowers.. thump.. thump… Your own heartbeat trickles out as if your own life force was nothing but dew in the aftermath of rain, the beginning of the end of a storm. 

It was getting slower, quieter— it was terrifying. Different from what he has heard in this fight— It was one that seemingly has him sweat to the point he would feel fear. It was organic, evidence that a real fragment of a soul- a life, was slipping from his hands— and he did not know what to do. 

His master would know— Not Pogo, Not even Reginald who he despised from the Order— but her. She knew what to do, she taught him, before sending him to the Jedi to foil their pathetic teachings. To let the galaxy know that they were nothing but witches who love deceit. 

The Handler has known many things, after all- she has once prophesized an inevitable doom carries itself all over the wasteland. He felt a shiver from his spine, and it wasn’t from the sheer temperatures. His mind could wrap only on apprehension. Palms were sweating, and he was sure his stomach was feeling sick. 

He only sees what will be the only remains of the galaxy. Nothing but the remnants of havoc. Despair has taken out its sickle and planted death across the soil, sinking unto the roots of life, killing the undeserving. But that is how the cycle is, one fails so another could prosper. And those who remain- undiminished- will wilt, like autumn had just passed. 

Stars- he didn’t want to remember- not here, not again— he would rather be elsewhere than come back to this dizzying remnants of that pathetic rock, into that terror that still plague his days. He wished he could burn his eyes off- to never see these, but his mind would not resist in torturing him.

Because the only thing Five can see is the tomorrow his master had prophesied. And even if he would burn his own eyes off, that will be the only thing he’ll be able to remember under his own eyelids. 

He did not want to taint you with the same things she has done to him. The vileness of the Dark Side tortured him, made him bleed and has consumed his entire being that each time he tries to focus on using the Light Side to appease Pogo- he is never sure if he managed to mask the evil from him. 

He jogs his mind— Not letting panic fully settle in his mind— and cave in rather than logic- than coherence. His hand subconsciously reaches out, and he lets in the dark. 

He is a seed that lives on in this barren dirt. One that sprouted unto a wooden tool; unearthing what could be saved- the weeds that are believed to have dried off, yet are still flourishing; he preserves the things that persist. In that case, it would be resources, plants unaffected by radiation, little rodents, any source of life, he will take it to safety. That is his mission, not from his master nor the order that he wishes he could detest but he just can’t.

He has to help you— save you. Because, what is the point of his power? If he cannot use it for his gain? 

He is again a boy chained to the ideals that were never his- that were injected deep into his mind to harness the deep desires of his master, and those before him. Channeling his anger, his fury— he then heals. 

Watching your flesh stitch itself back together, your breathing stronger than before, and your heart- thank the Force- was beating quicker— 

You were alive, breathing and beating as one, that is all that mattered to him. Your eyes drooped from exhaustion, but he did not mind, you do not need to see his eyes change color from the green you know. 

And as he steadies your resting form by the side, he turns on his back. 

He does not hear multiple pulses, ones that seemingly shakes his mind to the point he would feel guilt once his saber goes through their skin.

He only hears metal wiring, gears clunking unto each other, orders played out all over again in their databases, and the hissing of buffers that gives life to these things— to have each and every one of these disposable fighters be programmed to fight a war it does not know it was born for. 

He spins his scalding blue lightsaber in his gloved hand, readying himself. Lips pursed as his mouth dries- the terrors that sinks into his skin, it is what creeps into his consciousness every moment. 

His pupils- once was verdant— now have grown tired, horrified, it became a sickly yellow, flames- fury tormented his soul, and what used to show his kindness, his true self, has now been clouded with the wrath he has been trained to use against others.

The impact of his blade rang unto the metal plate of the Commission droids. His breath hitches excitedly, an almost surprised grin plastered on his face. 

An electric buzz hummed through the wind, His plasma saber as his source of light- he only sees the material shine of the humanoid creations, his hand raises up high, locked into a fist as he shoves them all to the side, watching them break into little pieces, all sliding off like wet paint splattered onto a canvas. His saber cuts through each of their parts— screws and wires scrunched and charred fall to the dirty ground. 

BZZT! WZZT! The droids cry out— but he feels no sympathy, he does not speak, nor does he try to overthink. You will be fine now, he thinks, you won’t know. Because if you did, he would not know what to do. 

But he sees what you would do. What you would say. It rushes through him like acid on metal, and it sickens him so. 

“I never thought that I..” You would only let other words fill your throat. “.. I would see you become the very thing we, no— I swore to destroy.” 

He forcefully takes him out of his delusion- focusing on the sound of your heart again. It was so calm and collected- and it tried to give him peace. 

But peace is not enough to simmer the madness, after all, Five was no Jedi. 

He feels it swell deep into the remnants of his heart from his own thoughts. The same madness his master told him to hide in order to slip in through the blind eyes of the people. 

He now merely tunes out the singing— the crying of these automatons— the liveliness of the dark Force that rushes through his veins like some sort of bacta salve- and he is greeted with cold, metallic silence as wires burn around him. 

[fandom-imagines-stories]

There With You

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Words: 2532

Summary: A panic attack during the Victor’s tour leaves the reader gasping for breath backstage. Her fiance is able to calm her down, but now she’s afraid that what’s real and what’s pretend will blur together.

Notes: This is another kind of comfort fic based on my own experience, so I hope someone out there can connect with it. I love reading things to help calm myself down, so I hope that my comfort imagines can do that for somebody else. Plus Peeta is one of my comfort characters, so it works out. (Also, the reader has taken Katniss’ place in this scenario. Still love Katniss, but this fit the story)

Warnings: Panic attack, anxiety, the like (This is not a depiction of every kind of panic attack. This is just what I have experienced in the past)

-

None of this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t supposed to be two of you. There weren't supposed to be riots. The romance wasn’t supposed to be real.

Then why was he the only one keeping you from sprinting off that stage?

Peeta’s fingers were intertwined with yours as he spoke to the crowd, keeping you grounded. You tried to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the hundreds of eyes staring up at you. You looked up at the screens and saw her looking back at you. Her. The first person you’d ever killed and you couldn’t even bring yourself to think of her name.

Your breathing hitched and you could feel the squeezing, twisting grip around your throat. No no no not now. Not in front of the entire crowd. What would President Snow do to you if you broke down in front of an entire district? What would he do to Peeta?

“Thank you.” Peeta finished up his speech and a few people in the crowd reluctantly applauded. His eyes locked on your face, seeing a single tear fall down your cheek and he quickly led you off the stage.

He knew that District 9 would be the hardest for you. He still remembered the knife and the blood and the gore. You had killed her to save him. And now you had to live with that for the rest of your life.

The doors closed behind you and you immediately fell back against them, clutching your chest with your free hand. You ripped open the buttons on your high-necked dress, foolishly thinking that it would make it easier to breathe. The invisible hand had closed around your throat, knees crushing down your chest. When you closed your eyes, Clove was on top of you, choking the life out of you slowly, whispering all of the ways she was going to torment Peeta once you were gone.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Haymitch said, his expression a mix of worry and unease. He knew the image of a weak Victor would mean more problems that you weren’t ready to deal with. He remembered what it was like to be under the eye of the Capitol.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Peeta, I can’t keep-” You gasped in between shaky breaths. Your vision was blurred at the sides and you were gripping the door to keep from collapsing. “I-I-”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk now.” Peeta said, putting a hand on your cheek. “Can you walk to the train?” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to bring your hands away from the door. Peeta looked back at Haymitch and Effie for a moment before turning back to you. “I’m going to carry you, okay?” You must have nodded because he kissed your cheek before scooping you up in his arms.

Your hands released the door and instead latched onto the lapel of his jacket. Every part of you was shaking and the weight on your chest was only getting heavier.

“P-Peeta.” You cried, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ve got you. We’re almost there.” He tried to hide the crack in his voice, trying to be the strong one for you, but seeing you like this split his heart in half. Haymitch and Effie huddled around you, trying to block the two of you from any prying eyes or cameras.

You didn’t notice when they finally got you onto the train. In your head, you were still on that stage, staring out at the little brothers of the girl you murdered. You thought for sure you were suffocating. Every breath was becoming harder and more painful than the last and the blackness at the edge of your vision was growing.

Peeta sat down, holding you in his lap and gently stroking his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You aren’t in the arena. You’re here with me.” He buried his face in your neck, gently pressing a kiss to the place between your shoulder and your spine. “You’re with me.”

“I’ll never leave that arena.” You whispered, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

This was far from the first attack you’d had since winning the games, but it was certainly the worst.

Haymitch and Effie just watched you with sympathetic eyes for a moment before leaving the two of you alone. Peeta held you tight until your breathing started to return to a steady pace. While your vision cleared, your body couldn't stop shaking and you couldn’t seem to pry your hands away from his jacket.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, trying to wipe panicked tears away on your sleeve.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have made you go out there with me. I knew what it was going to be like for you and I should have-”

“They wouldn’t have let you go out there alone.” You shook your head. “There’s no hiding from them, Peeta.” You repeated your words like an echo, over and over again. “I’ll never leave that arena.”

“Then I’m right there with you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and stood up, keeping you pressed against his chest. “Come on, we should try and get some sleep before we reach the next District.”

He carried you to your compartment and tucked you under the covers. He crawled up beside you without you having to ask. It had become an unsaid thing between the two of you. You kept the nightmares away as best as you could and when one of you woke up afraid, you weren’t alone.

-

Peeta had proposed for the cameras the day you left for the Victor’s tour, but it was all for show. The Capitol ate it up. When you really said yes, it was a week prior, just the two of you in the calming quiet in a meadow outside of the fence. It meant more that way.

Of course, Effie had picked out an extravagant ring for you to wear on stage and everything. It was gaudy and heavy and enough jewels to feed three districts for a month. But like the faked proposal, it wasn’t what was real.

You twisted the small bronze band around your finger, examining it in the faint light coming through the train windows. You had been awake for about an hour now, but Peeta’s peaceful sleep kept you from stirring. You rested in the warmth of his embrace and listened carefully to the slow, comforting sound of his heart beat.

You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Rise and shine you two.” Effie burst through the door and Peeta instantly went rigid beneath you, jolting up and pushing you behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but his expression frightened Effie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I-”

“No, Effie, it’s okay. Really.” He said apologetically, his expression softening. “We’ll be out for breakfast in a second.”

“Alright. Don’t be long. I know they want to do a feature on engaged life. A little romance might be just what you two need.” She gave you both a small smile before walking out, the door sliding shut behind her. Peeta laid back on his elbows, blowing out a low sigh.

“I didn’t mean to scare her. I just heard the door open and all I could think was that someone was here to take you away.” He pulled you back down to him and gently pressed his lips to yours. Truthfully, he’d been in the middle of a nightmare when he heard Effie enter. He thought that the images in his head were becoming real.

“She’ll be okay.” You concluded, drawing circles on his chest . “Effie is tougher than she seems. And she knows what we’ve been through.” Despite her bright and sometimes obnoxiously optimistic attitude, you knew that Effie wasn’t a mindless pawn from the Capitol. She saw what the games did to you. She saw the children behind the victors.

Breakfast was mostly had in a settled quiet. While neither of you said anything, Haymitch glanced over at you and you nodded to let him know that you were okay. It was that silent understanding that was the foundation of your relationship with your former mentor.

“They’re doing an update interview to see how the Capitol’s darling lovebirds have been enjoying their tour.” Haymitch said gruffly. “Which means lots of blushing and doe-eyes from you two.”

“That won’t be hard.” Peeta noted, looking over at you. He meant it sweetly, but something about it sent a shiver of dread down your spine. You ignored it, giving him a small smile.

“It’s comforting to know we won’t need to convince anybody of the whole hopeless romantic thing.” Haymitch made a face. “You two do a wonderful job of making me nauseous all on your own.” Effie smacked him with her rolled up napkin.

“I think it’s wonderful.” She mused dreamily. “How something like that could bring you together.”

You stiffened, keeping your eyes on your plate, pushing your eggs around mindlessly with your fork. Sometimes you forgot that this was still all a TV show for people to gawk at. You would be the star crossed lovers from District 12 for the rest of your lives. No amount of real emotion you felt for Peeta was going to erase that.

The other three seemed to notice your shift and finished their meal in silence. Haymitch excused himself to the dining car for likely the rest of the day and Effie left to work on the speeches you’d have to read in front of District 8. You hadn’t eaten a bite, opting to sip slowly at your coffee instead.

“Just a few more days and we’ll get to go home.” Peeta said, noticing your empty stare and untouched meal. You just nodded, not really hearing him.

-

“So tell us, Peeta, when did you know that you wanted to propose?” Caesar grinned into the camera.

“Honestly, I knew the moment we stepped out of the arena that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” Peeta gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you with complete and utter adoration. Caesar gasped in awe, eating up the fluffy romance that Peeta was perfect at portraying.

Is that all this is? The thought penetrated your mind before you could stop it. A performance? Is everything he says for the sake of the camera?

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive you for not including me in the moment, Peeta.” Caesar pouted. “But it was just so sweet I can’t stay mad at you!” The two laughed and you forced a loving smile. “Really, proposing in front of the bakery just before you left for the tour- why, it’s probably the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”

“I’m glad it came off that way, because I was a nervous wreck!” Peeta exclaimed and they laughed again. You had to admire his acting ability. Maybe that’s what scared you so much.

He’s just performing. Is he performing with you?

“I think we all want to know,” Caesar beamed, turning his attention to you, “what was going through your head, Y/N? When Peeta got down on one knee?”

You pushed any doubt from your head and just focused on everything you knew was real. “Honestly, Caesar, I can’t think of a happier moment in my life. I never knew what I was missing until we found each other.”

“Don’t these two just make you believe in love, Claudius?” He gushed to his costar. “We’ll let the two of you get back to your tour, but I can’t say how excited we are to have you all to ourselves here in the Capitol.”

“We can’t wait.” Peeta grinned. You both smiled broadly, waiting for the little red recording light to turn off. As soon as the cameras were gone, Peeta lifted your hand up to his lips. “That went well.” He muttered against the skin of your palm.

“Yeah. I think they definitely believe that we’re the perfect couple.” You hadn’t meant to say it so bitterly, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Peeta’s expression changed.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes were different, the charisma that was there with Caesar was gone. His worry seemed to stem from something real, but you just couldn’t convince yourself that it was.

“Nothing.” None of this is real. It’s all just the games. What if you’re still in the arena? What if this is all in your head? You broke away from him, trying to hide the panic growing and growing inside you until it was all you could feel. You could hear him saying your name, but it sounded garbled and far away, like he was whispering in the rain.

What seized you now was unlike you’d ever felt before. Not only was it the dark panic that blurred your vision and tightened your throat until you couldn’t breathe- it was a complete disconnect from reality. It was like you were trapped inside one of their screens and you were banging on the glass, trying to get out.

-

You didn’t realize you had fainted until you woke up in Peeta’s arms. His was sitting up, cradling you in his lap like he had before, only now you were in your room and you had a blanket draped around your shoulders. You jerked away, your mind still terrified that even this wasn’t real.

“Woah, hey it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” You whispered in a panic, still trying to push away from him. This was the Capitol. They were in your head. “You aren’t real.” As hard as you shoved against him, his strong arms were locked around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you closer.

“I’m right here. I’m real. Just breathe. Come on, stay with me.” While his voice was soothing, your vision was still blurred with hot tears.

“We can never escape this. Every second of our lives belongs to them. Nothing is real. It’s all theirs.”

Peeta pulled away, taking your hand in his. He slid the bronze ring off your finger and held it up.

“This is ours. It’s not Snow’s, it’s not the Capitol’s, it’s ours. It’s real and it’s ours.” He put the ring back on and moved your hand to his chest. You could feel his heart beating beneath your fingertips. “I’m real,” He looked at you with a gentle and yet intense love, “and I am completely yours.”

You wiped away your tears and laid a hand on his cheek. “Peeta-”

“And no matter the nightmare, no matter the fear, or when your mind takes you back to the games, just remember I will always be there with you.”

He pulled you back to him and the two of you remained- away from the cameras and away from the Capitol. At least for now, you weren’t victors. You were a boy and a girl who had saved each other.

[thefact0rygirl]

Look at it, look at it, look at it! I commissioned the talented and wonderful @maygalodon for a drawing of Wolffe and my OC, Cala, and omg I can’t stop staring at it. Thank you again, Mae! 🤍

I’ve had this for a while now about Wolffe’s life between Order 66 and Rebels. I feel that after leaving the Empire, he spends a couple years alone. Maybe even working as a mercenary to support himself. It’s then that he gets recruited for a major robbery and meets Cala, an expert counterfeiter and forger. The robbery they’re recruited for is ambitious, to say the least, and personal relationships are forbidden, something Cala and Wolffe have a hard time following. 

This is very much a work in progress, and I’m still going back and forth about their story, but I wanted to share Mae’s stunning artwork and little snippets about Cala and Wolffe. 

Rating: Mature (sexual tension, forbidden romance)

Pairing: Wolffe x OFC (Cala) 

Word Count: 1k 

Wolffe wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but it was definitely something at first sight. And maybe it was, maybe he did fall for Cala when he first saw her lounging on the storage crate. Because despite everything the clone commander had been through, he was intimidated by Cala and her sly smile. She barely gave him a glance as he walked by, finding the furthest corner of the hanger to sit but the way she glanced at him, the way her lips pulled upwards... it was as if she knew the effect she had on him.

He doesn’t bother uncrossing his arms, doesn’t bother erasing the scowl on his face as the briefing begins and each recruit introduces themselves. He’s a clone, there are three million replicas of him walking around the galaxy. Most without a cybernetic eye and a fucked up face. Women like Cala don’t pay attention to men like him, pay attention to clones, but then at one point she turns around and winks at him. 

It’s all over from there. 

———

In total, there were five recruits for the robbery. No one knows the other’s backstories or even their full names, but it’s obvious the others spent their lives either doing something illegal. It’s a transparent thread connecting them together, a sort of unspoken truth. 

It connects everyone except Wolffe. 

Personal questions aren’t allowed, but Wolffe’s life story is written on his face. He’s a clone. He served in the Grand Army of the Republic as a commander. Some things don’t need to be said, some things people just know. 

The others don’t trust him, and fairly so. He wouldn’t trust him either if he was in their shoes. Despite the Jedi branded as traitors, Wolffe still turned against his general. Shit like that doesn’t sit well with the wretched. But it still makes his skin crawl when he feels their accusing looks on him more and more as the days pass. Hesitance and distrust sprinkled in with Cala’s mischievous ways. It’s unsettling at times, but he needs this. Rex and Gregor need this. The pay out is too big and there is too much is on the line to cut and run because some criminals don’t like you. So Wolffe tries to keep his head low and not give them any more reasons to doubt him.

“Is it true the clones killed their own generals?”

Nico is the one to ask. Another recruit, young and brash and the very definition of a hot head. Wolffe was still trying to figure out why the fuck he was brought on when Nico asked him during dinner. 

“Yeah.”

“Kind of fucked up.”

...No shit, di’kut. That’s what Wolffe wants to respond, but he bites his tongue. He swirls around the mush of food on his plate as he chooses his next words carefully. He didn’t want to feed into the group’s doubt of him, but Rex warned him not to talk about the inhibitor chips. “We couldn’t help it. We were being...controlled.”

“But you’re not now?”

Before Nico can puff out his chest, Cala places a light slap on the back of his head. “Dumbass. He’s one of us now. He wouldn’t turn against his own.” 

She said it with so much conviction Wolffe even believes her. Wolffe doesn’t say anything after that, shoveling a bite of food in his mouth. Mid-chew, he feels Cala lean over and whisper in his ear, “You wouldn’t turn me in. Right, Wolffe?”

If it wasn’t for his hair, Cala would be eye-level with his scar. The warmth of her breath against his cheek has him struggling with a response. But as quick as she was there, she pulls back, falling back into conversation as if nothing happened. 

———

Two nights later, Cala is in Wolffe’s room, falling down onto his bed with a loud protest from his lumpy mattress. 

He can’t remember who started talking first, but soon they’re up talking about nothing and everything. His answers come naturally, something he is quite proud of, taking into account they’ve only spoken three sentences to each other on a normal day. He’s doing good, it’s almost as if he doesn’t have a crush. 

Until Cala shimmies herself under his blanket. 

“I’m cold. Can I lie down with you?”

Wolffe wants to tell her maybe she should put some clothes on, but he can feel Sinker slapping him upside the head for the thought. She’s here, next to him, and so fucking close she has to press herself into his side. “You don’t seem cold,” He muses. Cala is literally radiating heat next to him.

“Trust me, I am,” Slinging an arm around his chest, she readjusts herself so her head is tilted towards his. Wolffe knows what is going to happen next.

“I like you,” Wolffe says since it only seems fair to let her know, to give her the chance to run. 

Instead he gets another laugh. “I know. I can feel your eyes on me, Wolffe.”

“Sorry,” It’s sheepish and gruff, but he means it. He really does. He knows how it feels to have people staring at you, their eyes burning into your head with as much intensity as a lightsaber demolishing your eye.

“Don’t be, I like it.” Suddenly, her fingers are tracing imaginary shapes into his arm before trailing down to the front of his chest. “I like you too.” She pinches his nipple ever so slightly. “Is this okay?”

He moans, “Yes.”

“Good,” Cala gives him another mischievous smile before kissing him.

———

“What about the rules?” Wolffe asks when Cala comes back the next night. She fumbles with his sweatpants, her mouth leaving tiny bites along his neck. 

“This isn’t a relationship, it’s just sex.”

[bcdwhcre]

“Territory,” Levi x Reader

Summary: Levi overhears the cadets confessing their feelings for you so he decides to show them that you’re his.

Warnings: ⚠️ smut zoneeee ⚠️

Levi x Fem!Reader

This was requested btwwww

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It was the weekend, meaning the scouts were off of work until another expedition comes along so you had decided to stay inside the kitchen, teaching yourself how to bake simple desserts like cookies or brownies to occupy your mind.

The hobby had suited you, made you forget about the overbearing stress you would deal with during the week of training or going outside the walls which was always a overwhelming time.

Most of the guys sat inside the mess hall, sitting down and playing random games while talking to each other about probably the most random stuff, anything that came to their mind.

You had walked out of the kitchen, being nice enough to set the cookies down on the table to have them do a taste test for you, considering Levi probably wouldn’t.

“I hope this recipe turned out a little better than the last.” You laughed at the memory of last week trying to bake and the boys cringed at how hard it was to chew.

Eren was the first one to quickly reach over and eat it before the rest of them followed, their eyes lighting up and all of them looking up at you in awe.

“These are so much better.” Eren hummed to himself, grabbing another one and you rolled your eyes, keeping the plate there.

“Thank you for being my taste testers. I’ll give you some brownies later.” You smiled, turning back and going inside the kitchen to somewhat clean up the mess you made.

After you left, the boys all looked at each other while eating the cookies. They stayed quiet until you were gone out of sight and Jean was the first one to speak up about his big crush on you.

“I doubt you’ll have a chance, Jean. She’ll probably be better off with someone like me.” Eren was being cocky, nudging Jean’s side with his elbow and he gave him a dirty look.

“I don’t think she would want a Titan shifter.” He scoffed under his breath and Eren had shoved his friend playfully.

“Do we all have a crush on her?” Armin spoke, his cheeks turning a light shade of red and everyone looked at each other.

All of them nodded their heads then quickly went into a discussion on who you would like better, who you would have a better chance being with but little did they know you had a secret little fling going on with your Captain behind closed doors. The secret being Levi’s idea because he didn’t want to cause any issues.

Levi had actually heard the argument from down the hall as he walked down to go do some work but once he heard your name get brought up, he froze in his spot, listening to the boys argue about their crush on you and continue talking about which guy had a better chance.

A sense of jealousy had washed over him, hearing them all talk about you without you being there also made him a bit angry. He finally got sick of listening to them bicker and walked into the room, all boys freezing and looking at Levi’s cold stare.

“All of you, outside. I don’t want to see you back in here until I say you’re done training.” He ordered them, watching them all scatter without a second thought and rush outside.

He moved his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose and looked down at the plate of cookies that he knew you made. He decided to move his feet towards the kitchen, opening the door up and seeing you near the sink.

“When you’re done, can you come to my office.” He asked, making you turn to meet his gaze and you simply nodded.

“For what?” You turned off the sink, drying off your hands and walked to where he stood by the door.

“Just need some help with something.” He mumbled, tilting your chin up and stared down at you, a evil little plan popping right inside his head as he tried to hide the smirk.

Your stomach had twisted into knots at how serious he looked, you couldn’t help but overthink about what he needed help with as you followed close behind him down the hallway until you both entered his office.

He closed the door behind you, being swift with locking it and went over to the window to see the guys outside training like he wanted them too, hearing their whines and complaints about doing so.

“What is it? Should I be worried?” You spoke first as he stayed silent, your body standing right behind his and placed your hand on his bicep.

“I missed you is all.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, his eyes moving down to meet yours and he lifted his hand up to caress your cheek, the soft contact made you melt right under his finger tips instantly.

“That’s all?” You teased, watching a small smile come across his lips and he shook his head.

“I don’t think you understand, I really missed you.” He said in a much lower tone, his hand sliding back to tangle in your hair and pulled your face closer to his.

Levi’s lips just barely brushed over yours, the dots now connecting in your head and you knew what he wanted and it made your heart pound inside your chest, you were sure he could hear how loud it was.

You were the one to close the gap, pressing your lips on his and he instantly backed you up until you were sitting on the edge of his desk, settling between your legs while his lips molded with yours.

The guys making noises outside the window had completely slipped your mind, it’s not like they could see you through the curtains and the thought of having to be more quiet than usual made you even more excited.

Levi had tugged on your hair, slipping his tongue in your mouth all while thinking about the small plan that had popped inside his head. He didn’t want to really out the secret hook ups you two were having the last few months but the way they had talked about you like you were a piece of meat, he was positive he wanted to show them who really owns you.

He wanted them to hear you moan his name and show them who really makes you feel good at the end of the day. Fuck the secrets, fuck everything. He’s just being the overpossesive jealous boyfriend that will make sure people know you’re off the market.

He wasn’t going to take it easy on you, of course he was going to pleasure you but he was going to make sure to over pleasure you to the point where your sounds will echo throughout this whole base. He was sure of it.

His hands had slipped down to your shirt, unbuttoning the plain white top and pushing it off your shoulders, throwing it to the ground while latching his teeth onto your bottom lip, pulling it back and letting it go as his eyes met yours.

He started to plant kisses down to your chest, his eyes burning into yours while his large hands slipped around and unclipped the bra you were wearing, watching it slide down your arms and onto the floor beneath your feet.

The butterflies swarming your stomach made you almost want to pass out, the way his eyes stared into yours, the intense yet satisfying eye contact he kept while his lips peppered kisses on your bare skin.

Soon he grew impatient with the tint underneath his tight pants only getting bigger as the material got tighter. He groaned, the sight of you instantly turned him on more than you could know and that was his weakness- he couldn’t control himself when he was around you.

He was addicted, he couldn’t get enough as he quickly tore off the rest of your clothing including his and his lips were back on yours in a much more heated kiss, not hesitating to slip his hand up between your legs, brushing his fingertips along your thigh, practically dancing on your skin before he had dipped his fingers to collect the wetness that pooled between your legs.

He knew he had a strong effect on you, it was proven every time he touched you and your cheeks started to grow hot while his fingertips slipped and rubbed between your folds, a soft hum leaving your lips and being muffled against his mouth which only caused him to further his actions.

A finger slid inside of you painfully slow, feeling the warmth and brushing it against your walls that almost made your back arch as your hand reached down to grip onto his wrist, feeling his smirk against your lips as his tongue swirled inside your mouth, the patience he had today to make you unravel multiple times, he wanted you completely weak.

A second finger slid in, continuing his slow pace and hearing the whine linger off your tongue made him pull back to keep his eyes on you, his hair hanging over his face and the smirk never leaving as his tongue ran over his lips, almost mesmerized over you.

“Don’t hold back, I want to hear those pretty moans.” His free hand grabbed a hold of your chin, brushing his thumb along your jawline and started to move his fingers at a much better pace.

It had made your toes curl, your fingernails digging into his wrist and your lips parting open at the pleasure as you let a soft moan slip out of your mouth, your surroundings being thrown out of your brain as the only thing you saw was Levi over you.

He could hear the cadets outside, the evil smile on his face only getting wider as he kept finger fucking you into oblivion, his fingers working wonders between your legs to the point where your head had fell back and multiple profanities had left your lips, making him instantly pepper kisses on your throat.

All you saw was stars as your vision began to blur, the knot building up in the pit of your stomach had made your legs tremble and deep inside your head you had felt embarassed at how fast his fingers could make you cum all over them, he knew your body from head to toe and what could destroy you and make you unravel in minutes.

The entire encounter had lasted for almost an hour, the way Levi had made you cum around his fingers and then around his length while he was deep inside of you.

The boys stood outside, training until they had heard muffling noises near the window. Eren didn’t want to be nosey considering they knew that was Levi’s office window but soon your moans had became loud enough for all of the color to drain from their faces.

The way you continuously moaned Levi’s name, the way he had you almost screaming while on the brick of an orgasm, they grew quiet, their cheeks flushing deep red and that’s when they knew to stop speaking about you.

They knew better to get involved with you or even continue their desperate crush, they knew that they didn’t stand a chance now. You were Levi’s and it was as clear as day.

The embarrassment and the humiliation had spilled over their minds for a long time after that. Now when they look at your face or talk to you, all they can remember is the endless sounds of you saying Levi’s name.

It was traumatizing almost. Not even bothering to look their Captain in the eyes for the first few days, feeling as if they even looked your way that they would be outside doing exercises until their collapse.

Levi had chuckled at the reactions, it was exactly what he wanted. He wanted their eyes to stare at the love bites he left on your neck, he wanted to remember your voice saying his name, it made his ego that much more bigger.

Now he knew they learned their lesson when it comes to what’s his.

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I didn’t really want to go into farrrrr detail with smut. I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging bc idk how much I’ll be able to post over the weekend🤧 quite a busy weekend for meeee.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[alwaysmarveling]

Balloons

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Warnings: cursing, arguing, and Clint (since he seems to be a sensitive topic for some of you)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Natasha surprises you with balloons. What do you get for her in return?

A/N: It can get a little confusing, so just for clarification, a single dash (-) indicates a flashback, and three dashes (---) means a skip forward in time. Also, this takes place during the Snap.

“Hey, I’ll be back in a couple of days, okay?” Natasha barely looked up from her computer screen, but she heard your murmurs, going so far as to lean into your touch as you pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

If you didn’t love her, you would’ve scrunched your nose, judged her for what must’ve been days without taking a shower. Instead, your brow furrowed slightly as you leaned over her, allowing your arms to drape over her torso, your hands clasping together at the center of her chest.

“Take care of yourself, okay? No more peanut butter sandwiches.” That elicited a groan from your wife. Her eyes remained on the monitor in front of her, but she still sunk into your embrace, her body almost on autopilot once she felt the familiar contact. “Promise me, Nat. I’ve left enough meals for the next two weeks in the fridge. All you have to do is microwave them.” A low sound left her mouth—maybe it was an “okay” or an “alright,” you really couldn’t tell—but you knew that was all you were getting from her at the moment. So, with a sigh, you brushed a quick kiss to her cheek and pushed yourself to stand straight.

“I love you, Nat.” It was only then that she turned around, finally allowing you to see the sparkle in her eyes that, more so now than ever, she reserved only for you.

“I love you too, malysh. Be safe. And call me if you need anything.”

“So you’re saying I can call and ask for you?” The redhead chuckled, leaning out of her chair to grab you by the hands. Once you were standing in between her legs, one of her hands trailed up to your cheek before pulling you down to kiss her.

“Anytime, malyshka, anytime,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, yeah?” Natasha nodded at you. The last thing you saw as you walked out the door was her characteristic smirk, the sly wave of her slender fingers, and the way her body was slumped against the chair, another sign that betrayed just how long she had gone without sleep. You had to succeed at this, for her.

---

It was pouring when you found him. You don’t think you would’ve seen him if it weren’t for the neon signs, their reflections against the growing number of puddles lighting up the street. But you didn’t need to see him to find him; the yelling and clashing of swords were enough to tell you where he was.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was gruff. It was clear he didn’t want to see you.

“I’m here to bring someone back.” He had yet to turn around, and yet you could still hear him scoff despite his turned back and the patter of rain.

“Then keep looking.” You rolled your eyes before clearing your throat and straightening up. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to see your growing assertion, but you’d make sure he heard it.

“I’m here to bring you back.”

“Don’t you have a wife to be getting back to?” You almost flinched at his words.

“How funny, I wasn’t sure if you even knew we got married.” Yes, Clint was your friend, but you didn’t forget the way Nat’s eyes shined with hurt when she looked in the crowd at her wedding and noticed that her best friend wasn’t there. It was just another thing that made her doubt what she was doing, wonder if she was a monster for moving on while everyone else suffered. You almost lost her that day, having to get Steve to pause the ceremony as you took her off to the side, desperate to make her stay.

-

“Nat, every day I wake up I think of all the people that we lost, just like that. But you’re still here, and I can’t lose you too. And if wanting to hold onto the one good thing I have left in the world makes me a monster, then-” She had pulled you close, kissed you through the tears that ran down her cheeks.

“You could never be a monster, my love.” Your foreheads pressed together as she whispered, allowing you to see the crystal droplets, physical evidence of the internal struggle she felt every day.

“And neither can you. Marry me?” She simply nodded, and you thought you couldn’t have been happier, more relieved.

But she proved you wrong only minutes later when she read her vows out to you, her eyes only leaving the crumpled paper to look at you, to make sure you were still there, as she tried to make her true feelings known. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper—you were sure you were the only one who could hear her, but that was more than okay with you—as she told you, “You told me I’m the only good thing you have left in the world, but you are my world. If I lose you, I’ve lost the world. It doesn’t matter how many other planets there are, how many galaxies exist outside of our own. There’s nothing after you.”

You pulled her into a searing kiss, not caring that Steve had yet to tell you to kiss your bride.

You were married. You were hers, and she was yours.

-

And he missed it. Clint missed one of the most important days in his best friend’s life. He still hadn’t responded when you spoke up again. You were bringing him back no matter what. Because she needed you to.

You got him to come back with you. You honestly weren’t too sure how you’d done it; maybe he was just too tired to argue anymore. But it didn’t matter because the two of you were getting in a Quinjet and going back to Natasha.

It took less than twenty minutes for you guys to be off in the air. You set the aircraft on autopilot and left the seat, heading back to put away your things.

“I will admit, I thought we’d be moving a little faster.” Your head cocked to the side at Clint’s words, not quite understanding what he meant.

“Trust me, we’re going as fast as we can. We should be there in a couple of hours.” You were almost out of earshot when he spoke again, but his words caught your attention as if he had screamed them at you.

“What’d you get her for the anniversary?”

“Wha- what do you mean? What’s today’s date?” And as Clint sighed with a shake of his head, you felt your heart sinking in your chest. He didn’t need to answer. You thought back to yesterday’s phone call and you knew exactly where you’d messed up.

-

“Hello? Nat? What are you doing awake? It’s late, you should be asleep.” There was a pause over the phone, and at first, you thought she’d hung up.

“I, um, I just wanted to check in on you.” It wasn’t so much the fact that she called or her words as it was her dejected tone that grabbed your attention, immediately made you concerned.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Do you need me to come back?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she quickly reassured you. “Just… you sure you’re not forgetting anything?” You scanned the supplies you’d laid out on the dresser. A weapon or two, a couple of toiletries, only the necessities. But nothing was missing.

“No, I think I have everything. Why? Did you see something at home?” Another pause. And, still, you chalked it up to bad connection, or maybe the fact that it was late for her, she must’ve been tired.

“No, you didn’t leave anything at home.” You took one last glance at your things before nodding and launching into your plan for how you were going to get Clint back. She wasn’t as excited as you thought she would’ve been, but you never caught it. Even when you ended the call and all she gave you was a quiet goodbye, you never caught it.

-

You entered the compound with a crash, scrambling to find Natasha. It was nighttime when you got back, the lights automatically turning on one by one as you ran through each of the rooms, each of them full of furniture but devoid of life.

First, you reached the kitchen. Natasha hadn’t put away the candles, the wicks drowning in wax as if nobody had bothered to blow them out. One plate of food—which was much fancier than any of the meals you had left for Nat in the fridge—lay untouched on the counter, and you knew that, if you dared to open the fridge, there’d be another plate waiting for you.

Next, you made your way into the living room. A vase of roses sat on the coffee table, but one of them was already wilted, a petal threatening to fall off if you so much as looked at it for too long. A small bunch of heart balloons hovered in the corner. The shadows fell on them in just the right way it seemed, with them looking more like they were threatening to chase after you rather than welcome you home.

You went to your bedroom next. You doubted she would’ve been in there, but some small part of you hoped that you and Clint were wrong; you hadn’t actually missed anything, and Natasha somehow pulled herself away from her work to grab a few hours of sleep. But it wasn’t your wife on the bed. Instead, an unfamiliar yet friendly-looking teddy bear sat on the comforter, the card next to it standing upright. And though every part of you yelled at you not to open it, you did.

It was storebought, but that wasn’t what affected you. What finally broke the dam, made the tears stream down your cheeks, was the brief message she’d written on the inside.

“I know I haven’t been the best wife lately, but you are still my world. The sun, moon, stars, it’s all you, malyshka. It always will be. Happy anniversary.”

It was only then that you set off for the one place you were sure Natasha would be.

---

The smell hit you before you even entered her office. Then, you heard the somewhat incoherent grumbles, each word charged with more anger and sorrow than the last. And so it was more to your horror than surprise when you found her still at her desk, her head in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

“Natty…” A flash of red filled your vision as her head whipped up to see you, but you weren’t sure if the color came from her cheeks or her hair.

“Oh, so you still remember my name?”

“Natty, please, I’m so sorry. I was so hun-” At first, your wife seemed slightly surprised, as if she wasn’t expecting you to apologize. Or maybe she wasn’t expecting you to know what you were apologizing for.

“Don’t you dare call me that right now, Y/N.” If her order didn’t sting, her use of your actual name definitely did. But you pushed away those feelings; right now, it was about her, the way it should’ve been about her yesterday.

“Natasha, let me explain. I was so focused on Clint, on the things we had to get done here. The dates really meant nothing to me.” Her flinches were delayed, slightly sluggish, but they nevertheless hurt to see.

“So the date of our wedding means nothing to you? I got you balloons, Y/N, I got you fucking balloons.” You flinched, but it wasn’t at the sound of the vodka bottle slamming down on the desk or at her words. It was at the words she’d told you on your six month anniversary of dating, the day she’d surprised you with a dinner at a three Michelin star restaurant and a night in a five-star hotel, a luxury you’d never experienced before and never thought you’d have in your life, let alone while you were on the run from the US federal government. But, you’d had to remind yourself as Natasha pulled you into the hotel room with a giggle, this was the world’s best spy you were dating. Of course, if anyone was capable of pulling this off, it was her. 

-

“What are those?” you’d gasped, the glint of the dim lamplight on the mylar catching your attention.

“I got you balloons,” she’d chuckled as she pulled you into her embrace. “I love you so fucking much that I got you balloons. God, I’m such a sap.” You met her lips in a sweet kiss before pulling her closer, if that was even possible.

“You’re my sap.” Nat pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth, loving the way it curved upwards in a grin. Loving the fact that she made it do that.

“Well, duh, you think I’m going to go out and get balloons for Tony?” You simply giggled, the champagne the two of you had enjoyed earlier that evening only strengthening the joy that bubbled in you. “No. Never. Only for you, detka.” She had punctuated each sentence with a kiss, each one being on a different spot on your face.

“You got me balloons,” you finally whispered, meeting her eyes.

“I got you balloons,” the blonde agreed. You loved the way the green orbs captured your own gaze; you could bathe in the love they held for you.

-

But at this moment, you felt yourself drowning in the sorrow filling her eyes, the fact that she wasn’t crying being one piece of dignity you couldn’t maintain no matter how hard you tried.

“Nat,” you slowly stepped closer to her, your footsteps being the only sound filling the room during the pause. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant I barely processed what day it was at all. The only thing I was focusing on was getting Clint back.” A small part of you knew that Natasha was far too hurt and drunk to be reasoned with at the moment, but you still tried. And the rejection hurt just as much as if you hadn’t been expecting it.

“You don’t love me.” You were by her side in an instant, quick to refute her point.

“That’s not true at a-”

“You don’t love me! Just admit it, Y/N. You don’t love me.”

“Natasha, please-” Your vision was so clouded by tears you could barely make out your surroundings, but the anguish on your wife’s face was somehow clearer than it had been all night.

“You only love me when it benefits you! God, how was I so foolish to believe you could ever love me back in the same way I love you?” And though you tried to stop her, pleaded with her to just listen to you for a second, she never even hesitated for a second, the remaining vodka threatening to spill out out of the bottle with how she swung it in the air. Her insecurities from your relationship, the ones you had spent night after night reassuring her of, were coming out in full force, each word thrown out of her mouth being another punch to your gut.

But it was her last sentence that made you almost double over in pain; the way she looked at you, eyes glassy and her lower lip wobbling, the way she spoke, her voice airy and broken, the way her face was contorted, as if something had broken inside of her. Maybe something had.

“Did I really make you feel safe, or did I just help you not to feel alone?”

-

You knew she was standing outside of your room well before she knocked. Well, you knew someone was standing outside of your room.

Sure, you weren’t expecting the normally-closed off assassin to be the one who entered when you let out a measly “come in,” but you were too wrapped up in your grief to care.

“Wanda made dinner.”

“I don’t want it.” You didn’t have to turn your head to know how she was standing, feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over her chest. And maybe, if you cared, you would’ve been scared, but for all you were concerned she could come running full speed at you with widow’s bites in her hand and you wouldn’t even flinch. Maybe you’d welcome it.

“It’s not a negotiation. You’re coming to dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’m not hungry.” At first, Natasha didn’t respond. You thought you were safe. She’d turn around, close the door behind her, and you’d be alone once again, the way you should’ve been. The way you always should be. But instead, you heard her approaching footsteps and felt the mattress sink as she perched herself on the edge of your bed.

“You deserve to eat, Y/N. Just because you made a mistake-”

“A mistake is forgetting your phone at home, Nat. I got people killed. I deserve to die.” Natasha paused for a moment, and you felt the weight of her hand as she rested it on your ankle.

“You’re not the first of us to do that. Do you think we deserve to die too?” Anger and frustration swelled in your chest at her words. Of course they didn’t deserve to die; how could you agree to that? But she didn’t understand, you were different because you were you.

You hated the way she trapped you with simple logic, wanting to scream and yell for her to get out. But she was the woman of your dreams, so you stayed silent. She’d leave eventually. They all did. Or maybe you just made them leave, who knows?

But she was there 5 minutes later, 10 minutes later, 15. Half an hour passed and she was still sitting there, her posture just as perfect as when she first sat down.

Another half an hour passed before Natasha sighed, the corner of the mattress lifting. But she didn’t leave the room. Instead, she rounded the bed and sat down next to you, hands folded in her lap and her back against the headboard.

“You’re not going to leave?” you finally asked.

“No.”

“Why?” You hated the way it came out cracked and broken. You were the one who messed up; why were you also the one falling apart?

“Because you deserve to be forgiven. And you don’t deserve to be alone. I’ll stay until you realize that.” It amazed you how she said it so matter-of-factly, how she said it as if it was painfully obvious.

“Then it looks like you’re going to be staying the night.”

“Good thing I wore my pajamas.” It wasn’t until she said that that you finally turned around to look at her. Why was she wearing her pajamas?

“You knew I wasn’t coming out.”

“I had a feeling.” Her shrug was nonchalant, but the way she picked at her fingers suggested she was more nervous than she was trying to let on.

“Why are you here, Tasha?”

“Because I care,” was her answer, spoken softly yet firmly, as if she was challenging you to oppose her. But you let her.

You let her slide down, lay her arm over you. You let her lay a kiss on your forehead, hold you while you slept, fend off the screams of the departed so your dreams didn’t turn into nightmares. And just before you finally dozed off, getting the rest you’d been deprived of for days, you murmured something so quiet she could barely hear it. She’d never forget it.

“Ever since I joined the Avengers, I’m always waiting for someone to leave. Someone getting hurt, getting killed. They’ll leave one way or another and I won’t be able to get them back. I’m always on edge. But you make me feel safe, I think.”

-

“Tasha, you know that’s not true at all. Please,” you tried walking towards her again with one trembling hand outstretched, just to get her to put down the bottle, just to pull her into your arms as you tried to physically show her just how much you really did love her, just to do anything.

She backed away.

It hit you then; you weren’t going to get her back. Not now, at least. Nothing you could say, nothing you could do, could get her to listen to you at this moment.

“Just leave me alone,” she whispered, as if she could read your mind. You always thought the two of you were connected in some way. Maybe she could tell what you were thinking.

But it seemed the connection stopped there. She couldn’t understand how your feet were glued to the floor, how your heart stopped for the umpteenth time that hour, how your eyes scoured any and every part of her for want of some sign that things would be okay. She gave you nothing but a renewed hardening of her gaze, as if she had just remembered her days as one of the world’s most formidable assassins.

“Fine. I’ll leave.” And just like that, she was gone. It didn’t matter that she almost stumbled over the leg of a chair, or how you got an extra strong whiff of vodka as she passed by. What mattered was that she was gone.

---

Natasha got you balloons, filled you with joy and love as if you were a child at the center of attention during their birthday party. And you, distracted by all the other decorations that surrounded you, had let them go, the strings slipping out of your grip and floating to unreachable heights.

You had let her go.

-----

🏷 : @vancityfire13 @007giu

[africanotaku92]

Schrodinger's Boy

I missed Phan Phic Phight but now I'm here for Dannymay! Not really going along with the prompts, just wanted to write something for the month.

I dedicate this to @five-rivers because i love their stuff so much!

Please, enjoy!

***

Schrödinger’s Boy

It was dead when she saw it.

Oh so very dead, but walking. Talking. Living.

That really doesn’t make sense, so let’s start from the beginning;

Nelia Ugochi d’Bandinello was not a normal child. Ever since she was young, she could see death. And no, not like the walking skeleton clad in black robes and a scythe most people assume, but real death; the dead, the dying, the undead, all. No one, not even her closest family members knew, and she intended to keep it that way. As long as she kept to her own and didn’t cross the line for the rules, she was safe.

Ever since her family moved to this country, she knew the small, sleepy town was a little dead. The essence was in every nook and cranny, even the air had a thin yet distinctive layer of it. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

That is, until now.

The air’s death suddenly sharpened the moment before it walked in.

At first glance, it looked like a boy. A cute boy in fact. Short compared to her tall. Pale skin in contrast to her deep dark, straight black hair opposed to curly blond. Baby blue opposing forest green. But then, the closer she looked, the more she noticed what was off. Skin was a little too pale to be considered healthy, and became slightly transparent as she saw more. Hair was wispy and floaty, almost defying gravity, almost flowing like it was under water as its head bounced. Eyes a bit more, sunken, a bit more tired. Worst of all, its heartbeat sounded so, so slow.

And now, it was sitting two tables across from her.

She swallowed the milkshake that threatened to spill out of her mouth. She tried to turn back to her food, tried to ignore its presence. But she kept glancing its way, turning back to the most terrifying yet fascinating creature she had ever seen.

And she just. Kept. Staring.

One of its cohorts – the black one with glasses – pointed at her direction, and it suddenly looked over. Their eyes made contact. She gasped and looked away.

‘Such haunting eyes.’ She thought.

“Nelia? What’s wrong?” She looked up to see her brother Irnerio, who had previously been trying to unhinge his jaw to fit an absolutely massive burger, was now looking at her in concern.

“Nothing.” She forced out. She glanced back at them. Her brother’s concerned face was already contorting into a smug grin.

“Oh? Falling in love already?” He chuckled “It’s the pale boy, right?” Her cheeks heated. Definitely not what was happening.

“Shut up.”

“Well, you did say that one of the advantages of moving was ‘Date cute Americans’. Though I must say, I always thought that the goth girl would be more your type. You could both indulge in your weird fascination with death.”

She hit her brother in the ribs.

“Stolto*.” She hissed. “I said shut up.”

Her brother laughed.

***

“Dude, the new girl is totally checking you out.”

Danny swallowed his bite of a burger. “What?”

He, Sam and Tucker had gone to Nasty Burger for lunch that Saturday, and had noticed the two newest additions to the town residence. The girl had been looking at them ever since they walked in.

“She’s probably not into me. Probably looking at Sam. They look foreign, so for all we know, she may be their first goth.”

“An honour I am willing to have with pride.”

“She’s looking over here right now!”

Danny turned to where Tucker was pointing and sure enough, she was looking at them. They made eye contact, and hers widened and she looked away.

“See? Totally into you.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Tuck.” He continued eating his burger. But somehow, he couldn’t shake the stare off of him. As if she was looking past his flesh and staring at the very ghost that made his soul.

He shivered at the thought.

***

Oh God above, it went to her school.

The creepy thing goes to her school.

She wondered how it got into her school. She wondered why, of all things, it had to attend as a student.

Mondays where truly the worst days of the week.

She had learned the creatures name was Danny Fenton, official school weirdo, son of the two most successful ghost hunters (oh the irony), and all-round loser she shouldn’t interact with (according to the Mexican girl that approached her). She didn’t really care though, as much as she was weary, she still wanted to know what it was. And she was determined to find out.

The bell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed and pulled her books from her locker. She didn’t want to be late.

***

Hours later, school was long over, and Nelia was busy at work in the kitchen, kneading dough for her second batch of strawberry calzones, the first already in the oven. Her mother stood at in front of the doorway, watching her.

“That’s a lot of dessert calzones for 4 people.”

She finished kneading and started rolling out the dough. “Oh no, ours are part of the last batch. Most of these are offerings.” She turned to her mother. “I’m going to the Cemetery after dinner. To pay some respects.”

Her mother sighed. There was no talking her out of this. Every time they go someplace new, she always paid her respects at a local gravesite. She stopped trying to prevent her a long time ago.

“Well, just be back before midnight. But in the meantime, let me help you close the ones you’ve already filled. We could talk, use some mother daughter bonding time.” She smiled and nodded at her mum, handing her a spare apron. She gladly took it and set to work beside her daughter.

“Have you heard? There’s a story I heard. They say this town has some kind of ghost hero…”

***

It was late in the evening, and she had paid her respects at the last grave when she saw him.

And he was oh so very much Alive.

Silver white hair adorned his head like a glowing crown. Striking, electric green eyes, a black jumpsuit with white boots and gloves. Veins, across his skin, visible with the implication of pure green death flowing in them, the sound of each breath he takes. A pulsating buzz emitting from his chest, almost sounding like a beating heart. These where the features of Amity Park’s local hero and (dead) celebrity, Danny Phantom.

And he had just landed in front of her.

“Um, are you ok? It’s pretty late out.”

She blinked at first, startled to hear him talk, but composed herself enough to speak.

“Ah, yes I’m fine. Just, paying my respects.” She gestured to the grave and the basket of food.

“Oh, really? That’s nice of you! Apart from family, hardly anyone pays respect these days.”

“Yes, it’s something I try to do everywhere I go. Speaking of respect, where’s yours?”

Danny blinked. “My what?”.

“Your grave. I have to pay my respects to you. This is the only cemetery in town, but I didn’t see your grave.”

Danny froze in shock. He hadn’t really thought about it.

“Oh. I kind of, uhm, don’t have one?” Because I’m not really dead.

It was Nelia’s turn to be shocked. And then she was angry. Was this town really so ungrateful that they didn’t have a grave for their hero? That wouldn’t do.

“Where do you want one?”

“What?”

“Where would you want your grave? I’m going to make you one.”

Danny’s eyes widened.

“Your… going to make a grave for me?” “Of course? It’s only common decency, a basic right to the dead. I might not have your body, but if I have a photo to at least mark your image, it would do.”

Danny was stunned by this gesture. No one had offered him a grave before. So, he told her about his ideal spot.

Weeks later, in a secluded spot in the woods, he stands with her above a freshly dug grave, underneath a willow tree, facing directly at the night sky marked with a picture of him in his ghost form. She drops a plate of calzones and lights some lavender incense. She pays her respects and stands back letting him trace over the picture and admire the grave. It’s not the best grave, but it’s also the only one he’s received. He couldn’t help it, as a few tears dripped from his eyes. It was a sweet gift.

He turns to her, clasps his hand in hers. He manages to choke out between tears.

“Thank you.”

She stares back at him. This action, it’s so… human. She senses familiarity, like she could almost imagine him when he was alive……

Oh.

Oh.

The connection between the dead boy and alive ghost hits her like a train, all the similarities adding up. She smiles at him.

“It’s your grave. You should bring your friends to see it.”

His eyes widen in panic, wondering how she found out. She shakes her head.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He relaxes and nods, let’s go of her hands and they stare back at his very own grave. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they see it.

That night, she’s back in her room, wide awake, thinking of everything that happened. His hands were cold, but not like death cold. Like he had stuck his hands in the freezer. His tears were so real.

This boy, who was dead yet alive. Walking perfectly on the line between life and death, tittering to neither side.

Schrödinger’s boy indeed.

[thefanbasewhore]

“Mine.”

Summary: Din says goodbye to reader and Grogu but once they are reunited Din has mixed feels about the situation, jealous of Luke.

Warning/content: Angst, Jealous!Din, fighting between Din and Luke and reader and Din, Jedi!Reader. Din accuses reader of cheating. Nothing too spicey unless you guys would like a second part ? But would recommend 18+, Season 2 spoilers 

Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader

Master list. || Part 2. 

There's a shift on tension in the room, it didn't go unnoticed much like the feeling of your own heart breaking. It's breaking for Grogu, for Din, your Mandolorian, who stands tall, strong despite the crushing feeling inside his chest. He's helmetless in a room full of people for the first time ever willingly, he does it for the boy, the child he loves.

It's the first time you see his face, his hair is messy but it's cute, brown in color with small ringlets that curl against the base of his neck, his eyes are expresso brown, smooth curve of his nose is small but prominent, lips pink and form the perfect pout, small hairs from his mustache curling across his top lip. He is so incredibly handsome, but your sorrow won't let you see that, there is no time to think about. The child presses a soft touch against his square jaw, in his own way of saying, "I see you."

This makes tears even well up in your own eyes as he looks over Din's shoulder, reaching out for you. The last thing you expect when Din head turns over his shoulder to look at you are the matching tears. It's hard to stop, squeezing his eyes shut as he bites his bottom lip, chewing at it nervously. 

The two strides it takes to finally reach them is like the longest walk of your life, your head rests against the Mandalorian's chest piece as you take the small guy into your arms, squeezing him close. The sob that falls from your lips doesn't go unnoticed as Din presses his large, gloved hand to your back, rubbing it in comfort. "Be good, little one." It's whispered as you hold him cheek to cheek. "You're going to do so well."

"Don't be afraid." Din's fingers find the child, placing him on the ground, knowing well you wouldn't be able to.

Grogu's eyes met yours with confusion as the Jedi picks him up. There's an unknown feeling within you, almost like you can feel his sadness but also excitement of learning once again. It makes you worried as his eyes peer at you, head tilting to the side. He's trying to tell you something, but you just can't hear it.

It isn't strong, actually you like to think your connection to the force as a small, annoying dangling thread stuck to the bottom of someone's boot that is always there, no matter how much they pull or prod it just falls through fingers but then again you never had a chance to learn from anyone.

All eyes are on you, breaking from your trance like thought as to look up to meet Din's eyes then Luke's, realizing they were directed towards you. "Did you say something?"

"Are you coming too?" Luke's words make you confused, eyebrows narrowing with a frown. The thought alone is enough to feel a ball in your throat, despite the words you’ve spoken, his intensions were clear from the start. 

 “You need training too." Din's hand stiffens against your lower back, chest momentarily at a pause as he realizes what is happening. He knew about this, even though you were clueless of what the force is, you knew it was in you, had told him and Ashoka questioned it about it only days ago. Never had he thought he'd loose both of the people that mean the most to him on the same day, it was almost..unbearable. A pregnant silence falling between everyone, Din can’t speak, he pauses, words trembling in his throat as he looks to you with pouty eyes.

Eyes meet Din's, shaking your head pressing yourself deeper into his chest. A familiar place that was warm, safe, How could you ever leave him? "No, I'm staying here."

"Go." Din urges, the hand applying just enough pressure toward the Jedi, trying to explain his words, it was okay. His flushes his own forehead against yours as he tilts your face towards his own, kissing the hair line softly. "Don't let me stop you, you need training."

"But --."

"I'll see you again, I swear by it." He promises, hands cup your cheeks, bringing your lips to his own. Fresh, new tears slip past both of sets of eyes. Goodbyes were never easy but necessary, destiny has written it long ago and Din Djarin of all people knows that. The kiss is soft, but you can't seem to pull yourself away pressing a few more in their wake. The movement of his arms wrapping around your waist lifts your feet from the ground as he hugs you close. Lips tickle your ear as he whispers, "I'll see you soon sweet girl, don't forget how strong you are."

"I love you." It's the first time the words are said, while his heart squeezes in joy, but mouth dries at the words he's always wanted to hear, he wishes you never said them, it makes good bye so much harder.

"I love you." He answers back truthfully, using the back of his hand to wipe the sizzling trail of tears from his cheek as you step away. Grogu reaches out almost instantly for his mother, the familiarity is more comforting then the stranger’s arms. You follow the Jedi when reaching the loft and turn around waving at your Mandalorian one more time. Din can't find himself to return it, shoulders leaning forward compensating for the pain he feels in his heart. It's heavy, putting all of his trust into one man but at least you and Grogu had each other.

-

You are barely able to suppress the shriek that is mumbles against your lips as the base of Luke's foot comes in contact with your chest, pushing you from the advantage you finally gained. While you try to reach for him he’s too fast, too skilled as he swiftly moves from the counter attack.

"Ugh!" The sound ripples from your raw throat as the pair circle each other, waiting for the next move, lightsabers in the air, it's a waiting game. "Stop doing that it's not fair!"

"Why isn't it fair? You left it open. Do better."

You huff, "I have boobs! Well who knows anymore? After that."

The last few months have not only been the most terrifying of your life but also the most exciting, borderline exhilarating. At first it wasn’t noticeable, arms would ache for holding the saber in the air for a few minutes but with every passing day it became lighter and lighter until you moved with uttermost swiftness, the saber a feather in your hands. Never had you thought you would love to fight, being able to finally control the owner within. Luke had become family, taking you in and helping you. It has been quite difficult, Luke was a perfectionist at best, he was not happy unless everything was done right, which once made you sore and cry, but looking back at it now, you have mastered so much. The amount of long hours of sitting at the table trying to pass a stupid apple back and forth, learning to be silent, trying to sneak up on an opponent but now it’s easy, all thanks to Luke but still to this day you can't even look at an apple, let alone eat it.

Even though he is picky, you understand. He has made you strong, happy to learn about the very thing you understand nothing about. It’s safe to say you were ignorant, taking advantage of the gift given to you.  

Luke rolls his eyes, the green saber retreating back into the canister as he tucks it back into his belt. "Training is done for now."

Your head tilts in understanding, tucking away the bright light until is clicks into the holder attached to your belt. There's a lingering silence, figuring it’s a  silent dismissal turning to return home but Luke's voice stops you. "Padawan?"

"Yes Master?"

"I sent out word to your Mandolorian." The smile drops from your face almost instantly, serious eyes look over his own for the lie, for the joke as if he would break into laughter but he didn't. He's still as he gives a shy smile, you tense instantly, heart stuttering inside your chest, it must be a joke. Your about to curse, tell him it's not funny but he beats you to it. "I sent out days ago, he is due any day now."

"You're serious? It's not funny --."

"You have done well, you exceeded my expectations. You deserve to have some time off. You and Grogu, it's been months." You squeal excitedly, the smile crinkles eyes, almost hurts because it's been so long since you felt genuine happiness.

"Now come, the little one is waiting."

-

Dinner has to be your favorite time of the day, only because after the relief your aching body gets, sore, black and blue but strong, you’re capable of more than you’ve ever known to be. Luke always reminds you, never lets you falter, never lets you have the chance to doubt yourself, he’s always there to remind you much you’ve accomplished but there is always more to learn. He's a good master, fair but authoritative when need be, he's shown you so much but had given you so much more: a purpose, a friend.

With dinner came relief but also meant you could see Grogu, he hasn't grown much physically but the force has made him powerful, such a small creature to have so much but it is so different with him. While the force only touched you, it seems to run through Grogu's veins, it's so natural to him. 

Luke is right next to you, sitting in the uncomfortable excuse of a chair but happy none the less as Grogu sits in the middle of the table in front of his plate with a coo, large black eyes peering up at his master, head tilting. "What's wrong little one?"

You don't need the force to feel what he's thinking, you communicated with this little guy way before all of this feeling though the force mumbo jumbo. The force was  never needed to feel him, understand the boy.  Reaching over to Luke's plate with a cheeky smile using your own fork to poke the potato. "He likes the hash."

Both of you are so occupied the hole of silence the hall falls into is unoticed, the heavy steps of boots that haunt your dreams. The Mandalorian seems so big in the hall, all the basker gives off the illusion of large broad shoulders, a thick trunk that matches the man underneath, he’s intimidating as eyes shift off him quickly to return back to their meal, no one would dare try a Mandalorian, even trained Jedi. Din eyes meet the back of your head, heart thumping in anticipation of seeing his love again. It's been seven months, seven agonizing, brutal months without his family. Any other man would go insane but this very moment is the reason he continued to fight, when he received the message from Luke he couldn’t believe it. Seven months with no communication, your voice haunted his dreams just wanting to hear it one more time.

But now, he feels his heart drop, his own body filling with dread, anxiety at the close proximity of you and the Jedi, faces inches away in conversation. The way small dimples pop through as you smile shyly at him, Luke's own laugh as he leans closer to Grogu.

The sight of him alone is enough to have Din choked up if it wasn't for the way Luke reached for your fork, feeding Grogu a few bites, whatever he didn't eat was taken into his own mouth. When his lips close around the fork Din's fist bunch at his sides, it was too intimate for teacher and student. That's his girl, his son he is feeding.

You do however notice how Luke's head turns in the direction behind you, but continue talking eyes narrowing to question why. He's not paying attention to your words only smiling, like he knows something you don’t. When there's no answer you decide to look yourself, at first you don't register that Din is only feet away, dead center of the hall. Head snaps back in a double take as anticipation makes your heart flutter, emotion fills your throat making it hard to speak, even move.

Feet register before your brain has the opportunity to, running towards him with a loud laugh of joy. He has to brace himself for the impact when you jump on him, a small 'ooof' leaving his lips as he catches the weight. Arms support you from under thighs, holding close as your legs tighten around his waist.

Your smile is wide, never ending the most as he holds the blushing skin of your cheek, the other hand on the underneath skin of your thighs holding you to the basker clad chest. Beautiful, absolutely breath taking. He's seen this in his dreams, reuniting with you but this is too real, the soft flesh expanding on his palm is too soft. The sight of you after so long is euphoric, its hard to breath with you so close, to concentrate on anything but the way your lips curl into a smile, eyes so lovingly with unshed tears. It's a relief to see you so alive and well, stronger under his own strength but as soft he remembers.

"I missed you Cyar'ika." It's breathlessly whispered into the vocoder, static chokes his words but it may be the tremble in his throat as a hand knots into hair to pull you closer.

"Oh." You mumble under your breath with as realize the stares that follow you, quickly you lower your feet to the ground but your hand never leaves his forearm, clenching the underneath, tunic crumpling in your hands. Now that he's here you never want to let go. "Come see Grogu."

Din can't even get a word out as he's pulled towards the table, he nods, acknowledging Luke despite the tension he manifests. The reunion warms your heart, it makes it harder not to crying as you feel Grogu's emotions run through you. He feels love.. he's excited extending his arms with grapy hands.

With no hesitation the child is once again reunited with the basker clad man.. his truthful father. It's a sigh of relief that falls from Din that makes you smile up at him. Din reaches over with his free hand, cupping your cheek. No words were said, not in the presence of a stranger but it's shown in the way his thumb moves across the smooth skin of your cheek.

-

The moment he entered the room darkness cascades over them, small, familiar hands press against the the basker that covers his head, a silent ask for permission. "Cyar'ika, it's --."

"I can't believe you're here, I missed you so much love." Din's eyes close so tightly at the words, he doesn't want to stop you. He wants to feel your skin pressed against his, he swears he's almost knocked off his feet when the helmet falls to the ground with a loud thump lips brusingly hard against his own.

"Sweet -." He tries to speak against but is met with the softness again, tongue seeking permission against his bottom lip.

"Missed you." Lips press against his jaw, following to his neck sucking softly on the smooth skin. A small, choked moan falls from his lips as you nip at the junction between his clavicle and throat.

The feeling of welted skin has you raising your head up in confusion, fingers taking place of your lips to feel the healing skin. It's not a scar or a wound but purposely put there, as you trace it with your fingers you begin to paint a small picture with the raised lines.

"It's a symbol of leadership along my people." He answers, hands reaching up to gently wrap around your wrist, bringing it to press against his cheek. His next words almost as unexpected as learning he has a new tattoo on his neck. "Would you like to see it?"

"But the creed.." you mumble, eyes roaming over the slightest curve of his face the darkness of allows as he pushes you to straddle his lap, his other hand running over the expanding skin of your thigh.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before my love." He's referring to the moment before you and the child left him, kissing him goodbye. "The creed is broken but I am a Mandalorian, nothing will change that."

"But, I ugh." The words are not of the man you knew almost a year ago, but show maturity, experience has formed him into a new person but nonetheless he still is yours.

It's just dawned on you now, while you were growing with power was so was Din. The lightsaber pressing against your outer thigh reminded you of it, while you have gained one, Din had ruled with one. Every new experience, lesson, moments spent crying Din has had similar, except his people depend on him for survival.

"Oh my God." You mumble under your breath, eyes widening in shock. His words, the tattoo meaning, the new signet pressed into his chest, the thicker tunic decorated with a gold pattern, you were so busy just concentrating the fact he was here, you never bothered to look at the changes, the clues. Two large horns soldered into his helmet you never noticed until now poke against your ankle. "You actually did it? I though you didn't want it."

"It's my responsibility to my people to get our home back. Once you left I had nothing but them, Bo-Katan has been helping me. We are so close Cyar'ika." Din presses his forehead against the skin of your shoulder, breathing deeply. "I can't wait to show you."

"So close to what?"

"Not hiding anymore, to regaining Mandalore." The words make your skin warm, a soft smile filled with admiration, proudness. "I'm building a home for us."

"You have changed Din."

"So have you Cyare. You look so well, feel so strong. You are where you’ve always belonged." He is right, there's something that changes in the air when you are nearby now; a power that follows you, makes everyone fear the presence but he loves it. "I wish I could have been here to see it. I dream of when we will be together again."

"Can I see?" The words are unsure, despite his earlier words old habits die hard, promising never to look unless he wants it, it was his choice, never yours.

"Please." It's soft, tender as you shakily wobble on legs to walk across the room, fingers ghost over the switch before a loud knock against the door makes even Din's stomach drop.

"Padawan?" Luke's voice makes Din scowl, what is it with this guy?

"Yes Master?" The way you answer so quickly with little regard towards Din has him swollowing loudly, jealousy searing his veins, it makes his forehead hot.

"While I have promised you a break the day is still not over, training will continue."

"Be right out." It's quick, the kiss pressed against his lips, it has him reaching out to hold you again but you already out the door leaving him gritting his teeth.

-

When he finds you again it almost an hour of looking for you. He's irritated, it shows in the way he walks, tall and intimidating with every crunch of sand under his boots.

Despite it being evening the sun is still blaring, it's too hot for anything but he manages to power through, though taking off the helmet is an option if is his only line of defense when it comes to be surrounded by Jedis.

It's an odd sight, you're legs are crossed as Grogu sits feet in front of you. Eyelashes fluttering in concentration, frustration clear in the way the junction between your eye brow wrinkles. It's magical, the way the large rock moves across the length of the pair. It's amazing truly, he's watched the kid do it many times but with you, it's different, seven months ago you could barely hold a blaster let alone do this.

He was in complete awe, watching as Grogu takes the rock himself but to him it's effortless. He doesn't even bat an eye as the rock moves higher and higher until it's explodes. The small pieces shoot towards him, the rocks dink against his helmet knocking him forward that he doesn't give you enough time to warn you that there's someone behind you, he feels himself jump forward to protect  but natural reflexes already have you up, your own blue saber flashes with Luke's green one.

It's a relief it's only him but also makes him want to longue and wrap his hands around his throat for even trying to attack you, it's instincts, his own will to protect his family. He was so caught up with his own anger, he didn't notice the small hands tugging at his pant leg.

"Hey buddy." It's the soft coo that warms his heart, the sound he missed so late at night, all by himself. It feels so right to have him in his arms again, it's a distraction for a moment, but the loud shriek that mumbles against your lips as the saber slices your arm breaks the moment.

Din stalks toward without hesitation, hands reaching out to pull Luke by his collar but hand stops half way there; a choking sound falling from his lips as he feels his throat start to close.

"Luke!" You exclaim, hands pulling on his shoulder. "Stop!"

Luke doesn't listen, tilts his head as the Mandalorian's other hand reaches for his own neck, the child falls from his arms but Luke reaches for Grogu as he floats towards him and that is when he decides to let go of his hold on Din.

"She is fine." Luke's tone is accusing, eyes lit up in anger. He knew the reasoning behind the Mandalorian's attack but it irritates him. Din falls to the ground into his knees as he coughs, lung begging for air. "She will heal, it's no wonder she was afraid of the force. You made her feel as if she was weak. Couldn't protect herself. Can't you see she is strong?"

The words sting a bit, you never felt like that with Din but the words of your master, where they true? Had he been the reason you never felt the force like this before? It’s not his fault, he’s always been a protector.

"Yes." Din chokes on the words, it's surprises Luke how quickly he recovers, leaning on knees, visor tilting up to meet his gaze. "I do, I don't need you telling me either Jedi."

The last word is spoken with gritted teeth, disgust as he stands, squaring up the man in front of him, pressing the top of his basker against Luke’s face. 

"Then do her a favor and never, ever underestimate her again." Din doesn't like what the Jedi is insinuating, hands balling in fist, finger coming to poke the Jedi's chest as he speaks. "Respect her Mandalorian."

"I do." You're about to squeeze between the two men but Din speaks too fast. "I don't need any magic tricks to beat your ass either."

"Din!" You hiss, the helmet pointing in your direction as a growl admits his chest.

"You're sticking up for him?!" Then once again you're minded how immature Din Djarin can really be. He's protective, overbearing but you expect more from Luke as he speaks. "You're just taking out the fact that Grogu and the girl are in my care, they are with me."

"My son, my girl." Then it hit you, all so sudden he wasn't an asshole, maybe a little immature, but he was jealous. The growl that rumbled his chest made even you shake. You couldn't find yourself to blame him either, both of the people he's ever cared for pulled from his arms, seven months spent with Luke. It made him insecure, dear the worst.

"Enough!" A hand presses against each other their chests, meeting Luke's first. Eyes warn him, "I expect more from you."

Then they move to Din with a scowl, "And you have no reason to be like this, Luke is my friend. He is helping me! I am strong now because of him."

"You have always been strong." The words make you pause, heart dropping. Guilt dropping your shoulders instantly. "You never needed to hold a lightsaber for me to see that."

A strong, confident finger lifts lifts towards Luke's direction, it looks like he's going to say something else judging by his stance, looks over you one more time then Grogu before stalking away towards the direction of the hall.

-

It's only an hour later, and Din is no where to be found. Luke has told you he's taken the child for a little bit, you can only imagine how that exchange went but respectfully allow him to have time with him, besides you doubt he wants to see you right now.

He was right, it was a force of habit trying to protect you but he has never doubted or hesitated for one second when it came to you. There has only been one person who has ever believed that anything was possible for you and it's the one you managed to chase away.

The room is dark, the only light comes from the gasps of the curtains the moon allows in. You have given up on waiting on the bed, instead curl up on the large longue chair in the corner, book open but you wouldn't even notice if there weren't any words. Too deep in thought over your Mandalorian.

What If he leaves without seeing you? Surely, he wouldn't, it was stupid fight, it shouldn't have happened but you shouldn't have accused him either. The rattling of the door knob makes you pause, daring not to breath that it might scare him away. He's quiet as the silhouette of armour makes it through the doorway, shiny, the darkness of his visor camouflaging him throughout the door.

The light flickers on, you want to squeeze your eyes shut, away from his gaze out of fear he might leave again seeing that you aren’t sleeping, waiting for him.

He doesn't speak, only stiffens his stance, arms crossing his chest as the helmet tilts down in your direction. "What are you doing?"

"Reading."

"In the dark?" You have been caught there's no reason to argue with him just turn a dark shade of pink as the book is closed with a loud echo. Tension fills the air, you're torn between apologizing and expect one first, his behavior was inappropriate.

"Are you happy here?" It's surprising watching the Mandalorian walk close until he's between the V of your legs, a soft breath caught through the static as he uses your thighs as an anchor for his hands as he slowly lowers to the floor in front of you. His force his horse as leans over, pressure pressed against your chin, it's not enough to hurt but enough to show he is angry. "Is there someone here making you happy? That isn't me?"

You don't like what he's insinuating, brow furrow with a deep frown and a scoff, "If you have something to ask I suggest you come out with it Din."

"Are you fucking him?" The words make you huff, pushing the warmth of his skin away but he reaches out to touch you again. He wants you to look at him, he wants to see the truth your eyes will tell.

The fucking nerve he has to knot his fingers into your hair, keep your head still as the visor moves up and down the soft features of your face, it's soft but shows meaning. At this very moment you here the way your body reacts to him, wanting to move closer, wrap the other hand around your neck at his tone, the authority in his voice. "I asked you a question."

"Really?" The way he stares just irritates you. Spending all your nights longing for him, all the tears wasted on missing him just for him to believe you were unfaithful. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

"Don't act like it's all me! I can see it, you sit so close that you're practically on his lap. He ate from your fork. He comes to your aid like I don't know you can take care of yourself, tells me of all people to respect you, never undermine you. When have I ever? He seems to forget that I was the person who first trained you. So, I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you fucking the Jedi? Do you like him?"

"Get out of my face Din!" The heat of his visor, the blackness hides any kind of emotion, all you see is the anger that comes from his throat, words stinging cheeks. It's impossible to concentrate with him so close, pressing his entire weight against your thighs.

"Tell me now." The words harsh, he needs to know, hear the words from your lips to know they are true.

"No! How dare you even accuse me of that? I have been waiting for months to see you again and you accuse me of being unfaithful?" The tears sting, almost hurt as much as knowing Din has little trust in you. His chest is raising fast, deep, quick breaths against your knee, showing just how worked up he is, he's frustrated, the throbbing in his pants gives that away and makes you think if there’s a different reason. He's insecure, jealous, absolutely pissed.

The harsh fingers leave your hair only to meet the edge of his helmet, you don't even get time to register before it falls to the floor next to you. Seeing is face is.. different this time.

It's clear, the first time was rushed, tear filled but now he look so.. good.

His brows furrowed in anger, nostrils flaring, hair thrown messily across his forehead, you don't even get time to look at his lips before his hands touch your cheeks pulling you into a bruising kiss, fingers nails forming small crescents on hips as the words are moaned against your lips, rushed with how desperate the Mandalorian is.

"You are mine." It's not the words that make you gasp but the hand that tugs the tips of your hair, pulling your head down more to accept his crushing lips. "Mine."

tags: @remmyswritings​, @b0nnyzz​, @heavenlymistake​, @mcueveryday​, @phantomofthewapera, @dindjarinswhore​, @hellothereobi​, @mudhornchronicles​, @alwaysreading1019, @stepintothelightz, @pepmintmocha​, @charlottemcgrace​, @the-last-twin-of-krypton​, @disgvst-d​, @atrxdixs​, @cal-ifornication​, @acourtofsnakes​, @waiting-for-motivation​, @that-sarcastic-pieces, @writings-of-a-fool​, @theocatkov​, @itsfangirlmendes​, @maileecabudol​, @ghost-lantern​, @mandoandyodito​, @sleep-deprived-things​,  @maddie0w0​, @bluegalaxyprime​, @stilledimperfections​, @altarsw​

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •3•

I hope this ain't getting shitty. Thank you for reading, sexy people. Send me a message or an ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

warnings: hungover jaehyun, age gap, hospitals, nothing too extreme.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato @painted-hills

~

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

“Wake up, sunshine.” He groaned, all the memories from the past night hitting him like a truck. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

His eyelids finally fluttered open, frown softening at the sight of you in a messy bun and your cute pajamas.

“How come you look so fresh?” The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in the span of a few hours. Thank God he didn't have to work that day.

“I always look fresh.” You seemed to be more comfortable around him. Perhaps it was because you had to tuck him in last night. “Up.”

You tugged both of his limp hands, forcing him to sit up.

“What did you cook? It smells nice.” He scrunched up his nose like a little kid.

“Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.” Fast as lightning, he got up from bed. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed the blanket hanging from the edge of your sofa. Disappointment pinched his heart.

“Why didn't you sleep with me? You would've been more comfortable.”

You set two plates on the small table, pulling the pan out of the stove to serve them.

“You spread yourself all over the bed as soon as I laid you down.” You lied successfully. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t that comfortable yet.

You let the pan down on the kitchen counter, taking a seat in front of him.

“Do you still want to visit my father?” Sparkling orbs stared at him timidly, fearing his answer would be negative.

“I mean…” You hummed, trying not to give it as much importance. “I do want to go!” He quickly corrected himself, frantically shaking his hands. “It’s just that I don't want to meet your father like this.” He pointed at his bed hair, which had only become messier since he woke up.

“You’re acting like he's gonna see you.” There was a slight bitterness in your tone, along with a fake grin.

“Alright, let's do this instead...” Yoonoh sat up straight, clearing his throat as if he were about to give a speech. “We’ll have breakfast, you'll shower quickly, and then we’ll drive to my house so I can fix myself. How does that sound?”

“So I'm finally gonna see your mansion? How exciting.” You kicked his leg teasingly under the table, his cheeks inevitably dipping as he tried to suppress a smile. “I bet you have some peacocks in your backyard.”

“And there's also a dolphin in my pool.” He let out a hearty laugh, extending his arm over the table to grab your hand.

His house was most definitely not what you expected.

It was about the size of the one you grew up in, the decoration inside minimalistic. There were no expensive paintings framed with pure gold, only pictures of him and his family. There was a small backyard you could access through the French door in the kitchen. Half of it was occupied by a greenhouse.

“I had to donate the peacocks to the zoo.” He whispered as you looked through the glass door, squeezing your shoulders with his slim fingers.

“What a shame.” Hesitantly, he wrapped both of his limbs around your torso, letting his chin rest stop of your head. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly against your chest. Yoonoh surely felt it but decided not to comment on it.

“There’s a Tv in my room in case you want to watch something while I shower.” A hint of mischief adorned his honey-like voice. “Or you can come in and watch me instead.”

“Stop!” Your elbow connected with his ribs out of pure panic, making him bend in pain with his hands covering the injured spot.

“It was a joke...” He whispered, teeth gritting together.

I made him mad, you thought. Should you escape or face the consequences of his anger? All thoughts erased from your mind as he grabbed your calves, lifting you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with closed fists, unable to see the expression on his face. “Yoonoh!”

He went up the stairs, proceeding to enter his room and throw you on his bed. Thousands of dirty scenarios crossed your mind before he threw himself on top of you, crushing your bones under his muscular body.

“My...ribs...”

“Oh, sorry, what is that?” To make matters worse, his fingers tickled your sides, provoking a fit of desperate giggles to escape your mouth. “I’m not hearing an apology.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands finally stopped, giving you time to breathe. Nonetheless, he remained laid on your chest, using his forearms to lift his weight. “Aren’t you gonna shower?”

“I like you.”

The confession was so sudden, so raw it took you some time to finally react. But you had no words to give him an answer, instead, you combed your fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp while waiting for him to speak up again.

“I never thought I'd be feeling more than friendly affection for you. Our agreement doesn't include love, after all. But I've started feeling like a teenager all over again. I can't help but get excited whenever you call me. Do you know how sweet your voice sounds through the phone?” He sighed, discouraged at your lack of response. “I guess you're not there yet.”

Instead of verbally answering, you planted a sweet kiss on his head, right where small, grey hairs had started growing.

“I’m not good with words.”

“That’s alright.” He snuck his hands under your back, holding you tightly as a sudden need to nurture you took over him. The mature image he had of you faded in less than a second, leaving behind a young, troubled woman. “I’ll shower quickly so we can go see your pops. I bet we’ll get along just fine, maybe even go golfing when he wakes up.”

“I forgot you're almost the same age. Creepy.” He smiled, though uneasiness started steering in his guts.

“Does that bother you?” He asked without giving it a second thought.

“I don't know yet.”

(...)

The man with high cheekbones and bruised skin laid limp on the hospital bed. Yoonoh had been working on his case for about a month, yet, it only started feeling real the moment he entered the room.

“This is my dad.” All emotions had escaped your eyes as if your soul wasn't there anymore. Only an empty shell.

“You look so much like him.” he was afraid touching you wouldn't be the right thing to do, so instead, he said: “He seems like a suitable golf buddy.”

Tension finally loosened its grip around his body as you snorted, pigment returning to your cheeks. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“He will wake up, y/n.”

“He’s taking his sweet time.” You glanced back at the laying figure, skinnier with every day he spent asleep. “I want someone to pay for taking away the last person that loved me.”

The last person that loved you. Would Yoonoh be able to fill that spot? Not yet, probably. He couldn't modify the depth of his feelings, but he could surely give you the vengeance you longed.

“Do you trust me?” With your eyes still glued to your father, you nodded. “Then I can assure you we’ll win the case.”

“I know we will.”

He sat silently with you, holding your hand without saying a word. The smell of alcohol and the beeping noise of machines made him nauseous. He hated hospitals. You noticed the change in his demeanor, his hand becoming cold while holding yours with strength.

“Do you wanna go?”

“No!” He smiled through the pain, scooting his chair closer to lay your hand on his lap.

He wouldn't agree to get his ass off the plastic chair. You had to tell him you were hungry for him to finally stand up, still clutching your hand like your father did when you were still a kid. His parental behavior caused several emotions to stir inside your guts, so mixed up you couldn't quite put a finger on any of them.

“What do you want to eat?” The tension finally left his body once out of the building.

“Soup.” You smiled while swiping your thumb on top of his knuckles. “I know a place, but to be honest, it isn't good. So we can go to the store and get the ingredients to- but you can't cook.”

“I’m up for a cooking lesson if you are.” He wanted to see your pretty smile again. Maybe making a fool of himself would help. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Wow, so cool.”

“I know.”

(...)

“Can you grab that can of chicken broth?” You pointed at the high shelf, letting go of Yoonoh’s hand to allow him to move freely

“I have a better idea.” He dragged you by the arm so you were standing in front of him, trapped between his body and the shelf. “I’ll lift you so you can reach it.” Matching his words, his hands grasped your waist, ready to carry you.

“Stop!” You slapped his hands repeatedly between giggles. Ignoring your complaints, he started lifting you. “Yoonoh!”

“Yoonoh?” A feminine voice had him placing you back on your feet in less than a second.

“Seryeong, I didn't expect to see you here.” His hands remained seated on the curve of your waist.

“Neither did I. I was surprised when Sungchan told me you'd left early yesterday.” She seemed a bit older than you but still younger than the man behind you.

“I had some matters to take care of.” She eyed you from head to toes with a smug grin plastered on her lips. Just by the look of her clothes, you could tell she was as wealthy as Yoonoh. You feared the scene would turn into a tv worthy drama.

“I’ll go get the chicken breast.” You tried escaping his grip, only to be pulled closer to his warmth.

“No need to. It's already inside the cart.”

Why am I so dumb?

“Does your father know about your little girlfriend?” She asked without hesitation.

“I guess.”

“And why didn't he tell me anything?” She cocked an eyebrow, his hands finally loosening around your body and allowing you to move from your position.

“Look, this is something you should talk about with him. Now, if you excuse us...” With a hand on your shoulder, he began pushing the cart to the next aisle, the chicken broth long forgotten.

“Is this some kind of arranged marriage situation?”

“Something like that.” His hands were tense while holding the cart, knuckles turning white from the strength used. “Before you start asking, I'm not really in the mood and I don't want to direct my bad mood toward you. Let's talk about something else, alright?”

Who was that woman that had the power to turn him into a literal raging ball of fire with just a few words?

[babymilkawa]

a love that rings

bakugou katsuki, todoroki shoto (for the first half)

gn!reader :)

a soulmate au heavily inspired by the webtoon/kdrama love alarm

word count; 5682

warnings: angst, fluff, like one swear word

There are many things that Todoroki can put on his list of things he appreciates. The first bullet point, no doubt, would be your name in his curved but elongated writing, followed by several skipped spaces and then a list of the names of his friends. Except it doesn’t stop there. Below your name in those skipped lines there is an indented bullet point where little moments or traits of your relationship are written down. Here are a few: 

I love it when y/n tells me why they love me

I love it when y/n brushes their lips on my scar

I love it when y/n says my name in their sleepy voice

And it could go on and on. He’s still adding more to it to this day. 

Todoroki doesn’t know if you know about this list or if you have one of your own. He likes to know that it’s there, that he can always go back to it when he needs a reminder. And it’s never failed at that. Often times, he finds himself missing you late at night and he’ll just slip the paper out, reading it under the dim glow of his lamp. It’ll bring a fond smile to his face and he’ll be able to fall asleep just like that, counting the days until he gets to see you again. 

So he’s never doubted your relationship. He’s always felt a sense of security from you that he didn’t think he could get from anyone. Aside from that, Todoroki felt like life was moving at the right direction for him. He was making progress with his quirk and he landed an internship at an agency away from his father. Todoroki was slowly letting his walls descend.

One day, the two of you joined your usual cafeteria friends for lunch. Iida and Midoriya were talking about the most recent exam and Tsuyu and Uraraka were having their own conversation. But upon sitting down next to them, you couldn’t help but notice that they were both staring intently at their phone screens, giggling and occasionally gasping. Out of curiosity, you scooted closer and asked what had caught their attention.

“Oh, y/n have you heard?” asked Uraraka. “Apparently there was this app called love alarm that used to be trending in the early 2000′s! Now it’s getting popular again, you should really check it out.”

Her attention diverted back to her phone so you decided to see what was so interesting about it instead of asking her yourself. Pulling out your phone, you decided to download the app seeing as you had nothing else to do. Next to you, Todoroki was engaged in the conversation with Iida and Midoriya, nodding along as he put your favorite items from his plate to yours.

While taking bites out of your own lunch, you created a profile for the app, picking a picture that Todoroki had recently taken of you. You were presented with a loading screen and it was just about to be completed when a ringing sound echoed the cafeteria, followed by another in the same pitch. 

A blanket fell over the voices in the cafeteria and all heads turned to where the sound came from. Towards the east wall, where all the condiments are kept, two people stood facing each other, halos surrounding their feet. 

You were still confused as to what was even happening when Uraraka gasped next to you and whispered, “They rang each other’s love alarm! They’re soulmates!!”

Upon looking closer, you saw that they were students from Class 1-B. Tetsutetsu and Kendo to be exact. The pair of soulmates were glancing at their cellphones and looking up at the other, faces beating a shade of red. Then, one of the cafeteria ladies banged their spatula on a tray and ordered everyone to go back to their own business. 

Looking away, you focused your attention back to your phone where your own profile lay with arrows pointing to an empty bubble. Connecting two and two together, you realized that this app told you who your soulmate was. A lightbulb lit in your head and you turned to your boyfriend who was just about finishing up his lunch.

“Shoto! Have you heard? This app tells you who your soulmate is! See, mine is empty right now and I think it’s because you haven’t downloaded it yet.” 

You turned your screen towards him and he looked at it intently, mouth still chewing. 

“That's..interesting,” he said. “But why do we need an app to tell us that we love each other?”

“I know but Sho, I just want to see if this app is legit. Apparently, it was a thing back then too.” 

He seemed to understand your reasoning and frankly, he was curious himself. Pulling out his phone, Todoroki downloaded the app and set up a profile. As the two of you waited for his screen to load, you overheard students from other tables talking about love alarm too. 

“My parents said that this brought them together! It must be really accurate, then.”

Upon hearing that, your face lit up. It was true that you and Todoroki didn’t need technology to know that the two of you had nothing but love for each other. You already knew that he was your soulmate and that you were his. But the idea of having something like a man-made app confirm your feelings made you feel a sense of pride. It was the fact that you and Todoroki found each other even without one. 

Your boyfriend’s screen finished loading and the two of you leaned your heads together, waiting for a picture of you to pop up in his empty bubble. A line of sparkles circled around it and there you appeared, followed by a burst of confetti on the screen. You gasped and looked at him excitedly, shaking his arm. He smiled at you and looked at your icon on his screen, pride swelling in his own chest. The picture he had chosen for his own profile was one that you took for him. It was on the same day as the picture that he took for you, and arrows linked them together. 

Grabbing your own phone, you opened the app and waited eagerly for Todoroki’s picture to show up. You couldn’t wait to hear that same ringing sound you heard earlier and to see those overlapping halos by your feet. Then everyone would see that the two of you were made for each other, not even an app could disagree. 

But after staring at it for a good minute, the smile on your face started to droop. The grey bubble on your screen remained empty, even the smile in your profile picture looked a little upset. Todoroki was looking too but he said nothing. Why wasn’t his picture showing up? Was the app just glitching? All the excitement you had felt earlier drained away. Todoroki, sensing your change in mood, took your phone and helped you restart it.

“Maybe a lot of people are using it at the moment, that’s why it’s being a little slow. I’m sure I’ll show up if you check later,” he said, throwing you a soft smile. 

You simply nodded and turned back to your forgotten lunch. Around you, the cafeteria was still alive with voices and laughter. Somewhere in the back, another pair of rings echoed around. You picked at your food, not bothering to turn around to see who it was. That could’ve been yours. You and Todoroki could’ve had your own rings and everyone would congratulate the two of you. But instead, shouts of encouragement came from the back, not directed at you. 

Everywhere you went, you could hear rings across the halls or people crowding around their screens. It only angered you even further, knowing that your own love alarm was not functioning properly. It had been a few days since the events at the cafeteria and Todoroki’s profile refused to show up on your screen. He tried his best to console you and to let you know that it was just an app. Technology had its own mistakes, too. And you were starting to believe him. Your own friends had pointed out that the terms and conditions stated that it was only proven to be right 95% of the time. So really, it didn’t mean anything if the two of you were not paired as soulmates. It didn’t mean that you loved each other any less. Todoroki suggested that you both deleted the app and you agreed. But a part of you still wanted to wait and see. If Todoroki didn’t show up, would someone else? But you quickly became disgusted with your own train of thought. How would your boyfriend feel if you were his soulmate but he wasn’t yours? He would be just as upset. And if someone else was paired with you? Right, it would break his heart. You had to delete it right away. And you were just about to when a gruff voice called out to you.

Looking up, you saw that it was Bakugou. The two of you would meet in the afternoon sometimes to train while your boyfriend was at his internship. You and Bakugou both had quirks that went well together. You had the ability to slow down time around you, with a proximity of 10 feet. It came with the cost of extreme exhaustion which is why you had to train your reflexes to react quicker, extending your time while holding out your quirk. Even a few minutes or seconds could make a difference in battle. Bakugou himself was able to react quickly to any situation thrown at him so you figured that he was the best trainer in order for you to advance with your quirk. 

Forgetting all about your task to delete love alarm, you walked with your training partner and started to warm up. 

There was a calm silence between the two of you as you both stretched and warmed up your muscles. Glancing at him, you saw that his face was molded into a stern expression and you wondered if he ever had any other emotion. Then, just as the two of you were getting ready to start, you heard a pair of rings coming from outside Heights Alliance. The sound sparked curiosity in you and you turned to your partner.

“Have you heard of this new app called love alarm? People are becoming obsessed with it.”

He shrugged, “Not interested.”

“Aw, come on. You should give it a try, see who your soulmate is.”

“Like I said, I’m not interested. Now hurry up before it gets dark.”

---

After taking a cold shower and finishing your homework, Todoroki had gotten back from his internship, just about ready to crash from how exhausted he was. Seeing your boyfriend like this made you reach over to ruffle his hair, helping him take his hero costume off. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I was going to wait for you.”

“You must be hungry then. You can go without me, I just want to shower real quick.”

“I can wait for you, Sho. It’s no big deal.”

Too tired to argue, Todoroki nodded and went to go shower. As he was in there, you helped clean up his equipment and put his sweaty clothes in the laundry. 

Somewhere in between, his phone had slipped out and you picked it up. You were going to set it aside when it lit up, presenting his wallpaper, a picture of the two of you on your most recent date. It made your heart warm and you smiled down at it. That’s right. You didn’t need some man-made program to tell you that Todoroki was right for you. You already knew it in your heart. 

But you couldn’t help but wonder if he had deleted the app like he said he would. You realized you had forgotten to do that yourself. Oops. You could do it later. Now, you unlocked his phone, only to see that it was already on the app. So he hadn’t deleted it yet. Looking at the pictures of his gentle face and your happy features, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Like it was your fault that your alarms didn’t ring. Obviously it wasn’t true but then it didn’t make any sense either. Did you just not have a soulmate? Did the universe decide to leave you alone? Each person should have their own. There was always a pair. Then, you started to doubt your feelings for Todoroki. You knew that you loved him, though. Was it just not enough? You couldn’t shake that feeling of guilt for your boyfriend. He loved you so much, enough for the app to recognize it. Maybe you just had to show it to him more. Yeah, that was it. All you had to do was openly show and tell him how much he meant to you. 

Putting his phone to the side, you patiently waited for him to come out of the shower. You decided that now was a great time to start. As soon as he comes out, you would hand him his clothes and listen to him talk about his day. That was nothing different. But you would also make sure that he himself knew you were listening. Maybe throw in a light massage to his aching muscles. And that’s just what you did when he stepped out. 

The two of you walked hand in hand to the kitchen of Heights Alliance, sticking your noses up in the air to the smell of good food. As Todoroki was talking next to you, you saw Bakugou enter the hallway and you were about to wave to him when the sound of rings bounced the narrow walls. Looking around, you noticed that there was no one around but the three of you. Heart beating in excitement, you pulled your phone out. Was it finally working? Did you finally ring Todoroki’s alarm? The other two pulled their phones out too and you turned your screen, ready to show your boyfriend his picture below yours when you saw that..he wasn’t there. But there was someone below your picture, alright. Instead, it was the last person you would ever expect. Looking down at your phone, you saw that a picture of Bakugou was connected with arrows to your own. And a series of halos surrounded your feet, linking you with him. And Todoroki was caught in the middle of it.  

---

Back in your dorm, you found yourself angry, no, fuming. What kind of sick person would-would create something like this? Todoroki could sense your ignited emotions from across the room and he quickly went over to calm your shaking fists. 

“Y/n, look it’s noth-”

“I’m sorry!” You said, looking up at him with glistening eyes. “I-I should’ve deleted it when you told me to b-but I forgot and-”

“Y/n.”

You swallowed, tears threatening to spill out. You tried to read your boyfriend’s expression but your vision blurred and oh god, why couldn’t you have just listened to him then..

“I’m not..angry, y/n. Just confused.”

You sniffed and he wiped away the teardrops leaking at the corners of your eyes. 

“I didn’t delete it, either,” he said. “I forgot too. So, it’s not your fault.”

Right. You knew that when you looked at his phone. It wasn’t snooping, the two of you trusted each other and freely looked at the other’s phones often. 

“But..” he continued. “I don’t think it would’ve done much of a difference.” 

At this, you looked up at him and he nodded. “I did some research and apparently, your alarm won’t turn off just because you deleted the app. Once you download it and set up a profile, there’s no turning back.”

Oh. Oh. So that meant that Bakugou must’ve recently downloaded it. Because when you had asked him about it, he had said he wasn’t interested. Which is why your alarms didn’t ring while you trained. It was because he didn’t even have it then. 

But then, the idea of you and your training partner made no sense either. The two of you could barely be even called friends. He would often dismiss any small talk you tried to initiate and only commented about your sparring mistakes. So what made love alarm think that the two of you were for each other?

You thought that it was supposed to bring soulmates together. But all you could feel was a whirl of emotions, anything but love and connectedness. It would bring a wedge between Todoroki and you.

“Y/n,” he said, bringing you out of your head. “I think that this app is..what people say it is. Meaning, I think it’s accurate. After all the researching I did, I didn’t read a single story or review talking about how two people who weren’t meant for each other were put together. I love you y/n..but I don’t want to be the one who holds you back from..Bakugou. If he's the one who'll really make you happy.”

Realizing what he was hinting at, you grabbed at his arms, furiously shaking your head from side to side.

“No! This-this app is bullshit! We can’t believe it! You make me happy, Sho!”

Todoroki slowly detached your gripping hands from his arms. “I just want you to be happy, y/n. And if it’s with him, then I’ll let you go.”

No, he couldn't just leave like that. You made eye contact with him and slowly took in a deep breath, letting your muscles relax.

He immediately realized what you were doing and backed away. "Don't."

But it was the only way to make him stay. By slowing time down around you, you could prevent him from leaving, from stepping out that door and turning away forever.

Todoroki, however, was quick to step out, leaving a distance of more than 10 feet between the two of you.

Heart heavy, you could feel the tears creeping back up so you let yourself exhale. It was no use.

He felt like he was doing the right thing for you, but his heart still filled with pain and regret. Todoroki left your dorm, trying to forget the warmth emanating from your hands just seconds ago.

---

In another dorm, one floor down and several doors away, Bakugou lay with his head in his hands.

Y/n? My soulmate? He didn’t know whether to feel hopeful or pity. Pity would be for the man you loved.

Bakugou had always admired your strength and determination, your beauty. And only recently did he really accept his feelings for you. He was doing a great job at hiding it, too. If the two of you were ever put in the same sentence, the topic would only be about your quirks and training. Nothing more. He made sure to avoid conversation with you, even if a part of him was dying to know your interests, anything outside of your quirk and fighting ability.

But now, this new piece of information left him confused, lost as to what to do next. And he always hated this feeling. The feeling of not being in control of yourself. It meant he was weak, vulnerable to whatever was out to get him. He had to figure out the next steps, quick.

First things first, he would delete the app. Yes, the last thing he wanted was to even hear those rings again, especially if they were coming from him. He was sure Todoroki would hate it too, his own significant other, ringing another person's alarm. Though the blonde and Todoroki never really got along, he couldn't help but feel remorseful.

Bakugou sighed out loud. If only he hadn't downloaded it. After hearing you talk about it before training, his curiosity sparked and Bakugou just wanted to know if he even stood a chance. Of course, his goals of becoming #1 couldn't even compare to his desire for you, at least that's what he told himself. He had long accepted that it was just a crush, no need to think about how he might like the idea of you being with him.

After deleting love alarm clean off his phone, Bakugou pondered about what to do next. Scanning his eyes around his dorm, he carefully thought about what could be done to erase that look of horror from your face earlier. His eyes landed on his gauntlets and he grabbed his phone again. Bakugou would text you, saying that the two of you shouldn't train anymore. Although he couldn't think of anyone better than you as his partner, he had to let it go.

The text was about to be sent when a thought occurred to him. Why was he doing this? Why was he trying to cut ties with you all of a sudden? Did he..care about your relationship with Todoroki? No, that's not it. Even if Todoroki looked so hurt at that moment, there was still something about him that pissed the blonde off. Then what was it? Did his feelings for you grow so strong that he cared about your happiness, even if it was with another man?

Annoyed, Bakugou deleted the text. He could just tell you in person later.

---

Back in your dorm, you found yourself pacing back and forth. When Todoroki left, you didn't know whether to go after him or to let him cool off. He was clearly distressed. Maybe it was just something he said in the heat of the moment, breaking up. Yeah.

Leaving your dorm, you set out to go find him. In the common room, a few of your classmates were gathered around, casually talking in their free time. Todoroki wasn't in the room and you were about to leave when you saw him enter, his bi-colored hair standing out. Your face broke into a smile and a call almost left your lips when a pair of rings broke out, shushing the people in the room. Your smile faded a little as you looked at your phone. Nothing changed, as expected. Bakugou's profile was still there but it wasn't yours that rang.

"Momo!"

You looked up. Mina's figure was hovering over the said classmate who was seated on the couch. Sure enough, a small halo surrounded her feet, followed by more increasing in size. Peering over her shoulder, you saw who her soulmate was and your heart shattered. Your breath left your lungs and your throat closed up. All you wanted was to just get out of there. You didn't even want to see where the other set of rings lay, you knew they were there.

After you left, Todoroki found himself staring at the spot where you stood. His eyes were on you when it happened. He didn't have to check to know that Momo's rings were connected to his.

Right after he left your dorm, Todoroki received a notification from love alarm.

Todoroki Shoto, a shield has been gifted to you.

A love alarm shield: your soulmate will be blocked, replacing them will be the second choice.

You can request for a spear anytime after the transaction and all effects from the shield will be erased.

Would you like to use it?

He did it for you, so you could be happy with your soulmate.

And there in the common room, on his screen, was Momo's picture.

---

The next afternoon, Bakugou walked up to you and asked if you still wanted to train together. In your eyes, he could see that you had gotten no sleep, mind still foggy from last night's events.

You answered him with a meek "yes," hoping that sparring with him would wake you up and help you recharge.

After seeing your ex-boyfriend's face on another person's phone, you decided that it was right to let him go. You understood then, how he felt. If Momo and Todoroki were really meant for each other, you couldn't get in the way. You wanted him to be happy too.

Beside you, Bakugou was silent as usual, hands stuffed in his pockets. But you knew that things were different. You were each other's soulmate but you felt like you were close to him as much as you were close to Tokoyami, whom you've never even talked to.

You just felt so lonely. Last night was the first night in months where you slept alone, without the security of Todoroki's embrace. And it didn't feel like that was going to change anytime soon. Bakugou was never one for small talk so it was a waste of time to even try to become closer to him.

The blonde himself was contemplating on whether he should strike up a conversation or not. The reason why he always closed himself off to you was because he knew that if he really opened up, you would be able to see every crack and flaw and he would be left vulnerable.

Still, Bakugou couldn't help but think of the app as some kind of calling to him. He felt like he had to give it a try at least.

Turning to you, Bakugou saw that you were patting your pockets, a slight frown creasing your forehead.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I think I forgot my phone. Sorry, I'll be right back," you said, running towards the direction you came from.

Bakugou let out a sigh. Good, I didn't even know what I was going to say.

He decided to wait at the same spot instead of continuing the path to the field. It wouldn't take you long anyways, Heights Alliance was just in his view.

And only 5 minutes passed when he saw your figure come out of the dorms, jogging to catch up with him.

Then it happened again. A burst of halos surrounded you and looking down at his own feet, Bakugou saw that it was happening to him too.

You froze in place. Dammit, now?! As if things weren't awkward enough between us.

But 5 feet across from you, Bakugou was confused. He had deleted the app, didn't he? Why was it still linking the two of you together?

Slowly, you approached him and said, "Sorry, I know that's going to be annoying. You can't really turn it off."

"What?" You can't? That made no sense.

"Yeah," you continued. "Even if you delete the app, it'll still ring. Once you create a profile, you can't turn back."

That..sucked. And why were you apologizing? Bakugou thought. None of this was your fault.

"Well I guess you're stuck with me then," you joked.

Bakugou looked at you. "You're no bother."

He looked away but still noticed the surprise on your face.

"Really? I mean, training isn't too bad with you. I think we've both improved a lot."

Right. Training. He didn't care about your quirk or how compatible it was with his. He already knew all that. He wanted to know who you were. Your favorite food, hobby, cafe. And now was the best time, he felt.

And so as you trained, Bakugou let himself open up and he welcomed your attempts of small talk, listening intently to every word you said. Conversation flowed naturally out of the two of you and you wondered why it was never like this. Bakugou was someone who was so easy to talk to, even if it didn't seem like it. He probably just took some time warming up.

Over the next hour, Bakugou was able to learn more about you as a person. He felt like he was finally meeting you for the first time. It made him wonder too, why it took him so long to let you in. And to think that all he needed was a push from some app.

A half an hour had passed and training was going well. You were both drenched with sweat but adrenaline rushed through you and you eagerly welcomed it. It was times like this that made you energized. You could forget about every worry you had and focus on the moment, on the fire coursing through your veins.

You dodged a blast directed at you and almost froze it in time when you felt a kick to the back of your knees. What? How'd he get behind me so fast? Your legs gave out underneath you but a pair of strong arms were able to catch you before you met the ground.

Looking up, you made contact with a pair of red eyes staring down at you. He was close, very close. And only now did you notice how handsome the man in front of you was. His jawline was sharp and his nose had a perfect slant. He even had a few tiny freckles that spotted his cheeks. And..a small tint of pink.

Bakugou raised you upright and you both turned away. No doubt, your own face was rising with color.

Holding out a hand, Bakugou helped you get up and you were, once again, in very close proximity with the blonde. This time, you didn't look away. Instead, both your heads leaned in close until your lips touched and it felt..right. The kiss was short and left you wanting more. Bakugou had soft lips and he was surprisingly a good kisser.

For a second there, neither of you looked away. Your hand was still in his and your chests were almost touching. Then, as if realizing what just happened, you separated quickly. Bakugou cleared his throat and decided to call it a day. You nodded, suddenly feeling tired.

It didn't take long for the two of you to crave the other's lips, however. You found yourself in front of his door, asking him to tutor you before the next test. He would then make you dinner after a rough session, even if he was tired himself.

It soon led to lunch in the cafeteria together and hanging out with his friends. One day, he officially asked you out. You agreed, of course, and just like that, the hole that a certain someone had opened inside you was completed.

---

It’s been 2 years and you’re gathered around, taking your memorable graduation pictures. Bakugou’s got an arm around you and you’re both holding a bouquet of flowers his parents gave. The sun beating above you is burning through your black cloaks, making you look forward to that cold drink, sitting patiently at your favorite cafe with beads of water dripping down its shaft.

Looking across the parking lot, you can see other families and your fellow classmates crowding together for a picture to be framed, bright faces smiling behind a glass.

Todoroki holds his diploma tight and places a hand on top of his cap, not wanting the wind to blow away his hard work, his time in U.A., his memories. And looking back at the building behind him, he could feel all of them flooding back. Some were good, some were..best not to mention.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and Todoroki pulls it out. Speak of the devil. There was a message from love alarm.

Todoroki Shoto, a spear has been gifted to you.

A love alarm spear: all effects from the shield previously gifted will be erased.

You may not request for a shield after this transaction.

Would you like to use it?

Fingers hovering over the screen, Todoroki ponders. He's in a relationship with Momo. Would using this break them apart? He had asked her out without thinking one day and they had started from there. It took time, but they worked well on the field, quirks and minds blending together.

He doesn't regret asking her out, they have their good times. But he thinks about his future and if he really sees her in them. Yes, of course she'll be there. To say the truth, Todoroki just wants nothing to do with this app anymore. It gave him a new start and he'll end it at that.

Tapping the red letters on his screen, Todoroki tucks his phone away to lean in close to his girlfriend, smiling for yet another picture.

Hand in hand, you and Bakugou head towards his car, where Congratulations! has been written across the back window with marker. Flowers and their petals litter the exterior of the car as if the two of you had just gotten married.

Placing your bouquets and diplomas safely in the backseat, he drives you away, rolling down the windows as the two of you yell out your goodbyes to your classmates, promising to meet soon.

The air is nice and the wind blowing from the fully opened windows whips back your hair and kisses your face. Out on the sidewalks, people are biking around, enjoying the weather on this lovely day. It makes you smile, how content you are at the moment. You have your boyfriend next to you, a cold drink patiently waiting, and a bright future ahead of you.

Bakugou glances at you and upon seeing your smile, he spreads one himself.

There are many things that Bakugou can put on his list of things he appreciates. The first bullet point, no doubt, would be your name in his scratchy but still readable writing, followed by several skipped spaces and then a list of the names of his friends. Except it doesn’t stop there. Below your name in those skipped lines there is an indented bullet point where little moments or traits of your relationship are written down. Here are a few:

Y/n, I love them and I love that they remind me that they love me back

Y/n, I love them and I love that they support my goals

Y/n, I love them and I love that they are strong and independent

And it could go on and on. He’s still adding more to it to this day.

a/n: wow I'm like proud of this but the romance is where??

bnha masterlist

[babyboibucky]

Deserve Better

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky disappeared and came back only to say goodbye.

Word Count: 2,887

Warnings: angsty angsty angsty angsty angsty

A/N: Post-endgame timeline with lotsa angst! Included Andy Barber here because why the fuck not but he’s really not a major character lol

Deserve Better || Undeserving || Deserve The Best

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

The day you got Bucky back was the same day he said goodbye. He left you— said it was for the best— just as when your fingertips touched him for the first time after five years of longing.

Your reunion with Bucky after the snap was nothing like the movies, far from it actually. A lot of things happened when he was snapped back, in between the battle with Thanos and Tony’s funeral. Besides, you weren’t an Avenger; you didn’t work for SHIELD nor the CIA. In fact, you remained oblivious of the battle that was going on until the moment of chaos caused by the sudden reappearances of half of the world’s population.

And then you received a message from Steve, about the tragedy and the sacrifice of Tony Stark. He was inviting you to the funeral and as much as you felt devastated from the loss of a hero, you couldn’t help but focus your attention on the last line of Steve’s message.

Bucky’s going to be there too. He’s back. He needs you to be there with him.

It wasn’t until the funeral was over that you finally got to have Bucky all to yourself. You had locked gazes when you arrived and staring back into his beautiful blue eyes again made your knees weak.

Bucky was really back.

“Hi.” He greeted you first, his voice remained the same— soft and gentle.

One word was enough to make you feel the warmth of his existence. Hearing him, seeing him again felt like finally coming home after a very long, tiring day.

“Hi, Buck.” You whispered.

Bucky’s smile was all it took for the dam to finally break. You’d burst into tears right then and there and you were more than ready to feel his arms around you after years of hugging yourself to sleep during his absence.

But the warmth never came. If any, Bucky stopped himself from doing so. You frowned when he took a step back from you, extending his metal arm to keep you at a certain length away from him.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered, refusing to meet your gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I have to go.” He explained, gently squeezing your arm before rubbing circles on your skin using his thumb.

You didn’t understand why Bucky needed to go when he just got back. You just got him back. You had spent years crying over his disappearance only for him to come back and disappear again?

Bucky explained that he thought he got better but things have become so vastly different after the snap that it left him feeling broken and different again. He told you about Steve’s decision to go back in time, never to return again. How Tony’s death made him feel like it was too late to set things straight and how he would probably carry the guilt and regret from not being able to apologize for what he had done.

“I’ll help you, Buck. We’ll work through this together. I want to be by your side when things get better.” You insisted, tears blurring your vision as you tried to reach for Bucky, wanting to feel him again after such a long time.

But Bucky kept on moving away from you, he kept on pushing you away and you wanted to understand why he wouldn’t let you touch him.

“I’ll only hurt you, I don’t want that to happen. I want to get better because you deserve better. But I can’t do that with you because this...this is something that I gotta figure out by myself.” He further explained.

You shook your head, unable to accept his decision. “Buck...I don’t think I can lose you again. I just got you back...I can’t afford to lose you again, please?”

When you attempted to reach for Bucky’s hand, he finally let you. You quickly entwined your fingers through his metal ones and savored how they felt against your skin. They were cold as usual, but Bucky always oozed a certain warmth that made you feel safe.

But now they’re just that— cold and hard.

“I love you. I’ll wait, Bucky.” You murmured and tugged at his hand before he could even let you go.

Bucky smiled sadly at you, “You don’t have to, doll.”

You shook your head and brought Bucky’s hand to your lips as you cried, “I want to. And I will.”

Pressing one final kiss on his hard knuckles, you watched Bucky slip his hand away from yours before turning around to leave. You felt your chest tighten as if you lost all the oxygen in your lungs the same way you lost Bucky.

Losing him the second time around proved to be even more painful. Because this time, he didn’t just disappear.

He walked away.

-

You waited for Bucky to come home to you for days and weeks until they turned into months...and then years. Still, no Bucky walked through your doorstep but you never stopped hoping.

Sleep was such a rare occurrence to you since Bucky walked away. How do you honestly cope with the loss of someone when you haven’t even healed yet from his first disappearance? You wanted to get mad at him, curse him for suddenly deciding to leave you. But you felt selfish for even thinking about that, because Bucky left to better himself.

To be better for you. He said so himself.

So you kept waiting for him to come back. You made it your reason to keep going. You looked forward to the day you’d hear your door open followed by his heavy foot steps. You wondered, would he smell the same then? Would he still be using your favorite perfume on him? One that smelled like cedar wood and mint and well, Bucky. Would his hair still be of the same length? What about his beard? Would he shave them off before coming back home?

How about his gaze? Would his blue ones still look at you as if you were his moon?

As much as these thoughts made you miss him more, they were the ones that you held onto. They were like your glimmer of hope on nights you were the loneliest, on nights you cried and dreamt of his return only to wake up to an empty, cold space beside you.

You held onto these thoughts every single day in hopes of them becoming real soon enough.

People have told you to move on, to not waste your time waiting for someone who walked away just like that. But you trusted Bucky when he said he wanted to be better because you deserved better. You couldn’t move on, not from Bucky.

You love him with your entire being, so much that his absence caused you physical pain too. You couldn’t even find the right words to describe how much you love Bucky.

In the three years that you spent waiting, you’d met a lot of people too. People who showed interest but none of them really won you over.

You’d met a man named Andy through work. He was a lawyer and was dealing with his own divorce. The connection was there and you wouldn’t deny that.

Two people dealing with the grief from losing someone they love, it wasn’t that hard not to find a common ground. And you did find some solace in Andy and him in you. But it was just that, nothing more and nothing less.

“How has it been?” You asked Andy after he had settled into the booth across of you.

The restaurant was surprisingly scarce on a Sunday morning. Usually there were plenty of customers, their chatters overpowering the soft music playing in the background. Now, it was peaceful and the radio was turned off. There were only the clinks of plates of being set on tables and the footsteps of the staff walking around the place as they attended to the few customers around.

It was serene and peaceful, pretty much like Andy’s aura when he arrived.

“I wouldn’t say I’m fine but I guess I’m at a much better place now than before.” He said with a nod, as if he was finally agreeing with himself after questioning his emotions for the past few months.

You offered a kind smile and placed a hand on top of his, “It shows, Andy. I’m glad. I’m happy for you.” You said.

He had been going through a lot of emotions since he signed the divorce papers. He didn’t want to but knew it was for the best. Andy had a son, Jacob, and he didn’t want for his son to grow up in an environment where his parents no longer slept on the same bed. As much as he loved Laurie, the relationship was no longer working and was becoming toxic the more they stayed together.

“And you?” Andy asked back before calling the waiter.

You let out a deep breath, “Still waiting.” You chuckled as your stared at your hand that remained on top of Andy’s.

Andy spared you an apologetic glance but nodded, “I do hope he knows how lucky he is.” He said, turning his palm up so he could hold your hand.

To others, the gesture may seem romantic but it really wasn’t. You and Andy both knew that despite the similarities and the comfort you found in each other, the both of you were not meant to be together in that way.

Your heart still belonged to Bucky after all.

-

When you received an invitation from Sam Wilson, you felt confused and excited. There was going to be a huge gala at the compound to honor Steve Rogers’ legacy as Captain America.

You’d heard the news about Steve’s passing not long after he went back in time. He finally got to live the life he deserved and when he came back, it was as if everything had been corrected. He may no longer be the super soldier that many knew but he remained the same person— but he wasn’t the man out of time anymore. Despite his white hair and wrinkles, Steve looked the happiest he had ever been.

You wondered how Bucky coped up with such a huge loss, you always worried for him.

It sparked debate though, Steve’s decision to leave the Avengers. Some got angry, said that Steve was selfish for doing that. Others showed sympathy, that Steve didn’t owe the world anything. He’d spent a lifetime fighting for everyone. It was time that he fought for himself and what he deserved. And Sam fought just as hard for Steve’s legacy and finally, all his hard work finally paid off.

What confused you was whether Bucky was going to be there? Does he know about the gala? Was he finally back? If he was, why hasn’t he come home to you yet? You had so many questions that you wanted to ask.

The answers though, were literally in the palm of your hand— the invitation.

-

It was no surprise how big the gala was. Just on your way inside, you’d already come across a lot of big personalities. There were politicians and popular celebrities too. You felt intimidated given that you went by yourself and that you weren’t really part of their world.

You were just you, someone who had fallen in love with one Bucky Barnes who introduced you to the world of superheroes. The rest was history.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” You turned around and found Sam approaching you with a huge smile.

You embraced him and smiled as you pulled away, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” You told him.

It was Steve and Sam that you’d met first and they were nothing but kind to you. Despite being well, ordinary, they welcomed you like their own when Bucky had introduced you.

Sam’s expression changed at your response, “I honestly thought that you wouldn’t show up after Bucky said—“

“Bucky?” You immediately cut him off upon hearing his name.

“Bucky’s back?” You asked and Sam had never looked more confused as ever.

He carefully nodded, brows knitting together as he frantically looked around. “I thought you knew about it.”

“How long? How long has it been since he came back, Sam?” You probed, feeling your throat constricting at the unexpected revelation.

Sam merely looked at you with what seemed to be pity. Why? Why was he looking at you like he was sorry? And why didn’t Bucky tell you when he came back? Was he simply not ready? Or was he waiting for the right time?

“Sam, how long?” You asked again, voice firmer this time around.

“A year ago. He decided to join the Avengers but wanted to undergo formal training before taking on the responsibility of one.” He responded.

You opened your mouth to say something but it’s as if your whole body was paralyzed. He had been back for an entire year now...and yet he kept you waiting?

A hand on your arm pulled you back to the surface, looking up at Sam you shook your head in utter confusion.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”

Sam sighed, “I thought you knew. He said he saw you and—“

Sam’s words died on his tongue when he saw that your attention was no longer on him. Following the line of your sight, Sam turned around and saw that Bucky had walked into the venue. He swallowed and couldn’t hide the guilt he felt from assuming that you knew about his return. Before he could apologize, you’d brushed past him as you kept your gaze on Bucky.

Why he didn’t inform you of his return was beyond you and to be honest, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about it for now. Because Bucky was right in front of you and it felt like forever since you last saw him.

A lot has changed. He chopped off his hair but he still sported some scruff. Bucky looked closer to his younger self back in the 40’s. You remembered the conversation you had with him about cutting his hair.

“Should I cut it?” Bucky stood in your bathroom, observing his long locks in the mirror as he ran his fingers through them.

You walked over to him, hugging him from behind and pressing your lips on his back before moving to stand beside him.

“Do you want to?” you asked.

Bucky scrunched his nose, “Maybe in the future. I do miss my hair back then.” he smiled.

You chuckled, “Back when Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes used to sweep the ladies off of their feet?” you teased.

Bucky turned to you and wrapped an arm around your wait pulling you closer to kiss your lips, “Hmm, I wanna see if that hair will have the same effect on you.” he said and kissed your cheek.

You hummed as you caressed his face with your delicate hands, “I’d like to see that too, but maybe you should keep the scruff.”

But it wasn’t just his hair that changed. It was his entire demeanor— his aura seemed a lot lighter now, he seemed happier and confident. You knew it for a fact because he wasn’t wearing a glove to hide his metal hand. It was out on display for everyone to see and shake, apparently.

You watched in awe as Bucky interacted with the people around him. He used to avoid eye contact with strangers but now he seemed relaxed doing so. Although he would still open and close his metal hand, something he did whenever he was anxious. The crowd still made him uncomfortable but he’s shown a lot of improvement since then.

The question as to why he never told you about his return continued to linger in the back of your head. But you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling from ear to ear, eyes brimming with tears as you quickened your steps.

Your Bucky was finally back.

And then the world seemed to have stopped when a certain blonde walked over to Bucky, her hand sliding over to his cheek as she leaned up to press a quick peck on his lips.

You knew her of course, Sharon Carter; and you knew about her and Steve. It was Bucky himself who told you about them and how proud he was that Steve finally decided to try his luck at romance. Which is why you felt even more appalled at the scene playing before you.

The way Bucky slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him and how he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. How he was smiling down at her, whispering to her ear as they laughed.

Bucky was in love with Sharon. You didn’t have to ask him that anymore because he was looking at her like she was his moon, his source of light in the darkness.

You knew that because he looked at you the same way, back when you still had his heart.

Suddenly, the questions plaguing your mind found their answers. You understood now why he never came home to you.

He did get better, you could tell that by the way he smiled and laughed.

Bucky was better now, but not for you. At least, not anymore.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar  @bakugouswh0r3

[mochegato]

Heroic Deeds

Thanks to @boldlyanxious and @ive-fallen-down-the-rabbithole for the idea

 Marinette was going to kill her roommate.  Because that’s why she was in this situation in the first place, her roommate was too busy to pick up his own damn paperwork.  And she was just too “nice” to say no.  And puppy dog eyes should be illegal.  In fact, that was the next house rule.  No puppy dog eyes.  She has never in her life been able to say no to puppy dog eyes and mean it.  Manon, Etta, Ella, Adrien… no more!  Hence forth they were banned.  It was already a rule with the kwami.  It would just have to be instituted as a rule with humans as well.

But until then, she had to deal with this ridiculousness.  This thief that sounded like he was bored out of his mind, like she was inconveniencing him by being held hostage.  Is it too much to ask for him to be more invested in this than she is?  I mean, she may be the one with the gun pointed at her, but he’s the one that’s pointing it and he’s the one that broke into the office to steal whatever documents he was halfheartedly looking for during the day instead of at night when NOBODY WOULD BE THERE.  

But noooo, this jackass had to do it during the day and at the exact moment when she would be there. Really, what was her luck?  Was this punishment for not wearing Tikki constantly anymore?  She was only supposed to be in this office for a total of a whole ninety seconds. Walk in, grab the documents that were supposed to be ready and waiting for her, and walk out.  But instead she was stuck here critiquing this idiot’s ransacking skills, because that ninety seconds is exactly when this blasé thief decided to strike.  

At least Kate was safe, she huffed to herself.  Kate had been lucky enough to have gone to the backroom for the documents just a few seconds before Idiot Man came in.  Hopefully, she had escaped through the backdoor and had contacted the police already.  Because apparently Kate hadn’t pissed off the kwami of luck like Marinette somehow had.  She and Tikki were going to have a very long, very hissy discussion when she got back home.

And this guy wasn’t. Even.  Paying.  Attention. To.  Her.  The gun was pointed in her general direction, but it was like she was the furthest thing from his mind, like she held the same threat level as a kitten.  But that was his mistake, underestimating her, because this kitten had claws.  God, she’s been hanging out with Adrien too much.  She’s beginning to think like him.  She let out a breath and banged her head against the back of the chair she was sitting in out of frustration and disappointment in herself.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he was ignoring her to focus on his search, but he wasn’t really paying attention to that either.  She would think he was high on something if there were any other signs of it.  No, this just was just bored, like he was wasting time, waiting for the police to show up.  Maybe it’s the ski mask he was wearing that was annoying him.  Who wears a ski mask in the summer?  And… did he just check his phone!  Oh, Hell no!  That was the final straw.

She moved before she could overthink it, sliding over the desk she had moved behind when he came in. She plowed into his chest with both feet, catching him completely off guard and knocking him back into the filing cabinet.  

“Hey, get off me!” he yelled, sounding more affronted than worried.  

She twisted around and kicked the gun out of his hand with one leg, following it up with a punch that would have broken his nose if he hadn’t blocked it with his forearm, redirecting her hit.  She stopped her momentum before breaking her hand on the filing cabinet.  She pulled her arm back instead striking her elbow directly into his cheek.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, holding his cheek and looking up at her like she was crazy.

He reached for his gun, but she kicked his arm and raced for it herself, kicking it under a nearby cabinet. “That was my gun!” he gritted out, rounding on her.  At least he finally looked invested in this.

“I noticed,” she smirked at him, delivering a roundhouse kick to the face.  He dodged at the last second and shoved her leg, changing her momentum and sending her flying toward the edge of the table.  She squeezed her eyes shut as she braced herself for the impact. If she timed this right, she could use the table as a springboard to go back at him.  The table was solidly built from thick, heavy wood and metal.  It had to weigh several hundred pounds.  It would be able to take her weight without moving even a centimeter.  She took a breath to prepare, but the impact was significantly softer than she had anticipated and didn’t give her the bounce back she expected, causing her to end up sprawled on the floor instead of springing back at the thief.  

Before she had even registered what happened, she heard a grunt in front of her and the sound of the table scraping against the floor as it moved.  She looked up to a red helmet looking back at her.  Her eyes flicked down quickly to his chest as if she needed the confirmation the bright red bat there gave her.  He stood up quickly, rubbing his shoulder as he approached her. He knelt down in front of her. “You okay?”  His voice was considerably softer than she would have anticipated from the vigilante considered to be the most dangerous of the bats.

She stared at him for a few seconds, shocked by the tone and to see him there in the first place.  She had been expecting the police not a bat. It was daytime, everyone knew they didn’t come out during the day.  The bat signal didn’t work during the day.  “Miss,” he tried again, his voice taking on a concerned edge.

“Oh!  Yes.  Yeah. I’m fine.”  She nodded rapidly and reached down to rub her leg where the thief had pushed her, more to relieve anxiety than because it actually hurt.  

“You’re hurt.”  It was a comment, not a question.

“It’s okay, really,” she tried to assure him, but he was already up and stalking toward the thief who had started edging toward the door.  Marinette mentally scoffed at his stupidity.  She understood underestimating her, she was an unknown and looked tiny.  But Red Hood was a known entity.  His threat level was well established.  Why on Earth wouldn’t the thief have run as soon as he appeared?

“Hood…” he started nervously, holding up his hands as though trying to placate him.

Whatever other argument he was going to try to make died on his lips as Hood picked him up and threw him through the large, plate glass, front window.  He stood at the window for a few seconds, watching the thief run away. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to her.  “How badly are you hurt?”  He approached her slowly.  He rolled his shoulder a few times, almost imperceptibly.  If she hadn’t been familiar with trying to hide an injury, she might have missed it.

Marinette smiled at him.  “I’m not. Are you?  Did I hurt your shoulder when I slammed into you?”

“Are you sure?”  He stopped a respectable distance from her.  He seemed to eye her leg suspiciously, but backed off questioning it. “I mean emotionally too.  An incident like that can be stressful for some people.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Please, that wasn’t stressful.  That was annoying.  And you didn’t answer my question.  How is your shoulder?”

Red Hood paused for a few seconds watching her.  “It’s fine.  You weren’t afraid?”

Marinette scoffed.  “No. The most stressful part of this is I’m supposed to be picking up some important documents for my roommate and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get them now.”

“If you didn’t feel afraid of what he would do, why did you attack him?  You could have provoked him into doing something he wasn’t going to do before,” he gently chided her.

Marinette let out an annoyed sigh.  “You sound like my roommate.”

“Sounds like a wise man. Why didn't you listen?” He cocked his head to the side.

She mumbled something into her feet, not making eye contact with him.

He arched his head closer to her.  “What was that?”  She mumbled something again, slightly louder this time, but still not loud enough for him to understand what she said.  “What?”

“Because he pissed me off.  Okay?” she finally yelled in exasperation.

“What did he do to piss you off?” he asked carefully, because if the guy did anything to hurt her, he was going to hunt the asshole down and kill him.

“He was bored,” she growled.  “He was holding me at gunpoint and acting like I was the one that forced him into the situation and it pissed me off, okay.  I mean the audacity!” Red Hood fought laughing at the adorable scrunched up face she made as she talked.  She waved her arms around agitatedly as she spoke.  “You don't want to be here?  Newsflash, asshole!  Neither do I! I mean, if you’re going to threaten me, put some effort into it, you know?  Am I not worth the effort?”

“You are.” Red Hood answered instantly.  “I mean, you seem like you are… from what I can tell.”

“It’s just disrespectful,” she groused, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned against the table.

“Extremely,” he agreed absently, staring at her pouting lips.  “Lucky for you though.  Seems like he underestimated you.  I don’t even think you needed this knight in shining leather to rescue you.”

She huffed out a laugh.  “I already have a knight in shining leather.  Two, actually, if you count my roommate, which I do.  I don’t really need another.”

He motioned like he wanted to take his helmet off but stopped himself.  He positioned his arm on the table she was leaning on, supporting his weight as he leaned closer to her.  “But are they heroes?”  

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.  “I mean… to me,” she added quickly.  She didn’t need anyone making any kind of a connection between her and Chat.

He seemed to contemplate her for a moment before responding.  “You must be quite something to have so many knights willing to fight for you.  But, maybe you can use another, after all they’re not here right now and I am.  I can be your knight in shining Kevlar instead.”

She chuckled, looking down shyly.  When she looked back up, it was through her eyelashes.  “Yes, you are here and during the day too,” she smirked at him.  “I didn’t think you guys could come out during the day.  I thought sun repelled you.”

“You’re thinking of vampires.”

She pretended to study him carefully.  “So you’re stating for the official record that you are not, in fact, vampires then?  Just regular bats.  Interesting.” She looked away nodding as if in thought.  “I’ll have to let my friend know you’re refuting that theory.  She runs a superhero blog.  The vampire Bats theory is one of the more popular posts.”

He chuckled and she could hear the smile through his words. “We aren’t.  Well, I’m not.  Can’t vouch for Robin though.  He’s definitely some kind of cryptid.”

Her face was starting to hurt from trying to contain her smile. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him.  “Although… you could be lying.  After all, you are entirely covered right now… in the middle of the day… in the summer. That’s a lot of leather for a hot day. It kind of looks like you’re hiding from the sun.”  She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

Red Hood stared at her a few more seconds and she was cursing the helmet for an entirely different reason than she usually did.  Right now she was dying to know what kind of face he was making.  Was he smirking?  Was he frowning?  Was he blushing?  Did she make Red Hood blush!  Was he enjoying the interaction or was she annoying him?  He moved over to the window he had thrown the thief through earlier and stopped a few feet from it.  He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his forearm and exposed it to the sun.  “Happy?”

Marinette looked at his forearm for a few seconds, struck by the muscles that were so defined even in his forearms.  The things that man could probably do with his hands… She walked closer and started to reach out to touch his forearm only to snap her hand back at the last second.  Her cheeks blazed brightly.  She cleared her throat lightly.  “For now,” she nodded as casually as she could manage, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“Don’t feel shy, P… rincess,” he smirked at her. “Feel free to feel freely.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, as much to stop herself from reaching out to touch him as embarrassment. “Probably not a good idea to go around groping people you don’t know so….”

“So,” he started quietly, moving closer to her, “you’re saying you want to get to know me better and then you’ll grope me.” He quirked his head to the side as he took another step closer.  “How well do we have to know each other for that?  ‘Cuz, I’d let you do it now, so it’s all up to you.”

Marinette’s cheeks blazed a deep red.  She looked away to collect herself.  While this was fun and Red Hood’s body should be as illegal as his actions, she wasn’t looking to be another notch for him and considering the speed he was moving with someone he just met a few seconds ago, that’s all she would be.  She took a breath and looked back up at him.  “I’m saying… I should find the papers I was sent here for and get them back to my roommate.”

“Let me walk you home.  Make sure the guy doesn’t come back.  I can check the security of your place too to make sure you’re safe,” he offered in a tone that sounded sincere.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Okay?”  He sounded surprised at her answer.  Most women must not say yes to him, which frankly she had a really hard time believing.

“To the walk, not the apartment check,” she corrected him firmly.  “My apartment is safe.”

“Are you sure?  I can…”

“My roommate made sure it’s safe and I trust my roommate more than I trust you,” she cut him off.  “No offense.”

Red Hood was silent for a few seconds before nodding.  “Okay.”

<><><><><> 

Marinette laid down on the couch for a while after getting home replaying the events in her head. No matter how many times she ran through them, they still didn’t make any sense.  The thief didn’t make sense.  Red Hood being there during the day didn’t make sense.  And Red Hood hitting on her… didn’t not make sense, but it definitely dampened the crush she had on him.  

After a little while, her stomach reminded her she had planned to pick up something to eat after picking up the paperwork, which means she hadn’t eaten since the croissant she had at breakfast and it was now dinnertime.  She let out a groan and forced herself up off the couch.  Maybe chopping some vegetables would make her feel better anyway.

She had already started sautéing the onions when the puppy dog eyed man himself finally made it home.  “That smells great, Mari.  Were you able to get the paperwork?”

Marinette blinked at him a few times before narrowing her eyes and pointing the knife she was holding at him.  “You’re not allowed to do puppy dog eyes anymore!”

“What?  Why?  I mean… I don’t… do that,” he trailed off quietly at the glare she was sending him.

“Yes, you do,” she glowered and went back to cutting vegetables for dinner a little more forcefully than she had originally.

“So what happened that was so bad?” he asked carefully.  He moved to sit on the counter, but made sure to keep a fair distance between him and Marinette, or more specifically, her knife.

“The office got robbed!” she exclaimed loudly, waving the knife wildly.  “While I was in it!”

He jumped down off the counter and ran to her.  He grabbed her shoulders and looked her over carefully for any signs of injury.  “Mari!  Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Marinette scoffed.  “No.  I just started trying to take him down when Red Hood interrupted.”

“Red Hood, huh?”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yes, Red Hood,” she rolled her eyes.  “Shut up.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly and took the knife from her hand first.  Once he was fairly safe from getting stabbed, accidentally or on purpose, he continued.  “Did you flirt with him?”

“What?” Her cheeks flared brightly.  What the hell!  Why was he asking her that?  That was not a conversation she wanted to have.  It was hard enough to have normal conversations with him and his tight shirts and charming smile and piercing eyes, but him encouraging her to flirt with other people was really not a conversation she wanted to have.

“Well you… you like him, right?  You said he was your favorite and he was a dilf, even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any kids,” he said nonchalantly as he swirled the onions in the pan.

“Yeah, because he could be my daddy,” Marinette muttered to herself, but apparently not as quietly as she thought she did, judging by the choking sounds next to her.

“What!”

“What?”  The smug smirk making its way across his face told her that her denial didn’t come across as innocently as she had hoped.  “Shut up, Jason.”

“So he made a good impression then?” He asked somewhat awkwardly, which was bizarre for him. “You might even want to see him again?”

She smacked him in the shoulder pausing when he flinched heavily.  She stared at him, studying him closely.  That was where Red Hood had been nursing earlier.  Red Hood, who has the same dimensions as Jason.  Red Hood, who had a still healing cut on his forearm in the exact same spot as the one Jason mysteriously showed up with a few days ago.  Red Hood, who knew her roommate was a he.  Red Hood, who reminded her so much of Jason, which is why she liked him so much in the first place.  Red Hood, who was definitely flirting with her as he rescued her while she was the only one… in Jason’s aunt’s office… after saving her from someone who, thinking back, had the same dimensions and eye color as Roy…

“Oh he made an impression,” she said absentmindedly, still staring at his shoulder.

“A… um, a good one?  He did save you, right?  Heroic deeds and all?  Women love a hero,” Jason added casually.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, letting the pieces settle into place.  Finally, her eyes widened in realization.  “You set it up…”

Jason’s face went blank. “I… What?”

“You set it up,” Marinette repeated with more confidence.  “You… Why?”

“What are you talking about?” Jason tried desperately.

She punched him hard in the shoulder.  “Jesus! Fuck, Pixie.  That hurt.” Jason cried out as he rubbed his aching shoulder.

“Good!  What the fuck?  Why would you do that?  Were you trying to scare me?”

“No!  I was… Because… because you liked Red Hood.  I wanted you to meet him,” he said defensively.  He looked away and took a breath.  When he looked back, his voice was quieter, shakier. “You wanted Red Hood and… and I wanted you so…”

“You know, you could have just, I don’t know, popped up on the roof when I was there or showed up when I was walking home.  You didn’t have to stage a robbery!  Think about all that damage Kate has to deal with now!”

“She was remodeling anyway. She needed to demo the entire office so… two birds, you know?”  He shrugged a little too casually to be casual and flipped the onions again.

“And one bat.” He rolled his eyes at her.  “Or you could have just… said something”

“You weren’t interested in me.  You were interested in Red Hood.”

Marinette let out a long sigh.  “I was interested in Red Hood because he reminded me of you.”

His eyes widened in realization.  “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.  And liking him seemed less emotionally damaging than destroying my relationship with you by flirting.”

“You thought I wasn’t interested?”  He looked at her incredulously.  She looked down at her feet, shuffling them awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact, almost like she was afraid of what he was going to say.  He couldn’t allow that to continue.  He turned off the stove and walked up to her slowly, careful not to scare her, just like Red Hood had earlier that day.  He gently cupped her face, softly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to.  He stroked her cheeks tenderly.  

When he finally spoke up again, his voice was loving and reverent.  “Pix, I’m head over heels.  I don’t think you even… no, I know you don’t know how much or you wouldn’t question why I tried talking to you as Red Hood instead.  I love you, Pix.  I love your heart and your humor and your sass and your passion… and your face.  I love that too.  

“And God, your smiles. I love your smile when you’re happy, which is different than your smile when you beat me at UMS, which is different than your smile when you see a little kitten, which is different than your smile when you’re thinking about home, which is different than your smile after you’ve completed a commission, which is different than your smile when I make an amazing joke that you hate.  I love them all and I just want to see any of them, all of them, every day.”

He didn’t realize how close he had gotten to Marinette’s face until he realized the gasp she let out sounded like it was right next to him.  She laid her hands over his wrists.  “Jason…”

“And I really hope I didn’t…”

“Jason!” she interrupted. He looked at her wide eyed.  She smiled reassuringly at him.  “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh God, Pixie, you can’t imagine how happy that would make me,” he smiled down at her, lowering himself so his lips were close enough for her to reach.

She grinned back up at him as she pushed herself up, her lips a few millimeters from his.  “Oh, I think I have an idea,” she whispered before closing the distance.

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[withcolebrock]

Full of Surprises

Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

Requested: yes!

Summary: Corpse finds out that Y/N secretly knows who he is and his music

Warnings: Swearing, lmk if anything else :)

Word Count: 1,624

Author’s Note: Hello! First corpse piece! I’m trying something new with this piece, just posting it at a different time tehe. I hope you guys like it, I think this is a pretty cute little platonic/flirty friendship corpse and reader tehehehe

~~~

It was a small temporary thing; only for a couple months. She needed a place to stay during pilot season and her friend Dave knew exactly where she could go. He knew his friend Corpse lived near the area and he was needing help on the rent. Dave had been good friends with Y/N and Corpse seperately for a long time. Of course when he heard Y/N needed a place to stay and Corpse needed help on rent, he offered the idea to the both of them. Since they were both desperate  They’ve met a few times prior at Dave’s house but the whole thing felt awkward.

She walked up to the door and hesitantly raised her hand up and knocked. It took a few long uncomfortable seconds before the door was pulled open. She smiled up towards him, as she met his eye. Her heart began to beat faster. He smiled nervously as he showed her into the house. “Hey,” he mumbled.

He shut the door behind her as he shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Hi,” she smiled as she looked over the small apartment. It was small and well put together.

“So-uh, this is my place,” he said nervously, he let out a laugh. She laughed along with him, the awkward tension began to dispait.

“It’s nice, I like it,” she smiled towards him as she continued to shift her gaze around the apartment.

He started to show her around the apartment. The main living area was open concept, so he just walked aimlessly in a circle through the kitchen, dining area, and the living room. He opened the fridge to show that there wasn’t much food in it, “I don’t cook, I’m really bad at it, so sorry about that,” he giggled as he pushed it slightly watching it shut on it’s own. She laughed along.

“Don’t worry, I can cook for you,” she let out, her face smiling widely. He continued the tour, showing her his room. His room was extremely clean, besides the few empty water bottles. They didn’t stay long in his room, instead he walked passed a closed door heading towards the guest room; where she would be staying.

He pushed open the door, “This is your room, and you can do whatever you want in there, like, I don’t know, throw a rug in there,” he sighed as they both walked into the room. She giggled slightly. She was glad that the apartment was simple. She rested the suitcase in front of the bed.

“Thank you for the little tour,” she smiled as she looked up to him. He smirked as he nodded slightly. His eyes widened as he quickly stepped out of the room.

“Just real fast, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t go in this room. It’s just-I-uh yeah,” he stuttered as he rested his pointed finger on the door. He forced a smile, but she can tell that he was worried. It didn’t bother her, this whole idea of the secret room. It was his apartment and of course she was going to respect that.

“No problem, I completely understand,” she smiled widely as she shoved her hands in her hoodie pocket. He slowly leaned his body away from the door as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“Do you want me to help you unpack?” he asked, his heart beating fast. Nodding her head, she walked backwards back into the room she would be staying in. She knealed down and began to unzip the small suitcase filled with enough close for the next few months. He stood beside her, waiting for her to hand him the clothes. “Wait, I never asked you what pilot season meant,” he laughed, “I just was like ‘I don’t know what that is but sure,’” he explained. She giggled while handing him a few of her t-shirts. He walked over to the closet and began to hang them up.

“It’s basically where a bunch of networks are trying out new shows, it’s exciting especially for new actors and stuff,” she explained excitedly. Every so often he would shift his gaze towards her, noticing how much her face lit up when she spoke. “Except half the shit doesn’t get picked up by the networks,” she mumbled afterwards as she laid out a hoodie and shorts she was going to wear later. Chuckling, he reached for another piece of clothing from her.

After they unpacked all of her stuff, they ordered pizza and they sat down to watch TV together. They talked for hours, simply getting to know each other. She would go in grave detail about what she was hoping to get out of the next few months, he would sit and listen to every detail. He loved that she was easy to talk to; he was grateful because the next few months would have been extremely awkward.

She didn’t ask too many questions about his personal life, yet something was starting to click. She recognized him, she never noticed it before but as she sat down next to him she realized how she knew him. She should’ve realized it sooner, from him being friends with Dave but she didn’t. She recognized his voice through his music.

After spending hours of them sitting together and learning about each other, the fact didn’t really matter to her. He didn’t want her to know about it and she didn’t bring it up.

~~~

The past couple of weeks had been great, herself and Corpse were getting along great. Their energies and jokes were always bouncing back and forth between each other. They spend hours at night together watching TV, mostly reality TV because they find it hilarious. She really enjoyed her time with him and she believed he was feeling the same way.

Corpse was up late working, she heard him around one in the morning leaving the room he told her not to go into. After everything he’s done for her, she thought she would do something nice for him.

After waking up early she left the apartment and headed to the store. It wasn’t much, but she thought he would appreciate it. She spent a few hours filling her cart with different types of food, to stock the house. Mostly so she can spend time with Corpse to teach him how to cook. Especially after a brief instant where he burnt toast, she couldn’t comprehend how. She teased him about it for hours.

It was a short drive home as she listened to her playlist on shuffle. She shoved her phone in her back pocket as she kept her music playing. She grabbed as many grocery bags as she made her walk into the apartment. It was nine, early for Corpse, she hoped all the groceries and her other plans would be done by the time he woke up.

After a few minutes, she had put all of the groceries away and she began to start cleaning the kitchen. It wasn’t messy, it just needed a few dishes cleaned and other simple stuff. Her phone began to play one of Corpse’s songs, she almost turned it off but she realized that he was asleep and wouldn’t know.

She placed the clean plates in the cabinet as she sang along to his song, Miss You!. She shut the cabinet as she turned around to walk towards the fridge to see Corpse standing behind her. Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped. He stared at her with his eyebrows knitted together harshly with his arms crossed over his chest. She rushed to her phone to shut it off.

“You know who I am?” he asked, he sounded hurt. He didn’t know how she found out, but it was starting to make him upset. He loved when people in his real life didn’t know what he did, he felt safe and comfortable with the idea. A billion ideas started flooding his head, what if she releases what he looks like? There goes every ounce of privacy he had.

“I’ve listened to your music way before I even thought about living here, I promise. I mean I didn’t even make the connection until the night I moved in,” she explained quickly. He stayed silent as he took a small step towards her, “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Her voice started to get quieter. She avoided his gaze as she kept her gaze to the floor.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “You haven’t told anyone how I look right? It’s just really important to me to keep all that private I guess,” he let out a dry laugh to cover his nerves.

“Of course not, I would never hurt you like that,” she said. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, she watched as his features softened. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you-”

“No I understand why you didn’t, and I respect it,” he took another step closer to her, she felt her cheeks flush slightly. After a few long seconds of silence of soft eye contact, he lets out a small giggle. He shifted his gaze to the floor, “So, which song is your favorite?” she chuckled while rolling her eyes playfully.

“Miss You!, I really like the beginning,” she explained, he smirked as he shook his head.

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to listen to my music,” he let out as he walked over to the fridge. He pulled it open seeing the variety of food in there, his mouth dropped. He pointed to her and then back to the fridge several times, she giggled.

“I’m full of surprises,”

[mrspasser]

You’ve got the love I need to see me through - Baby in the Pack

Chapter 1/13

1.

Derek is doing the dishes with Stiles that Saturday night. It's the first weekend of summer break and the whole pack is home for the summer. The ones that left for university anyway, the ones that went to the local community college in town never left, of course. Erica and Boyd share a small apartment in town and Isaac still lives with Mrs. McCall most of the time. Weekends are for pack, though, and the large Hale house in the woods is filled with young adults in high spirits. Derek feels the strong connections between him and his pack, wolves and humans alike. It makes his chest expand and his body sing; he feels like running, racing through the woods of the Preserve. There's an energy to him that needs to be unleashed, whether it's by running, fighting or fucking. He hasn't had to fight a real fight in a long time and with his pack home he will not go looking for a one night stand in some bar. Not with his loved ones reunited again, not with how happy everyone is to be together once more.

"Earth to Sourwolf," Stiles teases, splashing some soapy suds on him. They have a dishwasher, yet after the copious homecoming meal they had not everything fit inside the machine, even though Derek purchased the largest model. It's so big, Derek often washes his dishes by hand if it's just him and Malia in the house. Even when Isaac stays over they rarely have enough dishes to warrant starting up the machine. It gets used a lot on the weekends though. Tonight Stiles offered to wash if Derek dried. He took the opportunity to update his Alpha on his secondary studies: his training to be the pack's emissary. "Am I boring you?"

Derek realises he'd zoned out. "No, sorry, I -"

"Feeling a bit jittery, huh?" The younger man smirks at him as he plunges his hands in the warm water again. He nods when Derek makes an agreeing sound. "A good run with the pack will fix that."

Stiles always knows how to read him, and it's not just because he's a perfect study in the non-verbal language of Hale Eyebrows (his words, not Derek's). He feels like Stiles knows him, understands him, even back when he didn't understand himself yet. He's come a long way since then, having his own pack grounds him, gives him a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging. And once he had solid ground beneath his feet, felt like he could stand on his own two feet without having to tread water all the time, he started to give back that sense of security to the people who gave it to him. He offered his first three Betas a solid base to fall back on, left them free to explore the world and made sure they knew they could always count on him to be there for them, only to find they never wanted to go far at all. And for the ones that did, like Lydia and Jackson who went to college at the other side of the country, he made sure to keep in touch, to keep them involved in the things going on in Beacon Hills. He found a way to broker peace with his uncle, clearing up their communication as much as possible. Peter would always be a sly one, yet Derek can honestly say nowadays he can trust him to always have the pack's best interest at heart. Thanks to Stiles' relentless efforts he and Scott were also able to finally bury the hatchet between them. The True Alpha has his own small pack with Allison, his mom and a young teen called Liam, but still defers to Derek when there is any supernatural trouble. Not that there was much trouble to speak of, not for the last year or two. Sometimes Derek dared to think things were like they were back when his mother was still Alpha of Beacon Hills. Even better maybe, with the Argent family firmly in their corner.

Derek watches the younger man next to him fondly, pressing their shoulders companionably together when he takes a wet plate from Stiles to dry. He never would have made it to where he is now without this stubborn, brave human. Derek owes him so much, if not everything.

Stiles glances back at him, huffing a laugh when he sees how Derek's watching him. "Such a fucking marshmallow," the young man whispers quietly, more to his own ears than Derek's. Derek hears him anyway.

An hour later everybody is gathered on the front porch of the house. The werewolves are all barefooted and bare chested, except for the girls. Not that Erica is wearing a lot, opting to go for just a sports bra and foregoing covering up with a top like Malia. The humans are dressed in track clothes and running shoes. Derek is still wearing his jeans, but he'll be losing that soon when he changes to his four legged form. He's not the only one of the pack who can, yet he's the only one who will. Being stuck as a coyote for years has made Malia hesitant of transforming fully. Or, as she prefers to explain it: "I've had my fair share of being furry already."

Derek looks out over his pack, the young adults that have been through so much and pulled through. They're all here, except for Peter. Derek knows his uncle will drop by later, unannounced yet not unexpected. And there's Cora, his younger sister. She's still with her pack in South America, but she'll visit like she does every summer. He's supposed to pick her up from the airport in a week.

"Ready, big guy?" Stiles appears at his shoulder, giving him an anticipating grin.

Derek throws his head back in response and howls. It's not the full moon but his pack is here, they're all here and he feels the Alpha energy coursing through his veins. The other wolves join his cry and even the humans join their voices with the rest. The Hale Pack is home.

chapter 2 >

Read it on Ao3 or Wattpad.

Cover image credits

[peachysamu]

Summary: just Grandma Yumie being the greatest wingwoman there ever was

Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader

Word count: 1.08k

Genre: fluff, the usual

You sigh at the screen before you, having been sat at the patio of your favorite café for almost two hours now. Starting your work at seven in the morning, you brought yourself outside a few hours later hoping that a new environment would stimulate motivation to finish your work due in the next couple of days. The fresh breeze is nice and the ambient noise of life ever so lulling, but anything is far more interesting than the assignments in front of you.

Such as the grandma before you scuttling stiffly to fix an imbalanced table tilting back and forth with just the smallest bit of pressure.

“Grandma, do you want to sit here?” You call, standing up with the intention of helping the older woman out. “My table is stable. I don’t mind moving.”

“Oh no,” She smiles through huffs until she successfully places a napkin underneath the shorter leg. She gives the table a small push, a satisfied grin upon her face when it obediently stays put. “I’ve got it.”

At that, you can’t help but smile at the woman whose age is probably older than she looks as you sit back down. Even through her rigid movements, it is obvious she is self sufficient, even if stubbornly so.

Staring back at the screen before you, your fingers hover above the keyboard having lost your sense of thought due to your distraction.

“Thank you for offering.” The older lady calls to you again. You look up to find her, a vision of mirth through closed lids. “That was very kind of you.”

A warm expression, “Of course!”

“I may be an old woman, but I still can do things on my own.” There’s fondness in your chest as she continues the conversation with you. Her words may be strung together slowly, but you’re astounded by the way she creates human connection so easily. Where people your age are consumed by their own selfish needs, protected in a bubble they’ve surrounded themselves in, this stranger easily concocts conversation like she’s known you for so many years. You think the candidness is nice for once.

Grandma takes a sip of her water before continuing. “My grandson has been awfully protective over me lately. He won’t let me do anything.”

You laugh at the way her face scrunches at the last sentence as though her grandson has been the bane of her existence. “My legs were feeling a little tense so I went for a walk the other day. Just a small one to the farmer’s market nearby.”

Now you’re absolutely entranced by the seemingly frivolous story, mindlessly picking at the egg sandwich you ordered hours ago.

“I went and looked around. I found some cabbage that looked nice. And then I stopped at a stall selling okonomiyaki. It smelled so good I had to try some.”

You’re nodding your head, fascinated by the woman’s mundane retelling. The little snippet into her lifestyle reminds you of how large the world is and small at the same time. Though you’ve never met her, and though she is years older than you, you relate to the need of hers to stop at a stall filled with the smell of savory foods.

“Then I get a phone call from my Shin-chan,” Frown lines appear when she says the name with a shake of the head, though you can tell she’s also slightly amused at the thought. “He was not yelling at me, but I could tell he was frustrated. He was asking me where I was. He told me it was ten in the morning and that I needed to get home before it got too hot! He thinks I can’t do anything on my own!”

Grandma is shaking her head furiously, but you’re amused all the same.

“I’m the same way Grandma!” You laugh with a piece of bread on your mouth. “I’m just like that with my mom myself.”

Grandma just shakes her head, indignant. “We’re independent.”

Yes, stubbornly so, you agree in your head before saying, “Of course, Grandma, but it comes from a good place. We just care about you is all.”

Grandma raises a withered hand, the most certain movement of hers you’ve seen yet. “Yes, yes, I know.”

The door of the cafe opens and a broad male figure obscures your view of the older woman as he sets a plate in front of her.

“Sorry, Grandma,” You hear him say, a soft, tender tone escaping him. “They didn’t have any fruit tarts so I hope strawberry shortcake is okay.”

“Oh yes. I was just talking to this nice lady, Shin-chan.”

Said Shin-chan turns around and then gives you an apologetic look. Suddenly, you’re feeling nervous at the sight of the subject of your conversation of the last couple minutes, surprised by the fact that he is more handsome than you imagined.

“Thank you for keeping her company,” He says. You find yourself at a lack of words, gulping and nodding at the same time.

“Ah, Shin-chan,” Grandma’s voice is playfully irritated, “Move to the side. I want to keep talking to the pretty lady.”

It’s then that heat permeates your cheeks, awkwardly letting out a nervous giggle that makes the grandson give his grandmother a quiet, scolding look.

“Grandma,” he starts, but takes the seat next to her anyways to get out of her view, “She’s probably busy. Let’s not bother her.”

“Oh no!” You interject happily, “Your grandma’s actually really interesting. I was having a good time.”

You’re being honest and it’s not because you’re looking for a distraction, or because her grandson is kind of hot. Okay, admittedly, his handsome features were some sort of factor in wanting to continue the exchange.

There’s a mischievous glint in his grandmother’s eyes. She clasps her hands together and the smile across her face tilts lopsidedly into a smirk. “Oh? Would you like to go with me to the farmer’s market then?”

Her head tilts to her grandson, “Since my Shin-chan won’t let me go alone?”

“Uh,” You laugh nervously, eyes flitting between the pair, appraising both reactions. The older woman looks satisfied while the other provides an amused look that is very similar to his relative’s.

“If you go,” He starts, “I guess I will come along too.”

Your heart beats quickly, but your hand is already finding itself closing your laptop. Yes, anything is far more interesting than your assignment. Especially if it’s the handsome, golden eyed boy and his good naturedly stubborn grandma before you.

[plant-flwrs]

Hi, so i was about to send a request, but my phone went all crazy and i don't know if it got send or not ): so here it goes again I was wondering if i could get a George x slytherin reader after the war, where they're dating but all his family disapproves because she had like this "bad reputation", so he gets sad and angry because this boy is super in love with her, and she is like super reserved so his family don't trust her, but she is actually such a sweetheart with him.

family is complicated // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this was so hard writing the weasleys as mean people omg. i love reading fics where everyone is happy at the burrow and molly is an angel so this was like tearing me apart lol. hope you like it!!

summary: The Weasley’s have never liked George’s girlfriend, and one snide remark makes George finally lose it.

also a disclaimer! family turmoil and drama ahead, so if that’s triggering to anyone, don’t read this one! <3

(3.5k)

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The sun was hidden away, tucked behind the dark clouds that littered the sky in London. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, as the heavy curtains to your flat were drawn closed.

The sheets were in a pool around your ankles and your body shivered tirelessly. George always got warm at night and had a habit of kicking off the blankets in his sleep. You clung onto him, trying to collect some of his warmth that oozed from his shirtless chest.

Your eyes opened, feeling awfully heavy in their sockets. You didn’t want to wake up, you didn’t want to get out of bed, you didn’t want to get ready, and you didn’t want to go to the Burrow.

The Weasleys were nice to everyone but you, it felt like. They welcomed Harry, Hermione, and Angelina with open arms, but you and Fleur were the spousal outcasts. The two of you bonded over it quite often, trying to make jokes of it, but really it bothered you both quite deeply. The only difference between you and the other spouses was the green tie you wore around your neck for seven years. You hardly found that to be reason enough for the whole family to dislike you, but they didn’t.

You turned away from your boyfriend, bringing the blankets up from your ankles and wrapping them tightly around yourself. You pushed your face deeper into the pillow, hoping that if you slept all day you wouldn’t have to do the adult thing of going to your boyfriend’s family house. 

George lifted the blankets from his side, moving under them with you. He glanced at the clock on your bedside table, and saw no harm in sleeping a little longer. His warm arms found their place around you, and the two of you fell back asleep with the intentions of avoiding the Weasleys.

“They’re going to be late! I bet she’ll get him into some kind of trouble!” Ginny and the rest of her siblings could hear their mother’s shrieking voice from upstairs.

“They’re still not here?” Ginny turned to face Harry, rolling over in the small bed they shared the previous night.

“ ‘Spose not,” he mumbled bringing two heavy hands to his face and blocking out the sunlight creeping into the room.

“No wonder,” Ginny said, sitting up slowly in bed, “I wouldn’t feel inclined to come if I were her.”

“Well, George loves her,” Harry defended, finding the conversation to be one they had often.

Harry was never one to befriend Slytherins in school, but his maturing age made him able to see past the house’s reputation. He knew you couldn’t be evil if George liked you so much.

“I know he does,” Ginny snapped, “but that doesn’t make her any less,” Ginny trailed off, unable to find the right words for a moment, “weird.”

Harry sighed, feeling awake after the conversation. He brought his feet to the cold wooden floor of Ginny’s childhood room, and placed his glasses on his face. The two went down for breakfast.

“When do you think they’ll grace us with their presence?” Fred teased from his spot next to Angelina at the table.

“Whenever she feels like it,” Mr. Weasley grumbled from the head of the table, his eyes locked on the newspaper in front of him.

Fred groaned, rolling his eyes. He quite liked you. He thought that if his brother liked you, then he should too, and he had no reason to dislike you. Your ‘bad reputation’ that his mother likes to bring up so often, was for the same reason he and George had a ‘bad reputation’. You and George shared a love for mischief, and the Weasleys disapproved.

“When did you tell them to come, mum?” Bill asked from his spot next to Fleur.

Fleur was the one who wanted to know, but she had learned it was better to let Bill do the talking for her with Mrs. Weasley.

“Around supper,” she replied, moving to stand behind Bill and fidget with his long hair. He jerked from his mother’s prying hands.

“Then why are you expecting them to be here now?” Fred asked, ignoring Angelina’s warning graze on his knee.

“Everyone else is!” Mrs. Weasley defended.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell them to get here when everyone else was,” Fred continued, giving his mother a confused look.

“You eat your breakfast, young man, and stop worrying about what I said or didn’t say,” she yelled, darting back into the kitchen to get another pan full of eggs.

Fred caught Bill’s and Fleur’s eyes from across the table and they all looked annoyed. 

You and George finally managed to roll out of bed a little after noon. The two of you stumbled down the cold streets hand in hand, still in your pajamas. You were in search of something to eat for lunch, even though you were both due at the Burrow in a couple of hours. You hated going with an empty stomach, because when you would load your plate up with Molly’s wonderful cooking, she would send you glares. You also hated going on a full stomach, because when you didn’t fill your plate with Molly’s wonderful cooking, she would send you glares. You rather her think you didn’t like her cooking than give her the opportunity to comment on your eating habits. You would watch Ginny shovel serving after serving into her mouth, and all Molly would do is pinch her cheeks and call her adorable. 

You had gotten used to the criticisms pretty early on. You and George were an odd pairing, so you didn’t expect an immediate connection to the family. However, you had figured that after five years they may have warmed up to you, but sadly they hadn’t.

George pulled you into a small café by your hand, leading you to a secluded table by the window. The two of you put in your orders, and enjoyed the serenity before having to go to what was now both your least favorite place.

You wore a flattering sweater tucked into some smart pants. Clasping a delicate gold necklace George had given you for your anniversary last year, you called out to him to see if he was ready.

He came out of the bathroom, hands busy with buttoning his shirt. He was nervous, he usually was when he saw his family these days, and his hands had a shake in them.

“Here,” you said soothingly, running your hands over the wrinkles in the shirt and moving his hands away.

You finished buttoning the shirt, and George admired you.

Here you were, comforting him, when it was you his family didn’t like. You were willing to make more of an effort than his family ever did, and he loved you so much for that.

You stepped away from him, and his fingers moved up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. His rough fingertips grazed the top of your ear as he tucked away the hair. His hand fell down to the necklace you wore, and he twisted it in his fingers,

“I love you,” he whispered, blinking slowly, as if he were trying to remember this moment forever.

George always had the fear that any trip home could be the end for the two of you. He loved you, and he knew you loved him, but he couldn’t blame you if the hatred got too much for you. 

“I love you too, Georgie,” you smiled up at him, forcing away the nausea pooling in your gut.

You went to your fireplace, checking the clock on the wall to make sure you weren’t too early and not too late. The both of you erupted in green flames, and soon the delightful smells of a homecooked meal flooded your nose.

“George!” Ron called from his spot on the couch, spotting you two first.

“Hey,” George responded in a voice you knew was trying to sound happy but came out shaky.

You stepped from the fireplace, and Molly rushed from the kitchen with her apron still on.

“My baby!” she wrapped her arms around George, pulling away and cupping his face with her hand.

He smiled down at her, and you recognized the nerves in the smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Weasley,” you said from beside George, waving and smiling shyly at her.

“Hello,” she started, already looking for something about you to be displeased with.

“Y/n! George!” Bill called, entering the house with Fleur trailing behind him.

You knew they liked to escape to the garden when they had to spend any amount of prolonged time at the Burrow, you and George joined them some times.

“Hi!” you said excitedly, not missing Molly’s scowl in the corner of your eyes.

Bill wrapped his long arms around you, hugging you like a brother. You released him and hugged Fleur next. Those would probably be the only Weasley’s that offered you a hug, as per usual.

“Where’s Fred?” George asked once he was released by his father’s arms.

“He and Angelina went upstairs for a nap a few hours ago,” Molly said, rushing back into the kitchen.

“Did you want any help, Mrs. Weasley?”  she turned on her heal, gave you a fake smile, and shook her head.

If anyone else had called her Mrs. Weasley, she would have insisted they call her Molly, but not you.

“A nap? Blimey, how old are they?” George joked.

Laughs echoed around the room, and George wrapped an arm around your waist.

The two of you stood in the living room next to Bill and Fleur, talking with Ron, Harry, and Hermione on the couch.

“Fred tells us the shops going well?” Harry said, looking to George.

“Yeah, we’re doing alright,” George replied modestly. You flickered your eyes up at him, admiring him from where you stood tucked into his side. The shop was doing amazing, it was more successful than it had ever been.

“How’s your work, Y/n?” Hermione asked politely, and an awkward haze fell across the room as they all looked at you.

No one usually addressed you at Weasley family gatherings, so you were caught off guard.

“Good,” you choked out, clearing your throat and furrowing your brow, “it’s good.”

“She was just promoted,” George said proudly from beside you, nudging a finger into your side, “that Slytherin ambition of hers.”

“Really? Congratulations,” Harry said, the first and only person to say anything.

Bill and Fleur didn’t say anything because they already knew. The four of you had taken up having dinners at your flat sometimes, finding it better for all of you than the large gatherings at the Burrow.

“George!” Fred bellowed from the staircase.

He hugged his brother, hitting him on the back as they embraced. You smiled politely at Angelina, who nodded her head curtly at you.

“Y/n!” Fred said once he released George, hugging you.

Angelina’s eyes bore into Fred’s back as he did, but he didn’t care.

You smiled brightly at Fred, feeling relieved to have his happiness there. He and George were always the first to stick up for you when it came to Molly.

“Dinner!”

You all gathered around three tables put together in the garden, watching as dishes of food were levitated across the table. You served yourself food, catching Mrs. Weasley watching you with a critical eye from her spot at the head of the table.

Conversation flowed, though you, George, Fleur, and Bill generally kept to yourselves.

Bill sat at the other head of the table, with Fleur to his right and you to his left. George sat next to you, and the four of you talked like it was one of your usual dinners at your flat. It was better this way, less room for conflict.

All you had to do was make it through desert, which was moved into the house. That was it, one last meal and then you and George could say goodnight and be in the safety of your own home.

“Oh, I don’t think you want any of this dear,” Molly said to you, pulling away with a plate of cake in her hands,

“Mum,” George warned, holding his hand out for the plate while the other wrapped around your shoulders protectively.

You were never one to stop George from sticking up for you, which made Mrs. Weasley angrier. She looked to you, expecting you to give up the fight and not want any cake, but you looked right back at her with a blank look.

“She had an awful lot at dinner, George, she must be full.”

“Mum,” George said, louder and more angry.

“Don’t take that tone with your mother,” Mr. Weasley came from behind his wife, placing two comforting hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that, and I won’t,” he responded, managing to sound somewhat calm, though a sharpness was in his tone.

“Excuse you?” Mr. Weasley questioned, his face becoming stern.

“George, let it go-” Ginny started from where she sat with Harry, the first one to take notice of the argument developing.

“No!” George said harshly to Ginny, whipping his head to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” Fred asked from behind you, shoveling cake into his mouth.

“Mum and dad are being rude to Y/n,” George started, looking accusingly at his parents, “for what? The millionth time?”

Mrs. Weasley gasped, putting down the cake on the counter next to her.

“George!” she exclaimed, prepared to make excusing defenses in her honor.

“It’s true mum,” Fred said from behind his brother, voice muffled by the cake in his mouth, “you’ve been, and usually are, quite rude to Y/n. And Fleur.”

You and Fleur made eye contact, both of your eyes widening as you realized tonight was the night where everything went to shit. No more passive aggressive comments, no more pretending everything was fine. After this, your invitation to the Burrow might be permanently revoked.

“He’s right, mum,” Bill’s cool voice said from beside Fleur, and everyone’s gaze shot to him, “you have it out for Y/n and Fleur.”

You stepped back, and George followed you, his arm still around you. It was like a triangle in the room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the edge of the kitchen, Bill and Fleur by the fireplace, and you, George, and Fred edging nearer the staircase.

“I don’t know what you talking about,” Molly defended, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes you do,” George said, narrowing his eyes at his parents.

“It’s late,” Mr. Weasley said, “maybe you lot should go home now.”

George scoffed from beside you, unwrapping his arm from your shoulder and stepping forward.

“Okay, Fleur, Y/n, why don’t you two go back to our flat,” George said in a soothing voice, “and we’ll talk this out, like a family.”

You fought the proud smile that wanted to spread across your face, and nodded your head. Fred guided you to the fireplace with a hand on your back, and winked at you as you and Fleur erupted in green flames once again.

“Well, this is not going to end well,” you mumbled to Fleur once you got home, putting a kettle on the stove, preparing enough water for George and Bill if they eventually came back too.

The yelling coming from the Burrow was unlike anything the small village had ever heard. Shouts of anger drifted from the windows, and the intensity of the argument could be felt for miles.

“You have no right to treat them the way you do!” Bill shouted at his parents, and also casted an accusing glance at Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Angelina. Harry had sunk into the couch, the only person still sitting as everyone else sprang to their feet. 

“She’s not right for him, and Fleur’s not right for you!” Molly screamed back.

“You don’t get to decide that! I love her, Bill loves Fleur. What’s different about them? You love Hermione, you love Angelina, you love Harry. Why should Y/n and Fleur have to get the shit end of your behavior!” George yelled, waving his hands frantically.

“Y/n doesn’t even try with us!” Ginny interrupted, stepping closer to George, “She just talks to you and Fleur!”

“Because none of you ever gave her a chance! She tried so hard the first time I brought her here, and you all made her leave crying!”

Ron and Harry felt a pang of guilt at the thought of the remarks they had made about Slytherins the first time George took you to the Burrow.

“I don’t trust her,” Molly said, her voice stern but quiet.

“I frankly don’t care, mum. I love her. If you’re going to make me choose, I’ll choose her. Every time. I love her,” George said, his voice lowered and shaky.

“Me too, I’ll choose Fleur,” Bill spoke up, moving his wand from his pocket to prepare to apparate. 

“Boys,” Arthur warned, stepping forwards and trying to soothe the situation, “don’t upset your mother.”

“Let them go! They’ve made their choices!” Molly pouted, moving to sit, defeated, at the table.

“Fine. Send me an owl if you ever come to your senses,” George said, moving towards the fireplace and picking up a handful of floo powder.

“Fleur and I have given you enough chances, don’t send us an owl. Goodbye,” Bill said finitely, apparating before anyone could say anything. 

George hesitated in the fireplace, meeting everyone’s guilty looking expression. No one spoke up, and he nodded towards Fred, saying goodbye. He was back home in seconds.

You and Fleur turned to the men who had both just appeared in your living room. Bill had tears running down his face, and Fleur went to him immediately. Fleur looked to you and you pointed down the hall towards you and George’s bedroom, allowing them a place to have some privacy. George fell onto the couch next to you, and you went to the kitchen to bring him a cup of tea.

“What happened?” you spoke in a soft tone,

George retold everything, and you felt your throat closing as tears threatened your eyes. 

“Oh, George,” you mumbled, taking his tea from his hands and placing it on the coffee table You held him, the both of you feeling exhausted. His upper body leaned into your lap, and you held his shoulders, soothing bits of his hair off his face.

You could hear the muffled voices of Bill and Fleur from your bedroom.

Suddenly, five people apparated into your living room. George sat up, and you grasped his hand as you looked at Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Fred all standing awkwardly in your living room.

“Nice place,” Ron said suddenly, craning his neck to look around the room.

Neither you or George responded and Hermione nudged Ron with her elbow.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his lips going into a thin line.

“We wanted to say something,” Fred said, breaking apart from the group and coming to sit with you and George on the couch.

He turned around, looking at the group.

“We’re sorry,” Harry said first, looking at you, “I should have never said those things about Slytherins, it was stupid and so was I.”

You swallowed hard, eyes downcast at the floor.

“So am I. I actually think you’re quite cool,” Ron said, sounding just as awkward as you remembered him to be in school.

“I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry I stood back and let you get treated that way,” Hermione said next, and you met her sorrowful gaze. You nodded at her, returning your eyes to the floor.

Harry nudged Ginny, who reluctantly spoke, “I’m sorry too. If George loves you, then so do I.”

You smiled at the floor, nerves twisting in your stomach like they did when you first went to the Burrow.

“You guys were idiots,” George said sternly from besides you. 

Your shoulders shook, and George lifted your chin with his fingers. He met your eyes, afraid you were crying, but was happy to see you laughing.

You looked at the group, chuckling senselessly.

“Thank you,” you said, “it’s a shame you’ll have to do that whole bit again for Bill and Fleur, though.”

Everyone laughed, and the group hadn’t realized Bill and Fleur weren’t there anymore.

“Did they leave already?” Fred asked from beside you.

“No, there in our room for some privacy,” you answered, pointing a finger down the hall.

“Ah,” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not like that,” George reached behind you and hit the back of Fred’s head.

You stood, going to the kitchen and retrieving all the mugs you had in your cabinets.

“Need some help?” Ginny asked from behind you, Hermione by her side.

“Sure,” you smiled at them, and Ginny and Hermione moved into the kitchen.

They helped you carry out the hot cups of tea, placing them on the table. Bill and Fleur had emerged from the room, and were sat on the couch. You sat on the other side of Fleur, catching George’s eyes from where he sat on an armchair across from you.

He looked happy, finally being able to sit with his family and you in the same room without nerves plaguing his every thought.