#i was cackling that her way to unlock her form was giving her a new girlboss fit

[spacedogreincarnate]

Local goddess prepares 13 yr old to kill cow god

#i was cackling that her way to unlock her form was giving her a new girlboss fit #fire emblem #fire emblem heroes #fe: heroes #fe:h #fire emblem heroes spoilers #fire emblem spoilers #fe veronica #fe embla

[a-shape-changer-in-winter]

Arm’s Length

I spent last night on my driveway, staring at the moon, listening to the same four songs by Kacy Hill on a loop. There are things about the individual life I treasure and perhaps, selfishly, am not willing to surrender [yet]. My therapist and I have been working through my defects recently. All of which stem from a distorted sense of hyper-individualism and independence. Talking about a struggle after I've mastered it or come out on the other side isn't a form of vulnerability - it's re-packaged perfectionism. She asks why I carry particular things (sustained grief/chronic illness) alone, and I tell her it's easier for me to bear than to show someone else where they need to grasp or lift. Everyone is past their capacity, and I don't feel neglected. She asks me if that's denial or if I've just cut off the part that wants to be seen. I give her the side-eye, and we both start cackling. She knows I'll allow it, to an extent, by a select few. The problem is that I want to control the light that I'm seen by. Most of the time, I'd prefer to maintain my [sense of] independence and individualism and occasionally be coveted by a coterie of former/almost lovers than loved by someone new.

Bess rhetorically asks me if I've idolized Jane Eyre. We talk about that inward treasure [born with me], which has kept me alive when all extraneous delights were withheld or offered only at a price I could not afford to give. I ask her if she thinks I'm hoarding it like a dragon. She snorts. I feel a twinge of guilt in my chest. We return to Rilke's "I'm still alive, I have time to build My blood will outlast the rose." She knows when I first got sober, I needed time to build a life that wasn't painful to live. Then I met someone and started a life with them, only to have it crumble and rebuild (again). And I have spent half a decade building these marvelous rooms in this fourth house that are/were only meant for me. But now, I think I'm supposed to create rooms in my life that are meant to be shared - like a kitchen, sunroom, and greenhouse. And the problem is - deep down, part of me wants to build another private room. 

She tells me that I have to decide what I want. I tell her I want to be left alone more than I want to be loved. She asks me if I'm willing for that to change - I tell her if my life has made me anything, it has made me that. But, of course, there are times that I desire being known so much that I feel disjointed - but I don't let it rip me apart. Ocean Vuong wrote that loneliness is still time spent with the world. I believe anything that goes on forever can be good, and when it's no longer good - it can still be useful [“The solitude into which you were cast so violently makes you capable of balancing out the loneliness of others to exactly the same degree”]. Esther Perel talks about how love wants us to see every facet of each other, but desire requires mystery. Maybe my problem is I'd prefer to remain a mystery. Only unlocked by someone more fated than I. 

Want is a part of everything. We want - all the time. We are engines of want and desire. Sometimes I feel I'm a 6-ft gear turning over and over. "Please let this treatment work. Let me have this one thing." Every prayer is a form of desire, even in its most generous or selfless state [please bring another person healing or peace]. I think it's essential to name and talk about passion, need, and longing because when we do, we can begin to see if it's tormenting or refining us? Sometimes longing is a good thing, the longing to live, to feel good, to heal society, and sometimes longing is detrimental because we get on that hedonistic treadmill and can't get off. We want more and more and more. So I love interrogating desire as a way of exploring what I'm experiencing, sometimes it's true longing, and sometimes it's my way of making myself suffer for no reason. Sometimes I re-invent desire amid my suffering, so it feels tantric. But that can only last for so long before it becomes painful again. 

Which I feel is a place we're all back in, again. More prolonged and, at times, painful waiting. Keats called it negative capability, dwelling with uncertainty without grasping at - or crystalizing around an easy solution. Poems (by Rilke, Mary Oliver, & Gregory Orr) often ask us to live there, and it's unbearable, especially when we had no practice (till recently). Especially if we stopped reading or hadn't gone off by ourselves to sit alone for a while. Even those who write and read all the time were all rushing around before March of 2020. So this forced dwelling, semi-stagnation, not fully comprehending something instantly, is extraordinarily difficult. Because we have to allow these uncomfortable and challenging truths to marinate and perhaps- even pierce us while they transform us. And anything that pushes us into the depths of our being is tough to bear. I find it hard to reach those places entirely by myself. Sometimes I read an essay or poem so beautiful that I have to shut it or close my laptop and walk outside because it stakes me. Sometimes it touches something that has bruised me. It's like I can't stand it. "Oh no! This is going to drive me into my heart." But, a few days later, I can say, "All right", and I surrender to it: "Do it to me. Go ahead. I want it. And when I no longer want it - keep doing it to me until my desire to be changed cleaves and grows like antlers, and I can begin - all over again. "

Bess asks me what I want, and I tell her I want this pandemic to end. I want to stop worrying about new variants and getting blood drawn every six weeks for immuno-response tests. I want healthcare that doesn't have me pay for experimental treatment out-of-pocket. She asks me what I want after that, and I tell her I have no idea (besides climbing another mountain and kissing someone in the rain) - but that enthralls me. I just want to get there. I want to be out of my own way for whenever the road clears. 

#blog #a different format

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Ficlet: "Small Mercy"

A tiny ficlet in homage to @goddessoftechnology's "And Icarus Fell" AU.

Just before the witching hours give out, the cart pulls up to the way stop. It takes some buffeting at the door to rouse Nelia from her sleep, but the old girl has their backs at any hour. They see her candle through the window first, dribbled with three or four waxy beards. Then her nightgowned form emerges from the darkness, bundled up in a tartan shawl. Her bed-tossed hair looks even more mismatched in the play of the candlelight, one lock red, another quite grey.

She unlocks the top half of the way stop’s split door and stifles a yawn. “Top of the morning, fellows,” she murmurs. “Really is the very top of it, isn’t it? What are you at tonight? Jumping the law? Or just hunting?”

“Hunting,” says Arthur, jumping down from the driver’s seat to join the others by the door.

She unlocks the lower half, and steps through. “Got some?”

Arthur shrugs. “Only one. A slight chap, but he’s got a bit of spit and fire in him, looks like. Look here, goodie. The new spot’s another five hours’ drive, and we didn’t get dinner. I know it’s a couple of hours till sunup, but is it too early to put some breakfast on instead of the whiskey?”

“Besides the whiskey,” growls Leon, a maddish glint in his eye.

Nelia crosses her arms and considers. “I just about finished with the last of the back bacon last night, but if eggs and taters and onions will suit, I daresay I might get something going.” She draws nearer the cart with her candle, and gestures at the cart. “Can I have a look?”

“You’re too old for him, lassie,” cackles Joseph, whose trouser leg is properly stained with blood by now. But he pulls the tarp aside.

She leans forward curiously, looking over the sleeping figure in the back. Even under the tarp, his dark hair has gone dewy in the night, and he shivers a little. Nelia passes a hand over his brow, sweeping his bangs aside for a better look.

 “Here now!” cries Joseph. “Don’t touch! You’ll wake him!”

“No more than you will by shouting at me,” says Nelia testily. “No, my garden remedy’s better than ether – the poor lambkin’ll sleep though the morning, however you prod him.” She peers closer. “He’s got a sweetish face. Ooh, look at that jerkin – that’s party clothes.” She ran an inspecting finger over his hand.  “Archer’s callouses, but not a fighter. You’ve gone and nabbed another of those nice little rich boys that never even seen a man get punched in a tavern, I’d say.” She puts the candle down on the back of the wagon, and turns with something gentle in her tone to Arthur. “Shame to pick on them, I say. Why don’t you just dump him a mile down the road in a ditch, and when he wakes up maybe he’ll come down this way and I can send him off home with the next wagon that stops. This boy isn’t cut out for the ring.”

“He got Joseph fair in the leg with a knife,” laughs Leon, elbowing the afore-mentioned so savagely he almost knocks him off balance. “A good underdog’s sure money after the first couple of nights. He’ll earn his keep if he makes it that far.”

Nelia nods, tugging her shawl closer round her neck. She gestures with her head toward the door. “Well, come on in, and we’ll see about them eggs. Bring the lad in too. The damp’s getting to him. Just you lay him down by the hearth for a little.”

Arthur cocks his head. “We’ll only be taking him back out to get cold again in half an hour. He doesn’t even know he’s cold, and won’t know he was warm after he wakes.”

 “No, there’s an awful lot he doesn’t know about what’s happening to him tonight,” Nelia muses, stepping inside. “Bring him all the same. Folk sometimes feel the cold in their dreams. Let him have one last nice sleep before everything changes.”

 “It’s changed already,” Arthur observes, lifting the unconscious man over his shoulder.

“So it has. Well then, one last nice sleep before he changes.”

#king's quest #kings quest #king graham #and icarus fell au #not my oc's #except Nelia #my writing

[neesieiumz]

Sorry {Izuku Midoriya x Reader}

[Pro-hero!Izuku Midoriya x Former Pro-hero!Reader]

[P A R T O N E] [P A R T T H R E E]

L E A V E.

Based on the song Sorry by Beyonce

Summary: You couldn't hold your tongue after all. It was a long time coming anyway. A long time coming.

A/n: So I still have special plans for this one! However, this became so long that I had to switch my original plans! So there's actually gonna be a third part to this one as well! I'm turning this into a limited series, like those shows on Netflix. So enjoy this part two of Pray You Catch me!

Word Count: 5.2k

"Now you want to say you’re sorry, now you want to call me crying"

“Good Morning sweetheart.”

You stiffened at his gruff morning voice, hearing him walking barefooted into the kitchen. YOu currently cooking over the stove, fluffy omelets currently cooking through butter, and a plate of pancakes sitting on the counter beside you. YOu glanced over at him ambling into the kitchen, wearing no shirt and his pajama pants hanging dangerously low. You glanced over his half-naked body, glancing over the many healed scars from all the villain fights he’s been through. You shook your head and turned back to the food you were making. You could hear Izuku stop in his tracks, his eyes raking over your slightly hunched-over form over the food.

“Y/n? Is everything alright?”

“Her? Oh, you don’t have to worry about her doll.”

You took a deep breath and shook your head, turning off the stove and turning towards him, giving him a half-fake, half-real smile. Pulling your robe tighter, you walked over to your husband, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling yourself up along his tall stature. He responded by wrapping his own arms around your waist. He smiled as you placed a longing kiss on top of his lips.

“Everything is perfectly okay, are you staying for breakfast?” You asked him, tightening your grip around him as he carried you back over the stove.

He hummed positively, “I have some time to kill before I head, so I thought why not finally join my wife for breakfast?”

“She and I… haven’t been working out for a while. That’s where you come in.”

You took a deep breath, taking the pan from the stove as he put you down. You asked Izuku to get two plates and two glass cups for juice so you could ration out the pancakes and eggs. As you put the food onto the table, you could feel Izuku wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his own body. He placed his head in between your shoulder and necks and rifled his face in the crevice, blowing raspberries into your skin. The action caused you to giggle, nearly dropping the serving spoon you were young to pate the eggs. Izuku looked over your shoulder and noticed that you were done putting the food on the plates, so he let go of you, and reached over to take them off the counter.

“Here, let me help you.” He turned around swiftly, heading towards your dining room.

“The way you walked, it just…. pulled me in.”

You reached up to set your neck, popping some of your joints to relieve some of the tension slowly building. You then turned to the cup cabinet, reaching down to turn on your kettle, at the same time as you reached for your favorite cup. You stopped mid-way of grabbing it, remembering exactly what the cup looks like. It was a custom, gifted to you by Ejirou for you and Izuku's own wedding anniversary, it was a mix of both your and his hero colors. He got you both one, the designs were so intricate that no one could get them from anywhere, they were one-in-a-kind pair. Yours was dominated by Izuku’s hero colors, which were green and white, while Izuku’s was dominated by your own hero colors, (h/c) and black. You took a deep breath before continuing the reach for the cup, wrapping your fingers around the handle.

“Izuku, can you get the sugar cubes from the pantry, please? Along with a packet of tea?” You asked him as the light went off in the kettle, the water already bubbling and boiling.

You heard a hum of acknowledgment before hearing him drag his feet over to the other door in your kitchen. You poured the hot water in the mug, hearing Izuku come up beside you placing the small bag of sugar cubes, and teabag packet beside you. As you took the packet the teabag was in, placing it on your tea, Izuku leaned towards you and placed a kiss on your cheek, the feeling of slightly chapped lips leaving a slight tickle.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Of course you know I enjoyed our time together.”

You just smiled softly at him, grabbing the small bag of sugar, and the mug, before falling into step with him to your dining room, which was connected to your kitchen of course. You looked at the rectangular table, finding Izuku placed the plates on the long side of the table, opposite of each other, making the usual gap between the two of you much shorter. You took a deep breath, pacing your mug and bag of cubed sugar beside your own plate. You took your seat, sweeping your robe from under you to allow you to sit comfortably. Izuku took his own seat opposite of you, deciding to drink orange juice with his food.

You made sure to say grace, before beginning to dig in.

It was quiet, nothing the sound of metal forks and knives hitting scratching against plates. You liked the silence, but all you could do is wait. Wait for that one thing to ruin this small vacuum of sweet yet sullen silence you haven’t had with him in so long.

You knew it was coming. It always did.

Ding!

Izuku jumped slightly as the ding came from his pocket. You followed his hands as he reached down and pulled out his personal phone from his left pocket. Your gaze shifted from his hands to his face as he unlocked the phone, to see who exactly texted him. His facial expression changed into a soft, long one, and that was it.

“Of course you know I enjoyed our time together.”

“God you look amazing tonight, and you wore my favorite color too.”

“The way you walked, it just…. pulled me in.”

“Her? Oh, you don’t have to worry about her doll.”

“She and I… haven’t been working out for a while. That’s where you come in.”

“With you… I feel a breath of fresh air, something new.”

“I love you too Doll, I have to go before she sees I’m not in bed.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, good night doll.”

“Is that her?”

Izuku froze. His head slowly craned up to look up at you, to find you looking straight at him with cold, dead eyes. You slowly placed your utensils down and reached over to grab the cup of tea, the bag of sugar cubes, and the long teaspoon you placed on the table to stir.

“You still didn't answer my question, Izuku.” You looked down, twirling the spoon in between your hands.

“What,” he cut himself off as he swallowed some spit, “what do you mean by “Is it her?”?”

You couldn’t help the cackle that echoed throughout the entire house, dropping the spoon onto the table as you hunched over onto the table. The air was only getting tenser and tenser with every dry chuckle that escaped your mouth. You used the table as support, placing your hands on top of your forehead.

Izuku’s heart was racing, there was… there was no possible way that you knew about them? He could feel himself start to sweat from all over, the once impeccable taste of the syrup and eggs from the breakfast you made now beginning to taste like ash. He could feel his mouth drying up, and his fingers started to twitch involuntarily. A telling sign of his nervousness from the overuse of his quirk. He slowly placed his phone down, waiting for you to actually finish laughing. You were laughing, right? Which means that you were just joking with him. Right? Right?

Once you finished with your laughing spell, you leaned back into your chair, taking a deep breath before looking back at your overly anxious husband. You smiled wickedly at him before picking up your spoon once again.

“I heard you, last night, in your office.”

Izuku’s heart dropped to his stomach. It was inevitable really, he, out of all people knew that he couldn’t keep a secret. It only reminds him of his time in U.A and how Bakugo found out about his true quirk.

“Sweetheart I-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

The air was tense, you pulled up the robe you were wearing, you could feel it slipping with every movement you made. Deku could no longer look at your eyes, those eyes which were once filled with joy and love for him and for him only. They were now cold and filled with pain, anger, and disdain for his every being.

“What’s her name?”

Izuku continued to look down refusing to speak, while you just sat there waiting for his answer. You then grabbed the spoon next to the cup of tea that you made for yourself, dropping a couple of sugar cubes in the small mug before stirring it slowly.

“Well,” Izuku jumped at your sharp tone, “I’m waiting? What’s her name? Who was able to “snatch” you away from me?”

You slowly placed the spoon down before picking up the cup and taking a small sip of the calm, sweet liquid. You looked on at your trembling husband, whose tears were slowly falling from his eyes. You could feel your heartache at the sight of your love but you also knew that your stare had to remain cold stare. So it did.

“Her name-her name is… is…”

“Spit it out.”

“Do you… do you remember Melissa?”

Melissa…

“Y/n, you have to meet someone!”

You had just transferred into Class A, and you and Izuku hit it off just as friends, for the time being, You had already found your place in the class and it was like you were always with them. The two of you decided to arrive at this private hero gala on I-Island, him tagging along with All Might and you tagged along with Mirko. Some of your classmates were here as well, Bakugo, Kirishima, Jirou, Mina, and others. This was your first time here on the island, only hearing about their adventure from their own time on the island from Izuku and the others. You were wearing a black, ruched t-shirt that had long, flowy sleeves along with some simple black, leather pants.

Izuku pulled you over towards another girl, you had long, blonde wavy hair pulled into a slicked-up ponytail. She was wearing a lavender, silk dress that stopped right at her ankles. She saw Izuku coming to her and you could see her perk up, before following her hands and seeing that he was also pulling you over. You saw her face fall once her eyes landed on you, making you narrow your eyes at her.

“Y/n, this is Melissa Shield, her dad was All Might’s first sidekick when he worked overseas! Melissa, this is Y/n L/n, she just transferred to our class at the beginning of the year.”

You looked over at her, her face no longer fallen, giving you a softer smile as she held out her hand. The weird feeling that you got from her faded away as you smiled back at her. You took her hand and the two of you shook hands, moving into a conversation about hero support gear for you and Izuku.

You slowly nodded your head, the blond girl you haven’t seen since that time on I-Island during summer vacation in high school. You took another sip of your tea, continuing to nod your head.

“How long?”

“How-how,” he stammered and stuttered over his words, “how long have we been “seeing” each other?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of your tea. He blinked and leaned back into his seat, grabbing his right hand with his left to stop the nervous tics. You could see him slightly rocking in his seat, showing his anxiety was increasing. Usually, you would find yourself on the other side of the table, trying your best to calm him down. But this time, you wouldn't move an inch until you got the answers that you need.

“We’ve been talking to each other for six months, it didn't turn physical till-till about three months.”

You dropped your cup. The tea spilled all across the floor, along with broken pieces of your mug. You looked down at the cup, seeing the liquid slowly spread across your hardwood floor. You then looked up at your husband, who was just looking down at his bare feet

Three months ago was your wedding anniversary.

You just nodded your head, you could do nothing but nod your head at the words. You then stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. You turned around, and headed towards the kitchen, ignoring the way your heartfelt heavy, like lead in your chest. Ignored the way you felt tears swelling up at your waterline. You grabbed a rag and a plastic bag and walked right back to your seat in the dining room. You got on your knees, beginning to clean up the spilled tea while picking up the pieces of the mug.

Izuku peeked up and got out of his seat, walking over to you, “let me, let me clean this up.”

You swiftly turned towards him, no longer holding back tears, your piercing glare stabbing a hole into his heart. He took a couple of steps back as you stood up, your chest heaving up and down. You threw the wet rag and the plastic bag at his chest, he immediately caught it. He looked on as you broke down fully, falling to the ground. He immediately rushed over to you, trying to hold you but you summoned a thunder cloud filled to the brim with lighting. It struck him and threw him back to the kitchen. His body slammed against the dishwasher, leaving an Izuku-shaped indent. You gasped, sitting up on your knees. You wrapped yourself with your arms as Izuku groaned, as he tried to push himself off the floor. He slowly stood to his feet, swaying slightly from the impact.

“I gave up EVERYTHING for you! My life, my job, everything I worked for most of my teenage life! All for YOU, my parents cussed me out deciding to become your stupid, little braindead housewife! My brother didn't speak to me for months after I decided to not go back to being a pro hero! All for you!”

Another storm cloud shot out from your hands, this time going behind you and sending a harsh lighting bolt against the dining table. The bolt sliced the table in half, leaving behind a charred, rigged, broken table. Izuku saw the damage you were causing, and slowly approached you, hands out in front of him.

“Y/n… y/n… let’s talk about it.” You saw the look in eyes, apprehensive, as if he… as if he was approaching a villain.

You shook your head vigorously, slowly unraveling your arms from your body. Eyebrows furrowed and angry tears falling down your face at an even faster pace. You summoned a black cloud, one of your most powerful attacks back when you were a superhero. You would enclose it into a perfect sphere before throwing it at an assailant, which set off a bomb of lighting, both blinding and stunning the villains. It was effective and would get the job done when other attacks wouldn't. The black clouds swirled around to create a sphere, still as round as back on those days. Izuku's eyes widened and immediately powered, green lightning surrounded him. Teary-eyed, you swiftly throw the stunning attack, aimed straight at your deceitful husband.

Only for a wall of ice to cut between the both of you, catching the attack and surrounding the dark cloud spree with ice. It muffled the lightning as much as it could and caused it to dissipate within the ice, however, the ice couldn't fully contain the attack and so the ice broke but luckily it only was able to give a weak lighting stroke, only leaving a charred mark on your kitchen counter.

“What the hell is going here?”

Standing towards your now opened front door would be the number 2 and the number 3 heroes. Izuku’s best friends, and parents. Katsuki Bakugo and Shoto Todoroki. Shoto was huffing and puffing, gaining between the two of you. Katsuki came up beside him after closing the door behind them, his face slowly turning to his usual anger.

“The hell Y/n?! What the fuck are you even doing? You know what that attack could do to someone!”

You took a deep breath, reaching up to your face to wipe your tears. You glanced over the uninvited guests who suddenly appeared into your home. You turned your back towards them, walking back to your broken dining table, picking up the spilled breakfast that was splayed across the floor.

“Are you not going to answer our questions? Y/n? Izuku? What’s going on?” You could hear Todoroki come up behind you, waiting for one of you to speak.

You turned your head and looked up at the bi-colored hero, taking another deep breath as you leaned slightly to look at Izuku who was now kneeling on the floor staring at the charred mark left on the kitchen floor.

“Ask your best friend over there.” That was all you said before using a cloud to carry the destroyed breakfast into the sink.

You said nothing as the two of you just stared at each other, the silence between the two of you saying everything and nothing all at the same time. Bakugo and Todoroki glanced at each other before looking at the distressed husband and wife.

That’s when a noise rang through the air, a ringtone. And it wasn’t Izuku’s this time. You turned towards the counter in the kitchen and saw your own phone ringing, vibrating against the counter. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and pulled the robe belt tighter across your body. You stood and walked over to the counter, taking your phone from the counter, turning away from him. The screen showed that it was Mina calling you. You smiled at the picture of the two of you on a weekend vacation, it was just the two of you, back when you were in the same agency. You clicked the answer icon and walked out of the kitchen, not wanting to acknowledge the uninvited guest in your home, and wanting privacy while you talked to your closest friend.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Shoto and Katuski stared down at their friend slowly succumbing to his sobs. They glanced at each other once again before walking over to him, each taking one side of his body. They both did a silent countdown before carrying his buff body up by his arms. They carried him to the living room, laying his body across the expensive leather couch. His body just shook with sobs. He rolled over to his side, facing the back of the couch. They just let him cry, remembering the last time Katsuki interrupted his crying sessions.

Soon enough, Izuku turned towards the two of them, making them perk up. With teary eyes, he finally spoke.

“Shoto… Kacchan… I did something stupid.”

---

It had been a couple of hours since you went upstairs, leaving behind the three men to talk things out between themselves in the living room/kitchen. Mina had just invited you to a private brunch, and you figured it would be the perfect excuse to get out of the house. You need all the space you could get after all. You took a long, hot shower before getting ready, choosing to wear a more classy outfit. You pulled out a sage green satin slip dress, pairing it with a pair of ankle strap heels. You pulled your hair out of the night scarf you tied on your head last night before sitting at your pure white vanity, turning on the mirror lights. You did your makeup next, choosing a simple look with a deeper brown eyeshadow with a liner in your waterline that matched the color of your dress. Coming to your fingers to unstick your braids, you pulled them into a very high bun, leaving two pieces to frame your face. Topping your lips with some lip gloss, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You twirled around a couple of times, loving the way the satin gave you a loose yet form-fitting look around your body. You grabbed your matching purse, making sure you had all your necessities before heading out the door.

You slowly walked down the stairs, your heels clicking against the hard floors with each step. The arguing you were hearing from the living room slowly ceased as you began to peak through the steps. The three of them turned and saw you, all dressed up, their eyes slowly taking over your body. You looked at Shoto and Katsuki, giving them a soft smile before landing your eyes on your husband. His eyes, filled with all different emotions, shame, guilt, and also admiration, couldn’t tear themselves away from your form. You took a deep breath before starting to walk past them, headed towards your front door.

“I’m going out, Mina invited me out to brunch, when I get back, you better not be here, Izuku.” With those final words, you opened and closed your door behind you, not bothering to stop for both Shoto’s or Katsuki’s exclamations for you to wait.

You unlocked your car, quickly starting it, and reversing out of your driveway as soon as possible. You reached in on your phone, pulling up the address of the restaurant Mina saved reservations for the brunch, placing the device on top of your dashboard before driving down your neighborhood's street.

Back in the house, Shoto and Katsuki look at Izuku who was once again looking down in shame.

“Izuku Midoriya, what the fuck did you do?”

Izuku just said nothing.

---

Arriving at the restaurant, you parked in the accompanying parking space to the very expensive restaurant, before grabbing your purse and phone. You stepped out of the car, holding the bottom half of your dress as you did. You locked the car with the remote before heading towards the restaurant. You entered through the doors before being greeted by the hostess, who simply smiled at you before asking for your name. You saw a look of recognition shine in her eyes but she obviously held back due to her job.

“Oh no, I’m here on behalf of Ashido, the brunch?”

She gasped before nodding her head, grabbing a menu and a couple of other things before guiding towards the back of the restaurant, taking you up the stairs. Hiking your dress up slightly, you followed the worker to the second floor. She led you past the other tables, who were whispering as you passed by them.

“Look its H/n, god she looks amazing.”

“Deku is so fucking lucky, imagine coming home to that after saving heroes.”

You rolled your eyes, shuddering at the forced image of the false world in which you and your husband were actually happy together. The hostess opened the private patio doors, revealing copious amounts of chatter and laughter flowing through the balcony. She moved out of the way slightly, as you thanked her, entering through the doors. As you walked in, you saw all eyes turn on you. You smiled as they all yelled out your name, even some getting up out of their seats to come and greet you.

“Y/n! You actually came! Mina yelled, jumping up and wrapping her arms around you.

You smiled widely, as you wrapped your own arms around her waist, holding her close. You looked over at the shoulder to see the rest of your classmates, Yaomomo, Tsu, Uraraka, Jirou, and even Hagakure. You even saw some new faces, remembering them from Class B. And then you saw her, sitting in between Uraraka and Tsu, engaging in conversation with the two of them. Melissa Shield. Her long wavy hair was straightened and from what you could tell, she was wearing a dark red and black plaid dress, with a slight ruffle in her skirt. You glanced over her before taking in her body language, fidgeting fingers being hidden in the ruffles of her dress, and her face was looking everywhere but at you. Mina let you go, leading you over to the table. She had an empty seat beside her, saying something about wanting to with her best friend after being busy for so long. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on what you thought of the situation, that seat happened to be the one that was directly in front of Melissa’s own seat.

You could see her freeze up as you took your seat, seeing her slowly turn around to face you. You simply smiled in her face, taking a sip of the complimentary water sitting in front of you. She smiled back, nervously albeit, taking her own water with shaking hands as well. Uraraka, being as ever-attentive as she is, noticed Melissa’s shaking hands and the cold sweat running down her face.

“Melissa?” Uraraka started to question, reaching up to grab her by the hands, “Melissa is everything okay?”

Melissa hummed, putting down her glass of water and nodding her vigorously at Uraraka. Your face shifted into an annoyed one, rolling your eyes and as you glanced to your right and noticing the waiter and another waitress came in with notepads and a round of champagne. You put your water down before grabbing your menu, looking over all the options before deciding to eat the red velvet waffles, topped with strawberries, whip cream, and icing. Once you ordered your food and received your own flute of champagne, you heard Uraraka call your name.

Taking a sip of the bubbly, sweet alcoholic beverage, you turned towards her and gave her a smile, nodding your drink and your head towards her.

She giggled before gesturing towards Melissa, lifting and holding in her hand within her own, “you remember Melissa? From I-land? Her dad was All Might’s former sidekick? She helped out my support gear when Hatsume was out for a whole.”

You weren't the only one she was assisting.

“Hmm? What do you mean by that?”

Your eyes widened as you glanced at Uraraka, who was looking at you in confusion, as well as Tsu who heard what you said as well. Glancing at Melissa, who was taking a sip of her own water, although her hands were now starting to shake and sweat even harder in nervousness. You just shook your head and gave them a fake smile, holding up your glass,

“She and Izuku have been working together on some support gear together, and so I hear about her whenever he comes home.” You lied, taking another sip of your champagne.

Tsu and Uraraka simply “oohed” before pulling you and Yaomomo into a conversation about your daily lives, and new things you all were working on. Meanwhile, during the whole time, you and Melissa locked eyes multiple times, causing her to quickly look everywhere but at you.

---

You finally cornered her in the bathroom.

She had left, a couple of minutes before you, saying she had to use the bathroom. So you waited a moment before faking an excuse to use the bathroom as well. You found her hunched over the sink, taking deep breaths, her body shaking, from her head to her wobbling knees all the way to her heeled feet. You just leaned against the door, waiting for her to acknowledge you. You saw her slowly raise her head, before looking at herself in the mirror. She glanced to her to the left, locking eyes within the mirror. She let out a scream, turning around and jumping back into the sink. You said nothing, just stood up straight before standing at the sink beside her. You could hear her breaths sharpening up, as she just stared at you washing your hands.

“Thank you.”

It was you who said that. In the corner of your eyes, you could see her face twist in confusion. You could basically hear exactly what she was thinking. Thank you? You know that I’m sleeping with your husband, and all you can do is say thank you?

You took a deep breath and turned to face, looking deep into her blue eyes.

“Usually in these situations, I don’t blame the other girl. Most likely they didn't even know that the man was married or already had a significant other. It would all rest on the man’s shoulders. That’s not the case for this though, everyone and their mother knew that Izuku was married. To me. I am pretty sure he invited you to our wedding. So I do blame you. However, I also thank you, because I don’t care who advanced first, whoever made the first move, but all it confirmed is that Izuku never truly loved me the way I loved him. No matter how much I gave up for him, he threw it all away for… you.”

You reached over the towels sitting in an intricately fancy box, wiping your hands before placing one of them on Melissa’s shoulders. You smiled at her and she just shrunk away from you. Your smile tightened before landing a swift right hook on her face. She stumbled slightly from the force of the punch as you let go of her shoulders, walking around her to throw away your crumpled-up paper towels. You looked back at her and your fake smile face fell, your eyes narrowed in a viscous, vile glare and your mouth fell in a frown.

“If I ever see you again, it’ll be more than just a right hook.”

You opened the door and took a couple of more steps before turning your head enough to be able to look at her again. She was nursing her bruised cheek, turning her head so you heard her call out her name one more.

“You can have him, by the way, better hope he doesn't cheat on you next.”

With that, you leave the bathroom, head back to the table to leave your own split of the bill, and pick up the take-out tray of your food. You said your goodbyes to t]your old peers, mention a lie about having something to do later at the Foundation. You left the restaurant, waving at those who would wave at you. As you walked to your car, you pulled out your phone, taking it off silent mode. You noticed a couple of texts from Shoto, and Katsuki, asking you to call them asap. Well, that’s not exactly how Kats worded it, but it basically was what he said. You ignored their texts for now as you scrolled through your contacts, before finding your mom’s contact. Letting out a shaky breath, you entered your car and closed the door behind you. You clicked her name, allowing your phone to ring.

“Hello? Y/n?”

You sniffled as you could feel the tears from this morning begin to fall all over again, “M-mom, ca-can I come over please?”

-

Taglist: @introvertatitsfinest @tremendouswolfsaladranch @lazymooneye @yzviea @fan-girling-over-everything @chscklvr @simi0603 @dragonsdreamoffire

If you liked this! Please support me on my Kofi, also commissions are open! Click the link in my Bio!

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x black reader #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #mha smut #black reader #bnha imagines #my hero imagines #izuku x reader #izuku x black!reader #izuku angst #mha izuku midoriya #bnha izuku #izuku mydoria #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #boku no hero academia #izuku smut #mha izuku #Izuku #midoriya #x reader #deku smut #deku x reader #mha deku #deku x y/n #bnha deku

[cinnaminsvga]

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady. 

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool. 

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine. 

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning. 

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!” 

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him. 

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not. 

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets. 

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly. 

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched. 

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured. 

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples. 

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great. 

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet. 

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first. 

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak! 

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke. 

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly. 

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease. 

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time. 

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. 

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before. 

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

#btsghostie #bts social media au #bts smau #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader

[twinklelilstarkey]

could we get more of good girl and rafe pleasseee?? i’m a sucker for the good girl/bad boy trope. like her getting upset about him getting in fights and cleaning him up I DIE

A/N: Wasn’t sure on what type of ‘upset’ you meant, so I made her a lil mad at him. Hope it’s okay.

Bruises - Rafe Cameron [GoodGirl!Reader]

Words: 1.4k+

Type: Mostly fluff

Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of bruises and blood.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

You roll in your bed, mind completely occupied with the show that you’re watching. A stupid smile has spread over your features as the main character finally does what she has been planning on doing the whole season.

A knock on your window makes you jump in your bed and look over your shoulder to look it beside you. You frown while sitting up and grab your phone to check the time, 4am.

What in the hell...

Another harsh knock makes you jump in your feet and finally make your way to the curtains. You pull them way hesitatingly and sigh in relief at the sight of Rafe scrolling through his contacts, probably to call you.

You put your phone down and unlock the window, making the blonde look up from his phone at you. You slide the window open and he puts his phone back on his pocket.

It’s extremely dark in your backyard, so if it wasn’t for the dim lighting from the street lights, you would’ve thought it was a serial killer.

Good thing for street lights, uh?

You step back to let Rafe climb your home’s wall like a complete monkey and make his way inside your room with ease. Something he has mastered with much practice.

“What are you-” You start but as soon as he stands straight and looks down at you, you freeze.

“Do I look that bad?” He asks and tries to reach for your arm, making you step back.

The shocked look falls from your face and a scowl forms almost instantly.

“Just sit down” You order him while crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Rafe carefully does as told and you make your way out of the bedroom and down the stairs of your house to grab the med-kit.

While you’re absent, Rafe looks around your familiar room and finds a mirror. He stares at his own reflection and cringes at the sight.

“Fuck” He whispers under his breath.

No wonder you were upset just by looking at his face. He has a small trail of blood coming out from his nose, a cut above his left eyebrow and on his lip, and a bruise forming on his jaw, close to his ear.

He looks down at his hands and the sight is not any better. His knuckles are bruised and his fingers are stained with dry blood.

You come back inside the room and don’t even him spare him a look. You close the door as silently as you can, turning the lock this time, just in case your parents get any ideas to check on you at 4 in the morning.

You walk towards your bed, where Rafe is sitting and you start opening the plastic box so you can pull out all possible disinfectants for his wounds.

“I’m so-” He tries to say but you stop him.

“You promised me, Rafe” You say, finally looking at him, “No more fights”

He gives you a sad glance and you look down at your hands, opening the new pack of cotton balls. Something you’ve had to purchase more and more recently, all because of Rafe.

“I know, but I- Shit. The guy was saying so many things and I couldn’t just not do anything” He tries to justify and you shake your head, “I’m sorry”

You walk away from the med-kit with everything you need in your hands and stand in front of him. Rafe leans back and you take your usual seat over his lap, straddling his legs.

The boy in front of you almost sighs in relief as you do it, since in his mind it shows him how you don’t completely hate him, but it doesn’t take long before he’s hit with the amazing feeling of rubbing alcohol over a fresh wound. 

“Ow, owww” He repeats in pain at you, “More gentle, please”

You pull your hand away from his face and send him a glare.

“Right, sorry. You can keep going” He corrects himself and you move your hand back to his face.

Rafe closes his eyes to try and not show the pain he really is in as you continue to rub the cotton ball over the wound, that seems to need a lot of cleaning, carelessly. 

You throw the used cotton ball into your crash beside your desk, which is still completely occupied with your late night study notes, and when you look back at Rafe, he’s already staring.

“Are you mad at me?” He questions.

“Am I not allowed to?”

It’s rare for Rafe to see you mad at him, since, when it happens, it usually doesn’t last that much time (thankfully). But, if he had to be honest, he finds you cute whenever you glare at him, but also intimidating when you actually use words against him.

He doesn’t say it out loud, though. He likes to live.

You look away from him and start laying another product over the new cotton ball. He sees you do everything while sitting on his lap, completely lost in your thoughts as you do it. Still holding that frown, even though now mixed with your usual one of concentration.

You look up and grab his chin to hold his face in place. You fight the urge to warn him about how much it will sting, and press the cotton ball over his lip.

Rafe moves his head away as a reflex.

“Motherfucker, dude. That hurt!” He curses and you can’t help but let a chuckle escape your mouth.

He looks down at you and you cover your mouth to hide your smile. You’re supposed to hate him for now. Remember that.

“Is my suffering that entertaining to you?” He asks, playfully poking your side.

“In these type of days, yes”

Before he could say or do anything else, you grab his face again and this time he prepares himself mentally for what’s to come. 

You’re quick with your dabs and swaps with the cotton ball, which almost makes Rafe want to scream a ‘thank you’. You clean his bloody nose and bloody knuckles just as quick, and before you could even tell, you were finished.

“I’ll go get you some ice” You say while throwing the last bloody cotton ball to the trash.

Rafe’s, now, warm hands hold your hips down to his lap so you don’t get up and you send him a confused look. He wraps his arm around you and snuggles into the crook of your neck, catching you by surprise.

“Thank you” He whispers against your skin and squeezes you close to him.

You do the same and wrap your arms on top of his shoulders, pulling him to you. Rafe relaxes all his muscles in that same second and closes his eyes, smoothing himself while holding you.

“I’m sorry, again” You hear him whisper.

“You don’t need to say sorry, Rafe. I just get worried when you get in fights” You whisper back to him.

“I know, I know”

You two stay like this for some time and you let him be the first to pull away, but it seems like he’s not even thinking about letting you go this soon.

“Did the guy deserve it?” You ask him as you look at the wall of your room, leaning your head against his cheek.

Rafe chuckles against you and squeezes you even more.

“Of course, he did”

“Than I’m not mad anymore” You say playfully and he laughs at you.

His chest moves against yours as he does it and you smile at the sound of his cackles. 

He sighs when calmer and gives you a small squeeze against him.

“God, I don’t deserve you” He whispers.

You pull your head away from his shoulder at you hear his words and take a quick look at him.

“Of course, you do” You tell him, making him give you a soft look with a small grin, “You deserve me and more”

He chuckles slightly with a sad smile and you kiss the corner of his lips, pressing a lot of pecks over his skin.

“I need to go get you ice, now” You tell him and he nods, slowly releasing you for his hold.

As you’re about to get up, he leans forward to give you a kiss and you pull away as dramatically as you can while shaking your head.

“Nuh-uh mister. Not when your lip looks like that” You say while pointing at his wounded lip.

His shoulders fall and you get up from his lap, letting him fall on his back on your bed in defeat.

“I’ll be right back” You say while leaning down at him and kissing the center of his forehead lovingly. “Pick a movie while I’m not here, yeah?”

Hope you liked this! 🥰

And YES! Good girl x Bad boy trope is one of the superior tropes!!! It’s so goooood!

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines

[amelee23]

Fool | J. YH

Genre: Fluff

Tags: Best friends to lovers, Suggestive themes and sexual jokes, Wooyoung is an accidental wingman, Nerdy gamers having at it, A lot of Need for Speed references

No. Words: 3.5k

⭐⭐⭐

She always loved when they got completely absorbed in their little bubble - engrossed in what was making them tick in the most passionate of ways. Since Yunho came to pick her up and take her to the dorm, she didn’t even realize when they got there - or even that the house was empty -  because they were too caught in a conversation about the new-coming video games of 2021. The small task of taking off shoes or their jackets, the walk to Yunho’s room and the struggle to get comfortable in the gaming chair; these were not memories in her mind. All she could remember was the way he smiled without stop and the sparkle in his eyes as excitement took over his entire being.

Only after Yunho told her he’s been playing old games lately - specifically racing classics, of the Need For Speed series - had she realized the house was too quiet. Yunho then informed her they all left to eat at a restaurant with the manager team, but he asked to be left behind so he could spend time with his best friend. She couldn’t help the warm smile raising her lips at the sweet sacrifice this man made for her.

A few minutes later and she felt the usual competitive side of her kick in, seeing Yunho with a controller in hand, playing Need for Speed: Underground 2, a game she remembered dearly from her childhood. She couldn’t help but feel she could do so much better than him - and that’s how the challenge came to be.

“Yeah, you want to bet?” Yunho suggested, his cheeks raised in a cheeky smile, but his lips expressed something a lot more smug. 

“2 out of 3: sprint, Street X and drift.” The boy laughed at his best friend’s confidence, finding her determination very charming, like always.

“Deal.” He announced, raising his hand so she could high five the deal to completion. It never failed to amaze him, how gentle her high fives felt to him, even though she’s the only woman he’s ever seen break a controller before. “What are we betting on, money?”

“Money is boring.” Taken aback, Yunho had a healthy laugh at her statement. He couldn’t wait to say this sentence again, out of context, and turn it into both teasing material and an inside joke.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” He asked, still cackling with a half lidded eye smile.

“Let’s do something more… daring.” Trying to act surprised, Yunho opened his eyes in curiosity and hummed. They both got to thinking for about a minute, then she snapped her fingers exaggeratedly to show she had an idea. “Let’s randomly ask Wooyong to give the loser a punishment!”

“Like, with no context?”

“Exactly! After one of us loses, we ask Wooyong to give out a spicy punishment-! No one would be better than him at coming up with something totally ridiculous that one of us will regret for a lifetime!”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. But I’m starting to think you’re a masochist.”

“It’s a 50/50 gamble, so who knows?” She rebutted, wiggling her eyebrows at Yunho suggestively. He could feel his ears heating up so he pretended to need to face his computer for a while. “So, what do you say?” She questioned him, moving closer to where he was, probably intentionally, because she knew how to tell when he was turning shy. 

“I say you’re both crazy and a genius … a crazy genius. But I’m all on board.”

“Yas, leggo baby!” Yunho shook his head as he took in the image of his best friend leaning back into her chair, controller in hands, legs somewhere in between the right armrest and the air. Her enthusiasm dripped from the way she was grooving to the OST of the game. Warmth and an electricity-like feeling began filling his chest.

It took them perhaps a little too long to decide on the first track to play. Eventually, after long minutes of bickering, they chose a winding long race and swore to not try to mess the other up.

Yunho was the first one to drive, his engine roaring as he continued to hold his acceleration button. He had some lucky escapes from running into traffic - and easily overcame his competition. Now in front, he was taking short cut turns, but to her, they looked too time consuming. Yunho was trying to drive as properly as possible, and it was affecting his time; she couldn’t help but puff up as she realized it would be an easy win against him. With a record of 2:27:34, Yunho rolled his chair away from the screen and let his best friend take over.

Hands grasping the controller, she took a deep breath to overly-dramatize the situation even further.

“Eat my dust.” She mumbled, and Yunho gave her a curious side eye.

Swiftly she overtook all the NPCs, climbing up to first place. She wasn’t even worried about them to begin with. As the turns approached, Yunho realized she wasn’t showing signs of taking her fingers away from the acceleration button - not until the last second, at least. Her turns were either taken with the help of crashing into a wall or into a stylish, speedy drift. Yunho was baffled, thinking that crashing on purpose to finish faster should be considered as cheating. But he accepted his defeat as her time was 2:14:58, over ten seconds less than him.

Cracking her knuckles, she wore a smug smile as she let Yunho choose the next race for them to play. It was 1 to 0 currently, so he decided he should spice things out now - by choosing a ‘random’ Street X race. He probably forgot to mention to her that Street X were his forte in this game.

Yunho put his focus face on from the moment the cars showed up on screen. For most, this Street X race was difficult to even beat on first place - but he knew what he was doing. 

“I hope you had your fun.” He threatened, hands moving effortlessly on the controller to take him through the sharp, abrupt turns which were in Street X - a race type specifically made about taking those turns right, not about speed. Raw talent was dripping off of his fingers, but she didn’t want to feel discouraged just yet. Perhaps her method of using walls to take turns could work here, too-

Now that it was her turn, she realized it wasn’t the case - in here hitting walls was the worst thing you could do. Eyes dashing in between her car and the timer non-stop, she realized she was losing a lot of time correcting her direction if she didn’t brake properly before a turn. By the last lap, she already lost hope, as she reached Yunho’s record and wasn’t done with the race yet. 

“Tight game.” She stated, trying to ease the thick competitive air in the room. Yunho just smiled, a sparkle of something naughty in his eyes.

“Would you like to do the honours?” He asked, referring to choosing the drift track, the last race of their competition. He looked so sure of himself, to even offer that she chooses the track; she couldn’t help but feel even more frustrated by that cockyness. 

“Yeah.” She answered, not even looking him in the eyes. She knew what track she wanted - the one on the actual streets of the city, which had two off road areas - those were bomb in doing drifts over 50.000 points. 

Yunho was surprised she chose such a difficult track, but didn’t really complain. He had recently unlocked this track since he was nearing the end of the game, and so he knew the trick of the off road areas too, especially because he failed them enough times. He collected small drifts here and there on the way to the first special area, then he made sure to catch enough speed to send the back of his car in a beautiful curve, following the form of the turn. He didn’t need to, but he took the risk of connecting that turn to the next one that followed and gathered around 74.000 points in that area only. She was biting her lip, wondering if she still had the nimbleness to beat that.

The next special area gained him about 37.000, and with all the other points collected from smaller drifts, he was able to gain over 130 thousand. 

She was already pinching the bridge of her nose, knowing that she would probably lose. It’s been a while since she played this game, and the special drift areas were always a gamble. Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at the tension in her back, giving her a friendly pat to brighten up.

“You got this!” He cheered, because even if he wanted to win, he didn’t like seeing her so discouraged. He often times also got mad when he realized he was being too competitive and not giving anyone a chance to win against him.

She started out just like Yunho, gaining some small scores on the way to the main attraction of the race. As she saw the goal in her eyes, suddenly she struggled to regain control of her car in the midst of the big drift. She was headed straight for the edge, meaning her score would be neutralized if she hit it - so she was forced to stop her car. The special area unfortunately only brought her 55 thousand, a weak number compared to Yunho. She brushed it off and continued on her way, towards the second special area. She had a better feeling about this one, as her car was being much more responsive, and even if the space was smaller, she gained another 50 thousand there too. 

But unfortunately, as she hit the finish line, she realized - they both scored in the range of 130 thousand - but hers was exactly that number. Yunho was closer to 140.

With a little dance celebration, Yunho announced he was the winner of the tournament. Seeing him act so goofy, she couldn’t even bring herself to sulk. It’s not like it was unusual for Yunho to win their dumb little competitions, but it would’ve been nice to win one anyway.

“I acknowledge your driving skills, Mr. Jung.” She said with a smirk, offering him a hand to shake. 

“You weren’t so bad yourself, well… except the part of taking turns with your face.” Now that the tension was lifted, they were back to being all smiley and supportive of each other.

“What can I say? I like using my head.” Yunho chuckled, grabbing the controller to quit out of the game so he could find some movie to watch while they eat. Remembering that he needed to order some food, he pulled out his phone - and read Wooyoung’s name.

“So… do I need to ask Wooyoung to give you a ‘daring’ punishment?” He used air quotes to express the idea of something naughty. For a while he forgot that this was the penalty of losing, the thought completely slipping his mind as he focused too much on doing well in the game.

“I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders, secretly hoping that he had forgotten and she could’ve avoided doing something so embarrassing. 

Hesitant, Yunho opened the messenger app and tapped on Wooyoung’s name. He didn’t know if he was excited about what was about to come.

[Yunho]: Hey Wooyoung, can you come up with a ‘daring’ punishment a girl could do for a guy for losing a game?

[Sent 18:46]

A thick silence enveloped the two as Yunho stared at the screen, waiting for Wooyoung to see his message. They were both hoping the resident jokester of the group would go easy on them this time.

[Seen 18:51] 

Five minutes later, Wooyoung saw the message and Yunho watched the three dots dance for a very short amount of time. And, as it turned out, Wooyoung didn’t ask any questions - he gave a straightforward answer.

[Wooyoung]: Oral

His answer had Yunho opening his eyes in pure shock. He glanced at his best friend, who was looking at him expectantly, and then back at the screen. 

“Uhm…” He couldn’t even bring himself to mutter such a word to her. Before he knew it, he let his phone down and stared into the distance like a deer in the headlights. 

Yes, asking Wooyoung was a bad idea. 

“Uhm? Did he answer?” She pressed on, and Yunho couldn’t do much more than nod. 

“Look for yourself.” He showed her his phone, and she felt as if she just got hit with a soccer ball in the stomach. Blinking at Yunho in disbelief, she let out a confused puff of air.

“I mean, I expected something like a sexy dance…. But not this. Wooyoung really is another level.” She complained, suddenly looking as lost as Yunho. They both looked like ghosts, the colors drained from their faces. 

In truth, both of their heads were racing at that moment - imagining what could happen if they went through with it. Yunho’s face heated up and his body grew heavy, and she was biting her lip. But a common thought was keeping them both grounded; that they were just friends, and nothing more.

Moments later, Yunho was able to collect himself and focus his vision again. She was in distress, even in a haze. He pulled out his phone again, texting Wooyoung to rectify the situation.

[Yunho]: How about something a little bit… more decent. This is my best friend we’re talking about.

Wooyoung read the message instantly after, his fingers fast on the keyboard.

[Wooyoung]: Oh my God it’s her! Why didn’t you tell me! I thought you were finally scoring a lady with those video games of yours!

[Yunho]: I told you guys I was spending time with her today

[Wooyoung]: You did? OOPS

[Yunho]: Yeah, oops. You almost gave me a heart attack

[Wooyoung]: *boner

[Yunho]: DUDE

[Wooyoung]: Okay okay I’m sorry, but you’re the one who asked me outta the blue

[Wooyoung]: Something a little more tame… HMMM

[Wooyoung]: You’re a tall dude, right? How about you have her wear one of your shirts for the rest of the day… but like only your shirt. I bet she’d look cute ;)

[Yunho]: That doesn’t sound that bad, thanks

[Wooyoung]: I can’t wait to get home :P

She dragged her voice suddenly, bringing Yunho back to reality. He didn’t realize how focused he was in his conversation with Wooyoung.

“Uhm, so, yeah! Wooyoung gave you a more tame challenge. He said you should wear one of my shirts for the rest of the day… like, as a dress type thing.” Yunho tried to explain, but he was still nervous from the previous shock and tripping over his own words.

“So wear a boyfriend shirt.” Yunho felt his being vibrate once again at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

“I… guess so.”

“I can do that! That sounds more like a prize than anything, to be honest. You know I have a fixation for your clothes.” She said with a laugh. She seemed to be back to her cheerful self, already walking her way to Yunho’s closet. “Can I choose any shirt?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Still no intonation in his words, Yunho’s mind was not present in the conversation at all. It wasn’t long before he zoned out again.

He couldn’t possibly be attracted to his best friend in such a way. They had a strong spiritual bond, for sure, but it was never anything physical for them. They appreciated each other for who they are, so he never asked himself questions like these before.

Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He heard the door handle move and then saw her come back in, legs bare and sexy, her small frame basically swimming in his large shirt. She sat down on her chair and melted back into it without a care in the world. She looked comfortable, even.

“So, are we ordering that food?” She asked, but in Yunho’s daze, he missed the smirk playing on her lips. If only he knew how much she was enjoying this.

Forcing her to stay put, Yunho was the one to receive the food at the front door. He sighed in relief when he managed to put a blanket over her, as they nestled up in bed to watch a movie and enjoy their food. Out of sight, out of mind, they say.

His torture began again as soon as they got back into gaming -  this time choosing to do their usual foolery - playing Minecraft together, one being in charge of the mouse and the other in charge of the keyboard. No wonder they never made any real progress on their world, since they could never be in sync with each other to actually defend themselves from zombies. ‘

Time flew by as they laughed and played, but the rustle of keys at the front door still managed to startle Yunho out of his mind. Panicked, he got up to throw her pants back at her, words leaving his mouth a little too fast.

“How about you put those back on now.” Cocking an eyebrow at him, she hung them on the chair, clearly refusing to do so.

“Why would I? The punishment says for the rest of the day - or as long as I’m here.”

“Yes, but-” Yunho pursed his lips to the side. He didn’t know how to word his thoughts. To add more pressure, the door to his room swung open and San came inside to throw his phone on the bed. He glanced at Yunho’s best friend briefly and they exchanged hellos before he went back to the living room, where the boys were being loud over something.

Yunho breathed out in relief that San was nice enough not to stare. Something about other men seeing her like this irked him, even more so that she was wearing his shirt. 

“But?” She urged him to continue speaking, getting off of the chair to stand in front of him. Being the tall guy Yunho was, it wasn’t often that she had the opportunity to stare him down like that. Yunho gulped as he felt his throat dry up, taking in the image of his friend - no, an attractive woman - looking at him with such a suggestive expression.

“I don’t want anyone else to see you like this…” He mumbled, the beauty before his eyes already making him breathless.

“Why not?” She teased.

“Because…” There wasn’t any logical answer in his mind, or even a concrete idea. “I think we need to reevaluate our relationship.” Letting out a healthy laugh, she wasted no time to climb in his lap. Yunho was happy, perhaps the most relieved he’d been the entire day. He didn’t know there was such a sexual tension in between them until it finally dissipated. 

“Finally!” She exclaimed.

“You think so too?” She hummed in response, eyes locking with his lips as she did. 

The kiss itself felt good - like two magnets clicking into place. What felt even better though, was being able to accept all the feelings he’s been burying deep inside himself. He was wrong in thinking something more wasn’t possible between them.

A loud knock echoed from the door, and Wooyoung’s voice could be heard screaming from the other side.

“You two decent?” 

“No!” Yunho yelled back. They certainly weren’t a sight he’d want his bandmates to see - his shirt was hiking up on her thighs, their arms tangled around each other’s bodies. 

“What do you mean ‘no’??!” This time it was HongJoong’s voice, and Yunho knew he messed up. Almost effortlessly, he got up with her still around his hips and grabbed her pants on the way to the bathroom. 

“Okay, but seriously get dressed now.” Yunho said, and only got a wink from her in response. He rolled his eyes and went back into the room to let her change. 

He really was a fool to think this wouldn’t work out - he already loved every second of it.

#Jung Yunho #yunho #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #yunho imagines #yunho fluff #yunho scenarios #yunho Fanfiction #Jung Wooyoung #Ateez smut #Yunho smut #kpop Fanfiction #best friends to lovers

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (8)

Masterlist

Pairings: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Wanda lets you have a little freedom and you take advantage of it.

Warnings: dark themes

A/N: I was going to do one long part to show the aftermath/consequences of what the reader did, but decided to leave you on a cliffhanger instead 😏 you have my permission to yell at me for it though. I’ll be posting part 9 tomorrow!

Previous part

-

“Hey, printsessa.”

You looked up from your bowl of cereal, offering Wanda a smile that widened as she approached, placing a gentle palm on your cheek when she leaned down to kiss you.

“Good morning, Wan. I’m almost done,” you added as you gestured to your bowl, and she shook her head.

“That’s not what I came over here for, although we do need to leave soon.”

“Oh, then what’s going on?” you questioned before shoveling your last spoonful in.

“I wanted to give you this.” She grabbed your hand and turned it over, dropping an iPad into your palm. “My meeting at the tower will be pretty long and then we have to wait another hour or so for Tash to get back from her mission, so I don’t want you to get bored. I downloaded all the games you like and a reading app.”

“Thank you, Wan.”

She responded to your gratitude with a kind smile and a kiss on your forehead, grabbing your dishes as she pulled away and taking them over to wash. You unlocked the iPad, using the time Wanda was distracted to quickly download Instagram and log in. A few DMs popped up once the app loaded, and the one that caught your eye first came from your ex-girlfriend, Brittani Gray.

Hey! I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but I’ll be in your city this week for work! I hate to be so last minute, but I’m only free to meet today.

The message was sent an hour ago, and you found yourself quickly responding to her before you had time to think about your actions. You named the place you wanted to meet in and closed the app, switching over to a game just as Wanda walked away from the sink.

“Ready to go?” she asked and you nodded sweetly, your expression dripping in false innocence.

-

“There she is!”

You looked up from subconsciously counting the tiles in front of your feet, meeting the eyes of the billionaire that owned the tower you just entered.

“You must be the girlfriend. Tony Stark, nice to meet you, kid.”

You told him your name and extended a hand, fighting the urge to roll your eyes or gag when he grabbed and planted a kiss on the back of it. He then moved on to address Wanda, and you wandered over to a nearby armchair, removing the iPad from the little crossbody satchel you were given to carry it in. You plugged in earbuds and turned on some music while you kept yourself busy with another game until a hand touched your knee.

“Hey.” Wanda’s eyes seemed to sparkle when you met her gaze, and you couldn’t help the look of adoration you gave her. “I’ll be upstairs, but if you need something you ask one of the secretaries to call me. Love you, baby.”

A kiss was dropped on the top of your head before she quickly walked away with Tony, and you knew she was probably kicking herself for the declaration. Despite how much the two enjoyed controlling most aspects of your life, the one thing they never pushed for was a confession of love. Natasha and Wanda knew they loved you, but they wanted you to have the freedom to realize it on your own, so they made it a point not to use the phrase until then.

Another hour or so passed while you busied yourself with sudoku, crosswords, or the occasional coin collecting game until you got bored with it. You then moved onto people watching until a notification came in from Instagram.

I’ll be there in about 20 minutes!

You quickly logged out and deleted the Instagram app, tucking the device away safely in the bag as you got up and exited the tower. Walking to the main street, you quickly hailed a cab, double-checking that the cash you swiped a few days ago while Wanda took a shower was still in your pocket. You paid the driver once you were dropped off and went inside the building.

“Brittani?” you called, your lips forming a grin when she faced you. “Hey! How are you?”

“Hey, I’m great!” she replied as she brought you into her embrace, examining you head to toe when she pulled away. “What about you? I have to imagine pretty well...you’re definitely glowing.”

“Really?” you questioned almost sarcastically with an incredulous expression.

“Yeah, you seem happy.”

“Happy to see you as usual,” you told her casually as you looked around the café. “I’m gonna grab a table while you order.”

“You don’t want anything? My treat.”

“Well, I already ate but I’ll take a--”

“Smoothie?” she finished for you with a teasing grin. “I already know which one.”

You laughed and shook your head as you stepped away to find a table far from the street side of the building, not wanting to be seen by anyone that knew your girlfriends. Brittani sat in front of you a few minutes later with her coffee and muffin, handing your smoothie and a straw over and beaming when your hands brushed.

“You know, as happy as I am that you agreed to meet, I’m very surprised to be sitting here with you now.” She glanced at your confused frown and continued. “Even though things didn’t end terribly between us, I’d always assumed you moved so far to get a fresh start and let go of everything in the past or something.”

“I guess in a way I did but...I don’t know.” A heavy sigh left your lips as you turned your attention to your smoothie. “I was pretty depressed when we broke up because I hadn’t been single in so long. I didn’t know how to handle it and every reminder of you made me angry. I’d planned to go even farther away than this.”

“What stopped you?” she questioned curiously, and her gentle tone helped you feel safe enough to meet her gaze again.

“I just thought that if I was going to move anywhere, it should be for me and not because I’m running from something or someone. So I thought a lot about what I really wanted, did some research and somehow ended up in New York.”

“Well I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” she confessed as she leaned forward to grab one of your hands. “Breakup or not, we were friends first, and it feels so weird to not have been there for a rough moment in your life.”

“I know, but everything went how it should’ve,” you assured her, laying your other hand on top of hers. “Had you been there, I would’ve tried to be with you again and I never would’ve learned the things about myself that I did.”

“I’m glad it all worked out then. So have you dated since then or…?” Your eyes widened a bit in panic and she quickly pulled her hands away. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“No no, it’s okay.” Your own hands shifted back to your smoothie, and you took a sip with a smile. “So, I see you got that promotion you wanted.”

The conversation moved on from there to details about her job, and she explained all the traveling and salary increases that came with it. You found it easy to listen to her, even though you didn’t understand half of what she was saying, simply enjoying the normalcy of it all. Although you were able to find little moments of enjoyment in your insane relationship with Natasha and Wanda, it’d been a while since you just sat in a public place with someone who wasn’t looking over their shoulders for an enemy most of the time. It was nice.

“So then we somehow ended up with 60 pieces of dessert even though we only ordered 20!”

“Britt, I’m not seeing the problem here.”

She cackled loudly in a contagious way that made it so easy to join in. The two of you were so caught up in laughing that neither of you noticed someone approaching your table until you felt a stern hand gripping the back of your neck and Natasha’s cold voice in your ear.

“You have ten seconds to get in the car before I drag you there myself.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @fayhar @cherrieloco @mjaudrey @seventeen0 @bebe404 @becka107 @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @messuhp @sxphiaswitch @muted-stoneheart @trikruismybitch @wannabe-fic-reader @natashadeservedmore @darkangelxoxo @witchxaf @sakurat123

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[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 3

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of NSFW content, suggestive NSFW content

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea

Chapter 3: Dirty Little Secret

I’ll keep you my dirty little secret

Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret

Hope that you can keep it

My dirty little secret

~ The All-American Rejects - Dirty Little Secret ~

All three girls watched as Orion left the private area of the nightclub, two of them looking confused, one of them trying her hardest not to laugh.

“What’s got into him all of a sudden?” Merula asked, looking baffled.

“Seems like Jameson’s show rattled the poor guy alright,” Skye cackled.

Lizzie joined into her laughter. “As if. I don’t think anything could shake him, let alone me.”

She hid her smirk by taking a sip of her cocktail.

The next fifteen minutes felt like an eternity to Lizzie. She passed the time by listening to Skye and Merula’s chit chat, sipping her drink and nodding from time to time. She had to fight the urge to bounce her foot in impatience and not glance at her watch repeatedly. Not quite succeeding, Lizzie caught herself tapping her finger against her glass to the beat of the music; she willed herself to stop.

When she had finally finished her drink, she rose from her seat, stretched her already aching back and smiled at her remaining two friends.

“I’m afraid Orion had a point earlier, I always forget how exhausting playing a full show is,” she yawned and reached for her bag. “I’ll get a cab back home to get some sleep in.”

“Alright, let us just finish our drinks and we’re ready to go,” Skye said immediately, but Lizzie could tell she wanted to stay for a little longer; she always did.

“No, it’s alright, go and have some fun. Once we’re out of London there won’t be much time for that anymore.”

Skye scowled at her. “You sure? Not that keen on you going back all by yourself.”

Merula rolled her eyes. “Just let her go, if she wants to. If she gets kidnapped, no one can chew their captor’s ear off with that awful cheeriness like her. We’ll have her back in no time.”

Usually she would have shot back at Merula but right now Lizzie was glad she was playing into her hands. She was buzzing to get out of the nightclub, so when Skye tried to speak up again, she just shook her head.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll text you once I’m back, alright?”

Without giving Skye another chance to reply, she smiled at both of them, turned around and walked towards the exit.

The cool air of the summer night felt wonderful compared to the stuffiness of the packed nightclub as Lizzie stepped outside. She buried her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and bowed her head as she passed the group of photographers always present in front of high profile establishments like this.

It was her luck that they cared more for soap stars and minor starlets stumbling home on the arm of a football player than one relatively sober person leaving all on her own. It was only a few clicks and flashes she had to make her way through before the mob had already focused on the next familiar face emerging from the doors behind her. She just hoped she had waited long enough for no one to make the connection.

Checking the message on her phone telling her where to go, she quickly walked a few steps away from the crowd until she reached the entrance to a small side street. Turning her head, Lizzie made sure no one was watching her before she stepped into the darkness of the alley. Anyone still in possession of half of their senses would have told her to stick to the main street, but Lizzie knew where she was going.

A smile stole onto her face as she walked towards the figure stepping out of the shadows.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Ignoring his question, Lizzie sped up her steps until she had reached Orion, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him towards her. Her lips crashed onto his and his arms immediately went around her as he kissed her with the same desperate hunger she was feeling herself.

She buried her hands in his dark hair and sighed against his mouth as she felt his hands wandering over the curve of her waistline before his fingers hooked through the loops of her jeans.

“So fierce tonight,” she chuckled as they broke apart for a moment. Both of them were breathing heavily, Orion’s skin feeling hot to her touch. There was a fire burning inside his eyes that made her shudder.

“You did keep me waiting,” he murmured into her ear. His breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of her neck was giving her goosebumps all over and he knew that full well.

“I couldn’t really down my drink in one go and run after you, could I? Your fault you left so early.”

She would have loved to go straight after him but that would have been way too suspicious; their little affair - if one could even call it that - was a secret both of them very much intended to keep from the others.

“After that show you’ve given? What did you expect?”

She had to laugh at his words, her eyes twinkling with promise as they found his. Her finger traced the line of his jaw, the stubble of his beard biting into her fingertip.

“I knew you’d love it.”

She rose onto her tiptoes to reach his ear as she whispered, “Want me to remind you what else my tongue can do?”

“I don’t think I’m the only one eager for that.”

Despite herself, Lizzie’s breath hitched and she bit her bottom lip as she felt Orion’s hands travel downwards from her waist. He stopped over the back pockets of her trousers, squeezing her bum as he captured her lips in another searing kiss.

Her head spun for a moment, dizzy from exhaustion, alcohol and Orion’s touch. She had to will herself to break away from him again, this time taking a step back out of his reach.

“Come on then,” she purred, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she looked him up and down, “What are you waiting for?”

But Orion knew how to play her game as well. Mirroring her grin, he simply walked past her in the direction of the main street, not sparing so much as another look. He passed so closely that he was almost brushing against her; the electricity between them was palpable and Lizzie felt her mouth go dry as she watched him from behind.

Orion waited a moment before motioning for her to follow him when he was sure no one would pay any attention to them.

While they were waiting for their cab, not being able to touch Orion when all she wanted was to feel his lips on her skin almost killed Lizzie; judging from his tensed shoulders and nervous fingers drumming against his leg during their ride home, that feeling was mutual.

It was no use, though; as long as they were in public, there was nothing they could do. Making out in the alley with a bunch of reporters around the corner had already been a hell of a risk.

The drive to Orion’s place in Nottinghill felt like an eternity; by the time they had finally reached his flat, Lizzie’s skin was positively tingling. Not being quick enough for her taste, she plucked the key from his hand and unlocked the door herself before stepping into the dark hallway first.

She turned around in the doorframe, shooting him a cocky smile over her shoulder.

“Are you coming? I think I promised you a show.”

***

The pale sunlight of the early morning seeped into the room from the skylight above Orion’s bed. Falling onto Lizzie’s face, it made her stir in her sleep, slowly waking her up from her dream. She tried holding on to it for a moment longer, but it drifted out of her grasp as her body was waking up until it was completely out of reach.

Sighing wistfully, Lizzie turned around and propped herself up onto her elbows. Her lips curved into a smile as her eyes fell onto Orion, who was still sleeping next to her. He was lying on his stomach with his face buried in the fluffy white pillows, his breath deep and even.

Now, in the light of the new day, Lizzie could see the bright red scratches running over his shoulder blades. She blushed a little; maybe she had gone a little overboard in the heat of the moment.

The sight of Orion’s maltreated back made the memories of last night return to her. The thought of his rough fingertips exploring every inch of her body, the sweet bite of his unshaved cheek against the inside of her thighs sent a pleasant shiver down her spine even now. The way she had relished the feeling of his skin against hers as he had coaxed wave after wave of pleasure from her body made her realise how starved she had been for his touch.

It almost surprised Lizzie how quickly sleeping with Orion had become her favourite way of winding down after a show. The sex was fantastic and the fact that no one knew what they were doing was only adding to the excitement. They were aware that it was one of the band’s most important rules they were breaking time and time again: No meddling with the other members. According to Ethan, getting involved with each other could cause nothing but trouble.

However, Lizzie was enjoying their time together way too much to just give up on it like that; free from any form of commitment, it was a bonus to their friendship neither of them wanted to miss. She could definitely confirm that Orion’s fingers weren’t only nimble when it came to playing the guitar.

Without really thinking about it, Lizzie reached out towards him. Her fingers were tracing the lines of the tattoo covering the whole of his back, from the now slightly scratched eagle wings spanning from shoulder to shoulder, down to the woven circle of the dreamcatcher the eagle was carrying in its claws. Her fingers tiptoed lightly over the pattern, joining up the beads worked into the web. Orion had told her that each of them represented a memory dear to him; she noticed he had some new ones added since the last time she had seen it.

Some of the inked feathers flowing down from the circle past beneath the eagle’s tail were new to her as well. Her fingers were wandering over them, dancing across his lower back.

Completely consumed by what she was doing, Lizzie hadn’t noticed Orion waking up. She jumped as he spoke to her, her eyes flying towards his face.

“What are you doing?”

Orion’s head was turned towards her, his eyes still closed, but a cheeky smile was playing around his lips.

Lizzie was spared an answer when he opened his eyes to look at her. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Realising how his words must have sounded, his smile turned softer as he closed his eyes again. “Don’t stop though.”

Setting her hand onto his back again, Lizzie let her fingers wander up his spine. She lightly tapped them to a rhythm only she could hear and noticed the tiny shiver running through him when she brushed them downwards again, her fingernails grazing his skin ever so gently.

“You never stay the whole night when we’re touring,” Orion murmured sleepily.

Lizzie hummed in response, not taking her eyes off the beautiful picture painted on his skin.

“I missed this,” she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to him.

“I missed you.”

Caught by surprise at his words, her movements stopped abruptly. Orion’s eyes were soft as he watched her, taking in his shirt hanging loose on her body. Her open hair was still a tangled mess from last night

“Why would you say that?” Lizzie laughed, trying to mask her being caught unaware with a poke to his ribcage.

Orion laughed along and evaded her by rolling onto his side. He quickly caught her wrist and held it away from him. A grin formed on his face as he shrugged.

“Because it’s true; nothing relaxes me more than you do.”

Lizzie snorted. “Is that so?”

With a laugh, he let go of her hand and let himself fall back into the pillows. “Do I look not relaxed to you?”

“If anything, you look overly smug to me,” Lizzie shot back.

She grabbed her pillow and hit him with it before quickly jumping off the bed to get out of his reach. She searched her jacket that was among the pile of clothes littering the floor for her phone and a hair tie, all the while feeling Orion’s eyes on her.

When Lizzie had found what she had been looking for, she tied her unbrushed hair back and straightened up again. Unlocking her phone, she quickly scrolled through her messages.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Orion getting up as well, stretching his back.

“Come to think of it, I might have overestimated how balanced my body is this morning,” Lizzie heard him complain, “my muscles hurt like hell.”

She didn’t even bother looking up from her phone. “Tell me about it.”

Orion finally caught her attention when he stepped closely behind her. “I could do something about that, you know.”

Lizzie had to stifle a sigh when he gently began rubbing the tension from her shoulders, knowing exactly where her tight spots were; he had developed a knack for this she had come to appreciate.

Enjoying his touch for a moment longer, Lizzie pulled herself together and shook his hands off. She turned around, holding her phone up for him to see.

“Forget it, I have a breakfast date.”

“With Charlie, I presume?”

“Charlie is busy interviewing that new pyro guy.”

Orion tilted his head. “Who else then? Someone I need to be jealous of?”

Lizzie chuckled at the notion. “Only if you consider Skye as competition. But we both know you’re not the jealous type,” she shrugged. “And why would you be, anyway?”

She started gathering her strewn about things. “In any case, I need to get ready. I could really use a hot shower.”

Looking down at herself, still dressed in Orion’s shirt, she plucked at the collar and chuckled. “You’ll get this back another time.”

She turned to leave but didn’t make it far. Orion’s arms closed around her from behind, his lips nuzzling against the exposed skin of her neck. “Your wish and mine don’t necessarily rule each other out.”

Goosebumps were spreading all over her skin at his touch but she pulled herself together and broke free of his embrace.

“Tempting, but no. I can’t really show up at Skye’s place wearing last night’s outfit or, even better, your shirt.”

Her smile turned into a smirk as she looked him up and down, taking in his bronzed skin, lean but still muscular build and tousled black hair, regretting her decision already. “I might take you up on that massage later, though.”

She tried to leave a second time before she could change her mind, but Orion caught her wrist, pulling her back towards him.

“Do I get a kiss?”

Lizzie was already smiling; she had anticipated the question. He always asked it before she left, and her answer was the same every time. “You already got much more than that.”

She took a step back towards him, rose to her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Maybe next time.”

Orion laughed as he finally let her go. “I’ll get my kiss one day.”

Lizzie dipped her head back as she laughed and turned towards the door. “We’ll see about that.”

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm au #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #when stars ignite #besties collaborate

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mermay - Dilliam - An Introduction

Happy Mermay!

William discovers that Mark’s girlfriend is hiding a secret known as ‘Damien’. He’d never guess the truth.

Word Count: 2,807 (I got a little carried away, and this wasn’t even what I intended to write!)

-

Even if William had known Mark and Celine for two years, he always felt like he was on the outside of the group.

(Aside from feeling like the third wheel as Mark and Celine had been in a steady relationship since Mark first introduced his childhood friend to his girlfriend)

Mark, Celine, and her family seemed to have a secret. Whenever they would chat, there would be mention of "Damien" in passing. But when William tried to ask for context, he was never given it. Mark and Celine would conveniently slide the topic elsewhere to avoid answering the question, while he was in no position to ask her parents. All William could gather was that Damien travelled but occasionally returned to the family home. Was he a businessman, forever on the roam? Was he a soldier like William? Was he family or a friend? After several years of being left in the dark, he had accepted that he'd never learn the truth.

In January, he had been sent overseas with the military as part of a peacekeeping mission. Even if there were opportunities for video calls, the three decided to write letters to give William something to do while on duty and to make the time go by a little faster. The young Colonel realised something interesting - by Celine's fourth letter, she had mentioned Damien. He guessed that the vagabond must have returned while the soldier was overseas. He noted in his next letter that he was surprised Celine willingly mentioned this mysterious figure (William? Bitter? Of course not!). As though adding to the mystery, the letter he received in reply was a curious one:

"I'm sorry I couldn't explain it before. Damien is my brother, but he's very shy. He doesn't like others knowing about him without being told first. I have told him about you and he's rather interested in what you're doing."

William was FLOORED. He'd known Celine for two FULL years and there had never been mention of a sibling?? He didn't remember a family photo with unfamiliar faces. Deciding it was a better argument to have when he was home, he instead crammed two letters into the one envelope - one for Celine, one for Damien. If the brother was secretive, it might be best to prove that William was a trustworthy friend. Friendly, short letters would be a good way to start.

--

For the next two months, the letters became a great distraction from his duties. Mark was asking William for advice on how to propose. Celine was updating William on the house she and Mark had bought, including sending photos of the ocean just at their doorstep. Damien, while proving that he was a secretive individual, wrote short letters about himself. The mysterious brother kept to himself, and it got William wondering about how shy Damien was. It was endearing, in a way. William accepted that he was wrong to take the news so harshly at first. Celine was merely doing right by her brother. 

It wasn't long after William sent his letters in response that his squad was ambushed. The attackers were defeated, but not without William having his leg broken in the process, among other things. He was sent to a local hospital before it was decided that getting him home would be more beneficial. Any letters that arrived at the base for William were instead returned to sender, as the soldier was being transferred too frequently while being treated to determine where he would be at a given moment.

-

It was June by the time William arrived home. Not even a medical boot and a crutch could dampen his spirits. Mark's hug of relief nearly knocked them both down, but Celine joining the hug successfully toppled them over William's rucksack as they erupted into laughs. The couple gave William the grand tour of their new home. It was as charming and elegant as Mark would like, while secluded from frequent public activity as Celine desired. Not only that, the house was near a cliff edge, which allowed a beautiful view of the ocean. William took in this view as he sat in the living room with a glass of water.

"Will?" Celine's voice stirred him from his daze. "I know you've done a lot of walking to get here and you're likely tired but… Would you like to meet Damien today?"

"Would I like to what?" William repeated blankly, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"Your idea of sending him letters worked a treat. He asked me every day if there was a new letter for him. He's very curious about you."

"From what you told me, I thought he would have been gone by now." William's observation had Celine shaking her head.

"He waited to see you. I think learning about your injuries worried him." Celine's gaze lifted briefly to the water before she added, "He'll understand if he needs to wait until tomorrow -"

"No, no. I'll admit I've been curious to meet him as well. All this time you've had a brother and no one could tell me. What time will he arrive?"

"Actually, he's already here. Come on. I'll show you. There's one more part of the house you haven't seen."

-

William was fully expecting there to be a secret basement. Instead, he was led out to the back garden. It was small and neat, complete with a small wall to give some semblance of shelter. It looked like it belonged to a farmland cottage, especially given the gate at the bottom. Celine unlocked it and went first. William could see a path that led down to the ocean. The steps were man-made and weren't too steep. It would be a slow walk down but he could manage it in the medical boot.

"Damien is my twin brother," Celine began as she guided William down the steps, "and nearly everyone who knows my family doesn't know he exists. You and Mark are the only one of my friends who know and, well, you'll understand soon."

At the bottom of the steps was a seating area protected by some large rocks that created a safe area to swim in without worry of sudden tides whisking you out to sea. William hobbled over to one of the large rocks so he could sit down, gather his energy and curse the boot. Celine followed, climbing onto a neighbouring large rock.

"Damien? Are you here? I have my friend William, the Colonel!"

Ripples began to spread through the still water. William watched with wide-eyed curiosity when he caught movement below the surface. He had been watching the water while coming down the stairs, and there weren't any items or clothing strewn about. Before he could ask Celine, a head popped out of the water in front of him.

It was a man, or what looked like one. His smooth skin was as white as porcelain and shimmered in the sunlight. There were tiny bubble-like markings that William swore looked like scales. His hair was as dark as Celine's, but with a blue tint with the right light. It appeared to hold its shape by being stylised into smaller 'chunks' to form larger strands of hair. The ears were finned and had a pale blue along the edges. His face, despite not looking fully human, reminded William of both Celine and her father. The eyes were a different shape to the rest of the family - presumably more rounded and large to help with hunting - but the 'nose' and mouth were a perfect match. Even the eye colour was the same as Celine's.

"Damien, I take it?" William thought it absurd, but his hunch to ask immediately proved to be a good thing. The head ducked back under the water. Celine gave a knowing smirk and stepped back. In a flash, a large blur pounced for the rocks and climbed up with surprising agility, revealing what was actually a merman in full display. From head to tail, the skin kept that white tone, unlike what William would have seen in movies. There were fin-like protrusions emerging from his collar bones and his upper arms, which went from that pale blue on the edges to a dark purple at the base, almost like a sunset. This coloration was also on the frills that went down his stomach and on either side of his tail, before all three trailed off at differing points to allow the splendour of the large tail tip. William did remember Celine having posters of betta fish in her room when they met, was this why?

"The Colonel, yes? Oh, it's such a pleasure to meet you! Celine has told me so much about you! I'm so sorry I wasn't able to meet you sooner." Damien had snatched up William's left hand with both his webbed ones and shook eagerly, until he caught himself and quickly pulled back. "I'm so sorry. It's not often I get to meet new people." As quickly as he had sprung forward, Damien pulled back as his sister sat down beside him, ears flattened in embarrassment. The twins had such a likeness once the obvious differences were put aside.

"Don't apologise. I've been looking forward to meeting you too. I can't believe no one told me before I left. I'm offended!" William put a hand on his chest and dramatically sighed, only to erupt into cackles when Celine reached over and slapped his arm.

-

The three sat on the rocks for the afternoon. Celine and Damien took the time to explain to William about their genetics. Their father's grandfather was a merman who had decided to leave the life of the water behind and marry their great-grandmother. The merfolk genes became a passive trait. Their descendants had natural aquatic talents but all were completely human. Their mother, however, had magic in her bloodline, and this strengthened the recessive merfolk gene. When she was expecting twins, one was a regular human pregnancy, while the other was cocooned in water. In that regard, Damien was a miracle that he survived and had a healthy childhood...

"- but it meant no one outside a small circle knew I existed," Damien sighed. "Celine was able to go to school, make friends, while I was taught by our grandparents, as well as Celine who showed me what she learned in school. Because I'm not human-passing like movies show, I couldn't use a wheelchair and a blanket like I wanted." Not only that, there wasn't a large community of mythical creatures that they knew of. "But don't take this to be me lamenting my fate. I've had a wonderful life and have made connections with many merfolk communities around the world who welcomed me in while I am studying."

"Studying?" William looked confused, but Celine took the moment to wrap her arm around Damien's shoulder.

"You are looking at one of the top merfolk experts on culture and tradition, as well as a general fish expert. Speaking of," she patted Damien on the shoulder as she rose to her feet, "I should go back up and help Mark. We're having dinner down here." With that, she hopped off the rocks and began the ascent back up the house. Damien and William watched her go, before the soldier turned back around.

"So, an expert, eh? I happen to be rather unintelligent compared to your sister and Mark, so I'm afraid you'll have to tell me everything." He rested his elbow on his good leg, and propped his chin on his hand as he grinned at the merman. Damien's eyes darted aside and his ears flattened in embarrassment.

"Well, I wouldn't call myself an 'expert'," Damien admitted quietly, "but actually… I'd rather hear about you. I really enjoyed receiving your letters while you were away. Is that why you wear those clothes?" 

"Oh these?" Whoops. William had forgotten to change when he arrived. He barely had a moment to drop his bags to the guest room. "This is my military uniform. It's commonplace to wear it when you're on duty, even if you're simply being sent home. It's not the normal battle uniform, not anymore. That's just regular camouflage. This is an everyday uniform that shows off any badges you have earned and -" William stopped as he felt his hat being plucked off his head. He hadn't noticed Damien crawl over until it was too late. Instead of snatching it back, he ruffled his hair so that it lost the 'hat hair' look.

"How can you wear this? I've never seen anything like it!" Damien, after a brief examination, decided to try it on. The strange shape of the hat meant that it kept falling forward on him, no matter what he did to try and keep it in place. Instead of helping, William simply laughed at the merman's misfortune.

-

When William eventually agreed to help Damien wear the hat in a way that wouldn't fall off, he began to share stories of his early days in the army. Damien was enthralled, asking questions in a bid to learn more. It was no wonder that both were startled by the arrival of Mark and Celine with lanterns and all the necessities for a feast by the sea. Damien returned to the water while the humans set up, only to resurface when they were ready. His skin needed to be rehydrated for what he knew would be a long evening ahead.

Food, drink and merriment were had that night. Damien had hoisted himself onto the bench so he could fully join in. William honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night in the company of his dear friends. Perhaps not having to worry about a secret made it a lot easier to converse. For the first time in a long time, William didn't feel like an outsider amongst his own friends; but he didn't dwell on it much. Instead, he gave witty commentary during Mark's dramatic retelling of events the pair went through as youths.

At some point, Celine had fetched blankets from a sturdy, weathered box hidden amongst the box and wrapped one around herself and Damien. The twins nestled together as time passed, and Damien was content to enjoy being in the company of Celine and all her closest friends at last. 

The low flickering of the lanterns was the cue for the humans to return indoors. With William staying for a few days, Damien was content to let them go without feeling too sorry for himself. There would be plenty of time to chat. He sat on the rocks as he watched Mark help William back up the steps. Even from a distance, he could hear William barking something about how "this means nothing and I'm still stronger than you" and "I swear to God I'll push you down the stairs if you keep laughing at me Mark". 

"He's a good man, that Colonel." Damien jumped when Celine spoke. When did she move to sit beside him?! "When Mark introduced me, I was worried that his loud voice and brashness meant bad things, but he's been such a good, loyal friend over the last few years. I hope that he wasn't too 'much' for you today."

"N-no, no. I… he's exactly like you said he'd be." His eyes were on the two men as they disappeared out of view. "He's not angry that he didn't know about me, is he?"

"Nah." Celine leaned back, enjoying the light sea breeze. "He knew we were hiding something. I think he's happy to know he can be trusted. And he'll be stuck here for at least a day or two while Mark and I are working thanks to that broken foot. I'd bet he'll make it his mission to come down here alone just to show he can."

"I'd like that. He has a lot of stories to tell… Would it be weird if I ask him to keep talking?"

"Not as weird as it is that you've caught some sort of feelings for him. Did you get bitten by a love-bug, brother dearest?"

"Shut up, darling sister," Damien quickly nudged her, only to receive a counter-shove in response. "Just… don't tell him, alright? I know better than to interrupt a human marriage like that." He'd content himself with the company of the man who had captured his attention from the first letter. Celine slid off the rock and stretched. She glanced over her shoulder with a knowing smirk, gesturing to her left hand, which Damien knew was the hand with her engagement ring.

"His ring is on the other hand, Damien. It's a birthday present from his father. Goodnight, brother~" And off she went, gleefully ignoring her brother's confused questions.

"What do you mean he doesn't have a partner??"

#mermay #dilliam #mayor damien #wkm the colonel #writersofmark #(disclaimer: it's one in the morning. My friend is yelling at me to go to bed) #(but I refuse! This needs to be posted first!) #(so ignore any possible errors. It's super late) #(but now I sleep goodnight)

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - part 7 - the Isle and Backstabbers

WARNING: Heavy angst inbound! along with the inappropriate touching of minors and kidnapping

=

Minutes after Evie had finally finished her mini project for Ben’s isle gear, you were all rushing down the darkened halls of Auradon Prep's dorm building. Ben guided the way to the garage filled with the limos and the keys, moving to the side where the remotes and keys were stashed and grabbed one of each.

“Jay!” he turned, holding out his hands as Ben tossed the items to him “keys, remote!” Jay nodded, pressing the unlock button and running towards the limo that had gone off.

“Wait!” you all stopped as Evie suddenly yelled, moving to stand in front of Ben “Somethings wrong” you groaned as Evie tugged Ben’s beanie down and patted the sides of his head “there” Ben gave her a look and shook his head.

You all froze as a new male raspy teenager's voice came from behind you,  “SHOTGUN!��� you slowly turned and looked down, jaw-dropping as Dude happily stared up at you all. ‘I’ you thought, mind short-circuiting ‘why is Dude’s voice different??!’ he sounded like Beast Boy from Teen Titans??

“No Dude! Stay.” Carlos scolded, shaking his finger in Dude's face “the isles way too dangerous” Ben, Gil, Evie, you, and Jay just stared in shock (you were more in shock at the change of voice) as Dude whined and sat down.

“Did Dude just-“ Jay started, staring at Carlos as he pressed his lips together and nodded.

“talk?! Yeah, I know. I’ll tell you later” Carlos and Jay moved to get into the front seats, while you, Gil, and Evie moved towards the back end.

“let's go” Ben muttered, giving another glance to Dude before following after Evie. You sat down opposite of Evie, Gil sliding in next to you, and quickly buckled in, pressing the remote to remove the driver's seat divider.

“Okay,” Evie sighed, looking towards Jay as he started the limo and drove out of the garage “once we cross the bridge, park under the pier in the old garage. Got it?”

“Got it” Jay hummed, turning to the left as you left the bordars of Auradon prep. Almost an hour later you had finally arrived at the Auradon end of the bridge, Jay pressed the button and a golden bridge appeared under the limo, leading straight across the bridge to the isle. You crossed your arms and bit your lip.

Shivers had been running up your spine for almost two hours now, and the feeling in your stomach was just not going away.

Something was wrong, you could feel it…something had happened to Harry. “Jay please step on it….” You pleaded, feeling your nails dig into your palm as he nodded and pressed on the gas. Gil turned to you, furrowing his brows and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“it’s gonna be okay (y/n)” he murmured, smiling at you “Harry is going to be just fine”

-two hours earlier-

Harry kept his eyes open as he walked towards what was now Uma’s side of the wharf, not knowing if Uma saw him as a threat or not. He hoped she didn’t, she should know that he would never leave her side, not willingly.

He stopped, hearing the sound of footsteps walking his way…and the chatter of a monkey “Well well~ what do we have here!” Davy emerged from the shadows, a crooked grin on his face “ A lost Auradon brat?”

“Watch yer mouth Daisy” Harry snarled, smirking as Davy’s grin dropped at the nickname Harry had taunted him with since they were kids “even after being in Auradon fer six months I can still kick yer ass no problem”

Davy rolled his eyes and started to walk around harry as if he was a vulture hunting for its next meal “yeah yeah, whatever, but you kick my ass” he stopped, giving Harry a nasty grin “my crew will kick yours, and I don’t think you can handle more than three people at once~”

“crew?” Harry snorted, only knowing that Davy was now Uma’s ‘first mate’ “what crew? Yeh don’t got enough pull to even make someone take yer dinner order~” Harry purred, his brow twitching as Davy laughed “what.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that~ what was their name before they joined up with me n Uma??” Harry grit his teeth at the sound of his friend's name “oh yeah, the Warf Rats” Harry stopped, staring at Davy as the shorter teen cackled to his heart's content. “that’s right~ your crew abandoned you~ and it wasn’t even that long after they denounced you as leader and ran to me~ Uma on the other hand” Davy sighed, watching as Harry's eyes light up slightly at the mention of the sea witch. “held out for so. long. on the hope that you would come back and free her, she always told us you hadn't betrayed the isle, that you would come back for us, for her. But oh”

Davy took immense pride as Harry's bright eyes turned dark, and he looked towards the ground clenching his fists. “how heartbreaking for us to see that after only two months, she had given up….and now she wants revenge~ on you.” Harry twitched, making Davy let out a cold laugh and start to circle him again “and that buffoon Gil. Oh, and your little Auradon brat too, I don’t think she'll survive the first raid Uma rages on Auradon, poor thing, she's a beaut too….maybe I could convince Uma to let me have her as a toy-GUGH” Davy was suddenly shoved back into a wall, Harry's arm pressed against his throat as he looked into Harry's wide eyes, swimming with mania.

“listen here daisy~” Harry purred, his eyes seeming to flash red. “yeh won't even lay yer eyes on the lass because you won't even have the ability ta~ because I’m gonna rip out yer ugly little ones and squish ‘em like grapes, then fed em ta yeh.” Davy shivered at the madness induced cackle that echoed through the alleys around them.

Davy used his free hand to grab onto Harry’s arm and attempted to get out of his grip, stilling as he hardly even budged “how-when the fuck did you get so strong?!” Davy yelped, letting out a choked gurgle as Harry pressed his arm further into his throat.

“being in a place with actual food helps with that” Harry taunted, his eyes flashing again as Davy struggled to get out of his grip. He removed his other hand from Davy’s arm and grabbed his shirt, lifting him from the wall, into the air, and throwing him across the alley.

Davy coughed as he smacked into the wall, grunting loudly as he hit the ground with a loud smack and breathed in the dirt floor. He glanced up, eyes widening and rolling out of the way as Harry's sword came down just where his chest was moments earlier “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” he yelped dodging back quickly as Harry swung at him a couple of times.

Harry let out a loose chuckle, smirking at the wide-eyed Davy “yeh have no idea daisy~~” Davy drew his own sword and clashed it with Harry’s, the ringing sound of metal echoing around them.

Harry spun and swung his blade towards Davy's torso, giggling as Davy struggled to keep up with Harry's pace. Davy sidestepped attempting to flip his sword and stab harry, but he saw through his attempt and spun around, easily dodging Davy's blade and sliding his own through the hilt of Davy's sword and pulling it towards him. He caught it with his free hand and smirked, watching Davy slowly step back with a dark glare on his face.

“you’ll regret this Hook! And don’t think the crew will treat you the same as they did, you’re their enemy now” Davy stuck his tongue out childishly and ran down the alley he was near, disappearing from Harry's sight.

Harry was silent for a few moments, waiting for the sound of Davy's footsteps to disappear. As soon as they stopped Harry threw Davy's sword to the ground and gripped his head. “what happened ta meh” Harry groaned, clenching his eyes shut from the headache pulsing through his brain. He had never done that before, just fully let loose and go wild on his opponent, the only other time he had seen it happen was….he didn’t want to think about that, too many bad memories.

He sheathed his sword and shook his head and shoulders, looking around to see if he could jog his memory of any other ways to get to the chip shop without possibly alerting the, now apparently his enemy, crew. or any other isle goer that would tell his dad of his presence.

His eyes brightened and he set off to the other side of the Warf. The old cave system he and Uma used to travel along to get to school and back on time, that was it! He would be able to get to the chip shop no problem, and the entrance near it was just near the docks the restaurant rested on. He would finally be able to explain everything to Uma.

=

“what do you want boy” James growled in the darkness of his captain's quarters, numbly sipping on his nearly empty rum.

“Sorry to bother you captain but” Davy stepped into the candlelight, a crooked grin on his face, “I think I have some information that will please you” James turned his dull blue orbs to Davy and waved his hand for Smee, who squeaked and rushed over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a half-empty bottle of rum and ran over to James, the old washed-up captain chucking his now empty rum on the floor and popping open the “new” bottle. “well? Spill it boy” James rumbled, tipping his head back and taking a large swig of rum.

“Harry’s on the isle” James stopped, slowly looking over at the smugly grinning Davy and setting his rum on his desk.

“boy….if you are lying, it will be your head” James chuckled, standing up from his chair and hobbling to the main deck “LADS!” James’ crew stopped, looking towards their captain. His eyes flashed red as he gave a slanted grin to his old and withered face. “the boy is back” the crew hollered and started to make their way off the ship.

“he’ll be heading to the chip shop to go see Uma, if he gets to her before they do you won't be able to touch him” Davy sighed, crossing his arms and smirking at James “but I know exactly where he’ll be~” James patted Davys back.

“good form my boy, now go get my son for me, he has some….” He turned back to his quarters, his eyes flashing red again “chores to do~”

Davy nodded, cackling as the crew following him back to the chip shop.

Smee watched in horror as the crew hollered and jeered at the mere thought of getting their hands-on Harry….again.

“oh, my” Smee whispered, looking back to see James drinking himself stupid in “celebration” for his son's return “I-have-I must” he snuck off the ship, running towards Harriet's ship that rested even farther up the docks “I must stop this! It's gone on long enough!”

=

Harry popped open the old cellar-like doors and caught them before they could crash against the stone wall. He carefully climbed out of the cave system and shut the cellar doors behind him. He stepped over the small river like crack in the slick rock and grabbed onto the wooden ladder that led back up to the main docks, where Ursula’s Chip Shop was right next to.

He grunted slightly in effort as he stepped onto the old rotten wooden dock that no matter how hard you scrubbed and cleaned, forever smelled like fish and blood. He took a quick glance around and sigh, most of the residents around this area were either asleep, or inside the chip shop. He snuck around the back and looked up towards Uma’s window, remembering that around this time of night was her only break and she would spend her 5 minutes of privacy up in her room.

“Uma!” he whisper-yelled, looking down and picking up a small pebble, he chucked it at the thin pane of glass and whisper-yelled her name again “Uma! Um-mmfp!” A large hand clamped around his mouth, another set of arms grabbing his own and wrapping a tight rope around his wrists and upper arms.

“mmgf?!” Harry lunged forward halfway breaking free of the unknown person's grip and biting on the hand that covered his mouth, the person yelped and shook his hand away from Harry. “UMA! HEL-mmm!” a dirty cloth was tossed between his open teeth and pulled back, making harry yelp and clamp down on the cloth to alleviate the burning pain that came from the tug. The cloth was quickly tied in a knot behind his head and he was shoved to the ground, multiple hands holding him down.

He struggled to look over his should, but he wished he didn’t as he locked eyes with the hungry ones of his father's crew. ‘no’ he thought, feeling his nose burn as he started to struggle, his breath shortening as he felt ropes bound around his legs and thighs, preventing movement completely ‘please Hades no!’

“hello there again Hook~” Harry looked up, growling at the newest addition to the kidnapping group as Davy stepped into the street lights of the docks. “nice night isn’t it~ now, you are going to do me a favor” he kneeled next to Harrys struggling form, smirking as the men holding him down copped a feel on Harry's thighs and ass. Ooh how he reveled in the tears that gathered in Harrys eyes. “you are going to go with them, not like you have a choice, and stay away from Uma, I won't have you ruining my plans for her” Harrys brows furrowed, plans what plans?? “oh, I can see it, you want to know what is I’m planning? Well too bad, I've learned that monologuing only helps the hero defeat the villain….have fun Harry~ I’m sure many people on the isle missed you~” Davy gave a mocking wave as Harry was hefted up to his feet and dragged away from the chip shop.

Hot tears ran down Harry's cheeks as he listened to the disgusting jeers of his father's crew, all talking about how good it would feel to get buried in his ass gain ‘please, Hades no, someone…help me, Uma, Harriet, uncle Smee!’ he sobbed through the dirty cloth, once more attempting to break free of the two crew members grip, who simply laughed at his attempt and carried on dragging him towards his father's dreadful ship ‘(y/n)…help me!!!’

Davy dropped his smirk as someone stepped out onto the docks in front of the chip shop, he turned, bowing slightly as he locked eyes with Uma, who was looking around on the docks with a raised brow “did you hear anything?” she asked, crossing her arms and cocking her hip.

Davy pursed his lips, shaking his head as he glanced around “nothing other than the usual sounds captain” he sighed, walking towards the chip shop and passing Uma

“I thought I heard my name” Davy stopped “like…I thought I heard Harry” she muttered, turning to Davy with hopeful eyes “did you hear anything like that?” Davy just stared at her, his face blank.

“I didn’t hear anything like that” he hummed, glancing off towards the sea that led to Auradon “perhaps you’re hearing things?”

Uma watched him for a moment, her eyes looking into his very soul, finally, she looked away, hand trailing down her arm to mess with her red and black beaded bracelet. “maybe…” she muttered, staring out onto the ocean with dull eyes before she spun around and stormed back into the chip shop, huffing as her mother screamed at her to get the dishes done. “IM COMING! Sheesh”

Davy smirked at Uma’s receding back, soon, he would be captain. And shrimpy would be at the bottom of the ocean, drowned with the rest of Auradon.

=

After 5 agonizing minutes of waiting for Jay to finally drive the limo across the isle barrier, he parked it in the old garage and you all quickly climbed out. You, Carlos, and Gil ran for the large sheets to cover the limo to keep it hidden from the isle residents. “Ben!” Carlos called, the king perked up from beside Evie and trotted over to Carlos “help us with the tarp” Ben nodded and grabbed the other end of the white sheet Gil was holding, walking back over to the limo and tossing it over the hood, Jay catching the other side and draped the rest of it over the front of the car.

You and Carlos tossed your sheet to Evie, who gasped in slight shock as it smacked her in the face “sorry Evie” you winced, continuing to cover the limo as Jay took over for Evie and helped you finish covering the car.

“it's really weird being back here” Evie muttered to Jay, her eyes flying over every corner of the dark garage. Jay gave her a soft look and rubbed her shoulder.

“we’ll get in and get out” Evie gave a shallow nod and looked over at Ben, who was peeking through the large pipe leading to the wharf.

“Hey, what's in here?!” Carlos winced, running over to Ben and pulling him away from the pipe. Jay patted Ben's shoulder and shook his head.

“you don’t wanna know” you sighed, crossing your arms and looking through the pipe, just through there was Uma’s ship….and maybe Harry.

Your gut told you different but you held out on the hope that Harry had met up with Uma and was explaining everything to her.

“do you think Harrys talking to Uma right now?” Gil whispered to you, standing next to you and looking down the tunnel. You looked up at him and shrugged, shoulders falling as he sighed and turned back to ben and the vks.

You pulled on the hood trapped beneath Harry's jacket and pulled it over your head, sighing as Carlos stood in front of the group and held his arms out to stop any of you from passing him.

“hey, guys. Keep it chill, all right? last thing we need is our parents figuring out we’re here” Jay, Gil, and Evie gave a numb nod, while Ben glanced around nervously. Carlos turned and walked towards the open alley opposite of the tunnel, the rest of you close behind.

You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and setting your hand on the hilt of Harry's cutlass. ‘just walk like you’ve been sent to murder Captain America’ you thought to yourself, smirking as you remembered the whole Tumblr post about ‘murder walking’

(a/n: if you don’t know what I’m talking about here)

You rounded the corner, noticing two young boys quickly dodge out of your way and tuck themselves into a corner, keeping their eyes on you before Evie drew their gaze. You gripped onto your hit as the two boys attempted to rush Evie, one somehow getting her wallet before she easily snatched their arms, drawing them closer to her “Hey-what-Stop!”

The boys, minus Ben, turned at Evie's call, walking back towards you and watching the scene go down. Evie looked at the two boys faces and sighed, releasing their arms and taking a step towards you “Just take it.” they stared at her in shock, the shorter boy glancing from the wallet to Evie “Go on” the boys smiled at each other and ran the opposite way, their laughter echoing back at you.

Evie sighed turning towards you and rolling her eyes, she pushed your shoulder to turn you around and ran after Ben as he walked further into the market “Ben.” She muttered, you scoffed and shook your head and quickly followed after her, the boys close behind as Evie easily found Ben and pulled him back from a snarling isle resident “Ben, stop. Just stop!”

“what-why?” you grabbed onto his other shoulder and waved around the empty half of the market.

“This ain't Auradon beasty boy, it’s the isle” Jay leaned forward, his face towards Ben but his eyes constantly looking around.

“Keep your hands in your pockets unless you’re stealing” Ben opened his mouth, but Carlos interrupted him.

“you either strut or slouch” Ben tried to speak again but Evie silenced him again.

“and never, ever smile” Ben started at the five of you for a moment before he spoke again.

“okay than-“ Gil covered Ben's mouth, shushing him.

“no! No thank you’s and drop the please too, that kinda stuff will get you gutted round here” Gil sighed, releasing Ben's face and taking a step back. Evie sighed, leaning on Ben's shoulder and shaking her head.

“you need to just….Chill~”

(I’m not writing chillin’ like a villain so just imagine urself n Gil in the song bustin some moves because you can and ur not Ben whose failing in the background have fun)

You groaned lightly as Ben half shuffle-strut down the alley, the vks cheering him on as he did a little spin. You face palmed as a pirate suddenly smacked into Ben's side.

And here you thought with Gil on your “side” this part wouldn’t happen! The five of you rushed up to Ben's side, you and Gil taking a good look at the pirate.

He seemed to be part of Uma’s crew; her pirate octopus symbol stenciled onto his jackets front pocket. “hey” the pirate muttered, scratching at his thin blonde beard “I know you”

“uh, nope, don’t know you either man” Ben tried to play it cool, but you could see his hands shaking from a mile away.

“no-no, I know you….King Ben” the pirate grinned, taking off his dark brown tricorn hat and giving Ben a mock bow “what an honor to meet you your majesty~ why I got a friend who would be interested in meeting-holy shi- Gil?!” Gil pressed his lips together and looked away from the pirate, his fists clenching so hard you could hear the leather gloves creak.  “and-Evie, Jay, Carlos?” the pirate let out a laugh, a twinkle in his eye that you didn’t trust “oooh you’re all back on the isle-hey get back here!” you shoved at Evie and Ben urging them to finally move their butts and run.

Gabe huffed and ruffled his short hair, then smirked “Uma’s gonna love this!” he turned and bolted back towards the docks, he was gonna get a weeks’ worth of free food with this information!

Gil glanced back at his ex-pirate crew member and shook his head “Gabe’s a lot different than I remember” he sighed, sliding on his boots a bit as the six of them took a hard right to finally reach the alley where the core fours hideout was.

“Gabe?” you asked, trying to catch your breath as the leather jacket was overheating you slightly “who’s….Gabe?”

“Gabe, one of Harrys Warf rats from before….I guess he’s running with another crowd now” Gil sighed, rubbing the back of his head and watching as Jay grabbed a midsized rock and chucked it at the sign, the metal gate swinging up. “wait if you're from your world where-how do you not know his name?”

“not all the crew names were revealed, the most we got was Uma, the captain, Harry; the first mate, you; the second mate slash quartermaster. Then there were the crew members, Jonas, Bonnie, Desiree, Gonzo aaand….yeah that’s it…” Gil pursed his lips, watching Ben climb up the stairs and up towards Mal.

“That’s only a quarter of the crew” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the alleyway wall “…okay I can think of nothing else to talk about, how long do you’ll think they'll be?”

You shrugged, looking up at the ascending stairways, still hearing Ben’s footsteps climb up. “Dunno, ten bucks says Mal breaks it off with him”

“Fifteen says Ben convinces her to come back to Auradon” Gil shot back, grinning slightly as you held out your hand.

“Seal” you shook hands and leaned back against the wall, now waiting in silence for Ben and Mal, or just Ben to come back downstairs.

You hoped Mal knew where Harry was.

-end of part 7-

There it is~ part 7! I was gonna include Mal and Ben's heart to heart but decide to leave that for the next chapter! So, the next chapter will open with Mal n Ben and then go back to the reader n the vks!

And I know I know, yall DEFINITELY HATE Davy now AND James…and his crew lol, I hated writing that I’m sorry. Don’t worry tho, Harry will be givin justice!!!! Reader gon go ham on their asses.

Also, dis is Gabe for those who don’t know what he looks like,

 he is part of Uma’s crew in d2 and 3, but he has no official name so I took @askauradonprep​’s name for him (hopefully that’s okay~)

Also hope yall don’t mind me not writing chillin’ I was writing this at like, 3:30 and didn’t feel like writing it all out.

permtaglist

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​

@musicarose​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​

@remembered-license​ @random-thoughts-003​

@verboetoperee​ @rintheemolion​ @imtryingthisout​

taglist

@thesailbells​ @beccad10x​

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #harry hook whump #james hook #angst #davy is an asshole #told yall you would hate me #im prepared for the hate messages for davy n hook bring em on #YES reader will be getting revenge for harry just as she did in poyw #she gon kick james AND davys ass #Harriet probably in the next part #mal n ben talk in the beginning of the next part #they actually gonna talk it out #both blame the other but also know they themselves are at fault #CHARACTER DEVEOPMENT PEOPLE

[moonah-rose]

Eavesdrop

A quick alternate to Earshot, but set in canon S2 rather than NPL, where the demons focus on Michael for their taunting.

*

Second book in on the top shelf. That’s the one to pull to unlock the secret door hidden in the wall behind Michael’s desk. She’s supposedly the only other being, besides Janet, in this micro-universe privy to that bit of info. It leads to a hallway that extends to a secret chamber filled with a bunch of Earth collectables along with, recently added on her suggestion, a mini-arcade with classic game machines and a karaoke stand. The walls were sound proof, obviously.

She’s not here to escape a lecture from Chidi about messing up the laundry by hanging out in her demon pal’s very own ‘bud hole’ this time. Her ear is pressed to the closed panel after sealing herself in, waiting for the big Satanic tree to arrive.

To her surprise, and slight annoyance, he hadn’t arrived alone.

“You shouldn’t be getting drunk like this. What if the humans saw you? Everyone here is supposed to be abstinent of all vices!” Michael had grumbled, a ruckus of giggles behind him.

“That’s the point, dummy! It’s a ‘Purge’ night!” Vicky cackled; “Tell ‘im again, Gunner!”

“I got the idea off this human movie - one night, we’re allowed to do any shirt we wanted without consequence! We can drink, smoke, do drugs, stab and bite to our black hearts content!”

“NO! Definitely no stabbing! Or hurting any of them...Physically!” He’d struggled to make that last detail sound natural.

Good save, bud, Eleanor had thought.

Another demon, Petra, Eleanor thinks, had groaned; “Ugh, you are such a buzzkill lately. Can’t you see how awesome this idea is? Think about how wasted Eleanor is gonna let herself get! That dork, Jason, is gonna be high as a kite and it will make Chidi and Tahani wanna cower inside their homes! It’s genius!” 

Eleanor had almost let herself be excited for the idea of trying to make the most of this supposed ‘torture’, similar to the one at Tahani’s party, which even Michael had said she hadn’t done too bad at acting and preparing the chaos sequence the next morning. She could hear the worry in Michael’s response though, being surrounded by three hundred demons, losing their inhibitions and wanting to let off steam in the most ‘passionate’ way possible, had the potential to go very wrong. For all of them.

As she listened, Michael’s attempts to reign in his rogue employees soon descended into outright pleading, which only gave him more scorn in return.

“Look just...remember what our goal is here. I get that you’re all frustrated but we’re doing so well and all I ask is that you don’t go too far on the humans, please.” He’d tried to ask, nicely. Wrong move.

The laughter nearly shook the building.

“Jeez! If you love these humans so much, why don’t you fork them?” Bambadjan teased.

“Nah, let’s face it, not even those cockroaches would wanna go near that disgusting skin suit with all it’s musty folds.” Vicky responded; “...Oh, what’s wrong, Mikey? It’s not like we’re insulting ‘you’ after all...Unless you’re starting to feel a little too cosy in that costume of yours.”

Eleanor’s stomach twisted on his behalf. She knew how much he loved that suit; he was so forking vain, after all. But then again, is it vanity if it’s not really his body? He just wishes it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michael responded, quietly.

“Then prove it, dude! Take it off! Strip! Todd goes streaking every night.” Gunner encouraged.

“You know I can’t! It’s not the same for me.”

“Maybe I’ll take mine off tonight. Imagine how much Mendoza will freak out when he sees a giant acid snake coming for him after too many mushrooms!” Vicky joked; “It’s still ten times better than any torture method you’ve come up with for them, Mike. Maybe melting their brains by revealing your demon form will provide us some results.”

Is it really that bad? Eleanor was naively hoping there was some sexy bald goat-man underneath that suit. Dude was so shifty about it, like he didn’t wanna spoil the mystery. Was it more than that? Was he ashamed?

“You’ve all made your point, have your Purge and I’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. Just go easy on the humans - I insist.” Michael sounded so tired.

“Oh he ‘insists’!? Did you hear that guys? Mikey, who failed his own experiment over eight hundred times, wants to ‘insist’!” Vicky sneers.

“Well I insist that he shuts his fugly food hole and leave the masters to our job!” Petra cackled; “And he gets back to trying to fork his paperclips or whatever shirt you get up to here.”

That sounded painful, Eleanor couldn’t stop herself picturing it.

“Jeez, Mike, you always were a loser but there’s really no hope for you, is there. Before you were just the quiet nerd no one wanted to hang out with because of your weird fixation with Earth-people. Soon you’re gonna be known as the idiot who failed his first experiment; even if the rest of us do manage to salvage it for Shawn, we’ll all know the truth about how badly you suuucked!”

It took all of Eleanor’s strength not to shove the panel open, stomp over and grab Vicky’s hair to slam her face into the desk. They all just followed him in there to bully him?! They were the losers.

“C’mon, guys! We should have known he wouldn’t have wanted to join our party, it’s not like he’s used to being invited to any.” Bambadjan added, inciting more giggles.

“See you in the morning, dumb-ash. Be up bright and early to clean up our shirt, as you say, chop chop!”

Counting to ten to contain her rage luckily meets up with the sound of the door closing, the demons exiting the building.

She carefully opens the secret door, seeing Michael sat in his chair, hands folded on his lap, eyes cast down. When he hears her soft footsteps, his head turns, expression shifting to try to cover the wobbling lip she’d briefly caught sight of. He sniffs and rubs his upper lip with his hand.

“Eleanor!” Michael straightens up; “Were you there the whole time? What if they’d seen you or...sensed you were there?”

“Relax, man, they didn’t see shirt, it’s cool.” She puts her hand up; “...You okay?”

He looks to the side, forcing his ‘superior’ smirk, “Uhh, yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Just...having a bit of workplace banter, as they say.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘banter’ to me, dude.” She edges closer, slowly, knowing that if he’s as much like her as she knows, he’s gonna be like a wounded tiger right now.

Getting too close, too quick, is gonna get her eyes clawed out. She would know, she’s swung a few claws herself.

Michael sniffs, struggling to keep his mask on; “M’fine, Eleanor, really. You better go prepare for this Purge or whatever they were talking about, go enjoy yourself or...make sure the others are safe-.”

His words are cut off by her weight falling down onto his lap, arms looping around his neck as she embraces him. Fork it. Screw being slow and steady; the demon was about ready to cry.

“Wha....What are you doing?” Michael stutters, stiffening.

“Hugging you, idiot...Sorry, I mean that affectionately,” She says against his ear.

“W-why?”

She shrugs, still hugging him tight, shuffling on his knees; “’Cause you need it. ‘Cause it’s the quickest way to let you know that all those things those demons said was garbage. Fork, have they always talked to you like that?”

His silence answers her question.

She squeezes him again; “Damn, no wonder you’re as new to this whole friend thing as me.”

“Demons insult each other all the time, Eleanor, it’s how we compliment each other. We’re meant to enjoy it.”

That made zero sense. 

“But you don’t....do you?”

Michael breaths in deep against her. Then she shakes her head, leaning into her shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause I’m a freak...I’m wrong, just like they say...like Shawn says...I’m just a failure of a demon.”

“That’s a good thing in my books, man.” Eleanor pulls back, looking at him, admiringly; “You might be failing as a demon but, I have it on good authority, you are rocking it as a newbie human. And I know you think we’re all gross and stupid but...I know you love us.”

He wrinkles his nose, trying to look as though he denied it, yet refusing to. His eyes gaze into hers, a rush of color brightening his cheeks.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say it, I know you’re not quite ready there yet.” She knows herself how difficult it is to say those three words, to anyone; “But we’re your friends. We want you on our team, Michael, not just ‘cause it stops you torturing us but...Because you’re a cool guy to be around, when you’re not giving paperclip showers or putting us in purple space bubbles.”

A smile threatened to crack on Michael’s face as he squirmed beneath her. Was it really this easy to make an all-powerful being look so shy and bashful? It was adorable.

She moves her hand up to his cheek, thumb stroking below his eye, reddened with unshed tears.

“Also...I feel kinda obliged to confess something.” She says, “This skin-suit? Your skin-suit? What Vicky said was bull-shirt. All of it. Not only is this suit as much you as whatever demony essence you got going on underneath...But it’s also not bad looking either. I might even go as far to say ‘handsome’. In like a Richard Gere in Pretty Woman way.”

“R-really?” He looks hopeful for a second; “I mean...I know it’s gorgeous, but I wouldn’t expect...I mean I wouldn’t want you - or any human - to ever wanna-.”

She cuts his babbling off again with a kiss on the cheek.

He’s frozen now.

Eleanor grins; “That prove it for you? You know me, I don’t give out pity kisses.”

Michael squirmed again, biting his lip, mumbling something which might have been ‘gross’ or ‘weird food holes’, but he doesn’t move his hands away from where they’ve found the small of her back.

“Hey...how about we do one quick bit of karaoke before we go brief the others on tonight. You can pick the song.” She says, giving his bow-tie the smallest tug.

He smiles, touched, then nods; “Sounds good...”

“Cool. Also, don’t open that drawer on your desk until you’ve properly cheered up - I rigged it with a pie to get thrown in your face as revenge for cheating off my paper earlier!”

“Oh, pies are the best prank! I wish you hadn’t told me now, you’ve spoiled the surprise.”

Eleanor giggles as she takes his hand, leading him to his bud-hole; “You know me, demon buddy. I’m always full of surprises.”

His fingers squeezed hers; “That you are.”

#hellstrop minific #michael x eleanor #fluff #emotional hurt/comfort

[trillian-anders]

marked

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, violence. 

word count: 10748

description: soulmate!au; just because you’re meant to be together doesn’t mean it always works out that way. what happens when you’re not completely ready to meet your soulmate? 

prompt: “that’s not how soulmates are supposed to react to each other”

note: happy belated birthday love, i hope this year finds you well and i hope you don’t get too hungover (sorry this took so long) 

for @jbbuckybarnes​;; birthday challenge

You’ve had their tattoo your entire life. That’s what you called it too. Their tattoo. It didn’t feel like yours. The tiny brand of their fated love. Whoever they were, they were already a fully formed adult by the time you were born. The nurse who wiped the blood and mucus off of your little body gasping seeing the soft little bloom on your chubby arm. 

You parents had been a little alarmed. The tattoos forming once the partner was eighteen years old, the age gap startling. But the fates were to be trusted. So life went on. 

At first when you were a little girl, you’d loved the little string of flowers on your forearm. You’d colored it in with markers and outlined it every day, but you didn’t understand what it was then. They were called bleeding hearts. The strand of them across your entire forearm. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to get it until you were an adult.” Her name was Amy. You didn’t get along with Amy. “Does that mean that you’re going to be with an old person?” A cackle from her group of friends. You sunk lower into your desk, covering your arm with your hand and pulling it in tight to your body. 

It became something they’d tease you about for years. 

The bleeding hearts that your Mother had planted, you came to resent them. The ones painted onto your childhood bedroom’s walls you’d begged them to be covered up. You started using makeup to cover up the black outline of the offending flowers, trying to gain some kind of normalcy. 

It’s funny how a couple of cruel kids can totally change your outlook on something that should be so simple, so easy. 

But it made you think, what if he was an old man? By the time you were eighteen he would be almost forty. That is, if he was exactly eighteen when you were born. There were possibilities outside of the norm, like usually people would be wondering what their partner was doing right now. What did they want to do with their lives? This person, whoever they were, man or woman, must have been alarmed that their flower never showed up. Their right arm staunchly blank until you yourself turned eighteen. 

You wondered that night, as your family celebrated your birthday, as you blew out your candles, if they were just as panicked as you were. 

x

The doctors stalled. Their movements halted, and the asset didn’t know why. What were they doing? New procedure? They murmured to each other. Passing by closely, a nurse resumed strapping him down, his bones still chilled from cryostasis. “Soulmate.” He heard. 

It scratched at him from the back of his mind, the word. He’d heard it before. He knew what it meant of course, soulmates. He’d separated one from another many times. Instructed to dispatch one and let the other live, it didn’t matter which one. 

He did his job, quickly and efficiently. He had to. 

A mouth guard placed between his teeth and his heart began to race in a Pavlovian response. Fingers clenching and unclenching with anticipation. His legs and arms being restrained before the metal plates would close over his face and the pain would begin. 

“I have a new mission for you,” Alexander Pierce. The man who was in charge. His boss. His master. “It’s ongoing. Concurrent with any other missions I ask of you, do you understand?” He felt himself nod, mind still scrambled, dazed. “You see this?” His wrist was harshly turned over, the black lines swirling around it he’d never seen before. “If you ever see this on someone else, this exact tattoo, you bring them here. Do you understand?” The asset’s eyes glazed over, unfocused. Pierce smacked him upside his head, gripping his face tightly and pulling his gaze into his. “Do you understand soldier?” 

“Yes, I understand.” 

x

The sun rose and set with no event. You hadn’t found him. Years passed and your life went on. The apprehension and the fear of finding him out there somewhere would never leave. Your friends found their soulmates, they got married, some even had kids now. And you were still alone. 

“You don’t want to meet him?” Your best friend, Nia asked. She wrapped a perfectly curled strand of hair around her finger, tightly pinning it with a clip and spraying it with hair spray. Her tattoo was of a set of constellations, it was on her collarbone. Her husband’s matching one was found in your first year of college. The two found each other in a chem lab and babbled to one another over renewable energy and found they both wanted to work for the same ecological lab that was currently designing a plastic made from trees, something they worked together to produce. 

You watched her in the mirror curl your hair for another college friend’s wedding, the bride and groom having met each other in a perfect meet-cute, their dogs both racing towards each other in the middle of central park. Screaming and tripping and tumbling into one another and realizing they had the very same perfect little heart on their ring fingers. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to meet him,” You explain, watching Nia’s perfectly manicured fingers twirl another perfect curl away from the iron, “I’m just apprehensive.” And that was the truth. 

You wanted what all your friends had, really. It’s just what happened was you didn’t see an issue in having an older soulmate until your classmates pointed out it was weird to have an older soulmate and now that it was pointed out to you that it was weird to have an older soulmate now you think it’s weird to have an older soulmate. 

But that’s hard to say to people. 

“Everyone is nervous to meet their soulmate,” Nia soothed, “But that person is the other side of your coin, they’re someone who the fates have created specifically for you.” And that’s what is so scary. Someone is out there waiting for you and it gives you a shit ton of anxiety.

x

“Are you sure you’re ready for this Buck?” Steve stood in the doorway behind him, geared up, watching Bucky tighten the laces on his boots. 

“Gotta get back into it sometime don’t I?” Bucky looked up at his long-time friend. Steve’s jaw was clenched, clearly on the fence about letting him back in the field. 

“If you feel it at all going south, just let me know. We can get you out of there, and fast.” Bucky stood, clipping his holster on his back he said, 

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go.” 

x

The wedding was beautiful. In Central Park where they’d met. The early summer sun was warm, but not overbearingly so. It was a perfect day for a wedding and you were already a little drunk. They did this thing with champagne and chambord that was really quenching your thirst and for whatever reason your glass seemed to never be empty. It was easy to lose yourself in the happiness of the day, dancing, drinking, and eating your weight in hors d'oeuvres. 

“Here, c’mon, let’s get a picture.” There was a large floral background weaved with beautiful blooms and greens. The group that were your best friends in college, the ones you smoked way too much weed with and drank yourself blind on twisted teas with, and the groom, whose bathtub you’d woken up in more than once, a group picture at his wedding that you were sure would start endless conversations about late night Taco Bell runs and do you remember this embarrassing thing you did this one time? 

But you couldn’t quite remember what happened after that. It all happened so fast. Spillover from some Avengers fight nearby. There was an explosion, smoke, then triage. 

You couldn’t breathe. The coughing was hard on your throat, gasping for breath. A clear plastic mask was fitted over your face, pure oxygen began pumping into the mask, you could feel yourself shuffled around, doors to an ambulance closing. Your blood was thin from the alcohol. You heard something about a transfusion and then it was dark. 

x

Bucky’s heart was racing as he came out through the fog. It was just like when they would pull him out of cryo. Muddled and cold. 

“Buck.” Steve’s voice called. “Can you hear me?” He couldn’t move his arms. He couldn’t move his legs. “Bucky?” It was a tiled ceiling. White. It hurt his eyes at first glance. He was at the compound. 

He didn’t know how it went south so fast. The mission was going to be intense, he knew, but he didn’t realize the series of tunnels that twisted through the city would lead them to central park. Right into a trap. The explosion he remembers, resurfacing he remembers, what he doesn’t remember was what happened when he was trying to grab civilians out of the way. It all became a blur then. 

“What happened back there?” Steve’s brow pulled in concern, he was changed, freshly washed and sitting in the chair next to the bed in the med room. 

“I don’t know.” Arms flexing against the restraints, “Let me outta here.” A buzz and a chink sound and the metal restraints unlocked and retreated back into the frame of the bed. Bucky sat up and swung his legs over the side, eyes locking onto the bleeding hearts on his arm and halting, before hastily tugging his sleeve down to cover it. 

“I think you need to talk to Shuri.” Steve stepped back and let Bucky stand, “There’s still something going on in there.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

x

Have you ever had a trach? A large plastic tube down your throat, it helps you breathe but it’s uncomfortable, and startling when you wake up and you could feel it hard against your tongue and throat. Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes from the harsh lights. A steady beep in the background as you reached consciousness and realized your surroundings. 

“Hey sweetheart.” Your Mom, brushing hair out of your face and soothing your rising heart rate, “You’re okay, you’re okay. Let me get the nurse.” 

Everyone for the most part was fine, the blast came from the ground, feet away from the reception. There were guests in critical condition in the ICU but no one had died. Bride and Groom were in the same condition as you were, bruised and with a broken bone or two but mostly fine. 

A cast sat, freshly dried on your right arm, from wrist to elbow. Your soul mark covered by plaster. Your throat hurt after the trach was removed and you were left to recover in your childhood bedroom. 

“It’s unbelievable.” Your Dad sat in his recliner, feet up, drinking what must have been his third cup of coffee that day. “Ross is a joke.” The news had been all about the Avengers and what happened in central park. Wedding guests who hadn’t been injured were interviewed, joggers, a family visiting from some other state with two small children. There was a replay of events, in between the rubble and smoke were the Avengers fighting a group with steel masks on, one with white scratching in the shape of a skull and ‘x’ scraped on the chest plate. They called him Crossbones. He was their leader. Supposedly. 

“If he were to just let the Avengers do their job, these criminals wouldn’t be getting so close to the city.” A gruff response to the newscaster talking about what Secretary Ross had issued in a statement earlier. 

“We are doing everything we can to find the perpetrators responsible for the Central Park bombing,” A simple, practiced response, “We will be working tirelessly until they are caught and brought to justice.” Your father scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“They’ll sit on their thumbs until the incident is forgotten and then maybe by then whatever group this is will have another bombing ready to go.” A knock on the door. Your Mother leaving the other side of the couch where she was listening, but not really while scrolling through her facebook page on her phone. 

“Hello, how can I help you?” The pleasant chirp of her voice. You couldn’t hear what was on the other end but moments later she reappeared in the living room, two men in suits in tow. “Y/N, honey, these men work with the government, they just have a couple questions for you about the incident.” 

The two men looked straight out of men in black, almost comically so. They said that they worked with the Avengers and it made your parents skeptical of them. Why would the Avengers send someone out to talk to you in the first place? You already had given your report to the police in the hospital. It didn’t make any sense. 

But you answered their questions and about an hour later they were on their way out the door and you hoped they wouldn’t be back. Something just seemed off about them. 

Life went on, as it does. 

You were back at work, girls nights on Thursdays having margarita pitchers and tacos at Nia’s penthouse apartment, her and her husband had the good fortune of working for a leading ecological engineering company where they both worked side by side in a lab attempting to mass produce reusable and biodegradable alternatives to the current norm. Chinese takeout containers in your fridge and the same bag of salad you throw out and replace each week. Normal. 

Except for one thing that made you feel a little crazy. You felt like you were being watched. 

x

Something was wrong, Bucky knew that, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. It was itching at the back of his mind. Something he had forgotten. Something he couldn’t piece together. It was killing him. 

He remembered everything from before. Every hit, every instruction, every time he was put in that chair and his brain was scrambled. Everything except one thing in particular. 

Those bleeding hearts on his arm. 

He knew that he didn’t have them during the war. It was a point of contention for him, never getting his soul mark, he was endlessly sensitive about it. Insecure. He wondered if maybe the fates hadn’t chosen one for him. Maybe he was a mistake, a flaw in the soulmate system. He didn’t have one. Which is why in that little apartment in Bucharest that he found himself staring at the thin and dark black lines on his right arm. 

Was this always meant to happen? He wrought his brain in those early days, when did this happen. When did his soulmate become an adult? How long ago was it? How old are they now? 

The apartment smelled like shit. Plumbing was out somewhere, the neighbors next door constantly screamed at each other, but it kept him hidden. It gave him time to think before he would let Steve find him. 

But those flowers. 

He couldn’t remember. It was gone. 

“It would have interfered with their plans,” Shuri explained, “If you had a soulmate that person might have been overwhelming enough to you to deter your mission.” The lab had been updated since he’d last been here. New gadgets and equipment scattered about in an organized but cluttered way. 

Shuri was always working on something new and she frequently called him down to work on his arm. Something to give it more feeling, now he couldn’t just feel pressure and temperature, he had actual nerve endings. “They’ll immediately close at the hub if something were to happen, though I don’t imagine you being able to destroy this arm easily.” The dark vibranium and gold.

Bucky nods in agreement, “That makes sense.” She gives him an odd look. 

“We could go deeper,” She continues, “They’ve probably buried it deep into your psyche.” It wasn’t a painful process, but it was uncomfortable. Bucky trusted Shuri and he wanted to know. He had to know. 

This person, whoever they were, was made for him. He knew that he wasn’t ready for them, for that relationship, but he could at least figure out when the flowers bloomed on his arm and put a timeline together. That’s what he needed. 

It was like falling asleep in the bath. 

Warm and comfortable, a little foggy. Sleep sets on and you find yourself sinking, slipping further into the heat. Then the inhale of water, burning against your lungs and you’re leaning over the side, fully awake and coughing liquid. 

Then again, 

And again.

Until it’s clear. 

He needed to stay far away from you, whoever you were. 

x

If there was one thing you loved about taking the NYC subway it was people-watching. Not able to happen when it was rush hour and you’d be shoved between an overweight man with a staring problem and an older woman who refused to sit because it was sexist, but on your way home after a late shift. When you had your seat and there were only ten other people in the car with you. 

This observance showed you an old man headed home with a cloth tote of groceries. You assumed he was a professor because who else wears tweed on top of a vest and tie. The leather attache case also seemed very professor-like. 

There was a group of kids, probably fresh out of high school, laughing loudly and joking around at the front of the car. One of them recording the other three on their phone, a short clipped tune playing on the phone. Probably something for TikTok. 

There was a couple and both had a bike with them. The girl was in loose cotton overalls and had lavender hair. The guy’s hair was long, reaching just below his shoulders, heavily tattooed, and thin. He had tapered cuffed jeans and a floral button down on. They would kiss every couple minutes in between talking softly. 

The weirdest group were the three men at the end of the subway car. They gave you a weird vibe, but being around seven other people made you feel a little more safe. 

They weren’t talking to each other, looking at their phones, but something made you feel like they were watching you when you weren’t looking. You just hoped they weren’t getting off at your stop. 

“This paranoia,” your therapist explained, “Is most likely rooted in the incident. You were comfortable and your guard was down.” And then the attack. “It’s perfectly normal to be experiencing some PTSD after being through a traumatic event.” 

But it felt so superficial. Other people have had worse situations. No one was hurt that badly. Yes, your cast itches like hell, but you didn’t have to live through the blip. You were one of the ones who blipped, so it was like it never even happened. 

You had two parents who really loved you and supported your decisions. They didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to and they always were there if you needed help. 

You had a good group of friends who were reliable and got together once a week like adults do. You had a nice studio apartment not too far away from the good part of town and a job that you excelled at. 

There were people who had a bad day, every day. And you had a truly bad day once and now you were this paranoid mess that always felt like the other shoe was about to drop. 

“Your worst day is your worst day,” is what she said, “Don’t compare yourself to others, their trauma does not discount your trauma.” 

But it still didn’t feel right. 

You were regretting bringing your tumbler out to work. Always at the end of the night, full of water or tea, and not wanting to carry it anymore you dumped it out on the street. Another block and you’ll be home. Only one of the men got off at your stop. Tumbler stored in your backpack you white knuckle your keys in your fist. He was headed in the same direction. 

It became kind of like tunnel vision. The only thing you could hear is his footsteps. Hard, clacking against the pavement and also the side of your skull. Your heart was racing and you could feel a cold sweat break out on your forehead and the nape of your neck. Your hands are shaking. 

The steps to your building have never felt more comforting, but the final slam of the passcode protected door was definitely a little more comforting. The shadow of the man continued to walk by. No glance in your direction. 

And you felt foolish. 

You were just paranoid, you were sure of it. 

“So I was thinking,” Nia took a sip of her margarita, the table full with nachos, guac and chips, and various small street-style tacos. It was a local spot not too far from your apartment, a basement restaurant that was the friend group favorite since freshman year of college when you’d sneak in with fake IDs. “Maybe we upload your soulmark to one of those search sites.” 

You roll your eyes, licking the salt of the rim of the glass before taking a long pull of your drink. “I don’t think that’s for me,” You shrug, leaning back in your chair, “I just want to let it happen, it’ll happen eventually.” It’s not that you had anything against those sites. They really helped people and it’s completely possible that it’s how the fates planned for them to meet, but seeing as you were fine as you were at the moment, you didn’t really want anything to help you speed up the process. 

Nia sighs, but relents, “So are you going to come to Gin’s gallery opening?” 

x

“What do you have on Rumlow?” Bucky just freshly back from Wakanda greeted Steve. 

“How was it?” Bucky shook his head, changing the subject, “Do we have anything on him? His location? Anything?” Steve looked at his friend, understanding, but not wanting to drop the subject. 

“We’ve got a couple leads to flush out, but honestly Buck, are you okay?” There was a dark look in his eyes, the look he had often had when he was fresh from the ice and going through Shuri’s process for the first time. The memories he’d face everyday. 

“I’ll be fine.” And that was that. Not further questions. He didn’t want to be asked and Steve knew he would come around eventually. 

He told himself he was fine, because he was, mostly. This fence he straddled of wanting his soulmate and the before final resignation that he didn’t have one, he was finally on a third side. He couldn’t find them. 

Not if he didn’t want to hurt them. 

The fog cleared. 

He remembered bursting from the ground, flung recklessly by the bomb, landing on his feet. Crouched. Knees shocked in protest, from catching his body weight. He remembers instinctively, standing, making one pass and realizing there was a large group of people in the smoke. He got to work, pulling people out, getting them out of the way before going back in. 

Then there it was. As clear as day, he could see it. The bleeding hearts. And then he didn’t have control over his body anymore. 

He snapped your arm. 

He was ripped away by someone on Rumlow’s team. But he snapped your arm. His eyes focused on your unconscious body as he felt himself fighting others. He didn’t mean to break your arm. 

He didn’t mean to. 

But he did. And it sat in his gut. Toxic and acidic, rolling and cresting up his throat until he was spitting up bile. Laying over his toilet, gagging and unable to vomit. 

He had to stay away. There was no other option. 

“They wanted you to bring her back to them?” Shuri asked.

“But they don’t exist anymore.” Bucky offered. Shuri nods, scrolling through the datapad. 

“I can take the mission objective from you,” She explains, “But you’re going to have to deal with these negative feelings with your therapist.” The fear. The anxiety. The longing. 

“It’s a string.” He remembers his grade school teacher explaining. “A string that’s loose at first, but the tension pulls you closer and closer together until you meet.” A string that bonds, wraps itself around you and fuses you together. 

Shuri continues, “You’ll see her again.” It’s a certainty. “Hopefully by then we will have this taken care of.” The trains moving the vibranium, Bucky watched them, disassociating. It was so relaxing seeing them pass on a schedule, quickly and efficiently. Always on time. “You deserve to be happy, James.” That brought his eyes to hers, still unfocused and wanting to leave. “You deserve to be with her.” But he wasn’t so sure. 

“Let’s go.” Steve’s voice was soothing, familiar when he feels like he’s drowning. It always brings him out. It pulls him back to the surface. 

He’s in the jet. The jet just landed. Another base. Another search for information. Far away from New York. Far away from you. 

“All these bases look the same.” Sam sounds annoyed, the concrete structure buried halfway into the ground. Old Hydra bases that Rumlow knew. The ones that Bucky also knew. The ones that Rumlow knows that Bucky knows. Breadcrumbs found in the forest leading them into the evil old woman’s oven. 

It was abandoned and recently so if the empty rotting food containers and spoiled milk in the fridge was anything to go by. Robbed of the guns and ammo, the last few bombs left over from the old regime kept under lock and key behind steel doors. 

“Where do you think they’re going next?” It was no secret that Rumlow hates Steve, Bucky, and Sam. Sam is the reason his face is burnt to shit. Bucky was the golden boy of Hydra and Steve… Steve was one of the big three. Steve’s face was plastered on billboards and they sold action figures of his likeness. Rumlow was the jealous type. Always. 

If Rumlow had been chosen to be a Winter Soldier he would have taken it with pride. He wouldn’t have suffered or had to have been scrambled like Bucky. And as far as Bucky was concerned Rumlow could have taken it. But it wasn’t that easy. And Rumlow had been 60 years too late. 

“Onto the next one?”

x

You could swear that was the same guy from the other night. Maybe. Possibly. Were you crazy? Your leg shaking with anxiety, bouncing to try to release any kind of energy building. The paranoia. The fear. He rode this train the other night. The guy who gets off on your same stop. But maybe that’s just his stop. Maybe he lives on your block. Maybe you really are crazy. 

You were trying to look preoccupied with your phone, but from the corner of your eye you could see him. Black t-shirt and jeans. Hands held placid in his lap, staring out the window. Not much to look at when you’re underground, but if you looked up you can see your own reflection in that window. 

Trust your gut. 

That’s what all of those true crime shows and podcasts have told you. Trust your gut. And something was wrong with this guy. 

Your cast itched like hell. 

In your phone you created a note. What color were his eyes? How tall was he? What was his build? Any distinguishing features? Scars? Tattoos? Did he have a visible soulmark? 

Your stop came. And as expected he also got off. 

The pounding of your heart matched the dual footsteps. A thump in your ears as you listened to the blood rush through them. Above ground you quickly dialed someone you hoped would answer. 

It rang once, twice, three times. 

Four and five. 

He seemed close. Like he knew you were onto him. Like he knew that you knew his intentions were sinister. 

Six and Seven. 

Keys fisted in your opposite hand you prayed under your breath that Nia would wake up. Fucking Christ Nia answer. 

Eight and Nine. 

A chill down your spine, a harsh grip against your cast, arm yanked out of socket. The man pulled relentlessly, other hand coming to grip your neck. Your fisted keys meeting his cheek and eye socket. A scream. Phone dropped. A sore, broken and still healing arm, bruised and blue, now in the open air. A fist meeting your face and your back hitting the brick wall of the building behind you. 

Directed to voicemail. 

x

“Is it bad?” Natasha sniffed the cup in front of him before taking a sip, “Tastes fine to me.” The coffee he didn’t realize he’d been glaring at. Too caught up in thinking about the flowers on his arm. The ones revealed by his rolled up sleeve. 

“The coffee’s fine.” Bucky sighs, yanking down his sleeve, looking up at Natasha’s prying eyes. A beat of silence.  “It’s fine.” 

“No it’s not.” She protests, grabbing his arm and yanking the sleeve back up, “What’s going on?” Bucky shakes his head, picking up his mug and creating a distance, tugging the sleeve back down over the offending ink. “You haven’t been yourself since Central Park.”

“I haven’t been myself since I enlisted in the military.” Not untrue. 

“You know what I mean,” Nat leaned against the counter, peering at him, a calculating look in her eyes. “Did you see them?” The way his back tensed she knew she was right, brow pulling together tight. “Bucky-”

“Drop it.” He could hear disappointment in her voice,

“You not talking to them isn’t going to make it hurt any less.” He knows. He knows. But it would hurt you less. So that’s what he’s going to do. 

“You have to learn to trust yourself,” His therapist said, “You have to trust that you’re a good person and that you weren’t in control, you wouldn’t have done these things normally, would you?” Well no, but he still did those things. The guilt will never go away. He just has to learn how to come to terms with it. 

It’s a process. 

But he needed to keep you from him. 

It’s not that he believed he would break your arm again or worse, but maybe. It’s a possibility and it gave him enough anxiety that he isn't sleeping well anymore. Those blissful eight hours dwindled to six hours full of tossing and turning. Being too hot and then too cold. Nothing was helping, jogs, hot baths, cold showers, time spent with a punching bag, reading, meditation. He wondered why Pierce never removed the skin on his arm. 

If he didn’t want him to have anything to do with his soulmate that is. 

“They could have used them to control you.” Shuri had speculated, “Make you more compliant.” Makes sense. 

But he could have just brought you back and then what? They use you to torture him. Give you to him as a reward? Let you play house for doing a good job? 

He shudders with the thought. 

His room was a nice reprieve from the questioning. From Nat, Steve, and even Sam had started to ask about his more than chilled demeanor recently. But he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to focus on. He didn’t know what he wanted. 

But it seemed like someone was going to choose for him. 

x

You hated hospitals. The smell, the noise, the way the sheets felt against your skin. The only good thing about it was the socks, for whatever reason they are the thinnest yet warmest socks ever created. Wild. 

“We think you should move home,” Your Mother was pacing, “We never liked you moving into the city in the first place.” You knew this. 

When you were freshly graduated from high school and told your parents that you wanted to move to New York it was definitely a hard subject for a while, but you’d been living in the city for a while now and truth be told this was only the third time something bad has happened to you since moving here from North Jersey. 

The first one was years ago when you were still in college and to be fair, it was a bad part of town, it was very late at night, and you and your friends were as naive as you were young. The guy didn’t make off with too much money anyway since all of you were broke, but regardless, still a shitty situation.

The last two were just this past week, the wedding, and now the guy who took your wallet and ripped the cast with unbelievable force from your arm. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Your arm had been pulled out of socket as well, so now you were in a fresh cast and a sling. 

“The city is getting worse,” Your Father agrees, “I don’t know if I can honestly take another call telling me you’re in the hospital.” You could agree with them. 

When you were younger and the Avengers first became a thing it was a steady increase in crime. Then Daredevil and Spider-Man didn’t help. Every criminal in New York wanted to test their chops against the big guys. King Pin became a thing and a bunch of superpowered criminals became rampant, kept only in check by the constant monitoring of heroes on the streets. 

But it wasn’t always like that, 99% of the time it was just another normal day. The problem is your parents loved watching the news, and everything on the news was bad. They didn’t see the good things about the city, they didn’t see the good people in the city. Like the older man in your building who you could call at any time with a plumbing issue and he’d be right over to fix it, the housing office will get back to you anywhere between 7-30 days. There’s another woman with a large family who, even when they’re not there, cooks enough to feed an army and is more than happy to deliver leftovers to your door. 

You’ve never felt more like yourself before moving to the city, there was no doubt in your mind that you wouldn’t be moving out of New York any time soon. 

“It’s just bad luck,” You sigh, closing your eyes against the harsh fluorescent light, “I’ll be fine really, I told you that you didn’t even have to come up here.” 

A knock at the door, your nurse. She walked in and placed the little paper cup with two pills on the tray next to the bed. 

“These are for pain, you have some other visitors,” Other visitors?  “Are you okay to be questioned?” You’d already given your statement to the police. 

“Questioned by who?” The nurse looks over to your parents apologetically.

“It would probably be best if they questioned her alone.” Begrudgingly your parents left the room, two Avengers taking their place. 

x

“So one of Rumlow’s goonies attacked this girl?” Sam looked down at the file in his hands. The car scenery changes from the woods and forest of upstate into the skyscrapers and metal of the city. Bucky’s stomach was churning, but he faced the window and didn’t speak. 

“She was also one of the vics at Central Park.” Steve directed the car down the exit ramp, into the heart of the city. Bucky felt like he was going to vomit. 

It’s her. 

“So dude gets a good look at her, thinks she’s pretty, follows her for days afterward?” Sam speculates. Bucky’s neck feels hot. 

This whole car feels hot. He cracks his window. 

“I’m gonna wait here.” Steve and Sam look at him in the rearview, Sam even turning in his seat as Steve navigated a spot in the parking garage. “What?”

“Everytime there’s something Hydra we can’t pull your nose out of it,” Sam began, “But all the sudden, ‘I’ll wait in the car?’” 

“Are you good, Buck?” Steve’s voice with more concern, killing the engine. 

“No.” He grumbles, “I’m not.” He couldn’t go in there. He just couldn’t.

x

“If it’s okay,” Steve began, “We would just like to ask you a few questions about the man who attacked you.” It must have been a big deal, the guy who followed you. Why would two Avengers be in your hospital room if it wasn’t. 

“Of course.” The chill of the hospital room was slowly warming, a nervousness was growing. Who was this guy? And why did he attack you? 

“When did you first notice he was following you?” The Falcon, he stood further back, almost against the wall. His arms crossed and legs in a wide stance. Captain America was in a much more comforting position, sitting in the chair next to your bed, leaned forward, hands clasped and elbows on his knees. 

“Uhm, well… I was in the hospital for a day or two after the attack.” You shift in bed, suddenly wildly uncomfortable, “I was on the subway, headed home, and he was with two other men.”

“Did they also follow you off the train?” You shake your head, 

“No the first night I saw them, they seemed to know each other, but they stayed on their phones most of the time. The man who attacked me was the only one who left at my stop.” The two men had been on the subway sporadically, not always with him. But more often than not. 

Whoever they were, they must have thought you were dumb enough not to notice. But you were also dumb enough to think your paranoia wasn’t real. Maybe you should be going to therapy once a week instead of twice a month. Maybe then you would have learned the difference between markers of past trauma and an actual gut feeling of danger. 

“What did he look like?” 

x

Bucky’s leg anxiously bounced in the backseat. His fingernails were no longer interesting and his phone, no matter how often he checked his apps, gave him no solace. 

“Maybe just a peek.” He reasoned, leg halting its movements and he looked out the window of the car to the door, entry to the hospital. You were so close, his heart was pounding. He steps from the car, but pauses at the glass sliding doors long enough for them to automatically close again before finally venturing inside. 

Bucky hated hospitals. The smell reminded him of the lab. How sterile it was. How cold. It made him wildly uncomfortable. 

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. The arm. The one he knew that your tattoo resided because that’s where his was, covered in a cast and a sling. There was bruising down the same side, starting under your right eye and trailing down and disappearing into your hospital gown, before reappearing on the small sliver of skin between your sleeve and the top of the sling. 

This was his fault and he knew it. 

But he’ll handle it. 

He’ll make sure that Rumlow and his thugs were safely behind bars on the Raft. Either that, or buried in a shallow grave somewhere in Siberia. 

“She might have seen something.” Steve slammed the car door and Bucky pretended to be preoccupied with his phone. 

“We’ll have to tail her for a while,” The engine starting, Sam continues, “He’ll come back.” Bucky’s jaw clenched.

He wouldn’t give him the chance. 

x

The paranoia. The fear. It was palpable. You constantly looked over your shoulder. You’d bought another deadbolt for your door. Checking the windows twice before bed. You bought blackout curtains. As soon as the sun set. Windows checked, curtains pulled. Deadbolts are always locked. 

You didn’t leave unless you had to. The two Avengers didn’t comfort you, why was this guy after you? 

“We’ll do everything we can to find him,” The Captain, just like the words of Ross, aimed to soothe but it really showed you that they had no idea either. 

“Maybe you should take a break,” That’s what your therapist said, “Go stay with your parents for a little bit.” But you couldn’t. Because it felt like he was winning. And you were far too stubborn for that. 

You started carrying a knife.

It bounced against your hip as you walked, to and from work. The heavy metal you’d run your fingers across if you felt too anxious to continue. The routine helped. It helped the stress, the depression, the anxiety. You found yourself missing the comfort of the tattoo. 

It gave that to you. 

You never noticed it before now. When by force you can’t actually see it, now you wanted to see it more than anything, but your arm was encased in an inch of plaster and was still terribly sore. It was a comfort to know that there was someone out there that would have been able to help you through this. But you didn’t know who they were, or where they were. And it didn’t matter anyway. 

What good would you be if you couldn’t help yourself?

“Have you felt an increase in thoughts of this nature?” Your therapist was a nice woman who wore her hair messily piled on top of her head. Gray streaks throughout and proud of them, always in all black and always had a fresh iced coffee whenever you met with her. You’d been seeing her for years. 

Insecurity about one's soulmate often led a person to seek help, the strange self-loathing and anxiety that grew as a teenager was what gave you a final push in college when you turned to abusing adderall in order to tackle your busy schedule and just keep you from thinking all together. 

“Just since the assault.” And that was true. You’d been so good for such a long time. 

“Progress isn’t linear.” She always tells you. And you’ll try not to criticize yourself even further for falling behind. Or what you think is falling behind. 

You try to hold those ideas close. Because your soulmate isn’t who is going to help you get past this. You are. 

x

It didn’t take long. Not for the Winter Soldier. And definitely not for a man who was personally wronged by a sloppy thug who left tracks like mud on white linoleum. 

It was his soulmate they were after. The tug on his heart strings as he remembered the way you face looked, eye socket swollen and black because of this asshole’s fist. The anger that bubbled and rolled, acidic and hot in his gut. 

It took him less than 36 hours to find the guy. 

“What does Rumlow know?” Fuck all if Brock thinks Bucky Barnes was going to call him Crossbones. The man’s eyes were rolling, head lolling, drool coming from the corner of his mouth, strapped to a medical table that Bucky could still feel against his back. He sighed in frustration. Maybe he hit the guy a little too hard. That’s fine. They had time. 

This place gave him the creeps. The facility that he’d searched with Steve and Sam just a day or two ago. It was eerie seeing it empty. The way he remembered it, back in the 90s when he was here, right before Howard and Maria, it was booming with personnel. Men and women devoted to ‘the cause.’ Hydra’s better tomorrow. 

The better tomorrow that he helped shape. 

Natasha set the bomb off. He was cleaning up the rubble. 

“What does Rumlow know?” The man’s eyes met his, fearful, a hard swallow. Tongue seeking out the tooth that Bucky already ripped out. The cyanide. Another hard swallow, his fate resigned. Bucky leaned forward, the metal chair rusted and screaming in protest. “What?” Bucky couldn’t help but bite, “You had no problem beating a woman on the street.” And now the coward wanted to be afraid. “Start talking.” The tools Bucky kept on him lay out on the medical cart. Pliers and a couple different knives. A pick he used to unlock doors. Mostly for show. 

Mostly. 

Fingernails were the worst. That’s what Bucky started with, but the guy was more of a coward than he thought. He got two fingers in before squealing, 

“He just wanted a picture of the tattoo.” Fat blubbering tears. Snot across his nose. “He wanted to see her soulmark.” 

“Well?” Bucky pressed on the raw flesh, hard. “Did he see it?” If Rumlow saw the tattoo, if he had a picture, and he knew where you lived, he had to move fast. The man squirmed, crying, “Did he?” Bucky yelled. 

“Yes.”

x

You wondered how these kids got so talented. Truly. A ten-year-old who tells Gordon Ramsay that he’s making a Bearnaise sauce. Like what even is a Bearnaise sauce? 

From the comfort of your home, a blissful day off, you’d gotten a lot done. Probably one of the most productive days you had in a long time and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that cleaning your entire apartment ceiling to floor and listening to an audio book completely cleared your mind. It gave the sinking feeling in your gut that you couldn’t shake a twelve hour break as well. 

This ramen that took three minutes to make from a plastic bag looked paltry in comparison to ten-year-old Grace’s filet mignon that she was presenting to the judges, artfully drizzled with her Bearnaise sauce, but it was the best you could do planning to go grocery shopping tomorrow. 

The broth was hot, spilling on your pants as a series of hard knocks met the wood of your front door. Anxiety spiking. Stepping from the couch, you backed away from the door. Setting the bowl on your counter,you backed yourself down the hallway, towards your bedroom where you knew your phone was charging on your night stand. 

The person stopped knocking, voice coming muffled through the door. “Y/N, this is James Barnes.” The Avenger? Your steps halting, you stood in the doorway of your room, straight ahead was your front door. “I have reason to believe you’re in danger.” There was an internal struggle. Was this guy telling the truth? Do you go look out the peephole? You weren’t even sure you knew what this guy looked like to know if it was him or not. What if this was a trick? What if the man who assaulted you was on the other side of that door?

Heart racing you took a step forward, heading to the door to look through the peephole when you were yanked back hard enough to hurt your neck. A scream leaping from your throat as a hand covered your mouth, a strong arm pinning your arms down and keeping you from lashing out. 

“I’ve got you,” A whisper, “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” You could feel your body trembling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.  “That’s not James Barnes.” There was a slight breeze from where your bedroom window was open. “I’m gonna let you go, but you’ve got to listen and trust me to get you out of here. Can you do that?” His body was hot against your back, the hand over your mouth cold and metallic. James Barnes had a metal arm, didn’t he? You could feel yourself nod, the man releasing you slowly and letting you take a step away before turning back to face him. 

His hair was short, ruffled, with a thick scruff on his face. And the bluest eyes you’d ever seen. 

“Let’s go.” The banging on the door resumed, but this time, the hinges were bending, metal warping with each hit. The man you were supposed to trust jumped onto the windowsill and held out his hand to you, “We don’t have a lot of time.” Your eyes flit between the front door, now splintering, and the open metal palm of the man who broke into your apartment. Adrenaline rising you made a split second decision, the door falling off its hinges you let the man pull you out of your apartment and down the fire escape. 

It was close, almost too close. 

Apartment window locks, the old ones anyway, were an easy lift and pop out of place. The banging on your front door gave him cause for alarm, but you’d already been making your way back to him. Steve had a lot of questions, but was enroute nonetheless. All he had to do was get you as far away from Rumlow as possible. 

“They’re on their way to take care of the guys breaking down your door,” He explained, trying not to think about how soft your hand was in his. “Steve, Sam, and a couple other agents.” 

Your eyes were shifty, he knew you didn’t trust him, at least not all the way. 

“Are you okay?” The swelling was gone from your eye but it was still a violent shade of blue and for a second Bucky thinks he went easy on the thug before turning him over. 

You’re three blocks away, the late night traffic and noise was a little disorienting. A car was in front of you backed into an alley, blacked out windows, the Avengers insignia in gray paint on the side. Maybe this guy was the real deal. 

“I’m fine.” Truth was you were terrified, your feet were cold and you were surprised you didn’t step in glass with how fast he’d dragged you three blocks without shoes on. He gave you an odd look before opening the passenger door and gesturing for you to get inside. There was hesitation. His eyes locked with yours, seeming to debate something before taking a step closer to you. 

You stepped back. 

“I need you to come with me.” His voice was soothing, reassuring, but you still couldn’t quite be bought. 

“Listen, I don’t know what kind of situation you got me out of back there, but this is all a little too strange for me,” There were police sirens, flashing lights sped down the street behind you, towards your apartment. You look back at the man in front of you, arms wrapped around yourself and toes now going numb. “I just don’t know exactly who I can trust right now.”

The metal digits moved to his sleeve, tugging the fabric upward, his pale skin a stark contrast against he black ink of bleeding hearts.

His bleeding hearts. 

Your bleeding hearts. 

“Trust me,” he says, voice desperate, “Please.” And in an instant, you did. 

It made sense.

It made complete sense. 

He was over eighteen when you were born, because he was born a century ago.

 There was silence in the car as you left the city. Both unable to speak. Where did you go from here? You weren’t ready for this. You don’t know if you could do this. Your hands were shaking, your shoulder was aching and you suddenly felt wildly uncomfortable. 

There’s an expectation with soulmates. Is it what he expected of you? Like was this you jumping into the deep end of dating and meeting families and getting married and spending every waking minute sappy and in love?

You weren’t ready.

You couldn’t do this. 

You were safe. That’s all that matters. Bucky’s hand hurt from gripping the wheel so tight. His heart was racing now that you were so close. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do here. Does he start a conversation? Does he tell you about what just happened? No. He doesn’t want to scare you more than you probably already are. Rumlow is a conversation for later. When there can be a rational conversation outside adrenaline and fear. 

But where do you go from here? Bucky didn’t know. Should he be asking you on a date? Are you going to ask him on a date? His anxiety spiked thinking about it. He just started doing well enough in therapy to go back on field missions, he didn’t know if he was ready to take on a committed relationship. The rolling feeling in his gut was back. 

“Here,” The compound was sleek and minimalist, “If you want to rest until the rest of the team gets back, it might be a while after interrogation and processing.” A room for you to sleep in, the sun already sunk below the horizon well before you were pulled hastily from your apartment, the fatigue finally settling in. 

“Uhm, thank you,” You didn’t know what to say, but it seems like he didn’t know either. 

“I’ll uh…” He took a step back, “I’ll come get you in the morning.” Okay, okay. “If you want to take a shower, it’s right through there. And there’s spare clothes in the drawers.” Avengers sweats and hoodies. Nondescript undergarments. 

The bottom of the shower, arm hanging out the side. You didn’t know how long you sat there, the water never went cold. But by the time you were done and you slipped under the covers the rest of the world just seemed to disappear. 

X

“She’s your soulmate?” Steve looked at his friend incredulously. “Bucky why didn’t you say anything before?” He was stubborn, and he didn’t know what to do at the time. 

“I don’t know.” Steve was annoyed. Hands on his hips, wide captain stance, authoritative voice annoyed. Disappointed dad annoyed. 

“We would have had a strict detail on her,” He paced, “We could have brought her here for christ’s sake.” But Bucky didn’t want that. He wasn’t ready for this. 

“She didn’t seem really interested in it Steve,” he shrugs, “And neither am I.” Sam scoffed, leaning back in his chair. 

“You don’t want to be with her?” A strange look, “She’s literally made for you, and you for her, and you don’t want to be with her?” Sam’s eyebrows pulled tight in confusion. 

“That’s not how soulmates are supposed to react to each other.” Steve adds. Both men didn’t understand. When they found their soulmates everything seemed to click into place. They weren’t as damaged, they weren’t as scarred. They wouldn’t understand. 

“I’m not ready.” Bucky’s chest felt tight. “I’m just not ready. Not yet.” 

x

You never had to see him. This Rumlow person. Crossbones. The next morning, when you woke up, James Barnes was waiting for you at the door. 

“Are you hungry?” He seemed nervous, but so were you. He leads you out into the main common room. A plate of food covered in a metal lid, eggs, bacon, toast. A plate set aside for you from their early breakfast, he explained that most of them wake up for early morning training. Paperwork for the incident yesterday. It was quiet. Awkwardly so. But you didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like neither did he.

He busied himself making a cup of coffee and you watched him move. The ease in which he moved about this kitchen in where you imagined he made his meals, where he bonded with those other Avengers. Celebrities. It seemed surreal almost. Domestic. It’s why in all of those magazines they take candids of celebrities going to the grocery store, coming from the gym, faces clean of makeup. 

They buy food. They work out. They have wrinkles and acne. Just like us. 

They make coffee. They have awkward conversations. They don’t know what to do. Just like us. 

It’s why your Mom loved watching reality tv shows. Not because she liked the people on them, but because sometimes it was interesting to see how the 1% lived. What they worried about. What their worldview was. How black and white they saw things. 

You briefly wonder what an Avengers reality show would be like. 

This was your soulmate. 

The person created for you. And he drinks his coffee black. He had dark circles under his eyes. His arm was black, gold detailing, shaped just like his flesh arm. You were trying to remember the guy from the history books, what he looked like, but fifth grade was so long ago and you were more worried about growing out the bangs you’d cut at home in your bathroom. 

It was hard to believe. 

But it was real.

And right on his arm as he turned to join you at the kitchen bartop. You felt your back straighten, your fork continuing its path, pushing eggs from one side to the other. What do you do now? Say something? Anything? You couldn’t tell if he didn’t want this as much as you or if that’s just how he was. Silent, standoffish, the gears in his head turning and turning with thought. His eyes were unfocused, staring at the movement of your fork. Seemingly snapping out of it when you lay your fork to the side, his eyes met yours, a forced smile. 

This isn’t what you expected, but the bubbling in your guy was going to spill from your lips before you could possibly help it,

“We don’t have to do this.” Whatever this was. 

You’ve seen soulmates meet and you’re sure he’s seen soulmates meet in his lifetime. It wasn’t uncommon. Passing on the street, they see the soulmark, tears, hugging, maybe even a kiss if the pair was passionate enough. At your place of work it happened once with a new hire. It happens, constantly, around you. But this wasn’t like that at all. 

He lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank god.” Your heart clenches, a feeling of rejection, smothered down, swallowed with a sip of orange juice. 

“Wow.” His mouth opens and closes, 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” shaking his head, he runs a hand through his hair, “I’m just not ready for this.” An understanding,

“Me either.” You both mirrored each other, relaxing against the chair back. You stare at one another for a minute, the silence comfortable for the first time. There was a simmer of rejection in the acid of your stomach, like maybe if he’d just been into it. If he wanted to be together now and do those things together now, you’d push aside your fears and leap into it. 

But this was being an adult? Making the choice that you need to make and not the choice that you want. 

There was that feeling there, you wanted to ask him questions. You wanted to know everything, this curiosity nagging at your brain. But this was good enough for now. 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” He asked. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing you wouldn’t be able to go back to your apartment for a bit. The door was bashed in “...and the fight was in your living room.” So the entire front of the apartment was mostly destroyed. “You won’t be able to go back there for a while.” You mourn the $300 you’d just spend finishing the living and dining area. “I mean, I’m not going to kick you out.” He continued, “But I’m not sure you really want to stay here.” 

“I don’t.” He watches you rub your eyes and lean over, elbows on the table. “I can go stay with my parents for a little while.” 

He didn’t think about how you would have living parents. His were long gone, buried in a cemetery behind the church they’d gone to their entire lives. It gave him pause,

“If that’s what you want to do.” 

“It is.” 

There was silence for a moment more, Bucky debating something before beginning, “I uh… just got cleared for field work, I still have some stuff I need to work through before I can be in this relationship.” Shifting awkwardly, “Fully.”

He watched your eyes widen a fraction, before releasing a sigh, “I understand that,” You lean towards him, “It’s weird cause my whole life I thought you were gonna be some guy old enough to be my father.” 

“Technically I’m old enough to be your great-grandfather.” A laugh, the tension vaporized from the air. 

“I wish I paid more attention in social studies,” You shake your head, “After central park,” A swallow, “I started to have nightmares and I felt so paranoid, and then that guy attacked me on the street, and now…” 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” His eyes soft, fists clenched under the bar top, “That’s my fault.” 

“I know they were after you,” you could see it across his forehead, the way his shoulders were tense, the guilt, “but it’s not your fault they attacked me, and central park was just a coincidence.” 

“I know.” He knows. “But I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again.” You paused, not knowing to say, but it makes sense. His line of work was dangerous, and it means that you might be put into danger every once in a while. 

“We will just have to find new ways to cope then.” You could see the appeal, the way his eyes were looking down at the bartop, then snapped up to yours. It felt like the breath was knocked from your lungs. Is this what it feels like?

If he had asked you in that moment to stay, you would have, without hesitation.  

“If you need anything,” You couldn’t see his eyes properly in the dark of the car parked outside of your parent’s house, “Just call, and if I don’t answer send me a text.” 

“Okay,” you look down at your hands in your lap, then over at the front door, the porch light on and you could see the TV through the window, your parents probably watching Brooklyn-99 reruns and trying to stay awake until you arrive. 

“Hey,” His hand slipped into yours, pulling your eyes back to his, “You can stay at the compound if it would make you feel more safe.” 

“I think I’ll be okay,” He’d taken you back to your apartment, behind the caution tape and helped you pack a suitcase before driving an hour outside of the city, well into New Jersey. Your belly fluttered as he pulled the suitcase from the trunk, carrying it to the front door where the two of you now stood under the porch light. 

“Just check for me,” He said, “You’ve got my number and Steve’s.” You did. “You’ve got the number for the compound direct office.” You did. “Okay, okay.” A pause, “Let me just give you Nat and Sam’s numbers too, and Shuri’s.” You huff a sigh as the phone is taken from your hand, numbers quickly punched in. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He looked at you from beneath his lashes, thumbs quickly entering the last few digits. 

“If anything suspicious happens, and I mean a neighbor takes their dog on a different route, someone passes the house one time too many…”

“I’m gonna be okay Bucky.” Your heart warmed with the concern, but you were also comforted by the fact that you’d agreed to take this slow. 

“This is more for me than you, more for my peace of mind.” You could understand. He let out a deep breath, eyes meeting yours while he handed the phone back. There was a beat of silence, a creeping tension creeping up your spine, something pooled in your lower belly. Not awkward, not awkward at all. Something else. You took a step closer to him,

“Can I just do one thing before you go?” Bucky’s tongue peaked out, wetting his lower lip, rosy and pink. “I’m just-”

“Yeah,” A whisper. His fingers were soft on your arm, warm. And you pressed your lips to his. Hard to explain, how right it felt. Like you had a puzzle you’d been working on all your life and you were close to finishing, putting the whole thing together and he came up and handed you a piece you didn’t know you were missing. But it wasn’t complete yet, not yet. 

Lips parting as you kissed him again, that pink tongue brushing against your lower lip. A breath away, “I should go.” Another kiss, soft and languid. 

“Yeah.” It was hard to catch your breath, setting back down on your heels, stepping back. The air suddenly chilled, your body missing his warmth. 

“If you need anything…” You smiled as he took step off the porch, mouth grinning, stupid and sweet. 

“I’ll call.” 

.

.

.

taglist //  @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @the-soulofdevil​ @tinmunky​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious

#jbbuckybarnesbirthdaychallenge #bucky barnes x reader #soulmate au #sebastian stan #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #the winter soldier

[beifongsss]

birthday [sero]

Pairing: Sero x reader

Requested?: Yes! a lovely anon said: “Ahh im so happy to hear you're taking bnha requests!!! So recently it was resident tape boys birthday,,, i was wondering if you could do something where it leads into the two slow dancing in his room?? Thank you so much, i really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to crank out amazing works 🥺🥺”

Summary: (late birthday post for this boy) You try to get the Bakusquad to help you set up a small birthday celebration for Sero. It seems to be going as planned but little do you know, Mina’s main goal is to get the two of you to confess your feelings.

w.c.~ 1.7k

.masterlist. taglist form.

my first time writing for bnha so i’m sorry if it’s not that good! also idk if i’d write for sero again bc it was low key hard 

~

It had been an exhausting day, with you running around trying to keep the Bakusquad under control.

You had been planning Sero’s surprise birthday party and the hardest part about it was making sure that everyone acted as though you had forgotten that there was something to celebrate. There had been many close calls, with Kaminari almost asking him what flavor cake he wanted and Kirishima almost shouting a loud ‘happy birthday!’ when Sero first walked into class.

You had been quick to jump over his desk, slapping your hand across his mouth and earning yourself multiple confused looks as you tried to explain that it was a new game you and Kirishima were playing. It was the dumbest excuse ever and you could hear Bakugou cackling in the background but Sero hadn’t commented, instead choosing to give you a worried nod before slipping into his chair. 

As soon as the bell had rung, you had sprinted out of the classroom, pulling Bakugou along behind you as you motioned for Kirishima and Kaminari to distract Sero. Even though Bakugou muttered multiple profanities under his breath as he followed you, he dutifully helped you pick out the materials you needed, claiming that if he was being forced to attend some shitty party he was going to make sure that it wouldn’t be a bad one. 

Sneaking back into the dorms was the hardest part and you could faintly hear Sero in the common room as he asked Mina where you were. Truth be told, he was pretty upset. He had been waiting for this day for months, ever since you promised him that you would spend his birthday with him doing whatever he wanted. Now that the day had arrived, you were nowhere to be found and he was wondering why you had told him that and then gone back on your word. 

You rushed into the kitchen to check on Sato, who had happily agreed to bake a cake for Sero, before sneaking into the elevator. Once you had reached Sero’s floor, you managed to sneak into his room, knowing that he always left it unlocked because he hated carrying his key around. Even with Bakugou’s condescending comments, the two of you managed to set up pretty quickly. Balloons were floating around the room, some covering the ground along with some confetti. There were streamers hung up all around the room, a sparkly banner positioned right above his bed displaying the two words you were yet to tell your crush friend. 

Once you were done with the set up, you stepped back, brushing your hands off as you looked around in wonder. 

“Thanks, Bakugou,” you said, smiling at the grumpy boy. “This is gonna be great, I can already tell.”

Bakugou simply scoffed before throwing himself onto Sero’s bed. Shaking your head, you went back down to the kitchen, grabbing Mina’s attention beforehand. She joined you in the kitchen, the two of you praising Sato for his amazing work on Sero’s birthday cake. After handing the cake over to Mina, she went up to his room and you went into the common room. Kaminari and Kirishima exchanged a subtle glance as you nodded at them and they quickly said their goodbyes to Sero before heading up to his room as well. You sighed softly as you plopped down onto the couch, leaning your head on Sero’s shoulder. He glanced down at you, smiling softly when you reached up to scratch the tip of your nose.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” you said, breaking the silence first. Sero’s heart swelled at your words before shrinking back down again when you continued speaking. “We have that quiz tomorrow and you haven’t studied.”

Sero’s smile dropped in annoyance and you had to stop yourself before you could apologize and tell him that you did indeed remember his birthday. You shuffled off the couch, heading to the elevator before turning around. “You coming? We can study in your room. I’ll even let you pick the music!”

He trailed after you quietly, trying to hide his disappointment as the elevator ascended. When you reached his room, you stood behind him, earning you a confused glance because he knew that you knew that his room was unlocked. So why weren’t you opening it?

“Surprise!”

Sero stumbled back slightly as he looked around his room. Bakugou was still on his bed, a scowl on his face as he scrolled through his phone. Kaminari and Kirishima were wearing party hats, party horns being held between their lips as they made a racket. Mina was standing in the middle of the room, a large smile on her face as she held a delicious-looking cake. The rest of your classmates were also there, each of them holding a gift and chanting ‘happy birthday!’. 

“Happy birthday, tape boy,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around him from behind. You were smiling widely, happy that things had gone according to plan no matter how many times your friends had almost ruined the surprise. Sero turned around and hugged you tightly, his heart leaping into his throat as he realized you had done this all for him. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, grinning widely before turning to face his friends. 

The party went well, both you and Sero flitting from group to group but never quite spending any time together. Everyone was aware of the lingering glances you would send to each other and as day turned into evening, everyone began to make excuses and leave, making sure to wish Sero a final ‘happy birthday’ before they left. Eventually, it was only the Bakusquad left and you had fun filming a silly unwrapping video of each of Sero’s gifts. After that was done, Bakugou was the first to leave, stating that it was way too late and that he needed to sleep. Kaminari was the next to go, saying that Yaoyorozu had agreed to give him a late night review session for the upcoming test. 

After a few more minutes, Mina let out a fake yawn and tugged Kirishima off of the ground. She sent you a sly smile, pausing at the door and turning to face Sero. 

“Well it’s getting late, we should go,” she said, smiling sweetly before turning back to you. “See you tomorrow (Y/N/N) don’t forget to tell Sero that thing you mentioned. Bye!”

The door shut before either of you could react and you laughed nervously before turning to face Sero. He was looking at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you drifted back into his room. 

“What was she talking about?”

“N-Nothing!” you squeaked, turning away from him and flopping onto his bed. “We really should do some studying though.”

Sero hummed, not replying to you before he turned and opened up his laptop. He connected to his speakers before turning his chair to face you. “So what do you wanna listen to?”

“Whatever you want,” you replied, glad that he was choosing to ignore Mina’s words. “I told you I’d let you pick the music!”

You pulled out your notebook, smiling as you heard Sero mutter to himself. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a sound of approval and you perked up as you heard soft music fill the room.

“Well that’s a bit different from your usual music choices,” you teased, frowning slightly when Sero didn’t reply. You turned around, seeing him standing a few inches away from you and causing you to jump. “Geez, Sero. Give me a little warning next time!”

Wordlessly, Sero held his hand out and you took it, giving him a questioning gaze. He pulled you forward and you stumbled slightly, falling into his chest as he led you to the center of the room. He chuckled at you before placing your hands around his neck and putting his own around your waist. You hesitantly laid your head on his shoulder, your heart pounding as the two of you started swaying softly to the music. 

“Thank you,” Sero said softly, his voice barely louder than the music.

“What for?” you replied. 

“Everything.”

“It’s your birthday, silly,” you said. “I wouldn’t have forgotten it. You deserve to be celebrated.”

Sero was glad that you couldn’t see his face as he broke into a bright blush. Still holdin you close, he cleared his throat before speaking again. “Not just for that. I mean for everything, (Y/N). You do so much for me. But yes, thank you for today as well.”

You pulled back slightly, smiling up at Sero. “You do so much for me too, Sero. I love you.”

The music faded for a few seconds as the previous song ended and the new one began. The silence was overwhelming and you felt yourself flush under Sero’s gaze as you realized what you had just said. Before you could fully pull away and run to your room to hide, Sero carefully cupped your cheek and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before nudging your head back to its spot on his shoulder. 

“Is that what Mina wanted you to tell me?” he asked, laughing softly when you nodded. “I love you too.”

“Happy birthday, Sero,” you said, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the moment. 

“Happy birthday to me indeed.”

~

A few hours later, Mina Ashido was rushing through the dorms when she realized that she didn’t have her phone. She didn’t bother to knock as she burst into Sero’s room, immediately locating the device and placing it in her pocket. 

“Sorry for just bursting..” Mina began, turning to face Sero but trailing off when she saw the two of you curled up in his bed sound asleep. “In.”

Smiling, she fished her phone out of her pocket and snapped a few pictures before sprinting out of the room to locate Kirishima and Kaminari, making sure to close the door quietly as she left. She couldn’t help but giggle wildly as she showed everyone the picture, knowing that when you awoke the next morning you would be pissed. But she could deal with that. 

She was just happy that her two friends had finally gotten together. 

#sero x reader #hanta sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero #mina ashido #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #kirishima #kaminari #denki kaminari #ejirou kirishima #kirishima ejirou #kaminari denki #hanta sero #sero hanta #sero imagine #hanta sero imagine #bnha imagine #mha imagine #boku no hero imagine #my hero imagine #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine

[authenticcadence18]

Butterfly pt. 1

Here’s the pre-Battle For Mewni canon-divergent Starco fic I wrote in 2017!!!

Have a note from my younger self to give context to the story:

“I'm not quite sure what events lead up to this or what happens afterward...this story is just a piece of what I imagine could happen during Toffee's eventual attack on Mewni. This scene takes place on Mewni, and Marco obviously used his dimensional scissors to get there.....duh 😜.”

(Also I wrote this four years ago, when my writing style wasn’t nearly as developed/polished as it is now. I could spend hours editing it, but I‘d feel kinda bad doing that to my younger self😂.)

...

AO3

...

"STAR!!!!!!!!!"

Marco struggled relentlessly against the green chains of energy that prohibited him from moving, but there was nothing he could do but watch, horrified, as Toffee drained the life out of his best friend

"STOP!!!! YOU'RE HURTING HER!!!!!"

Piercing green magic gushed from the severed crystal imbedded in the villain's hand and swirled furiously around Star, whose electric blue eyes were growing dimmer by the second. The princess lunged at Toffee, wand-in-hand, in one final attempt to subdue him, but his magical assault had weakened her body beyond repair. With a shrill moan, Star collapsed to the ground and lay motionless, the light in her pupils now almost completely extinguished.

A sob tore through Marco's throat as he struggled against the magical shackles binding him for the umpteenth time, only to discover that he was now able to move freely. He scrambled to his best friend's side and frantically began checking for a pulse, for breath, for anything that indicated she was alright. All the while, he continued to assure her, "It's okay, Star, you're fine, it's going to be fine, please be fine, you'll be just fine, Star, PLEASE be fine!!!!"

But he felt nothing.

Star Butterfly—crown princess, heir to the throne of Mewni, and Marco's best friend—was no more.

"......you killed her......" Marco uttered blankly, staring into the sunken black eyes of the girl who'd radically changed his life in such a short amount of time. Trembling, partially from despair and partially from fury, he inclined his head to meet Toffee's watchful gaze and repeated, "....you KILLED her...!!"

Toffee chuckled, the chilling timbre of his voice not quite clicking with the spindly bird form he still had possession of. "Well, not technically," the former Ludo corrected Marco smoothly, hovering above him with a smile that could have been perceived as understanding, had he not already revealed his hand. "I've merely drained her magical life force. It would be possible to restore it and revive her if you had any healers around, but..."

He smirked.

"I believe the Chancellor is still...out of commission."

Marco's eyes narrowed. "Alright, fine! You've got Star! What about me? Are you going to suck the life out of me too before I karate-chop you into the next multiverse???"

Toffee tisked, an almost fatherly expression appearing on his face. "Oh Marco," he crooned gently, as if gently chiding a disobedient child. "There's no point in that. Without her?" He gestured to Star's broken form. "You're nothing."

With this, the villain cackled menacingly and snatched up Star's wand before zooming out of the cave and slamming a rock in front of the entrance with a wave of his hand, leaving Marco alone with the shell of the coolest girl he'd ever known.

With Toffee gone, the reality of the situation slowly began to sink in....

Star was gone.

And it was his fault.

"....STAR!!!!" Marco wailed, tears blurring his vision. "THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!!! I—it's all my fault..... If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have had any reason to cleave your wand in the first place!! You...you'd be alive..."

He took one of Star’s cold hands in his, despair weighing him down so heavily that he doubted he'd ever be able to stand again.

"You trusted me with your friendship, and I hurt you. You trusted me with your life, and I let you die....

"...you trusted me with your heart...." he managed to choke, the final lyrics of Ruberiot's song reverberating within his skull, "...and all I did was push it aside......"

He knelt near Star in silence for a few minutes, grasping desperately for answers within his head. How could this have happened? How could he have let this happen??

"You know," Marco murmured weakly, "Jackie and I decided to stop dating pretty soon after you left Earth. I knew finding my best friend and being there to support her was more important than focusing on a girlfriend, and Jackie agreed....but I also think she was convinced that I'd fallen for you..."

He winced.

“...but I guess none of that really matters now, huh?"

Marco gazed down at the princess's fallen form, wishing beyond belief that he'd done things differently in Star's time on Earth, wishing he knew what he could have done to prevent her from ending up like this, wishing he'd been able to see the truth before it had been too late to act upon it.

"I'll finish what you started, Star," he vowed, determination seeping into his voice. "I promise, I'll do everything I can to protect the citizens of Mewni and defeat Toffee. And I promise that I'll never stop looking for a way to bring you back and that you'll always be the best, most amazing friend I could've ever hoped to have, and that..."

His voice cracked.

"...and that I'll always love you."

Gently, Marco brushed a rebellious strand of blonde hair off of Star's forehead and planted a soft kiss on her brow.

"Goodbye, Star."

With this, Marco's resolve shattered, and he broke down in gut-wrenching sobs, shoulders quaking and chest burning.

So it made sense that he didn't notice when the two hearts stamped on Star's cheeks began glowing faintly.

Slowly, translucent webs of purple began weaving themselves around the princess's form, lifting her up bit by bit as they did so. Star herself did not stir, but something within her most certainly was stirring.

When Marco felt Star's fingers shift away from his, his eyes shot wide open. Out of instinct, he jerked back upon observing her continue to rise off of the ground, still unconscious. As the webs grew thicker and thicker, encasing the princess's entire body, the rosy glow emanating from them only grew as well. Marco watched in awe as the chrysalis began to vibrate when it rose to around five feet off of the ground. Faster and stronger it writhed, until at last, with a searing flash of light so bright and pink that Marco lost his vision for a couple of seconds, the figure within burst free.

"......am I dead? ..... Marco, is that you?? Are we both dead???"

Marco, unfortunately, was currently incapable of offering any sort of response. He simply stood, gaping, with his eyes set upon the girl hovering a few yards away from him.

Star waved her hands in Marco's direction, only to recoil when she found more than eight fingers—and purple ones, no less!—at her disposal. "Yikes!!" she shrieked, recoiling.

Her eyes narrowed as she examined her two newly-formed sets of limbs. "....wait a minute."

Tentatively, she craned her head back--and gasped with joy at what she discovered.

"MY MEWBERTY WINGS!!!!!!!" Star giggled gleefully, twirling circles in the air on a pair of intricately-patterned lavender wings. "THEY'RE ALL GROWN UP!!!!!!"

And indeed they were. Star Butterfly had at last unlocked the full heritage of the Butterfly dynasty coded deep within her DNA. Unfolding from her back were two massive butterfly wings adorned with shimmering hearts. Six arms extended from her torso now, and a pair of dainty antennae bobbled above her head. Her hair, now also a shade of dark violet, had shortened significantly as well, so as not to get caught in her wings.

"This is so cool...!" Star breathed. "Marco, what do you think??"

The sound of Star repeating his name finally snapped Marco out of his stupor.

"....STAR!!!!!!" he proclaimed elatedly, hastily rushing over to her with a luminescent grin on his face. "You're okay!!!!! Well—more than okay, actually!"

Beaming, Star scooped Marco up in a six-armed hug and spun him around in the air a few times, the two of them laughing and celebrating as if the events of the past month or so had never occurred.

But just as quickly as Star's mood spiraled upward, reality set back in as she began recalling where she was. Quickly, the princess set Marco down before planting her own feet on the floor.

"Wait a minute..." she voiced with uncertainty, cocking her head at her best friend. "Didn't Toffee, like, drain my powers and more or less leave me for dead? That's the last thing I remember..."

Marco nodded with a little shiver. “…yup.”

"So...how am I prancing about on newly-grown mewberty wings now?"

Marco shrugged. He had to keep blinking to assure himself that Star’s transformation wasn’t just a cruel trick of his heartache-addled mind.

Star stared at him for a moment, perplexed. Then, without quite knowing why she was led to do so, she tentatively raised a hand to her forehead and touched it—in the very spot where Marco had kissed her only minutes before.

Instantly, a wave of understanding pummeled Star, and she staggered back.

"...it was you!" she gasped.

But before she had the chance to elaborate on this, the stone guarding the entrance to the cave groaned and started shifting to the side.

“You know something, Marco?” Toffee called out as he pushed the stone away. “I’ve been thinking...maybe you have some potential after all! You see, I’ve been meaning to find a new—erm, shall we say, host? And what better person to destroy Mewni as than the former princess’s best fri—“

Toffee took pride in having mastered a distinctly precise ability to mask his emotions. It was one of the qualities that kept him on his toes after centuries of plotting against the Butterfly family. But even he, the immortal monster of legends and tapestries, could not contain his bewilderment at the sight awaiting him.

Star Butterfly was fine. More than fine, actually. She had never appeared more powerful. And Marco Diaz, the seemingly-useless karate boy, was standing right beside her.

Heroes and villain stared wide-eyed at each other, each wondering how to gain the upper hand. After matter of seconds that consisted of Toffee darting his gaze between the princess and her prince, understanding suddenly dawned upon him. He chuckled, quickly regaining his composure.

“Well well…” the monster crooned with a smirk, directing his gaze towards Marco. “Looks like you aren’t as much of a disappointment as I thought.

“And Star! Why, you look just like your mom did the last time we fought. It's a shame to think of her discovering that her dear little princess finally earned her wings but tragically had the life re-drained out of her before she really got to use them…I’ll be sure to dispose of her before she has to find out." With these words, Toffee fired a blast of green magic at the currently-wandless Star, smiling wickedly.

Star, however, wasn't going to give herself up so easily this time. Eyes and hearts igniting, she thrust her hands forward as searing pink magic gushed out of them like a waterfall and formed a bubble around her. Toffee's blast fizzled and sputtered away as soon as it touched the force-field.

Toffee's eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in disdain. He fired another shot at Star, and then another, and then another, but the warrior princess deflected every blast as effortlessly as if she'd been doing it for her whole life. When Toffee realized that he'd lost his chance to defeat her, he made a last-ditch attempt to gain the upper hand by manifesting a giant, luminescent green limb and snatching Marco—who'd been soaking up every second of the battle from the sidelines, awestruck—with it....not realizing his action would have the opposite effect of what he intended.

"NO."

The next thing Toffee knew, he was lying flat on his back with the wind knocked out of his host's puny lungs. He could vaguely make out the hazy form of Star Butterfly hovering over him with a venomous glint in her eyes.

"You can try and kill me all you want, but touch Marco....and I'll destroy you," she declared in a razor-sharp whisper.

For the first time since he'd lost his finger to Moon, all those years ago, Toffee's stomach--though, technically it was still Ludo's stomach--lurched as an unpleasant chill seized his body.

He was afraid.

With the last of his energy, the villain rose from the ground and frantically fled the cave, leaving Star's wand behind in his haste.

Star remained hovering in the air, glaring after him with the same stone-hard expression on her face.

".....Star?"

Tentatively, Marco approached the princess and grabbed the hand that was nearest to him.

"You can calm down now. He's gone."

Star's shoulders relaxed, and she gently sank to the ground, her wings and extra arms folding up and disappearing as she did so. Marco immediately knelt beside his best friend and helped her to stand, supporting her weight while she re-adjusted to her normal form.

Star winced, holding one of two hands to her now-pale forehead

"Ugh....Mom didn't tell me how draining it is to earn your wings...." she grumbled.

Marco, on the other hand, had never felt more alive. "Star, that was amazing!!!!" he exclaimed. "You just took down Toffee, the same guy who managed to defeat the entire magic high commission and drain their powers in less than two minutes!!! And after he'd drained your power, too!!!!! You still managed to beat him!!!!!!"

Star stared at the ground for a bit, the gears in her head whirring. Finally, she raised her gaze to Marco, hand still poised at the top of her head.

"But I couldn't have done it if it weren't for you.”

"....what do you mean?" Marco asked—though deep down he suspected he understood what Star was getting at.

"I--I'm not sure..." Star replied sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders with a meager chuckle. "It's just...it's like....you replenished my power source. I can feel it was you. But I can't figure out how!!"

Marco bit his lip, uncertain as to how he could be more anxious in this moment than he'd been when Toffee was about to possess him.

Then, he spotted the royal wand, which was still strewn on the floor. Swiftly, he scooped up the heirloom and held it out to Star, who seemed to snap back into focus upon seeing it.

"You're right, Marco," the princess decreed, reclaiming her wand from her best friend. "We'll talk through this later."

Grinning mischievously, Star sprang into the air and raised her arms, and suddenly she was a butterfly again!

"Right now, we have a kingdom to save!"

...

Thanks for reading!! I actually wrote part of a continuation to this back in the day but I never quite finished it...soooo I’m going to try to finish it and then post the conclusion sometime!

(And AGAIN there’s a lot of canon-divergent stuff in this fic, I know Star isn’t ACTUALLY biologically a Butterfly😅. But I didn’t know that four years ago, lol!)

#Cadence writes #Ancient art #(fic counts as art technically) #(Lol) #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #star butterfly #Marco diaz #starco #toffee the lizard #toffee of septarsis #star vs the forces of evil fanfic #also uh #tw: temporary character death #sorta? #angst