#i was gonna put 'minor character death' but like

[simjaexy]

𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙈𝙮 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙇.𝙃.

Pairing ⇀ Popular Bad Boy! Lee Heeseung x (F) Nerd! Reader

Synopsis ⇀ You were a nerd, always with your nose in a book, acing every test, and keeping a low profile. What comes as a normal life of yours soon takes a turn when your mom finally gets married to a man that you soon found out was Lee Heeseung dad, the school bad boy. Even though Heeseung doesn’t know you, he can’t help but want to corrupt you in every possible way. So what happens when new things start to unfold between you two that he’s never felt before with someone?

Genre ⇀ Smut, Angst

Warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, Cheating, Karina is Heeseung’s girlfriend, Cursing, Crying, Minor character death, Family issues (on Heeseungs side), Heeseung is mean and toxic to reader a lot of times, Partying, Drinking, Bullying, Jealousy, Kissing, Making out, Biting, Hickeys, Receiving (m&f), Blowjobs, Eating out, Dom! Heeseung x Sub! Reader, Name calling (nerd, princess, etc.), Grinding, Semi public sex, Overstimulation (f), Fingering, Jealous sex, Rough sex, Breeding kink

W.c ⇀ 12.4k (oops)

A/n ⇀ Hi guys :), this fic honestly was fun and long to make. I was gonna make it longer but since I’m making a Sunghoon fic soon Kndecided to just keep it simple (somewhat). If you guys want a request of another fic/drabble I would not mind at all! This fic is based off of this song so take a listen to it! None of these characters act like this in real life! Like, Comment, Reblog, etc.. Not proofread!

Second marriages were a bitch. As much as you loved seeing your mom feeling happy again, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of something missing. Your Happiness. You wouldn’t say you were exactly happy when your mom sat you down at the dining table and saying she was getting married.

You remember how nervous she sounded, her fingers fidgeting in stress. You didn’t know you could make her feel that way over marriage. You’ve always been close to your dad until he died. It was a hard time coping, which is why you bury yourself with books and studies. You were called a nerd by other people though, but that’s not the whole point why you were moving.

Moving into a new house was supposed to be a fresh start for you and your mom. After years of living alone, your mom finally found happiness with a man you didn’t know at all, and their marriage meant a new family dynamic.

You weren’t sure if the mysterious man however had a kid. You were hoping he didn’t, it would mean less problems to you and babysitting when they go out. Only if you knew who would be the person that would be with you and your happy little life from that day on.

“Is he rich?” You asked your mom who was driving you guys to the house. You noticed she was less nervous now, but still had her fidgeting habit going on.

“I didn’t marry him because he is rich sweetie. I married him because I loved him.” You mom replied.

You shrugged your shoulders, “So he is rich.” You mumbled. Your mom didn’t say anything and continued driving with the music low. You didn’t mention anything else after that.

You and your mom drove through the winding roads, the scenery gradually changing from modest homes to grand estates. Your heart raced with anticipation and curiosity.

Once your mom finally came to a stop at a big house, your mouth went agape. The mansion loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece that seemed to stretch endlessly. The sprawling gardens were meticulously maintained, with fountains and statues dotting the landscape. You couldn't help but gape at the sheer size and opulence of it all.

"Wow," You whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.

Your mom glanced over at you with a knowing smile, "Impressive, isn't it? Mr. Lee has done very well for himself."

As you pulled up to the grand entrance, you couldn’t help but think of the last name. Lee? It’s sounded somewhat familiar to you, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

As you guys got out the car, Mr. Lee stepped out to greet you, his smile as warm and welcoming as ever, "Welcome! I hope the drive wasn't too tiring," He said. He went over to your mom and gave her a quick peck to the lips. You mentally gag at the way they were already being loved dovey.

He then went towards you, giving you a quick handshake that you appreciated before he ushered you both inside.

The interior was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and art pieces that looked like they belonged in a museum. You tried to take it all in, but it was almost too much.

“This place is amazing," you said, still in awe. He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes.

"I'm glad you like it. Come on, let me show you around." He insisted. As you followed him through the grand halls and lavish rooms, you couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. It wasn’t something you were used too.

You were used to your cozy house that had a tiny garden on one side of your front yard, the claustrophobic hallway you used to run in when you were little. The small living room that only fitted up to five people. Thinking about your old house already felt nostalgic. Walking through this though, you didn’t know if you were gonna get used to it.

Mr. Lee finally came to a halt at the stairs and stared over at you, “The maid can show you your room. She knows where it’s at.”

You noticed a middle aged woman next to Mr. Lee smiling at you. You gave him a curt nod before following the maid upstairs. As you walked in the halls with the maid you couldn’t help but stare at the photos hung up.

You didn’t see any photos of a women or a kid anywhere with Mr. Lee, so maybe you really were gonna be the only child. Some part of that made you feel giddy. The maid finally stops at a door and opens it. You went inside in awe. Your room was beautiful to say the least.

The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that let in streams of natural light. The walls were painted a soft pastel color, giving the room a serene and welcoming feel. A plush, king-sized bed sat in the center, adorned with fluffy pillows and a cozy duvet.

To one side of the room, there was a stylish desk with a comfortable chair, perfect for studying or writing. Shelves lined the walls, ready to be filled with your favorite books and trinkets. A beautiful vanity stood in one corner, complete with a large mirror and ample storage for all your beauty essentials.

The best part, however, was the view. Walking over to the windows, you pulled back the curtains and gasped. The room overlooked a stunning garden, filled with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. You could already imagine spending hours sitting by the window, enjoying the peaceful scenery.

You couldn't help but smile as you took it all in. This room was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. It was your own little sanctuary, a place where you could relax, unwind, and be yourself.

You turned to look over at the maid who was still smiling, “Beautiful isn’t it? It was my idea since I’m the only women in this house.” The maid chimed.

“It’s very beautiful. Thank you.” You responded. She gave you chuckle and a nod before slowly shutting the door, leaving you alone in the room.

As you started to unpack your belongings and make the room your own, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. This was your new home, and you couldn't wait to create beautiful memories here.

The sun was setting when you finally finished unpacking a few boxes. You let out a sigh and wiped your sweat off your forehead. You checked the time and saw that it was almost time for you to head to sleep.

As you were about to move a box, you suddenly felt the random urge to use the restroom, “Now that I thought about it I haven’t you used the restroom all day.” You murmured to yourself. You opened your bedroom door and stepped out.

You wandered through the unfamiliar hallways of Mr. Lee’s mansion, trying to remember the directions he had given you to the bathroom. Every door looked the same, and you were starting to feel a bit lost.

Pushing open yet another door, you suddenly froze. There, in the middle of the room, stood a boy you knew all too well. Lee Heeseung, shirtless with only a towel wrapped around him. It seemed like he just got out of the shower since his hair was still wet. His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" You blurted out, quickly averting your gaze, "I was just looking for the bathroom.”

Heeseung's expression shifted to one of annoyance, "Do you always barge into rooms without knocking?" He snapped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I-I didn't mean to," You stammered, feeling even more flustered. "I just got lost."

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles even more prominent, "Typical. Can't even follow simple directions from my dad."

You felt a mix of embarrassment and irritation at his rude comments, "Look, I said I was sorry. It was an accident. A-And your dad didn’t give me any directions!”

Heeseung scoffed, a scowl on his lips, "Whatever. Just get out of here."

You quickly backed out of the room, closing the door behind you. As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Angry, embarrassed, upset, and flustered? You groaned as you entered your room again and slammed it shut. You plopped on your bed.

The thought suddenly came to you. Lee Heeseung owns this house too, and you don’t think he’s gonna be nice to you anytime soon. You sighed and rolled on your bed. You were just hoping tomorrow won’t go bad. And ignoring the fact that you still had to use the restroom.

The next morning, you groggily made your way down to the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. As you rounded the corner, you froze. There, standing by the kitchen island, was Heeseung, chatting casually with your mom and his dad. Your mom noticed you first and smiled warmly.

"Good morning, sweetie! Come here, I want you to meet someone," She said, beckoning you over. You walked over, feeling a bit nervous under Heeseung's gaze.

"This is Heeseung," Your mom introduced, "Mr. Lee son."

Heeseung smirked, looking you up and down. "Oh, so you're the one who lives here? I was wondering why the house felt so... ordinary."

You felt your face heat up with anger. He met you yesterday and now he’s gonna act like he doesn’t know you? The audacity! You forced a smile and replied, "Nice to meet you too, Heeseung."

Your mom looked between the two of you, clearly sensing the tension. "Well, I'm sure you'll get along just fine once you get to know each other," She said, trying to lighten the mood.

You shot Heeseung one last glare before turning on your heel and heading back to your room. You rather eat breakfast at school than in front of him.

You adjusted your glasses and gave yourself one last look in the mirror before grabbing your backpack. Today was going to be another long day at school, but you were ready for it. As you reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and you found yourself face to face with Heeseung.

Heeseung leaned against the doorframe with a smirk playing on his lips, "Hey, nerd," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You sighed, already feeling the tension, "What do you want, Heeseung?"

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Just a little reminder," He said, his tone turning serious, "When we're at school, don't act like we live together. In fact, don't act like you even know me."

You felt a pang of hurt but masked it with a cool expression, "Don't worry, Heeseung. I have no intention of ruining your reputation."

Heeseung's smirk returned, "Good. Just keep to yourself, and we'll be fine."

With that, he stepped aside, letting you pass. You walked down the hallway, feeling a mix of emotions. Living with Heeseung was already challenging, but pretending like you didn't know each other at school was going to be even harder.

As you walked out the door, you couldn't help but wonder why he cared so much about what others thought. But one thing was clear: you were determined to survive this, no matter how difficult Heeseung made it.

Classes slowly came along, you hated how tired you already were. But one thing for sure is that it was the walking this morning. You had to walk to school while Heeseung just drove right past you with his expensive car, not even offering to ask if you wanted a ride to the same damn school.

When it finally came to lunch you decided to go to the library, a place where you could immerse yourself in books and escape the chaos of high school life.

You were hunched over a thick biology textbook, diligently taking notes when you heard the familiar sound of giggles and whispers. You tried to ignore it, but the voices grew louder until they were impossible to tune out.

"Look at her, always with her nose in a book," One of the girls sneered. "Does she think she’s better than us?"

You kept your eyes on your notes, hoping they would get bored and leave. But they didn’t.

"Hey, nerd," Another girl said, leaning over your table and blocking your view, "Do you even have a life outside of studying?"

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, “I’m just trying to study. Can you please leave me alone?"

The girls laughed, and one of them snatched your notebook, “Oh, look at this! She’s taking notes like a good little student."

You reached out to grab your notebook back, but they held it out of reach, teasing you. Just then, you saw Heeseung walk past the library entrance. Your heart leaped with a strange mix of hope and anxiety. Surely, he would help you. After all, you shared a house, even if he pretended you didn’t exist at school.

"Heeseung!" you called out, your voice wavering slightly.

Heeseung paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours. But instead of coming to your aid, he simply looked away and continued walking, as if you were invisible.

The girls burst into laughter again, "Even Heeseung doesn’t care about you. How pathetic."

You felt a lump form in your throat, but you refused to cry in front of them. Summoning all your strength, you snatched your notebook back and gathered your things, leaving the library as quickly as you could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. You couldn’t focus in class, your mind replaying the humiliating scene over and over. When the final bell rang, you headed home, determined to confront Heeseung.

You found him in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. "Heeseung, we need to talk," You said, your voice firm.

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, “What’s up, nerd?"

You took a deep breath, "Why didn’t you help me today? You saw those girls making fun of me, and you just walked away."

Heeseung shrugged, closing the fridge door, "Not my problem."

Your frustration boiled over, "How can you say that? We live together, Heeseung. You could have at least said something to them."

Heeseung leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, "Look, what happens at school stays at school. I’m not your babysitter. Deal with your own problems."

You stared at him, disbelief and hurt washing over you, "Is that really how you feel? That I’m just a problem?"

Heeseung’s expression softened for a brief moment, but he quickly masked it with indifference, "Yeah, pretty much."

You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, "Fine. If that’s how it is, then don’t expect anything from me either."

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Heeseung standing in the kitchen. As you retreated to your room, you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

You had always known Heeseung was a popular person but also bad at the same time, for his rebellious nature, skipping classes, and getting into trouble, but you had hoped there was more to him. Today, he had shown you exactly who he was, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You were glad tomorrow was the weekend which meant you can just sleep all the embarrassment away from today. You quickly changed and went right to sleep, not even bothering to take off your glasses.

The morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stirred awake, feeling unusually refreshed. As you reached for your glasses, you noticed they were perfectly set on the nightstand. Confused, you distinctly remembered falling asleep with them on.

You slipped on your glasses and made your way downstairs, the aroma of breakfast guiding you. Entering the kitchen, you saw your mom chatting with Mr. Lee, but there was no sign of Heeseung.

“Good morning, sweetheart," Your mom greeted you with a smile.

“Morning, Mom," You replied, still puzzled, "Did you take off my glasses last night?"

She shook her head, looking just as confused, “No, I didn't. Maybe Heeseung did before he left with his friends?"

Your eyebrows furrowed more. Heeseung came into my room? You shook your head and gave your mom a tight smile. Whatever she was thinking had to be wrong. Not after what happened last night.

Your mom then got up and exscused herself to the restroom. You sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the breakfast your mom had prepared. Mr. Lee joined you, sipping his coffee and looking thoughtful.

"Did Heeseung ever get a chance to talk to you?" he asked casually.

You hesitated for a moment, the best you could do is lie after anything that’s happening between you, "No, we didn't have time to talk."

Heeseung's dad sighed, shaking his head. "That boy... He never wants to talk to anyone aside from me and his close friends. It's like he's in his own world sometimes."

Hearing this, you felt a pang of guilt for lying. You knew Heeseung was reserved, but it hurt seeing that his father noticed that too.

“I-I mean we say our hi’s and byes. We just don’t really have a full conversation.” You spoke.

His father nodded, “I’m just hoping you talk to him soon. I’m not trying to put any pressure on the two of you, but Heeseung has always done bad things after my divorce with my ex wife. He’d always go out doing bad stuff and getting in deep trouble. Then he’d go partying and drinking and come back home late. I feel like if you guys talked he’d understand on your side that it’s not just about messing up your life for the worse.”

You stared at him pitful. Maybe if you could try to talk to Heeseung about everything with his dad it could help, but then again it’s not your problem to fix.

“I understand where your coming from Mr. Lee. I’ll try to talk to Heeseung more often.” You smiled softly. Mr. Lee smiled back grateful. Your mom soon came back as you all continued eating your food.

The sun began setting when you decided to finally leave your room after studying for so long. You tiptoed downstairs and headed to the living room. There you saw Heeseung playing video games on the big TV yelling at his friends.

“Dude what the fuck? I said left dumbass!” He shouted. You rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen and grabbed a snack. You took a piece of candy bar and chewed on it while heading back upstairs while hearing Heeseung cuss out his friends.

You shut the door and grabbed your phone as you sat on your bed. You scrolled through social media for a while when all of a sudden your door slammed open. Your eyes widened when you saw Heeseung looking angrily at you.

His eyes widened when he saw you holding something, “Hey! Did you just steal my candy bar?"

You looked up, then looked down at the candy that was already almost gone. Feeling a bit guilty but also defiant, “I was hungry and it was just sitting there."

Heeseung frowned, clearly upset, "That was mine! I was saving it for later."

"I'm sorry, Heeseung. I didn't think you'd mind. I'll get you another one." You reasoned, but Heeseungs ant having any of it.

Before he was gonna rant, he suddenly stopped himself, “I don’t want another one.” He suddenly said.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “T-Then what do you want?” You stuttered. You mentally slapped yourself from how nervous you sounded. Heeseung didn’t say anything and suddenly walked to you, pushing you on your bed. You let out a gasp and stared up at him on top of you.

“Heeseung what are you-“

“Shut up.” He cut you off. You felt his breath on your face. You lay frozen underneath him, waiting for his next move. He took one of his hands and rubbed along your leg making you jolt.

“Hee-“

“I said shut up.” He snapped. You immediately shut your mouth. He then lowered his head on your neck. You felt his hot breath hitting your cold neck. Your eyes shot wide when you felt him lay a soft kiss on it.

“What if I wanna taste something sweeter?” He mumbled in your neck. You let out a whimper when he suddenly squeezed your leg tight. You shut your eyes closed when he finally lifted his head back up, staring right at you.

You waited, but nothing came. Instead you felt his weight get off of you making you slowly open your eyes. You saw him on the side of your bed, with his half eaten candy bar in his hand.

“Next time ask.” Was all he said before leaving your room, slamming it shut. You finally let go of the breath you were holding on to and held your chest.

What the fuck just happen.

After that incident you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the night. You didn’t wanna see Heeseung after what happened. You were deep into your late-night study session when a faint noise downstairs caught your attention.

Curious and a bit concerned, you quietly made your way down the stairs. The sight of Heeseung, dressed in his usual bad boy attire and slipping on his leather jacket, stopped you in your tracks.

"Heeseung, where are you going?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung glanced at you, his expression unreadable, "It's none of your business," He replied curtly.

You frowned, sensing something was off. "I know you're going to a party. You shouldn't go. What if your dad finds out?"

Heeseung scoffed, shaking his head, “I don't care what he thinks. I need to get out of here."

You stepped closer, your concern growing, "Please, Heeseung. It's not worth the trouble. You know how much your dad worries about you."

Heeseung paused, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. For a second, you thought he might reconsider. But then he turned away, determination in his stride, "I'll deal with it," he muttered before heading out the door.

You stood there, feeling a mix of worry and helplessness, hoping that Heeseung would stay safe and that one day he might understand how much people cared about him.

You didn’t get how he turns so fast from you. The mix emotions he gives you that leaves you a mess. Has he always had that impact on someone? You went back upstairs deciding to just leave it alone. Besides, he’ll never listen to you.

After few hours of thinking and worrying for Heeseung you finally were able to go to sleep. The house was silent and dark, when you heard the creak of your bedroom door. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see Heeseung stumbling into your room. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were unfocused.

"Heeseung? What are you doing here?" You asked, sitting up in bed.

Without a word, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, his head resting on your pillow, "I just... I needed to see you," He slurred, his voice thick with alcohol.

You frowned, worried about his state, "You shouldn't be here. You need to sleep it off."

Heeseung ignored your concern, his eyes half-closed, "You know, you're always so... so smart. I wish I could be like you. Those fuckers.. don’t know what their talking about," He mumbled, his words tumbling out in a disjointed stream.

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Shocked, you froze for a moment before instinctively slapping him.

Heeseung pulled back, a hurt look in his eyes. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered, getting up and stumbling out of the room.

You sat there, your heart racing, trying to process what had just happened. You didn’t know what came over you to slap him. You then touch your lips. His faint soft lips printed on yours. It then hit you, he was your first kiss.

The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. The events of the previous night played on a loop in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. As you walked down the hallway, you saw Heeseung approaching from the other end. Your heart raced, and you felt a wave of panic wash over you.

Heeseung walked past you without a second glance, as if nothing had happened. Confused and hurt, you turned to confront him, "Heeseung, about last night..."

Heeseung stopped and looked at you, his expression blank, “What about last night?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“You- don’t you remember?" you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Heeseung frowned, shaking his head, "I don't remember anything from last night. I was pretty out of it."

His words felt like a punch to the gut. You had been so affected by what happened, but to him, it was just a forgotten moment in a drunken haze. Feeling a mix of frustration and sadness, you walked away to the restroom, trying to push the memory to the back of your mind.

How could he forget that? Now you're the only one to remember the mess he had made. You did your usual in the bathroom and came out. You didn’t Heeseung anywhere and went back to your room. Maybe going on a walk would be fine to clear the head. As you finished getting dressed, you opened your door and headed downstairs.

You didn’t noticed Heeseung anywhere and put on your shoes before heading out the door. As you stepped outside, you saw him playing basketball in the driveway.

Heeseung glanced up, noticing you, "Where are you going?" he asked, pausing his game.

"For a walk," You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He simply nodded and went back to his game, the sound of the ball bouncing echoing in the quiet morning. You continued walking, but your mind kept drifting back to the way he had kissed you. The memory was vivid, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake it off.

Each step you took seemed to bring back a fragment of that moment, making it harder to move on. You felt a pang of longing mixed with the hurt of knowing he didn't remember. The walk, meant to be a distraction, only made you more aware of the emotions you were trying to escape.

You came back a few minutes later, it was just a walk around the neighborhood anyways. Heeseung was still playing, not paying any mind to you. You walked past him and went inside. You decided to do your studies in the kitchen.

You went upstairs to grab your essentials before coming back down and sitting at the kitchen table, buried in a pile of homework. Heeseung soon came inside and sauntered in the kitchen. He grabbed an apple, and sat across from you. He watched you intently, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Why do you always have your head in a book? Don't you ever do anything fun?" he asked, taking a bite of the apple.

"Studying is fun for me," you replied curtly, not looking up.

Heeseung laughed, "You really are something else."

You rolled your eyes, “At least I don’t go out partying and getting drunk and coming back and doing the unthinkable.”

Heeseung stopped chewing and stared at you with an unreadable expression. It was silent for a few minutes and that’s when you were gonna apologize but he beat you to it.

“Did I bring my girlfriend over yesterday?” He whispered. You paused and looked at him. He has a girlfriend? You felt your mouth go completely dry.

Heeseung has a girlfriend. When the hell did he had a girlfriend? That’s when it finally came to you. Heeseung has a girlfriend, and he kissed you. Heeseung noticed your shocked face and waved his hand in front of your face, “Nerd? You there?” He said.

“Y-You have a girlfriend?” You questioned.

Heeseung frowned before nodding, “Haven’t told my dad though since he would freak out, but now that I’ve brung her over it’s fine.”

He thinks he brung her over last night. He really doesn’t remember anything, you thought.

“No you didn’t bring her over Heeseung, “ You didn’t know if it was even okay to say anything at this point, “I-I was talking about what you did with me-“

“Y/n sweetie were heading out can you lock the door?” You mom yells from the living room. You gasped, completely forgetting that your mom and Mr. Lee were even home.

“Coming!” You yelled back. You ignored Heeseungs look and went to your mom in the living room. She kissed your cheek before shutting the door. You locked it and headed back to the kitchen.

You noticed Heesueng looked deep in thought. You slowly walked over to him, “Heeseung-“

"Forget about last night," He said abruptly, his voice lacking its usual edge.

You blinked, taken aback, "What do you mean?"

Heeseung's eyes shifted away from yours, "Just forget it happened," he repeated, more firmly this time. Without waiting for a response, he got up from his seat and walked away, leaving you alone with a whirlwind of emotions.

You decided to shake it off and bury yourself in your homework, but his words kept coming back. Each time you tried to focus on a math problem or a history chapter, your mind wandered back to the way he said it so causally. It was impossible to concentrate, and your frustration grew with each passing minute.

As night fell, you heard the familiar sound of Heeseung's laughter outside. You looked out the window and saw him heading out with his friends, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. You didn’t even hear him leave. The sight of him leaving made your heart sink. A mix of anger and sadness welled up inside you, he really doesn’t learn.

The next morning, something felt off. You woke up and immediately went to Heeseungs room. You knocked on the door about five times before opening it, that’s when you noticed that Heeseung's bed was untouched. Panic started to creep in as you realized he hadn't come home. You tried to rationalize it, telling yourself that he might have crashed at a friend's place. But the nagging worry wouldn't go away.

As you made your way downstairs, you were greeted by Mr. Lee. His eyes were filled with concern, and you could tell he had noticed Heeseung's absence as well. "Did Heeseung mention anything to you last night? He didn’t come home last night or today." he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing. You knew you should tell him the truth, that Heeseung had gone out and hadn't come back. But something held you back. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to Heeseung you didn’t know of, or perhaps a fear of getting him into trouble, "No, nothing happened," You lied, forcing a smile, “He probably just stayed over at a friend's place."

Heeseung's dad didn't look convinced, but he nodded, seemingly accepting your explanation. You quickly grabbed your bag and headed out the door, eager to escape the tense atmosphere.

School felt like a blur. You couldn't focus on your classes, your mind constantly drifting back to Heeseung. You scanned the hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere in sight. Each passing hour only intensified your worry.

By lunchtime, you were a bundle of nerves. You sat alone at your usual spot in the cafeteria, poking at your food without any real appetite. The absence of Heeseung was worrying you like crazy, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself checking your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call from him. But there was nothing. The silence was deafening, and the worry gnawed at you like a relentless beast.

You knew you had to find him, to make sure he was okay. But where to start? Heeseung was a master at keeping his whereabouts a mystery, and you had no idea where he could be. The uncertainty was suffocating, and you felt utterly helpless.

As you walked home that evening, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. You couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened, something that had kept Heeseung from coming home.

Heeseung finally stumbled through the front door late at night, his usual nonchalant demeanor firmly in place. You had been sitting on the couch, unable to focus on anything but the worry gnawing at your insides. The moment you saw him, relief flooded through you, but it was quickly replaced by a mix of frustration and concern.

"Heeseung, where have you been?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He shrugged, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the stairs, "Out with friends. I'm going to bed," He said casually.

Before he could take another step, Mr. Lee appeared, blocking his path. "Heeseung, we need to talk," Mr. Lee said sternly.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, "Not now, Dad. I'm tired."

But his dad wasn't having it, "No, we're talking now. You can't just come and go as you please without any explanation."

The tension in the room was palpable as the argument escalated, “And who are you to stop me?” Heeseung snapped. You gasped at the way Heeseung said that to Me. Lee.

Me. Lee let out a deep breath through his nose, “I am your father Heeseung.”

Heeseung scoffed, “You lost that status the second you told mom you wanted a divorce.”

Everything else just felt faint to you. Voices were raised, accusations were thrown, and you could see the hurt and anger in Heeseung's eyes. Finally, he stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

You hesitated for a moment, watching as Mr. Lee went to sit on the kitchen table. You decided to follow Heesueng. You found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Without a word, you sat down next to him and gently placed a hand on his back. Heeseung looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting embrace, “It's okay, Heeseung. I'm here for you," you murmured.

Heeseung finally let the tears fall, his body shaking with silent sobs. You held him close, offering what comfort you could. Gradually, the tension began to ease, and the exhaustion of the day caught up with both of you.

Eventually, you both lay down on his bed, still holding each other. As the night wore on, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the day fading away in the warmth of both of your presence.

The next morning, you woke up early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. You got ready for school, the house unusually quiet. As you walked into the kitchen, you were surprised to see Mr. Lee and your mom sitting at the table, sipping coffee and chatting.

"Good morning," you greeted them, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Good morning, dear," your mom replied with a warm smile, "Heeseung's in the shower. He'll be out soon."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You quickly got dressed and gathered your things for school. Just as you were finishing up, Heeseung emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and a towel slung over his shoulders.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual.

"Hey," you replied, trying to read his expression.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "Do you want a ride to school?"

You blinked in surprise. Heeseung offering to drive you to school was unexpected, especially after the tense night before. "Uh, sure. That'd be great."

As you walked to his car, you couldn't help but notice how different he seemed. The usual edge in his demeanor was softened, and he seemed genuine. The ride to school was quiet, but it wasn't the uncomfortable silence you had feared. Instead, it felt comforting.

When you arrived at school, Heeseung turned to you, "Thanks for being there last night."

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Anytime, Heeseung. Anytime."

Students watched as you and Heeseung got out of his cars. Whispers and chatters were heard around you, but you didn’t seem to care. Heeseung walked you to your class and bid you goodbye.

You didn’t know why Heeseung decided to change like this, but at the same time you weren’t complaining.

The school day went by fast to you. You didn’t see Heeseung at lunch, but decided to ignore it. You stepped out of the school gates and saw Heeseung. He made eye contact with you. You slowly walked over to him confused.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You asked him. He nodded his head and tilted it.

“I was waiting for you.” He spoke. Your eyes widened.

“Me? Why?” You mumbled. It was more like a question to yourself than him.

“Cause I can? Come on I’m getting tired. Feels like I’ve been standing here for ages.” He said. You guilty got into the car.

The car ride was silent when you guys got back. You and Heeseung both got out of his car, shutting it with slam. As you were gonna go to the door Heeseung suddenly grabbed your wrist. Your eyebrows furrowed as you look at him.

"I need your help," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "My dad owes me an apology, and I think you can help me get it."

You were taken aback. Was that why he was being nice to you? You didn’t know what to feel.

“Is that why you were nice to me today?” You mumbled, feeling somewhat offended.

Heeseung shook his head confused, “Of course not. I was being nice because of what you did yesterday. No one has ever done that before.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, you began to think that maybe, just maybe, Heeseung was more than his bad boy facade.

“Okay, I’ll help you.” You said. Heeseung gave you a sweet smile that made your feel some type of way. Nonetheless, you gave him a smile back.

Over the next few days, Heeseung's behavior changed. He started doing small, nice things for you—making you coffee in the morning, helping you with your chores, and even engaging in conversations about your interests.

You couldn’t help but notice how when he listened to you, he had a look in his eyes that made your heart race. How he listened to every last detail you’d tell about anything. How he makes comments about little things about you that you’ve never mentioned to him or anyone else. You felt like Heeseung was actually making a change towards you.

On the other hand, you gave out advice for him to follow to make his dad apologize, like suggesting he have an honest conversation about his feelings. Surprisingly, Heeseung took your advice to heart.

Finally, the day came when Heeseung confronted his dad about everything. It didn’t come as easy though.

“Heeseung, I want you to understand the importance of this family. I know we all don’t understand you the way your mom did, but I’m willing to make an effort to show you to see the good side of life.” Mr. Lee said. You noticed Heeseung was a lot calmer than the last time. While on your end, you were praying to god nothing breaks out into fits of anger.

“I know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how our family used to be. I miss how we we used to be.” Heeseung whispered the last part under his death.

You watched how Mr. Lee's face went from upset to sad. You felt bad that you couldn’t step in and comfort. The moment those two words fell out, Mr. Lee lips, for the first time you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in Heeseung's eyes. They hugged and departed from each other. Mr. Lee gave you a knowing nod with you smiling back.

Heeseung looked over at you and gave you a small smile. That was the first time he ever smiled at you. You gave a him a big smile back with a thumbs up. Just as you thought everything will finally get better, you soon found out how wrong you were.

Later that night, Heeseung, having achieved his goal, didn't stick around to celebrate with you. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and headed out to a party, leaving you standing alone in the house, feeling used and betrayed.

You sat on the couch, staring at the door he had just walked out of, wondering if any of the kindness he had shown you was real or just a means to an end. The realization stung, but it also made you stronger.

Instead of letting him leave like that, your only thought was to follow him. You knew where he was going after hearing a phone call with his friend about a party that was happening later today. You grabbed your moms keys and left the house. You knew the address since you also overheard when his friend was on speaker.

You had never been to a party before, and tonight, you decided to see for yourself what drew him away so often. The party was at a house a few blocks away, already throbbing with loud music and laughter. You hesitated at the doorway, but your determination pushed you inside.

The atmosphere was overwhelming, a stark contrast to your usual quiet evenings. You scanned the room for Heeseung, hoping to catch a glimpse of him amidst the chaos.

As you navigated through the crowd, you accidentally bumped into someone. You groaned and looked up. Your eyes widened when you saw it was one of Heeseung's friends, Park Sunghoon. He was tall, with a smug smile that made you instantly freeze, "Hey, aren't you that nerd that was with Heeseung that one day? What are you doing here?" he questioned.

You straightened your posture, trying to muster some confidence, "It's none of your business why I'm here," you replied, your voice steady despite the knot in your stomach.

Sunghoon let out a deep chuckle before leaning on the wall. You weren’t gonna lie and say he didn’t look attractive doing that, “Right. None of my business. So did you just come here to get a quick fuck?”

You gasped at his sentence, “W-What? No! I-I was here just because I can!” You stuttered. Sunghoon smug smile never left when he suddenly leaned towards you. Both of your face close to each other.

“You know, if you ever wanna have fun, you know where I’m at. Heeseung doesn’t need to know.” Sunghoon whispered. Even though the music was booming loudly, you could still hear him from how close he was to you. His breath smelling like alcohol and somewhat of a minty smell.

Just as you were about to walk away, Heeseung suddenly appeared beside him. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition. But then, his expression turned cold.

“What are you doing Sunghoon?" He coolly asked, acting like you aren’t there. Sunghoon backed away from you and gave Heeseung a pat.

“Nothing man. Just talking to this nerd. You know her right?” Sunghoon teased. He knew the answer, but to your confusion he still asked.

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, "No idea who she is," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and hurt, you turned on your heel and pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to escape.

Thats when the tears stung your eyes as you made your way back to the apartment. The night air was cool against your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest.

You reached your car, fumbling with the keys. You finally managed to unlock the door and slid into the driver's seat, resting your head on the steering wheel. The sound of the passenger door opening startled you. You looked up, eyes widening as Heeseung climbed in beside you.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.

Heeseung leaned back in the seat, his expression unreadable, "Why were you at the party?" He asked, ignoring your question.

You looked away, not wanting to admit the truth, "I just wanted to see what it was like," You muttered.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You don't belong in places like that," He said firmly, "Why didn't you just stay home?"

You clenched your fists, frustration boiling over, "Because I wanted to see you," You blurted out before you could stop yourself, "I wanted to understand why you always leave. How parties can make your worries disappear! Why you always switch out on me.” You voice cracking at the end.

Heeseung's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek, "You don't always need to know everything about me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Heeseung leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart raced as you melted into the kiss, feeling the barriers between your worlds begin to crumble. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You suddenly remembered about his girlfriend and pushed him away, “Heeseung your girlfriend-“

“I don’t wanna think about her right now.” He said. You gulped hard. You knew what you did was wrong, but seeing Heeseung so calm made you relax a bit.

He then looked at you again, “Let's go home," He said softly. You slowly nodded and started the car, exiting the driveway and leaving the loud house. The car ride was silent, with Heeseung staring out the window.

You averted your gaze to him from time to time, however not saying anything. When you guys finally got back you got out the car and headed to the door. You unlocked it, letting yourself in before Heeseung came in.

Just as you were about to say something Heeseung suddenly pinned you on the door, “Heeseung what are you-“

He cut you off and kissed you harshly. You let out a gasp when he nibbled on your bottom lip. He then entered his tongue in your mouth. You squirmed feeling his hot tongue swirling with yours. It all felt too hot. You moaned when he roughly gripped your hips.

The thought of his girlfriend completely washed away when he broke the kiss with both of your salivas connecting at your lips. He didn’t waste a second, grabbing your wrist and taking you to his room. Heeseung's eyes glinted with mischief as he led you to his room, his grip firm yet oddly gentle.

It was the second time going to his room, this time with him with you. The contrast between his tough exterior and the care he took in guiding you made your heart race. As you stepped inside, you couldn't help but notice how surprisingly neat his room was.

Your eyes wandered over the shelves lined with books, some of which you recognized from your own collection. A small, framed photo of a younger Heeseung with a genuine smile caught your eye, and you felt a pang of curiosity about the story behind it. The room was filled with little details that contradicted his bad boy image – a neatly made bed, a few potted plants, and a desk organized with precision.

Heeseung caught you staring and smirked, "Surprised?" He asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. You nodded, unable to hide your amazement. "There's more to me than meets the eye," He said, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it before.

You sat on his bed with him still standing in front of you. He then leaned down and pecked your lips before going on top of you as you lay on the sheets. He started trailing kisses along your neck. You let out a quiet moan when you felt him starting to suck on your neck.

Heeseung grinned at your sensitivity and playfully bit your neck, making you squeak. You wrapped your arms instinctively around his neck. You mewled when you felt him grind on your cloth core. Everything felt too unreal to you.

“Fuck. I can practically feel your wetness.” He groaned. He took his hand and rubbed against your leg like the last time, but this time he slowly crept towards you core.

“H-Hee.” You whimpered. Hearing you already making a nickname for him made him hard. You let out a relief sigh when he finally rubbed against your heat. The pressure of pleasure floating in your body.

Heeseung bit his lip, suppressing a groan when he finally felt your wet shorts.

“Hee please.” You groaned. Heeseung smirked and stared at your facial expression. Mouth agape, eyes rolled back, hair messy, Heeseung knew he was gonna be a goner.

“What do you want princess?” He whispered. His voice husky and filled with lust. You felt yourself already creating a pool with the way he sounded.

“I-It feels weird Hee! Please do something.” You weakly stated. Something inside lit up in Heeseung hearing you say that.

A virgin is probably his most favorite thing when it comes to sex. He didn’t waste any time taking off your shorts. He let out a breath when he saw the wet patch on your underwear and lowered his body down.

Before you could ask what he was doing you suddenly felt a wet sensation on your underwear, “Oh god Heeseung!” You let out a cry and arched your back. Heeseung hummed and licked up and down on your slit. The feeling of pleasure was too much for you.

He stopped and looked up at you, “I wanna see you begging.” He breathed out. He slid off your underwear effortlessly revealing your glistening pussy. You tried covering yourself up but Heeseungs wasn’t having none of that. He pulled your legs apart roughly making you whine. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The way his hard stare was on you.

“If I would’ve know your pussy looked this good I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He said. Your eyes went wide. Now your cheeks were definitely a crimson red. He lowered once again and didn’t give you a chance to say anything before he dipped his tongue inside.

You gripped the sheets at his sudden urgency and let out a loud moan. You didn’t know if your guys parents were home, but it was too late now. He licked your folds up and down, swirling his tongue around your bud. You gripped his locks and wrapped your leg around his head.

“Hee! Oh fuck!” You squealed. He cursed in your pussy and finally dipped his tongue in your hole. You couldn’t control any of your moans anymore. The sound of slurping and moaning bounced around his room.

You felt a weird pit in your stomach and thrashed around, “H-Hee I think I’m gonna- ah!” You moaned and jerked forward. Your orgasm coming quickly and hard. Your mouth went agape as you let out hard breaths feeling Heeseung lick everything up.

You squeezed his locks, feeling overstimulated. You tapped his head weakly, “H-Heeseung no more.” You rasped out. Heeseung finally stopped and licked his lips. Your cum on his chin, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

“How am I gonna fit?” He asked you. Your eyes widened. Shit, he really wanted to have sex with you. You started stammering random words while Heeseung stared at you. If he was gonna fuck you, you have to enjoy it too.

He cut off your rant by kissing you again. You immediately kissed him back, not feeling his fingers near your hole. You let out a scream when you felt his finger slowly enter you.

“Shh it’s okay. It’ll hurt for a quick second.” He muttered. You tried to get used to it, however the pressure was too much.

“H-Heeseung I can’t! It hurts!” You sniffled. Heeseung pampered you with kisses, trying to distract you. You looked so pretty when you cry.

“I know princess. It’ll feel good. I promise.” He reasoned. You panted hard when you suddenly felt your hole slowly getting used to it. Soon enough you were a moaning mess all over again.

“Another one. P-Please.” You dictated. Heeseung grinned and added his other finger. You let out a moan in pleasure feeling his long thick fingers stretching you out.

You felt another orgasm coming again, but Heeseung took his fingers out making you whine. He ignored you, his grin never coming off his face.

He took off his shirt revealing his body. You bit your lip seeing his toned body. You felt something poking you and looked down. There was his hard dick poking out of his pants. You whimpered when he moved it towards your pussy.

“You like what you see?” He teased. You slowly nodded, unsure what to say at that moment. He chuckled at your cuteness and kissed your temple.

You reached your hand unsure if you could touch him. He didn’t seem to mind and leaned in more. You rubbed his cloth dick slowly causing him to hiss. You felt a sudden confidence coming over you and stroked his dick faster. At this point you were practically jerking him off and he seemed to like it, or even loved it.

He pulled away suddenly making you furrow your eyebrows, “Is something wrong?” You mumbled, your brain in a haze.

“I don’t wanna cum like this.” He said. You blushed when he started unbuckling his pants and taking off his pants and boxers at the same time. Your mouth went dry seeing his dick for the first time. It was big.

Is that even gonna fit?

He groaned when he touched it and stroked it slowly. You watched him stroke his dick slowly, blushing and panting. He looked down at you, “Are you ready?”

You impatiently nodded, making him chuckle darkly. He lined his dick at your entrance before slowly pushing in. You felt the air knock out your lungs and gripped him tightly on his arms. He moaned at your tightness. Your whimpers and sniffles made him want to go right at it and fuck you hard.

“Fuck, can I move now princess?” He hissed. You shut your eyes and slowly nodded. He started at a slow pace, watching your every expression to make sure you're not hurting anywhere. Once he sees your face turning from pain to pleasure he picked up his pace faster.

The sound of hard skin slapping heard in his room. You felt dizzy with pleasure with the way he pounded in your pussy, “Oh fuck.” You whimpered.

“Feel good princess?” He asked. You frantically nodded your head. He sighed feeling you clench around him.

“M’gonna cum Heeseung.” You panted out. Heeseung hummed and buried his face in your neck, the feeling making you ticklish. You felt your orgasm coming and scratched onto his back. You bit Heeseung neck feeling your orgasm hitting you. Heeseung let out a pained moan and came after you.

You both panted unevenly and hard. Heeseung slowly pulled out and fell right next to you. You stared up at the ceiling rethinking everything. You had sex with Lee Heeseung, the schools bad boy. The one who made you feel like you were worthless.

Your thoughts were cut off when you felt a strong arm wrap around you. You looked up at Heeseung and saw him also in thought. The silence was somewhat comforting while also heavy. Heeseung nuzzled against the top of your head and sighed.

You slowly felt your eyes get heavy feeling his warmth accompanying you into slumber.

Heeseung looked down when he suddenly heard little snores coming out of you. He stared at your lips and leaned down, giving them a soft peck. Besides, it was gonna be the last time he would feel them.

You woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, feeling disoriented. As you slowly sat up, you realized you were in an unfamiliar bed. Panic surged through you until you recognized the room – Heeseung's room. The events of last night hit you like a truck, but you distinctly remembered the heated moment that had led you here.

Looking around, you noticed Heeseung was nowhere in sight. Your heart pounded as you spotted a neatly folded note on the pillow beside you. With trembling hands, you picked it up and read:

Had to head to school early. See you there. - Heeseung.

You sighed, a mix of relief and frustration washing over you. Gathering your things, you quickly got ready and made your way to school, your mind racing with thoughts of what had transpired.

As you entered the school grounds, you spotted Heeseung almost immediately. He was leaning against a locker, surrounded by his usual group of friends, exuding his typical bad boy aura. His laughter echoed down the hallway, and you felt an inexplicable pang in your chest.

But what shocked you the most was the girl under his arms, giggling as she whispered something in his ear making him smile. You stood there watching the scene unfold. Your eyes met his for a fleeting moment. His expression shifted from amusement to something unreadable as he watched you.

Suddenly, the memories of last night came flooding back – the new side he shown you yesterday, the intimate moment you guys had together.

Feeling overwhelmed, you quickly looked away and walked past him, determined to ignore him. You could feel his gaze burning into your back, but you kept your head down, focusing on getting to your locker.

Throughout the day, you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung's eyes on you. Every time you glanced his way, he was watching, a mix of amusement and something else in his eyes. It was as if he was silently pleading for you to acknowledge him, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.

During lunch, you found a quiet corner in the library to gather your thoughts. The events of last night played over and over in your mind. Heeseung had been so different – so real. But now, in the harsh light of day, it was easier to retreat behind your walls and pretend it hadn't happened.

As the final bell rang, you gathered your things and headed out, hoping to avoid any further encounters. But as you stepped outside, you saw Heeseung waiting by the gate, his expression serious.

"Nerd," he called out, his voice coming out more firm than usual, "We need to talk."

You hesitated, torn between your instinct to flee and the curiosity gnawing at you. Finally, you took a deep breath and walked over to him, bracing yourself for whatever came next.

“what do you wanna talk about?” You questioned, knowing full well what he wanted to talk about. He knew you weren’t stupid.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t and that you would do it again if you could. To tell him that you feel something for him that you’ve never felt with anyone else, but reality came to you that he still has a girlfriend, and that your parents are getting married soon, "Yes," You replied, your voice trembling, "I regret it."

Heeseung's face fell, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair, "I figured," He muttered, "I agree... I just needed to know from your point of you. No hard feelings?”

You nodded your head, holding your tears in, “Agreed.”

After that conversation, you made a conscious effort to avoid him. It wasn't easy, especially when you saw him with his girlfriend, laughing and holding hands. Each time, it felt like a knife to your heart, but you kept your distance, knowing it was for the best.

Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but notice the change in Heeseung. He seemed more distant, more withdrawn. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a quiet facade that you couldn't ignore. He stopped speaking to you for once, walking right past you whenever you’d see him anywhere in the house. He wouldn’t add sarcastic comments towards your way anymore. He still went to parties and hang outs as usual, but he was a lot more aggressive than usual when he came home drunk.

Days turned into weeks, and you tried your best to avoid him. You buried yourself in your studies, hoping the memory would fade. But every time you saw Heeseung with his girlfriend, a pang of guilt and regret twisted in your chest.

Or when you would hang out with your mom and Mr. Lee it reminded you exactly why you’re there. Because they were getting married. How would they react when they would’ve found out there kids fucked each other? You didn’t wanna know.

It was like any other day with you reading in the living room. You were almost done with a chapter when you suddenly heard a knock at the door. You didn't think much of it until you heard voices—familiar voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the door revealing Heeseung's girlfriend, Karina, and his friends Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay.

"Hey, can we come in?" Jake asked, though it seemed more like a statement than a question. You nodded, stepping aside to let them in.

You heard footsteps coming downstairs and was greeted by Heeseung, “Baby!” Karina smiled and went to hug Heeseung. He hugged her back just as tightly.

“Hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming too.” Heeseung chuckled. Karina gave him a teasing smile in return.

“Well I haven’t seen you since yesterday so I decided to come over!” She chimed. Heeseung seemed to be ignoring you completely, his attention focused on his girlfriend.

You were cut off with your thoughts when Heeseungs friends all greeted you with a mix of politeness and indifference, but Sunghoon gave you a knowing smirk.

They made their way upstairs, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Heeseung didn't even glance your way, and you felt a pang of something—was it disappointment? You shook it off, returning to the living room with your book.

A little while later, there was a knock on the wall. You looked up to see Sunghoon standing there, leaning casually against the wall like he did the last time at the party.

"Hey," He said, his voice smooth and friendly, "Got a minute?"

You didn’t like where this was going. You nodded, putting down your book, “What's up?"

"There's this party later tonight," Sunghoon began, stepping closer to the couch you were sitting at. "It's gonna be pretty cool. I was wondering if you'd like to come with us."

You blinked, taken aback. A party? You remembered the last time and gulped. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I don't know," you said finally, "Parties aren't really my thing, especially from last time.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "Come on, it'll be fun. You might even enjoy yourself."

You bit your lip, still uncertain, "I'll think about it.”

"Fair enough," Sunghoon said, giving you a nod, "Just let me know."

He left, and you were alone with your thoughts. A party? With Heeseung and his friends? It seemed like a bad idea, but a part of you was curious. What would it be like to step out of your comfort zone again, even just for one more night?

As the hours passed, you found yourself thinking more and more about Sunghoon's invitation. Finally, you made up your mind.

You rifled through your closet, looking for something to wear. You settled on an outfit that was a little out of the ordinary for you—something that made you feel confident and a bit daring.

When you were ready, you took a deep breath and headed downstairs. it seemed as if Sunghoon was waiting for you, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration when he saw you.

"Wow," He said, a grin spreading across his face, "You look amazing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thanks."

He offered you his arm, and you took it, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked out the door, you didn’t notice a certain someone watching the scene unfold in front him.

You decided to drive with Sunghoon since he insisted and made your way to the party.

The night was electric with the buzz of excitement as you stepped into the party, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves. You adjusted your glasses and smoothed down your dress, feeling slightly out of place among the throngs of people. Sunghoon was by your side, his easy smile putting you at ease.

"Come on, let's dance," He said, taking your hand and leading you to the dance floor. The music was loud, the bass thumping through your body as you moved to the rhythm. Sunghoon's presence was comforting, his laughter infectious as he twirled you around.

As you danced, you couldn't help but notice Heeseung across the room. He was leaning against the wall, his arm draped around Karina’s shoulder. His eyes, however, were fixed on you and Sunghoon. There was a dark intensity in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the fun you were having with Sunghoon.

But the more you danced, the more you felt Heeseung's eyes on you. It was unsettling, and you found yourself glancing his way more often than you intended. Karina seemed oblivious, chatting animatedly with her friends, but Heeseung's attention never wavered.

"Hey, you okay?" Sunghoon asked, noticing your distraction.

"Yeah, I'm fine," You lied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just a bit hot in here."

"Let's get some air," He suggested, leading you outside to the patio. The cool night air was a welcome relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

Sunghoon leaned against the railing, looking at you with concern, "You sure you're okay?"

You nodded, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn't stop thinking about Heeseung. The way he looked at you, the way he seemed to be watching your every move. It was driving you crazy.

Before you knew it, you found yourself leaning in and kissing Sunghoon. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, a desperate attempt to get Heeseung out of your mind. Sunghoon was surprised but didn't pull away, his lips soft and warm against yours.

But the kiss didn't have the desired effect. Instead of forgetting about Heeseung, you felt his gaze burning into you even more intensely. You pulled away from Sunghoon, feeling a mix of guilt and confusion.

"Sorry," you mumbled, not sure what else to say.

Sunghoon looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern, "It's okay. Are you sure you're alright?"

Before you could answer, you felt a strong hand grab your arm. You turned to see Heeseung, his expression dark and angry, “We need to talk," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you away from Sunghoon and into the house. You stumbled after him, your heart pounding in your chest. He led you upstairs to a quiet room, closing the door behind him.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," He said, stepping closer, “You and Sunghoon."

You looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze, "It's none of your business."

Heeseung grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, "It is my business," he said, his voice low and dangerous, “You think you can just kiss him and I'll be okay with it?"

You felt a surge of defiance. "Why do you care? You have a girlfriend."

Heeseung's grip tightened, his eyes flashing with anger, “You think I care about her? The only reason I'm with her is because I can't have you."

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Anger, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite identify, "Then why didn't you ever say anything?"

Heeseung let go of your chin, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "Because I'm an idiot. All these fucking feelings I’ve been feeling pisses me off. Were too different for each other. Which is why I also thought you'd never be interested in someone like me."

You took a step back, trying to process everything, "And now?"

Heeseung looked at you, his expression softening, "Now I can't stand the thought of you with someone else."

You felt your resolve melting, the anger and confusion giving way to something else. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Fuck it. "Then show me," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung didn't need any more encouragement. He closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a desperate intensity. You melted into the kiss, all the pent-up emotions finally finding release.

You moaned into the kiss, letting his tongue entering your mouth. You didn’t know how much you missed this when he finally lay you on the bed. He didn’t waste time stripping off his clothes, still leaving you cloth. Before he could take your clothes off you stop him, “Wait a minute.”

Heeseung frowned. Did you wanted to stop already? He didn’t have time to think before you suddenly got up and kneel down. Oh shit. Heeseung stared at you in shock.

“Are you, doing what I think you’re doing?” He said, unsure if you were actually gonna do it. You nodded and bit your lip. His hard dick leaking precum. You slowly grabbed it and stroked it slow. Heeseung threw his head back feeling you squeeze around the tip and went faster.

“Shit! Wait.” He muttered. You ignored him and put the just the tip in your mouth. You hummed finally being able to taste him. Heeseung let out a drawn moan feeling your hot wet tongue.

He grabbed your head and gently pushed your head deeper down. You obliged obediently and went back and forth. You felt his dick tense slightly, letting it rest on your tongue.

“Ah hell. Why are you so good at this?” He questioned. You took his dick out your mouth and stroked it.

“Google.” You simply said. Heeseung couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. You smiled and went back to sucking his dick. He soon felt his climax coming and made you deep throat him.

You gagged a little but recomposed yourself and let him use you. You moaned when you felt his hot spurts of cum going down your throat. You made sure you swallowed every last drop before letting go with a pop.

You got back up and kissed him. He sighed into the kiss and pushed you back on the bed. He helped you take off your clothes and kissed along your chest. You whimpered when you felt him suck on one of your breast while fondling with the other.

You grabbed his hand and lead it down to your wet pussy, he rubbed it in circular motion.

“Please Heeseung put it in now. I can’t wait.” You ranted. Heeseung chuckled and slowly lined his dick at your entrance. He rubbed his dick alongside your folds making you mewl.

He finally entered inside you making you both moan in unison. He didn’t wait a second to let you get used to his size and went full speed. You moaned uncontrollably, not being able to hold back. Heeseung kissed you to make you a bit quiet.

“You’re so tight princess. Fuck, gonna breed this pussy dry.” He moaned. You nodded your head, long gone to even cooperate what he was saying. He grabbed both your legs and pushed them against you shoulders, having better access to fuck your hole.

You let out a cry when he hit your spot and arched your back. Heeseung smirked, not stopping his brutal pace on you. You felt your orgasm coming and bit your finger to stop yourself from being loud. Your orgasm came out long and drawn while Heeseung watched you unfold.

He gave out a few more thrust before cumming deep inside you. You let out pants and watched Heeseung take out his dick. He got up from the bed to the restroom and came back with a wash cloth.

He wiped the both of you off and helped you get dress. As you guys finished you finally looked at him.

“Heeseung, what are we?” You finally asked. Heeseung stared at you before giving you a small smile.

“Whatever you want us to be.” He replied. You bit your lip uncertain. He still had a girlfriend.

“Your girlfriend. What about her-“

“I broke up with her. Right when I saw you and Sunghoon leave to the balcony I knew you were the one.” He admitted. You felt your heart swell up and smiled.

“Then I want us to be together then Hee.” You whispered. Heeseung nodded and cupped your face.

“Whatever you want princess.” He said before giving you a peck. You then went back downstairs to the party and walked towards the exit. Before you left you saw Sunghoon talking to one of his friends.

You both made brief eye contact, but what surprise you was when Sunghoon gave you a smile and wink. You quickly felt yourself smiling back at him and waving bye.

You went inside Heeseungs car and buckled your seatbelt. Heeseung started the car while having his other hand on yours. You didn’t know what you guys were gonna do when you get home, but you knew you will sort things out tomorrow.

For now, you’ll enjoy this moment with his comfort surrounding you. And the love that was finally growing that you guys held out for so long.

[honeybuckin10]

Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot

Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].  

Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.

a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3

Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.

“Back again so soon?”

You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.

“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”

He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.

“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”

He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.

You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.

Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.

“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”

You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.

“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”

Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.

“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”

He attempted to use his new voice.

“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.

“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.

“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.

“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”

Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”

Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.

“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.

“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.

“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”

Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.

“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.

You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.

“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”

What right did you have to comment on such things?

“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.

“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”

“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.

“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”

He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.

-

As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.

You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.

But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.

On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”

He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.

Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.

“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.

“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.

“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”

“Capricorn. 27. Single –“

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”

“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.

-

Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.  

“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.

“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.

“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.

“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”

“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.

“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.

“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.

The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.

He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.

“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”

“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”

“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.

“You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.  

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”

He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”

You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”

“Two or three.”

“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.

“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.

“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.

“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.

“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.

“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.

“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”

“What if I find a different doc?”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.

“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.

“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.

“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”

“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”

Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.

You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.

“Where the hell is my patient?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”

“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.  

“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”

“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.

“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”

“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”

-

By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.

“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.

“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”

“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”

Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.

“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”

“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.

“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.

“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.

“And?”

“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.

You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.  

The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.

It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.

“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.

But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.

“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”

“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.

“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”

He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.

 Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.

“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.

“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.

“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.

Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression.  Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.

“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.

“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”

[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[speaking-riddlish]

Thinking about how Riddlish is handled in cannon and in fics. I've seen people just put random things that happen to ryhm anytime they want someone to be speaking Riddlish and it's like, a minor pet peeve of mine? But every time we see Riddlish spoken in cannon, it kind of makes sense in a way? Like, if you think about what is said, and try to piece together any symbolism based on context, you can kind of understand what they're saying. Like Maddie said, "Riddlish is not an exact language". Putting together the metaphor and symbolism gives you the general idea of what they're getting across. And whenever a fic does this well, it's like an instant favorite.

Let's look at and dicect some cannon examples (I've always kind of found these facinating):

"Feathers and Friends, together alone!"

"Feathers" could refer to Raven, since she's named after a bird. She also has feathers fairly prominent in her character design, so it'd make sense for Giles to say this even though he doesn't know her name yet.

"and Friends" probably refers to Maddie, since she's known him for a while and is presumably his friend. It could also refer to their friendship, and maybe even be a way of including Raven in.

"together, alone" They're here with him, joining him in his solitude.

Putting it all together we get "Raven and Maddie, you're here! You came to visit me!" Which lines up pretty well with Maddie's translation of "he says it's nice to have us here!"

"Can a musical chair change its tone, when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?"

"Can a musical chair change it's tone" The music in musical chairs is integral to the game, yet the song played does not come from the chair, but from the people playing. The tone of a musical chair is something fundamental about itself, and also something imposed by something outside itself. Can it change? Can something change something about itself that someone else has decided is fundamental?

"When the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?" A tablet of granite inscribed with something is literally that thing being written in stone, another reference to destiny and inevitability. And what's written on that stone is a bone, is death. Death is what is written in stone. Death is supposedly inevitable here.

From Raven's tone and terrified body language when asking Maddie to translate for her, it's fairly clear that the thing that wants to change is referring to Raven.

Putting it all together we get "Can Raven change from what others have said she's supposed to be, or is death the inevitable consequence of that like we've been told it is?" Which lines up pretty well with what Maddie was asked to translate: "What'll happen to me if I don't sign the book, am I really gonna disapear?"

"The king that sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies"

"pages of sky" is in reference to the book, and maybe the fairytales themselves. The sky is often used to symbolically reference heaven and the divine. The book, determining people's destinies, fits fairly well into that category. It's almost like he's referring to the book as being from above.

"The king that sings with pages of sky" would then be Headmaster Grim. He's in a position of authority over the students like a king is to his subjects. He "sings with" the book/the stories with his constant insistence that people must sign the book and follow their stories, speaking in unison with them.

"fears too much" this part is fairly clear, Milton's paranoid. The consequences he thinks are inevitable aren't as inevitable as he claims.

"the dawn that rises with" would mean something like "the consequences of" or "the fallout from". Then there's one of two ways the rest could be. "lies" could refer to that which is contrary to what the stories say will happen. If you take the stories as "truth" then changing the stories would be "lies". Or, "rises with lies" could mean the consequences coming from Milton's lies being brought to light. The dawn rises as Milton's lies rise.

Yet the whole thing sounds rather foreboding, giving the impression that something is seriously wrong.

Bringing it all together, we either get "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's paranoid about what'll happen if you don't. But those fears are unfounded. Also something is very wrong." or "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's afraid of what will happen when people find out why you don't need to (and its emplied that that reason is something very bad)" This lines up fairly well with Maddie's translation of "There's something wrong with the book, and if you don't sign, your story will continue... I think". I like the touch that Maddie wasn't as confident in this translation, since the last phrase is more ambiguous. It's not really clear how the foreboding tone integrates into the message without more context than Maddie has, so Maddie doesn't really know what it means.

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers. But the cage holds both, to die and to wither."

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers." The baby bird and the snake are two very different creatures, they move and interact with the world in two totally different ways. Most people also would look more favorably on the baby bird than on the snake.

"but the cage holds both, to die and to wither." the cage doesn't care what is inside of it, it will indiscriminately hold them both captive. The things that make the baby bird different from the snake, and the adorable charms of the baby bird will not free the baby bird from the cage, nor will they protect the baby bird from the grisly fate that awaits it in the cage.

The context is also relevant, since she's talking to Alastair and Bunny, two of her subjects who have just been arrested, but also two of her daughter's friends.

Putting this all together we get "Yes, you enjoy privileges that others do not have, but my affection for you will not compromise my judgement. You are not above the law. I am not above punishing you like I would anynother citizen." While we don't have a cannon translation to compare this to, it seems to make sense. Its immediately followed up with her letting them off with a warning, and despite this interaction, Bunny later tells Lizzie that her mom really is a good queen, but that the curse has stressed her out. I think the Queen of Hearts probably made exploring illegal to protect people from the curse. If she really is a good queen, then this type of objectivity ("I don't care if you're my daughter's friends, crime is crime") would make total sense.

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.��� You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

[queenofvelaris]

Worthy

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word count: 9.7k (don’t look at me)

Contains: ANGST but with a happy ending, mentions of abuse, self-deprecation, Tony’s stupid quips, fight scenes (its age of ultron duh), tooth-rotting fluff, minor character deaths

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. Everyone except for the reader and her family belongs to Marvel.

Author’s Note: hiiii so I wrote this in 2021 when I was going through a really dark time. It brought me so much peace to write it and I figured it was time I share it with the world. Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated and I would love to hear your thoughts (such as if I should post more cause I got more 🫣) anyways I hope you like it!!

***

Worthy. What a ridiculous word. A hypocritical one, too. There are those who believe with everything they’ve got— even to the point of being prideful— that they’re worthy. Others hope that they are. And the rest feel, deep down inside, that they’ll never be worthy.

“I bet it’s a trick,” Clint commented, spinning drumsticks between his fingers. He was sat next to Maria, and on his other side, Bruce and Natasha were deep in conversation. Tony and Rhodey sat on the futon. Dr. Cho was asleep.

Thor chuckled and handed a newly opened beer bottle to Steve. (Y/N) was on the carpet, her back against Steve’s strong legs. Thor shook his head. “No, no. It is much more than that.”

“Whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power,” Clint mocked in a Shakespearean voice that made (Y/N) snort. “Whatever, man!”

Thor grinned and indicated his hammer, propped up on the coffee table. “Please, be my guest.”

Tony smirked at Clint. “Go ahead!”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “Really?” He leaped to his feet.

“Oh, this is gonna be beautiful,” Rhodey remarked.

Steve leaned down and whispered in (Y/N)’s ear. “Five bucks says he gives up after five seconds.”

“You’re on,” (Y/N) shot back. “I say ten seconds… gotta give the man a little credit.” She smiled to herself as Steve tickled her shoulder. If she were on the same level as him, she’d tickle him right back.

From the very beginning of the Avengers initiative, after that whole mess in 2012, Steve has always been the one (Y/N) was closest to, Clint being a very close second. It was an instant click. They loved the same movies, traded jokes and sarcastic comments, trained together, and even fell asleep next to each other on the couch on days off. Three years later, they are as close as ever.

Clint approached Mjölnir, a swagger in his step. Tony leaned forward in his seat. “Clint, you’ve had a tough week. We won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.”

Everyone chuckled at that and Clint ignored them, eyeing Thor. “You know I’ve seen this before, right?”

He reached for the handle and tugged, grunting as he did so. About five seconds later, he gave up, shaking his head. “I still don’t know how you do it!”

“Smell the silent judgment?” Tony jeered at Clint as (Y/N) grudgingly handed Steve five bucks.

Steve made it better with a flash of his perfect smile and a wink from his pretty blue eyes. Beaming, she rolled her eyes and focused on the petty ones in the room.

Clint held out his hand. “Stark, by all means.”

Tony shrugged and stood, earning a chorus of “Uh oh”, “Mmm-hmm”, “Oh here we go.” He practically strutted over to the hammer. “Never been one to shy away from an honest challenge.”

“Yeah, but how often do you win ‘em?” (Y/N) muttered and Steve laughed so hard he choked on his beer. Rhodey and a couple others went “ooo!”

Tony shot her a playful glare and looped his wrist through the loop on the top of the handle. “It’s physics.” He glanced at Thor. “Alright, so, uh, if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?”

Thor nodded benevolently. “Yes.”

Tony grasped the handle and put one foot on the table. “I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta.” He grunted and pulled, but the hammer didn’t move at all. He removed the loop and cleared his throat. “Be right back.”

He stormed away and came back not one minute later with an Iron Man glove from his latest model. “That’s cheating!” Maria called.

Tony put it on and grasped the handle. “And I’m Tony Stark.” He yanked on the handle, but the Asgardian weapon remained unmovable. He turned his hand and little turbines came out of the arm, acting like a rocket. Still, Mjölnir stayed still as a rock.

(Y/N) shook her head, grinning as Tony struggled with the hammer. “Give it a rest, pretty boy, you can’t lift it.”

“I can and will, sugar lips,” Tony retorted good-naturedly. He waved Rhodey over and the latter put on his own hand gear from War Machine. Watching them try and lift it together was hysterical and (Y/N) could barely breathe, she was laughing so hard.

Next up was Bruce, who climbed on the table and screamed when he couldn’t lift the hammer. Everyone stared at him in amusement and he flushed pink, embarrassed.

(Y/N) had her head on Steve’s knee when Maria tried and failed. The former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent turned to (Y/N). “Alright, you’re up.”

She lifted her head, chewing on her lip. “Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not doing it.”

Tony whined. “Come on! After Capsicle and Shakespeare in the Park, you’re the strongest one here!”

He wasn’t wrong. That’s another reason she and Steve were both so close-- they were the only enhanced beings in the tower. Her super strength and cat-like agility earned her the nickname of The Leopard, only she wasn’t experimented on. Her mom had been a chemist for S.H.I.E.L.D. when (Y/N) was young, and one day she came to work with her mom and there was an explosion that resulted from the leak of a new serum designed to replicate the one inside Steve. She and her mom both got struck. The result? She got powers and her mom was killed.

“I’m not lifting it, Stark,” she said firmly. She held his gaze. Normally, she’d sigh at the sight of those puppy dog eyes and grudgingly give into whatever task he wanted her to complete. But this… this was different.

Thor boomed, “It is not about strength, Stark. It is about worthiness.”

And I’m the least worthy person here, she said silently.

Steve petted her head for a second before patting her shoulder. “I’ll try.”

Grateful, she shuffled to the side to let him stand. She took his place on the couch next to Thor and watched as he rolled up the sleeves of his button-up. His blonde hair glowed in the light and his arm muscles flexed as he gripped onto the hammer.

Clenching his jaw, Steve tugged on the hammer… and it moved slightly. Thrilled, (Y/N) stole a glance at Thor’s face and nearly pissed herself. Thor looked so shocked. Stifling her laughter, she watched as Steve pulled on the handle once more before letting go, holding up his hands in surrender.

Thor audibly blew out a sigh of relief, a small smile returning to his face. (Y/N) shoved his arm. “Don’t worry, no one’s coming for your throne, Thunder.”

Steve chuckled at that and sat back down next to her. Everyone looked at Nat, who smiled and took a sip of her beer. “Oh, no, no, that’s not a question I need answered.”

Tony raised his bottle. “All deference to the man who wouldn’t be king, but it’s rigged.”

Clint clapped Tony on the shoulder. “You bet your ass.”

Maria piped up, “Steve, he said a bad language word.”

“Did you tell everyone about that?” Steve demanded, glaring at Tony as (Y/N) buried her face in his shoulder to smother her laughter. Steve wrapped his arm around her instead of pushing her away, and when she lifted her head, she had to look away from Natasha, whose smirking expression was directed right at her and Steve. Nat has caught them curled up together on the couch before, and each time (Y/N) has told her “Steve is my best friend.” Even though I want more.

Tony leaped to continue his previous train of thought. “The handle’s imprinted. Like a security code. ‘Whosoever is carrying Thor’s fingerprints’ is I think the literal translation.”

“Yes, that’s a, uh, very, very interesting theory,” Thor replied, standing with his Asgardian ale in one hand. “I have a simpler one.” He lifted the hammer with ease and flipped it, catching it gracefully. “You are all not worthy.”

(Y/N) shook her head with a small smile on her face, Steve and Clint laughed, Rhodey and Bruce scoffed, Tony groaned a “Come on!” and Maria and Natasha exchanged looks with the now awake Dr. Cho.

Suddenly, a loud feedback whine pierced the air and everyone reacted, some stiffening and the others covering their ears. Tony frowned and pulled out his transparent pad that controlled everything in the tower.

A voice that sent chills down (Y/N)’s spine came to their attention, as well as the clanking of metal. “Worrrrrrtttttthhhhyyyy.” A tattered, roughed-up-looking version of one of Tony’s suits lurched into the living room, leaking oil. It turned to face them. It flourished its hand, and when it spoke next, its voice was clearer, more masculine, and much more sinister. “No. How could you be worthy? You’re all killers.”

At that, (Y/N) stiffened as dread rooted deep down in her gut. Steve let go of her and stood, his stern eyes fixed on the robot. “Stark,” he challenged without looking at the billionaire.

“J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony called.

“I’m sorry, I was asleep.” The suit turned his head, the lights in his eyes flickering. “Or I was a dream.”

Tony tapped on the pad. “Reboot. We’ve got a buggy suit.”

The robot in front of them shielded his face. “There was this terrible noise, and I was tangled in… in…” he looked down at the wires and spare parts keeping the frame together. “...strings.”

(Y/N) and everyone else who had been sitting set down their drinks and stood, all of them tense. The suit flourished his hand again. “Had to kill the other guy… he was a good guy.”

“You killed someone?” Steve asked, serious and condescending.

Those words and his tone made (Y/N) feel a little sick, but she willed herself not to react and instead focused on the terrifying suit, which glanced at the floor. “Wasn’t my first call. But… in the real world, we’re faced with ugly choices.”

“Who sent you?” (Y/N) asked calmly.

The suit straightened up as the sound of a tape rewinding filled their ears. “I see a suit of armor around the world,” Tony’s voice came through.

Tony’s face paled. Bruce stared at him. “Ultron.”

(Y/N), Steve and Thor shot a bewildered look at Tony, while Natasha, Rhodey, and Clint all looked at Bruce for answers. Maria cocked her gun and Thor’s grip on his hammer tightened. (Y/N) clenched her fists and exchanged a look with Steve.

“In the flesh,” the suit answered. “Or, no, not yet. Not this… chrysalis. But I’m ready. I’m on a mission.”

Natasha tilted her head. “What mission?”

Ultron jutted his chin out, and if he had a real form, (Y/N) was sure he would be smiling. “Peace in our time.”

Three of Tony’s suits burst out of the wall, concrete and plaster raining down like hail. Almost everyone dove for cover. Steve flipped up the coffee table just in time for a suit to collide with it, sending both (Y/N) and Steve over the couch.

He immediately reached for her, his eyes wide. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She scrambled to her feet at the same time he did. She ducked as one of the suits flew straight over her head and watched Thor smack it with his hammer.

She hurried over to the bar, where Natasha and Bruce were hunkered down, the assassin using her gun. Maria was also firing her gun, Clint was nowhere to be seen, and Rhodey tumbled through the glass window onto the landing below.

Grabbing a long skewer, she leaped onto the back of a suit that was towering over a terrified Dr. Cho. (Y/N) tried to impale the skewer in between the helmet and neck, hoping to dismantle some of the wires, but it threw her off and into the grand piano with a great crash. The impact barely hurt her, but it certainly knocked the air out of her lungs. She tumbled onto her back, winded, and her eyes widened in fear when the suit faced her.

Unbeknownst to her, Ultron cocked its head and turned his attention toward her. “Interesting.”

Natasha and Bruce hurried up the stairs, Clint barely missed a shot from a suit, Tony hopped onto the back of another one, and the suit looming over (Y/N) got distracted by Maria.

Her heart in her throat, (Y/N) watched as Steve got slammed against the wall on the second landing. He fell to the ground hard, groaning. Thinking quickly, she twisted her head and saw his shield. It was heavy as all hell for everyone else, but for her, it was nothing.

“STEVE!” She yelled, gripping onto the shield.

Steve bolted to his feet and at the same time, (Y/N) threw it to him like a frisbee. Thor dismantled one suit, Tony took down the other, but the third remained. With a spin, Steve threw his shield and it tore the suit in half.

It was over as fast as it had started. It was quiet for a second, the only sound being everyone’s panting. (Y/N) rubbed her neck and gripped onto the wall for support.

Ultron shook his head. “That was dramatic. I’m sorry, I know you mean well, you just didn’t think it through.”

Steve took a few angry steps forward and (Y/N) stiffened. Ultron continued. “You want to protect the world but you don’t want it to change. How is humanity saved if it’s not allowed to... evolve?” He bent and picked up the destroyed head of one of the suits. “With these? These puppets.” Ultron threw down the head and surveyed the room. “There’s only one path to peace. The Avengers’ extinction.”

Thor grunted and threw Mjölnir. The hammer smashed Ultron into pieces against the wall before flying back to Thor’s hand.

The lights in Ultron’s head sparked and flickered. In a sing-songy, raspy voice, the suit murmured, “I had strings, but now I’m free… there are no strings on me…” Then, it flickered and died.

Everyone remained frozen for a second as the tower’s lights flickered. Some went out. Steve rushed over to (Y/N), his intense fury softening as he looked at her. He reached to inspect her neck. “You okay?”

She nodded, though she was far from it. Ultron’s words about them being killers and his creepy disappearance… it unsettled her. She had a feeling they hadn’t heard the last of him.

She was right. Down in Tony’s lab, they realized Ultron had taken all of the Iron Man suits, Loki’s staff, important files, and hard drives. He was in the internet now and was most likely downloading everything he could about each and every one of them. The thought of that robot looking into her file made (Y/N) feel sick. Only Nick Fury had access to her file, but it was clear that Ultron could bypass that.

They also learned that Ultron could access anything he wanted, like nuclear codes. They all figured out that J.A.R.V.I.S. was the person Ultron killed. Tony revealed that he created Ultron because of a vision the female Maximoff gave him when they seized the scepter. He saw what he called “The Endgame,” and he didn’t believe the Avengers would be enough to save the world. Steve assured him that even if they lost the war, they would do it together.

That night, when all was quiet in the tower and everyone was asleep, (Y/N) began to toss and turn. She couldn’t get Ultron out of her head. The monstrosity followed her into the depths of her nightmares and made her feel trapped. Images of him infiltrating her file terrified her to no end.

She sat up and ran a hand through her hair. It was no use. She needed water, or milk. She climbed out of bed and padded to the elevator. It took her to the kitchen.

She was a few footsteps away from the fridge when she heard it. “(Y/N).”

Ultron. She spun around, her fists out, but there was nothing there. Shocked, she lowered her fists. But then, she heard it again, much more sinister. “(Y/N).”

“What do you want from me?” She tried her best to keep her tone harsh.

“Do they know?” Ultron’s voice was quiet and menacing.

(Y/N) stood at attention. “Do they know what?”

Ultron chuckled darkly. (Y/N)’s eyes darted every which way, but she couldn’t see him, only hear him. “What I read in that file of yours… how many years has it been since the “accident”? Or should we call it what it really is?”

She felt her blood go cold. He wasn’t talking about 2012. He was talking about when she was seventeen. Her breathing got more shallow.

Ultron continued. “I’ll ask again… do… they… know?”

“Please.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper as her mouth dried up. Her hands began to shake.

“It’s the reason you’re not worthy to lift the God of Thunder’s mighty hammer.” The sarcasm in his voice made her heart beat faster. “You will never be worthy. How could you be? You’re a killer. Imagine how your closest friends would react. Just think of God’s righteous man seeing you for who you really are… ”

“No.” She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “No, no, no.”

His voice, his words… it didn’t stop. Monster… murderer…

The kitchen got darker and more confined, until (Y/N) felt like she was in a cage. The words got louder and louder until she screamed…

Drenched in sweat, (Y/N) jerked upright, panting. Her hands wildly felt around her. She was in bed. It had just been a dream.

But there was a truth to it that shook her to the core, a fear that she hoped and prayed would never come true.

A knock at her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. The intruder spoke up, their voice gentle. “(Y/N), it’s Nat. You okay?”

“Fine, Nat. Just a bad dream,” the girl lied. She fought to take deep breaths and slow her racing heart. “Sorry I woke you.”

She could tell Nat was hesitating so she forced more conviction into her voice. “Seriously, I’m okay. It’s not so bad tonight. Sorry again. Just… don’t mention it to anybody, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As the only girls in the Avengers, they shared this floor together. Unfortunately, nightmares were a common occurrence for (Y/N), and every time she accidentally woke up Natasha, guilt steadily consumed her. She never once let Natasha see her pain, her terror. No one could see. She was the “strong one”, the bold and cheeky (Y/N) that everyone knew and respected. Not the pathetic, shriveling mess that screamed herself awake in the middle of the night.

(Y/N) breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she heard Natasha’s footsteps recede. She was alone. Tears stung her eyes. Always alone.

She curled up in a ball and muffled her sobs, so as not to wake Natasha again.

***

It wasn’t long until they got a tip. Ultron had teamed up with Wanda Maximoff and her twin brother Pietro and were going to make a deal with an old weapons supplier of Tony’s. The rumor was that he had just come into a large stock of vibranium that Ultron wanted to get his hands on.

Pale yellow streams of light poked through the window when (Y/N) woke up. It was the morning of the raid. Silently, she climbed out of bed and suited up. She wore a dark blue leather coat that had leopard print on the inside-- courtesy of Stark. She also wore a blue leather top, black leather pants and boots, and her hair was done in a simple french braid down her back.

She crept into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, like normal. On a regular day, she’d wake up before dawn and go for a run with Steve. Sometimes they raced each other, sometimes they just walked and talked. But last night, she’d barely gotten any sleep, and she had a feeling Steve would skip the run, too.

After she sat at the bar with her mug, Steve walked in, fiddling with one of his gloves. He was in full Captain gear, and the sight of him made (Y/N)’s heart flutter. He always looked handsome, but his uniform and cropped golden hair along with his gorgeous face and eyes always made heat rush to her cheeks. He was just as handsome as he was good and kind. She definitely didn’t deserve him.

Steve wordlessly made his own cup and sat next to her. His thumbs traced the sides of his mug. “You look tired.”

“Thanks,” (Y/N) muttered. She rubbed her temples. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well since Ultron attacked.” Steve peered at her with his signature mom expression. “You’ve been having nightmares again, haven’t you?”

(Y/N) stiffened and met his gaze. “Nat told you?”

Steve shook his head. “Last night I couldn’t sleep so I went for a run in the stairwell. When I reached your floor I heard screaming so I went to check on you, but Nat came out and stopped me. She told me you were okay and to just leave it.”

(Y/N) was quiet for a second. She felt a little guilty for thinking Nat would betray her. Steve covered her hand with his. “You know you can talk to me, right? I may not have gone through what you and Clint did during 2012, but I’ve seen my fair share of horrors.”

“You haven’t done what I’ve done, Steve,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Before she joined the Avengers, (Y/N) worked closely with Clint and Natasha at S.H.I.E.L.D. She was the only enhanced agent, and everyone fought to keep that a secret. Then, Loki arrived. He turned his scepter on her and Clint, forcing them under the control of the mind stone. It was then that Loki came to notice (Y/N)’s strength and agility. He used her as his prized second in command and ruthless assassin. A lot of the human lives lost in Stuttgart, on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet, and during the Battle of New York were because of her.

Steve sighed. “(Y/N), what’s it gonna take for you to forgive yourself? You were under mind control.”

She shook her head. “So was Loki, but everyone blames him.” She interlaced her fingers with his. “Controlled or not, I have the blood of innocents on my hands.”

For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to tell him about the accident, to share the overwhelming amount of guilt of murdering innocent people in 2012. Would he still be here, holding her hand? Or would he hate her as much as she hated herself? No. She couldn’t tell him. Not till she was ready.

Steve said nothing, just kept holding her hand. He changed the subject, much to her relief. “Are your nightmares about Ultron?”

“Sometimes.” (Y/N) took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t wanna face that Maximoff girl. You heard what she did to Tony.” The thought of someone infiltrating her mind again made her want to throw up.

“I won’t let her near you,” Steve said firmly. He gently placed his index finger under her chin and turned her face toward his. “Do you hear me? I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart.”

She smiled softly, transfixed by his baby blue eyes. His gaze flicked to her lips, and for a split second, he leaned forward—

“Lady (Y/N), are there any Strawberry Pop-Tarts left in the cabinet?” Thor called, trudging into the kitchen in full Asgardian armor.

Looking away from Steve, (Y/N) couldn’t ignore the disappointment washing over her. “Should still be a box on the top shelf, Thunder.” She let go of Steve’s hand, but she didn’t see that he looked crestfallen at the missed opportunity, too.

An hour later, they were all assembled on the Quinjet and headed toward the African coast. Everyone was pretty solemn during the trek, the silence only being broken by Thor’s ramblings and Tony’s jokes. But even the God of Thunder and the sass master himself were more grim than normal.

As they snuck into the salvage yard and the hatch of the Quinjet opened, (Y/N) exchanged a look with Steve. He reached for her hand, squeezed it once, and let go. She didn’t need to hear him speak to know he was telling her he’s got her back.

They ran into the building, finding the discarded bodies of workers all along the floor. Tony in his Iron Man suit led the way, followed by (Y/N), Steve, Thor, Clint, and Natasha. Bruce hung back on the Quinjet-- they didn’t need The Big Guy just yet.

They all split up inside the salvage yard just as Ultron yelled, “Don’t compare me with Stark, he’s a sickness!” He had forged a new suit for himself. The robot was now about seven feet tall with red eyes and a shiny metal body. His back was turned to them.

“Aww, Junior,” Tony called, his voice filtered through the Iron Man helmet. “You’re gonna break your old man’s heart.” He landed down with a clunk on the metal bridge, facing his creation. Thor and Steve were behind him. Natasha and Clint were sneaking in from the sides, and (Y/N) was coming in from the back. Their goal was to box the enemy in.

Ultron turned to face them, flanked by Wanda and Pietro. (Y/N) allowed herself a brief moment of wariness before putting her game face on. She was armed with batons about the length of her arm, coincidentally made of vibranium.

“If I have to,” Ultron drawled, his voice powerful and menacing.

“No one has to break anything,” Thor warned.

Ultron and the Maximoffs approached until they were a few feet away from the three Avengers. “Clearly, you’ve never made an omelet.”

Tony tilted his head. “He beat me by one second.”

(Y/N) shook her head at his almost proud comment. She delicately ducked behind the door behind the Maximoffs and Ultron, peering out at them.

“Ah, so this is funny… Mr. Stark,” Pietro remarked, his Sokovian accent thick. “It’s, what… comfortable?” He glanced down at the missiles and other weapons. “Like old times?”

“This was never my life.” Tony sounded much more serious now.

Steve took a step forward, his eyes on the twins. “You two can still walk away from this.”

Wanda cocked her head. “Oh, we will.”

Steve didn’t back down. “I know you’ve suffered.” They’d heard about the twins losing their parents and nearly dying themselves in the process.

“Ah… Captain America.” Ultron gazed at Steve condescendingly. “God’s righteous man.”

At that, (Y/N) flinched. Ultron had called him that in her nightmare. However, when she saw Steve’s familiar haunted look appear, her fear turned into anger. She withdrew one of her staffs from its sheath.

“Pretending you could live without a war,” Ultron continued. “I can’t physically throw up in my mouth, but-”

“If you believe in peace, then let us keep it,” Thor cut him off.

Ultron took a step closer. “I think you’re confusing peace with quiet.”

Tony was over it. “Yuh-huh. What’s the vibranium for?”

“I’m glad you asked that because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan,” Ultron drawled.

Suddenly, he pulled his metal fist back and the energy sucked Tony forward. Ultron blasted him back against the wall and everyone sprung into action.

Tony and Ultron went head to head as suits-- clearly designed by Ultron-- came pouring out of a doorway. Pietro was a blur as he went around, trying to attack the Avengers. His sister was more successful and managed to blast Steve back.

(Y/N) launched out from the doorway and used her strength and one of her batons to knock the head of a suit clean off its body. She leaped over the railing and landed on the bottom floor. A small grin worked its way onto her face as two suits came down to meet her, tall and strong.

She swept the legs out from under one and started to attack the other, but it dodged her heavy blow. She was grabbed by it but twisted her body, ran along the side of a crate, and flipped up and over the suit, tearing its head off.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint took down a lot of the weapons dealer’s crew, who were shooting at both the suits and the Avengers. Steve forced Pietro to the ground a little ways away from (Y/N). His eyes flicked over to her, watching her battle Ultron’s minions. He’d been keeping his eye on her, and he was relieved and proud that she was holding her own. He smiled and went back to fighting.

Then Wanda struck.

It was Thor who went down first. A quick tendril of magic infiltrated his mind and turned his eyes red.

“Thor! Status!” Steve barked.

Nothing. He saw Thor falter and freeze in place on the second level as if he was frozen in time.

Immediately, he knew it was Wanda. He spun around, eyes wide and filled with worry. Before he could warn his girl, he was knocked backward by Pietro and witnessed his worst fear with a flick of Wanda’s wrist.

(Y/N) had no idea what was happening. She was easily taking down suit after suit, barely breaking a sweat. She heard static crackling in her earpiece but figured that was just a result of everyone’s efforts.

She was about to deliver a fatal blow to the largest of Ultron’s creations when it spoke. “Were you this talented of a fighter at seventeen, Agent (L/N)?”

(Y/N) froze in her tracks, her baton raised over her head. The suit climbed back onto its feet, its eerie eyes peering straight at her. When it spoke again, its voice bore a significant resemblance to that of Ultron’s. She felt like he was directly talking to her.

“That was your first kill.” It wasn’t a question… the suit knew. Ultron had examined her file.

(Y/N) swung at the suit, but her nerves made her sloppy. The suit grabbed her baton, locking her in place. “Did you enjoy your first kill as much as you enjoyed taking the lives you took in the Battle of New York?”

With a shriek, (Y/N) twisted her wrist and tore the baton free. She attacked the suit with both batons, her viciousness masking her vulnerable state of mind. When she’d backed the suit into a corner, she finally let up on her onslaught, panting. “I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t enjoy it then, and I didn’t enjoy it in 2012. I’m not a killer. I was under mind control.”

“Not the first time. You became a murderer of your own accord.” The suit stood again, looming over her.

“Stop it.” (Y/N) shook her head violently.

The suit took a step forward. “How did it feel, watching his life slip away? How did it feel, realizing that you took a life and it was all for nothing?”

(Y/N)’s hands tightened around her batons, trembling. “Stop it.”

The suit was relentless. “How did it feel to be completely and utterly alone?”

“I SAID STOP!” (Y/N) screamed and lunged, but she never reached the suit. A flash of red was all she saw and then the room shifted.

She stumbled and dropped her batons, trying to grasp onto a crate, but she grasped onto a railing instead. It didn’t feel metallic; it was sleek and smooth. She turned her head and realized she was gripping a wooden railing.

She looked up, expecting to see the metal landing and the rest of her friends in the midst of battle. Instead, she saw a carpeted staircase with walls on either side.

Instantly, she felt cold, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. She was back home, back in the memory that haunted her sleep without relief.

She could hear the thumps from where she stood, tears already springing to her eyes. “No. No,” she choked out and sprinted up the stairs.

Even though she already knew what she would find at the top of the stairs, she still screamed. There was her dad, hovering over her baby brother, beating him bloody. It was obvious that Bobby was having trouble breathing. He was practically lying in a pool of blood.

Dad hated both (Y/N) and Bobby, but once (Y/N) got her powers, he couldn’t take out his aggression on her like when her mom was alive. Instead, he turned his attention to Bobby.

“Stop, you’re gonna kill him!” (Y/N) screamed, echoing the words she spoke when she was seventeen.

“Stay out of this, freak!” Dad roared, giving her a snarl that looked like a dog baring its teeth.

As if on autopilot, (Y/N) gripped onto his shoulders and ripped him away from Bobby. Unlike how it happened all those years ago, she was forced to watch his stumble in slow motion. She stood with her jaw dropped as he tumbled down the stairs and straight into the wall, his head colliding with the plaster so hard that a loud crack split the air. Blood seeped out of the wound, and he lay perfectly still. He was dead.

(Y/N) stared at her hands in revulsion. But tears began to fall when she realized what would happen next.

She whirled around and knelt next to her baby brother, whose chest was heaving and shuddering. This. This was what she saw almost every night, the image that never seemed to escape her. “Hey, hey, Bobby, please. Please. Stay alive. Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me alone!”

Bobby’s innocent eyes met hers briefly before closing. His chest rose once more, but it did not fall. He, too, was still.

“NO!” (Y/N) screamed, scrabbling at his body.

Bobby’s body disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and (Y/N) covered her face with her hands as she cried. She was too late to save him. She tried, but in doing so she killed her dad. He was a menace, but she’d never wanted to hurt him. She never wanted to hurt anybody.

But the nightmare was far from over.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice spoke. However, instead of the normal softness and affection in his voice, this time his tone was laced with disapproval and disgust.

(Y/N) leaped to her feet and turned around, wiping her eyes. Steve stood there, his helmet off. Behind him was Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce. They all looked horrified and furious.

“You just killed your dad,” Bruce said in a hushed voice.

(Y/N)’s hands began to shake. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I-I just-”

“No, no, no, you don’t get to justify what we just saw,” Tony snapped, holding up his finger.

Tears burned (Y/N)’s eyes. “I was a kid. My powers weren’t under control yet! You have to believe me!”

Natasha and Clint looked disappointed. The former Red Room assassin shook her head in disbelief. “I was trained to become a killer. You became one on your own.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” (Y/N) couldn’t stop the stream of tears as they steadily dripped down her cheeks. “I was just trying to save my brother.”

“And how’d that work out for you?” Clint scoffed. “How many more dads did you kill in 2012? No wonder Loki chose you-- you’re wicked, just like him.”

(Y/N) couldn’t breathe. She clutched her ribs, desperately forcing air into her lungs. “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. Guys, please.” She looked at the people she saw as her siblings. “Clint? Nat?” They’d said they understood about 2012… but they were looking at her with pure venom.

One by one, her team turned their backs to her and walked away, disappearing into vapor. The only one who remained was Steve, whose head was lowered.

“Stevie?” (Y/N) tentatively approached him, reaching for his hand.

He ripped it away like she’d burned him and she recoiled. Steve fixed her with a cruel glare. “Now I know why you refused to pick up Thor’s hammer. You’re not worthy, and this is why.”

(Y/N) felt her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. “Steve-”

“I thought the world of you. I wanted the best for you. I wanted a future with you.” Steve’s voice was low and dark. “Now… I don’t want anything to do with you.”

A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it and she fell to her knees. “Stevie, please!” She grabbed his hand and he pulled it away, walking away from her.

“Stevie, please, come back!” (Y/N) begged and pleaded, but she received no response.

Convulsing with sobs, she curled up on the floor, crying her heart out. Her worst fears had just been realized. The Avengers hated her as much as she hated herself for what she did, and Steve, her Captain… he hated her, too.

“It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault,” she whispered brokenly, wishing she could turn back time and reverse everything. “It wasn’t my fault.”

And that’s how Steve, the real Steve, found her.

When his vision cleared, he hauled himself up. Clint gave him the status report that he took Wanda out of the running, at least temporarily, and the archer went to look for Natasha.

Steve’s mouth went dry. Where was his girl? He reached for his earpiece, ready to command her to tell him where she was, when he heard it. The sobs.

He ran faster than he ever had in his life. It took him only a second to find her, curled up on the floor and crying.

He fell to his knees beside her, tearing off his helmet and setting down his shield. “(Y/N)... hey, hey, hey.” His hands fidgeted, longing to touch her but afraid of how she’d react. “Sweetheart, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”

(Y/N) obeyed him, but her mind was still trapped in another world. Her eyes darted lazily around, the flow of tears never ending. She met his gaze and he flinched when he saw the raw brokenness in their depths. “It wasn’t my fault... it wasn’t my fault.”

Steve frowned and this time, he touched her. He ran his fingers through her hair, which had fallen out of its neat french braid. “What’s not your fault, sweetheart?”

“Please, you have to believe me,” she cried. “It wasn’t my fault, Stevie. You have to believe me. You have to believe me.”

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay. I believe you.” Steve’s tone was soft and gentle as he cooed to her, trying to calm her down. Frankly, he was freaked out, too, by her state and what he saw in his own vision. And he was angry. He’d been complacent. He promised her he would keep her safe, that he wouldn’t let Wanda infiltrate her mind. But he was careless, and now his girl was a wreck.

(Y/N) locked eyes with Steve, a bit of hope returning to her (e/c) depths. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve confirmed, forcing a smile.

Clint’s voice comes in on the earpiece. “All the tin men are down, but the Maximoffs are gone. So is Ultron. Tony said the Big Guy escaped and he’s fetching him. I think we need to head back to the jet. Tasha’s in bad shape.”

Steve pressed his own earpiece, looking down at the sweet girl who was crying silently next to him. “So is (Y/N). We’ll meet you at the jet.”

He placed his shield on his back and gathered (Y/N)’s weapons, placing them in his belt loops. He gently worked his arm into the crook of her knees and wrapped his other arm around her back. He stood, cradling her in his arms. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get outta here.”

She curled into him, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, she was still looking around blankly, like her mind was still adrift.

He carried her out of the warehouse, through the salvage yard, and onto the Quinjet. Natasha was slumped in a corner, pale and trembling. Thor looked tense and bewildered. Clint was unaffected vision-wise, but he was pacing the floor of the jet and scratching his head.

When Steve entered the jet, Clint turned and stiffened. “Oh, shit.”

Steve ignored his comment, clueing the archer into how worried Steve was. He followed closely as Steve sat down on one of the seats, arranging (Y/N) so she lay comfortably across the seats with her head in his lap.

“What did she see?” Clint asked quietly.

Steve shook his head, his eyes trained on (Y/N)’s face. His fingers gently combed through her hair, and his other hand traced light designs on her hand. “I don’t know. She wasn’t making much sense. She kept saying something wasn’t her fault. I’ve never seen her like this.”

Clint’s gaze was soft as he looked at her. “I was with her when Loki’s spell lifted. She barely spoke after.” He glanced at Steve. “Actually, it was you who got through to her. You got her to talk again. What Loki’s magic made her do… it damaged her. Being mind-controlled once is no joke, but twice?” He sighed. “Poor kid.” He stood and walked over to the pilot’s seat.

Steve’s heart was heavy, but at the same time filled with warmth. Had he really been the one to help (Y/N) come back to herself after 2012? As he gazed down at her, he decided it would be his job to bring her back this time, too.

So he kept stroking her hair, whispering to her. “(Y/N). Come back to me, sweetheart. It’s me, Stevie. If anyone can fight back against the power of that vision, it’s you. You’re strong, so strong. Stronger than all of us. I’m here. Your family’s all here. Just come back. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go. I promise. You’re safe with me.”

Though (Y/N) didn’t respond, her eyes flicked to meet his gaze and he could’ve sworn he saw a sparkle of recognition return to her eyes. Encouraged, Steve kept talking.

He lost himself in his quiet affirmations and gentle words to her, so much so that he didn’t notice Thor, Clint, and even Natasha watching. Thor and Clint smiled slightly, and Natasha, as shaken as she was, felt emotional watching the tender display. It was really obvious to everyone except Steve and (Y/N) that they had fallen for each other.

The three of them were so moved that when Tony and Bruce returned, Clint went out to meet them and warned them to keep their voices down and not make any comments-- with that bit being directed at Tony-- about what they were about to see.

All Tony said when they walked onto the jet and saw Steve with (Y/N) cradled on his lap was a grumbled, “Finally.”

***

They decided that it was too dangerous to return to the Tower. Ultron was everywhere, and after the whole Hulk incident they needed to lie low. Clint guided the jet toward a location he refused to tell the others about, and spoke quietly with Tony. They were the only two who hadn’t been hit with a vision at the salvage yard.

Thor was acting a little gruffer than normal, Natasha was quiet, and Bruce was weary, but the one they were really worried about was (Y/N). For the entirety of the Quinjet ride, her head rested on Steve’s thigh as she slowly came back to reality. It was Steve’s gentle touches and grounding words that eventually brought her back. But even then, she was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart,” Steve whispered. “Just keep your eyes on me. Don’t slip back into your head.”

She nodded once, her face lined with sadness and a hint of fear. It made Steve’s heart ache. He kept his blue eyes locked with her (e/c) ones. “Do you remember Clint and Natasha? They’re like your brother and sister. We’re your family. You’re safe with us.”

He kept having to repeat these statements in order to keep her present. He did so without complaint and with a heart full of affection and concern for his girl.

At the mention of Clint and Natasha, the fear grew on her face and Steve moved his hand from her hair to her face. He gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We all love you. I-” He swallowed. “… care about you so much, (Y/N). You’re safe with us, okay?”

“Okay, Stevie.” Her voice was small and quiet, reminding Steve of his mom after getting her ass handed to her by his dad. He hated it, and wanted nothing more for (Y/N)’s smile to return. So, he kept forcing a smile for her sake and continued anchoring her with his words and touches.

After a few hours, Clint landed the jet next to a farmhouse. Steve stood and held out his hands to (Y/N). “Can you stand for me, pretty girl?”

She nodded shakily and stood, taking his hands. He wrapped his arm around her protectively. The other Avengers watched with a mixture of worry and awe on their faces.

He and (Y/N) trailed behind as Clint helped Natasha walk and led Bruce, Tony, and Thor inside the house. When Clint’s pregnant wife appeared, who the Avengers had no idea about (except for Natasha), they all were stunned. Laura and Natasha caught up and Clint introduced them all to his kids and explained why he kept their location a secret.

(Y/N) tried to smile and hesitantly shook Laura’s hand. The yelling of the kids and the chatter of the others made her tense up. Steve rubbed her arms and made eye-contact with Clint.

Having seen (Y/N) go through something like this once before, Clint strode over to them and kept his voice low. “Tasha’s gonna sleep with Laura. Me, Tony, Thor, and Bruce will sleep in the living room. You two can take the guest room.”

(Y/N) was too in her head to fully process what he said, but Steve’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to question why he and (Y/N) should share a room and protest that it wasn’t appropriate, but Clint rolled his eyes. “Just take the damn room. Go. You’ll thank me later.”

Wordlessly, Steve took (Y/N)’s hand and-- after hearing Clint’s directions-- guided her upstairs. He entered a small but quaint room and shut the door. (Y/N) silently sat on the bed, her eyes on her hands.

Steve exhaled deeply. He walked to her and crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. She met his gaze, her expression clouded. Steve squeezed her hands lightly. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What did you see? I want to help you.”

“You won’t once I tell you,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes.

Steve’s tone was gentle but firm. “Try me.”

(Y/N) took a shaky breath. “Did… did I ever tell you how young I was when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Steve frowned, concentrating. “You said you were seventeen. You were one of their youngest recruits.”

(Y/N)’s hands fidgeted in his grip. “Did I say why I joined?”

“You said you didn’t want to go to college, that you wanted to work there to honor your mother.” Steve sounded puzzled.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “That-that was-um… it wasn’t the whole truth.”

Steve looked at her encouragingly, and that just made it harder for (Y/N). She swallowed. “After I-uh… after I got my powers and my mom died, my dad… he became more violent. He was violent before, but losing Mom just… it just made him snap. He knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore, so he started taking it out on my baby brother. He was only twelve.”

“Go on.” Steve’s eyes were narrowed, but he made an effort to keep his voice soft.

The stinging tears made it difficult for her to see. “One-one day I heard my dad beating my brother, and when I found them, my brother was barely breathing. I yelled at my dad to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.” Tears trickled down her cheeks, one by one, and Steve let go of one of her hands to brush them away. “I eventually grabbed his shirt and shoved him away, but… but I-I shoved him toward the stairs.”

Steve closed his eyes and (Y/N) shook her head. “I couldn’t revive him. The fall killed him. I killed him.”

Steve’s eyes opened and he stared at her. “(Y/N), that was an accident. You didn’t kill him.”

“Stevie, I was too strong for him,” (Y/N) cried. “I should’ve-”

“Stop, stop, stop.” Steve cupped her face. “Sweetheart, you were a kid. Your powers weren’t under control yet. You didn’t mean to hurt your dad; you were just trying to save your brother.” And that monster doesn’t deserve your guilt and shame, he added silently.

(Y/N) sobbed once and Steve moved to sit next to her, pulling her onto his lap and encasing her in his arms. She cried into his shirt, staining it with her tears.

They sat like that for a minute, and he quietly shushed her and whispered words of reassurance. Once her sobs had died down, she pulled back a bit to look at him. “You… you believe me?”

“Of course I do.” His tone was matter-of-fact. Steve cupped her face again. “What happened to your brother?”

(Y/N) shuddered. “He broke a rib and it punctured his lung. I tried to give him CPR… but he was already gone. He’d lost too much blood.” The streams of tears continued to pour down her cheeks. “He was twelve, Stevie.”

Steve’s soul hurt for her, for that little boy he’d never gotten the chance to meet. He gently wiped her tears with his thumbs and kissed her forehead before pressing against it with his own. “I’m so sorry.”

(Y/N)’s small hands grasped onto his wrists as if they were her lifeline. “After that, I found Fury. He’s the only one who knows the whole story… other than you.” Her tone wobbled. “I asked him to lock me up. He gave me a job instead. He took a chance on me.”

Steve pulled her to him and his nose brushed her ear as (Y/N) continued to shake. “I’d managed to redeem myself in my mind. But then 2012 happened. When I realized what I’d done, what I’d been made to do… I was back in that house, with blood on my hands.” She gave a broken laugh. “It’s ironic, really. The girl with super-human strength and agility is weak in the head. She breaks everything she touches. She makes a fucking mess wherever she goes.”

“Stop, stop,” Steve pleaded, pulling back. “You’re strong, (Y/N). So strong. You’re stronger than me, that’s for damn sure, both mentally and in your heart. You don’t break everything you touch; you bring light to the darkest places. You gave a lost super-soldier a reason to smile again, inspired him to be the best hero he could be, which would never be half as good as you. When you make a mess, you own up to it. But you’ve never once willingly put someone in harm’s way. You’ve never once willingly allowed an innocent person to suffer. You love everyone around you with your whole heart.” Steve’s own eyes were brimming with tears now. “Everyone but yourself.”

(Y/N) stared at him. Steve took her hands in his and pressed kiss after kiss to her hands. “You’re a good person. It hurts me to hear you talk like you’re not.” He made eye-contact with her. “I have a feeling I know what you saw in that vision. You saw your dad and brother dying, right?”

“That’s… that’s not all.” Dare she speak the cursed words aloud? If she did… would that make it real? She covered her mouth briefly, looking anywhere but Steve. “You and the others hated me for what I did. You looked at me with pure disappointment. You-you told me… you told me that-that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

If it was even possible, Steve’s heart broke even further. “Oh, sweetheart.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, gently forcing her to look at him. A tear rolled down his cheek. “I could never hate you for what happened. Neither could the others. I’m sure if they found out, they’d all feel nothing but compassion for you. What happened? It wasn’t your fault. We’d never blame you. We all love you.” He moved his hand up to run the backs of his fingers against her cheekbone. She unconsciously leaned into his touch. Steve’s tone held sincerity when he said, “I love you.”

(Y/N)’s breath got caught in her throat. The flow of tears slowed, and Steve noticed. A small, watery smile tugged at his lips. “I love you, sweetheart. Have for a while now.” He shook his head. “And you don’t have to say it back—”

(Y/N) cut him off with a gentle whisper. “But I want to.” She wiped her cheeks and moved to cup his handsome face in her little hands. “I love you, Stevie.”

Steve gazed at her with softness and adoration. He leaned forward and kissed her chastely. The kiss was delicate, but for both of them it felt as if sparks were flying. When he pulled away, (Y/N) pouted and Steve laughed. He rubbed his nose against hers. “Trust me, sweetheart, when you’re feeling better, I’ll give you all the kisses you want. But I don’t wanna take advantage.”

(Y/N)’s heart fluttered. Whether it was because he was from the 40s, or because he was just a true gentleman, he was the most considerate man she’d ever met.

She scrubbed her face, stifling a yawn as she did so. Steve noticed. “I think someone’s tired. Lie down.”

She could hear a tiny bit of his Captain voice as he spoke, and that made her smile. She was exhausted, it was true. Barely sleeping for the past couple weeks on top of the emotional baggage of today was more than draining.

She climbed under the covers of the queen-sized bed, and before she could ask Steve to stay, he shuffled over to her. “Scoot over, big guy coming through.”

(Y/N) laughed softly and did as he asked. Pretty soon, her back was against his chest and his big arms were encircled around her. He sighed, content.

She felt herself falling asleep already, but curiosity nagged at her. “What did you see in your vision?”

Steve sighed again, but this time, she could practically hear the resignation in it. “I saw myself going back to the 40s and dancing with Peggy.”

A bolt of jealousy and unease struck her. “Why did Wanda show you that?”

Steve buried his face in her hair, lightly brushing his lips against her ear and making her shiver. “Because she wanted to show us all our biggest fear.”

The unease faded to confusion. “Why was dancing with Peggy your biggest fear?”

“Because she wasn’t you,” Steve said simply. She felt his embrace get a little tighter. “I still care deeply for Peggy, and I try to visit her as much as I can, but I stopped dreaming about a life where I had been with her once I realized my dreams were now about you. I stopped loving her the minute I fell in love with you. Dancing with her… it was a picture of the life I don’t want anymore. It was empty and lifeless because you were gone. You’re my best girl.”

Tears sprung to (Y/N)’s eyes once more. He seemed to sense this and moved his lips from her ear to her temple. He kissed her hair and brushed his nose along her cheekbone. “Let’s go to sleep.”

(Y/N) nodded, and when she spoke she was half teasing, half serious. “Dream of me?”

Steve chuckled. “Always, pretty girl.”

They fell asleep minutes later, the super-soldier holding his girl securely to his chest. They didn’t hear the door open a crack, nor did they see Natasha peek her head in.

She smiled softly when she saw them and shut the door. She turned to face Tony, Clint, Thor, and Bruce, who all eagerly awaited the report.

“They fell asleep cuddling in the bed.” Natasha grinned at Clint. “They finally exchanged their “I love you”s.

Clint had a huge smile on his face, and he turned to Tony and held out his hand. Tony grumbled and handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “You rigged it by giving them the same room.”

“Hey, I did that so he could comfort her in private.” Clint smirked and pocketed the money. “Them finally admitting their feelings was just an added bonus.”

Bruce glanced at Tony. “So if Clint betted they’d admit their feelings, what did you bet?”

“That the Leopard and Capsicle would break the bed,” Tony muttered nonchalantly.

Natasha thumped him and Bruce facepalmed himself. Thor beamed. “No, no. The Captain is far too chivalrous for that. The courting ritual back in Asgard--”

“We can hear you guys,” Steve called, his tone a mixture of tiredness and amusement.

Natasha grabbed the boys and shoved them away from the door. She apologized to Steve and (Y/N) and walked away, muttering, “I swear, men are idiots.”

***

Thanks for reading!!!

[deansapplepie]

You couldn’t lose each other

Summary: You were pregnant, then you weren’t.

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of character death, mention of “putting someone down”, soft Merle, on purpose asshole Daryl, blood, hurt, mental instability, hurt, stubborn main characters, loss, grief, and maybe more. 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

A/N: I never experienced miscarriage and am writing everything based on my knowledge through series, movies, soap operas and books, so it may have inaccuracies. If you are sensible to any of those topics please don’t read, your mental health is more important!

It had started about a week ago, heavy dizziness and morning sickness (which didn’t happen exactly only in the morning). On top of that your period was late, which you tried to atribute to the sub nutrition all of you went through while on the road, but as soon as other symptoms started… you knew it was probably other thing.

You went on a run with Daryl to get more baby formula for Jude and just discreetly added a pregnancy test on your backpack, in a part you hoped Daryl wouldn’t look because he never did. As soon as you got to the prison and had some alone time you risked yourself going somewhere, no one would see you or find you, to pee on the damn thing and find the truth. The truth was… you knew it, you didn’t need a test, you were undoubtedly and very much pregnant.

One end of afternoon, Merle sat by your side and didn’t bother to tip toe around you. “When are ya gonna tell ‘im?”

“What?” He took you back with his question.

“When are ya telling my brother ya’re with his baby?” Your eyes widened at his question. “Daryl ain’t the only one with observation skills. Who ya think taught him everything? I saw the symptoms and the pregnancy test you hid on your pocket the other day.”

“Fuck you Dixons.”

“Ya already do it to one of us.” He sassy replied, you rolled your eyes as usually happened during your banters.

“Soon. I’m just waiting the whole governor thing end. He already has too much to worry about, he’ll freak out if I tell him now. He’ll probably put me on bubble of safety and not let me do anything.” You stated, Daryl could have the rough exterior but both of you knew how he was, how he cared about people. Also he had changed so much the last months, and it was for the better. “Don’t tell him, let me do it.”

“Al’ight.” He surprised you, you had learned how to deal with Merle, but he wasn’t the same asshole as before. Still an asshole though. “It’ll be good have a mini Dixon around. I’ll help to keep ya’ll safe.”

“I know, you can be a jerk sometimes but I know you care about your family.” You gave the older Dixon a small smile and squeezed his hand to reassure him. That had been one of the nicest things he ever told you and coming from Merle, that was a lot.

The governor had asked for Michonne to leave your group alone, you didn’t believe a word of it it, but Merle did or at least he had to try. That morning he disappeared with her and all of you knew what he was up to. Daryl went after them, you wanted to go too but of course he wouldn’t “allow” you.

Some time after, Michonne arrived, alone. You asked about Merle and Daryl, and she told everything that happened with Merle. He had set her free and went by himself. It wouldn’t end up well, you could feel it in your guts, and your feeling just confirmed to be true when Daryl arrived alone.

Everyone gathered around him to know what happened and he told you with teary eyes. The others left to give both of you some time.

“Daryl, I’m sorry.” You said, both of your hands cupping his face, he averted your eyes. “Hey, look at me.”

“Leave me alone…” he grumply answered trying to get out of your grasp.

“We’re together in this, huh? I’m here for you, we both cared about Merle.” He snorted.

“Ya cared about Merle? Ya never liked him!”

That wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t. He was hurt, he had to put his brother down, there wasn’t anyone else that could do it for him, even if there was… it had to be him. Somehow, in his abused mind, he thought it was all his fault. Merle died because he wanted to be a better person, he wanted to protect his little brother as much as he could in this fucked up world, and that was the way he found to do it. It was just a matter of time for you to do the same and it would be entirely his fault if you ended like Merle. You were the last thing he had from the old world. You were the only good thing he had, and if he had to push you away to keep you alive, that was what he was going to do, because he couldn’t afford living in a world without you.

“This isn’t true, Daryl. You’re hurting, I get it…” he cut your speaking before you could finish.

“Ya don’t. Ya never will!” He distanced himself when you tried to touch his arm. “We should break up.”

“What?!”

“Ya heard it.” He confirmed.

“Ok, when you’re not speaking no sense we can talk, I know you’re not ok, but there’s a limit of shit I can take.” You wouldn’t continue to insist on it if he was going to continue acting like that. You knew he was suffering, but so were you and he was being a prick.

“There ain’t gonna be another talk. I said what I said.” Those words left his mouth as if they were nothing, but each of them felt like a knife in his throat.

“Is it really the moment for you to dump me?” You knew he was emotionally unstable, no one make good decisions like this.

“Did I stutter?” The moment he threw the harsh words, he knew he had got what he wanted, the hurt in your eyes pained in his chest and this time he was sure he had lost you for good.

Since that day, you didn’t talk to him and he also ignored you. You asked Rick to not put you both working together anymore. You moved your things to Carol’s cell, now also your cell. Woodbury had fallen, now the survivors of the town had joined you at the prison.

Your little secret was still yours, or sort of… Carol was a mother. She went through all the shit you were going through, all of you saw Lori going through it. She knew it already, but didn’t tell you anything until one week after everything that happened.

She asked you, “aren’t you telling him?”

This time you didn’t even got surprised and already knew what she was talking about. “No.”

“And when it starts to show?”

“I’ll tell I just fucked someone and was too drunk to remember.” You stubbornly replied.

“You’re being childish, he deserves to know.” She was right, but you were tired and emotionally damaged already.

“ ‘cause he’s being a fucking kid too. I get it, he’s suffering, but he needs to stop hurting people every time he’s hurt. It’s time he grows up and man up.” You said arms crossed.

“You know his past better than I, I thought you from all the people would understand.” The older woman wisely said.

“Carol, I appreciate your concern, he’s your friend too, but you don’t understand.” You said, was it you? Was it the hormones? You couldn’t know. “Please, don’t tell him. It’s not your place to do it.”

“I won’t. You’re the one that should do it.” As soon as she answered, she left you alone.

One week later, or a little more, it seemed like Rick had forgotten his promise that he wouldn’t put you ti work with Daryl as he put both of you on fence duty to kill the walkers. Ok, there were more people with you, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself being watched and you knew the weight of his stare. You could feel it in your soul. Also, you couldn’t help yourself and from time to time look at him, because you would be a liar if you said you didn’t love him anymore or that you didn’t find him handsome and attractive, and what’s beautiful was made to look at.

It was middle of the morning, even though it was starting to get cold the sun was strong for whoever was working under it. You had sweat and few stains of blood from the walkers you had killed through the fence. You were feeling extra tired, you thought it was because pregnant women got more sleepy, so you didn’t think about it so much.

Some minutes after you felt a sharp pain on your lower stomach. Weird. ‘Please let it just be a stomachache or gases’, you thought.

You continued working then you felt the pain in the same place but sharper. ‘Please, don’t let it be anything with my baby’, you thought again.

You kept doing your job, this time more slowly as you felt the pain irradiating through your body, until you felt a stabbing pain in the same place and something hot going down your legs. You looked down and saw blood. “NO!”

You shouted and that called people’s attention Daryl’s specially. He looked at you and all he could see was blood. Did you hurt yourself with the weapon? Did the governor came back and wounded you? Did somehow a walker managed to bite you?

“Nooo-hooo-ooo.” You shouted cried throwing yourself to the ground.

In seconds he was kneeling by your side. “Hey, hey, look at me. What is it? What happened, doll?”

“I lost it.” You said, crying more at your realization. “I lost it.”

“What did ya lose, babe?” He asked, he thought you were delirious due to the blood loss. His hands around your face trying to make you look at him, trying to ground you. He was panicking, where were you hurt? Was he going to loose you anyway and he had spent the last weeks loosing his time with you?

You cried. “Our baby, I lost our baby.” You said between sobs.

It hit him like a punch on his stomach. You said your baby, a baby from both of you, a baby he didn’t know existed, a baby that… his abused mind played with him again. A baby that could be possibly gone because of him. “Stay with me, love. I’m taking care of you.” Who were you? Just you? You and the baby? Was there any chance this was a weird bleeding but the baby would still be ok? He didn’t know. He knew nothing about it.

He didn’t think twice, he took you in his arms and started running. “HERSHEL!” He yelled the doctor’s name again and again, until he found him and had you in the infirmary.

Before getting to the infirmary you had passed out, maybe it was the shock or it could also be the blood loss, you’d never know.

Hershel examined you. Daryl stayed all the time by your side, making questions to the doctor. Teary eyes while he explained everything. You were indeed pregnant, and yes, you had lost the baby. Daryl’s hopes were shattered at pieces, he cried. He the big rough man that didn’t like to show his emotions cried, it was Hershel. He was a friend. He was family after all.

After making sure nothing had stayed in your uterus, the old man had a talk with the younger one. Hershel made sure Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, at this point he already knew the archer well and knew he was guilting himself for it. He ensured it was something that could happen at this early stage, you were at the maximum 2 months pregnant according to the tissue your body expelled from you. That small tissue was what would be your baby. The feeding poor in nutrients could have harmed your body, it was pretty much a disorder in your uterus so that happened. There was no one to blame, besides the end of the world.

Some time had passed when you woke up, you were as much as clean as they could got you and you had warm feeling on your right hand. You looked to your side and you saw Daryl worried and guilty eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” You said. You remembered everything.

“Maybe.” He said, even if Hershel had already reassured him. “But it doesn’t make it less worse. I could have lived it with ya for the little time we had.”

“I was the one that didn’t tell you.” You turned to your side and extended your left arm till you were touching his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I AM sorry.” He said giving emphasis to that. “I… I dun know what I was thinking.”

“I know.” You knew he was lost at that moment, but it didn’t hurt you less when he pushed you away and both of you needed each other. “Merle wasn’t your fault. The baby neither.”

At the mention of Merle’s name and the baby, your voice quivered and the tears threatened to leave your eyes, and they did. They fell from your eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it. “I ain’t pushing ya away anymore. I… I was so afraid of losing ya too.” Tears also slipped on his face.

“Merle was happy, he knew he was going to be an uncle.” You remembered the conversation you had with him the day before he sacrificed himself. “He noticed it and asked me about it. I was going to tell you when the governor shit was over.”

You also felt guilty about Merle’s death. You knew sometimes he didn’t take some smart decisions, but did he tried to face it all alone because he also wanted to be a better person to his nephew or niece? He had told you he would protect all of you.

You sobbed. You both cried together, now your arms thrown around his neck and your face hiding in it. You both had lost too much already, you couldn’t afford losing anything else. You couldn’t lose each other.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @shadowcitrine @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke

[selfloverrrrrr]

Can I request yandere gojo x fem reader where the reader is a special grade sorcerer and satorus best friend since high school,

After suguru she is the only one who understands Satoru well and Satoru can show his true emotions to her but what she wasn't aware was Satoru likes her since many years now but kept to himself since he knows he loves suguru since high school and still loves him even after his death.

As days pass by he was getting more and more annoyed at her to not get the hints that he likes her and when he had enough and confessed his feeling for her she rejected him.

And after that day he came back from a mission wounded and went to her saying it was her fault and started to manipulate and forced her to heal him, (since if she uses her healing technique to heal someone else other then herself it damage her own health, and because of that she was not physically strong) and with that after many times healing him her health was not so good which made her weak,

Not wanting to wait for her Satoru noncon her and force her to get pregnant since it will tie her to him.

And even if she tells the higher uppers about this they won't do anything and rather will be happy that two powerful clans members r having childen.

I'll have you

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I'm a old student of jujutsu high. I graduated from that school ten years ago. I'm still connected with the jujutsu high like some of my other friends. But life changed a lot...a lot means...A LOTTTT!!!

Everything changed after Suguru's death. After his death I was the only one who understands Satoru. And Satoru also showed his true emotions to me. Even after Geto's death Gojo put on a fake smile to everyone but always tells me how much it hurts him and how much he feels pain.

And I always gave him mental support. but what I wasn't aware of was Satoru likes me since many years now but kept to himself since he knows I'm in love with suguru since high school and I still love him even after his death.

As days pass by he was getting more and more annoyed at me just for not getting the hints that he likes me! One day when he had enough and came to me and confessed his feeling for me. "Look Gojo I really respect your feelings...but you know I loved Geto...and I still do" I said. "Yes but one day you will move on...right??" He asked got too much excited. "Okey...I guess I'll think about it that time...okey?" I replied with a smile. I rejected him. He started deep into my eyes and didn't say anything then he left.

One day Gojo came back from a mission wounded. He knocked on my door. When I opened the door I saw Gojo. He was wounded. "OML .... What happened?? Come inside" I said and locked the door after he came inside.

He fell on the floor after coming inside. I sat infront of him "Gojo are you gonna tell me what happened???" I asked. "I was on a mission" he replied looking at his wounds. "Haven't you infinity on??? Then how did it happened?!" I said. "I have to turn off infinity sometimes!!!!" He said in a annoyed tone. But that was an weird answer.

"Ain't you gonna heal me?" He asked. Yes healing technique.... I have a powerfull healing technique but whenever I use my healing technique to heal someone else other then myself it damages my own health. But I can feel some how he was angry on me so I didn't say no...cause I was kinda scared of his reaction.

And with that after many times healing him....now my health was not so good for which I was becoming so much weak. I fell on the floor. My body was too weak right now. When I looked at Gojo instead of seeing him worried I saw him smirking at me. He took me in the bridal style. But I felt one of his hand under my dress. And after a moment I saw him put me down on my bed.

I felt him caressing my inner thigh. "Look y/n....if you know that you are weak you shouldn't take the hard way with the strong one" he said smirking at me. "W-what you saying?" I asked feeling weak. "I'm saying you should've accepted me when I gave you the proposal and not going for the hard way" he said. Was he...?? no no no...that can't be...

Before I could react he pressed his lips on mine. His kiss was so rough. He started undressing me. I tried to push him away but he was too strong and my body was betraying me.

He grabbed my boob and started squeezing it and I moaned in the kiss. Hearing my moan Gojo stopped the kiss and crashed his mouth on my breast. I moaned out loudly. He started sucking on my breast roughly. The more I moan the more roughly he sucks and  squeeze on my breasts."g-gojo please stop... I'm begging you please stop... you can't force like that " I begged. "I don't care about what you gonna say... you will be mine!!!...no one can stop me. I'm not sceared of anyone. You know I'm the strongest." He replied with a smirk.

After a while he let go off my breast. I was breathing heavily. He started undressing himself. He took off his shirt and pant. He was now only wearing his boxers. I can see the outline of his bulge through his boxers and there was a wet spot where the tip of his dick touched his boxer. Fear grabbed me by my neck.

His hand reached for my pantie and he ripped it off. He looked at my pussy hungrily. He parted my pussy lips with his fingers and crashed his mouth on it, sucking on it roughly. I moaned so loudly. I tried to push him away by pulling his hair but nothing nothing nothing. He just continued his work. He pulled back and lined himself with me."please please please no no no" I cried. "Shhh....this is the main fun part" he whispered and slammed his whole length in one slide without any warning."Gojo!!!!" I scremed and grabbed his back."oh my fucking god god god god god god......ahhhhhhhhhhh" he moaned out feeling my warm wet walls around him.

His thurst became harder and harder. I was an moaning and crying mess."you are so fucking...ahhh .... tight" he moaned out. With a few more thurst I came. dig my nails on his back. Feeling my warm wall clenching around him he came within a minute. "Now bring my babies and be mine forever" he said before pulling out. Then fell beside me....

"I'm gonna tell this to the higher ups" I said before I fainted. He cackled. "Y/n you are too innocent...do you think those old shits gonna do anything when the big two clans are having children together?" He said in a seductive tone.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[gnome-adjacent-vagabond]

Psst hey *pulls you closer* Canon middle-aged queer relationships and multiple canon queer/queer-coded characters. *lets you go* Go watch Venture Bros.

There are WAY more than these but I can't put em all up here because queer coding is up to interpretation. I say that everyone in Venture Bros is queer until proven straight but that's just me.

I wrote a whole-ass essay and then accidentally deleted it so the wording on this will probably be off, but it feels important so I'm gonna try be succinct.

Minor spoilers ahead! Skip paragraph three if you don't want those, then resume on paragraph four.

Full disclosure, this is a show that started in the early 2000s and has a LOT of issues in the first few seasons as well as a couple in the later seasons. There are transphobic and homophobic jokes, ableism, racism, and sexism. Sergeant Hatred is a walking trigger warning for about three seasons straight. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway: DON'T watch this show if you have multiple triggers or are easily offended.

Having said that, these writers realized the problems with what they were writing and have worked to remedy those issues through commentary, retconning, and public acknowledgement of the early seasons' failings. Their opinions evolve and so does the show.

Shore Leave is a flamboyantly gay man who was initially intended to be a one-off joke about the G.I. Joe series and the Village People. Instead he has morphed into a three-dimensional character who presents comfortably as both masculine and feminine. He's in a loving relationship with another gay man, Al, who is flamboyant but tends to be a little less flashy. Steve Summers and Sasquatch have been a happy couple for years now--and all because the epitome of toxic masculinity, Brock Samson, helps them find a quiet cabin away from the government hunting them. Brock's mentor, Hunter Gathers, is a canonically detransitioned trans woman who struggles with her identity throughout the show (I'm still waiting for her to retransition despite the show's cancellation). Hank is perfectly at ease in a hyperfeminine strength suit, and Dean also goes through identity struggles that are never played for laughs and are heavily if not explicitly queer-coded. Vendata's queerness is understated and exists simply as a fact rather than being joked about. Sky Pilot is similar, though slightly more in Shore Leave's camp in terms of presentation. Sheila and the Monarch are self-proclaimed swingers and could be read to be in a poly relationship with Gary, their henchman. Debbie St. Simone has a rather homoerotic obsession with Sheila and is almost definitely bisexual.

The Venture Bros universe is full of queer rep, and the creators of the show write it in with intention. Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick talk about wanting it to be treated as fact rather than completely defining each of their characters--they talk about how few women are in the show and why (Johnny Quest and G.I. Joe, the inspirations for Venture Bros, are heavily malecentric and there's constant homoeroticism in them for that reason). They acknowledge the flaws and work to improve themselves and their writing. This has culminated in a surprisingly moving series about love, death, grief, trauma, and change that radiates queer subtext from any angle--especially Dean's journey.

Try the show at least up to season 4. The first three seasons are on Netflix and the rest are on Adult Swim. If you still don't like it, that's fine. Thank you for trying! Just know that it's out there and that it's an example of how human beings can change and become better people. Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick aren't perfect and neither is the Venture Bros, but for what it is it's a damn fun (shockingly so) show.

[lucienne-thee-librarian]

I want to see Donna Preston absolutely shatter my heart with that speech about the first incarnation of Despair.

"they should change the ending of the sandman its tragic and has weird morals and wouldnt please the general show watching audience" ok but i want to see kirby howell-baptiste in a red dress as death of the endless. so.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 61

part 1 | part 60 | ao3

cw: mentions of canonical minor character death

Chapter 14

It's twilight by the time they make their way to Rick's place — gnat clouds swarming, sun dipped low, Lover's Lake an inky smudge beyond the blur of passing pines. Steve’s not totally sure how they got here, this dusty service road that's more pothole than pavement; one minute he's bitching about doomed love and double VHS, the next he’s taking the scenic route to a drug den.

There were some important moments in between, he’s pretty sure.

He’s also pretty sure he blacked out somewhere around the moment the morning news reported that an-unidentified-Hawkins-student-who-very-well-could-be-Eddie-Munson was found dead in his fucking trailer.

Kinda difficult to resurface from that one.

Feels like his soul’s got swimmer’s ear.

Even hours later — after Dustin and Max burst into Family Video talking a mile a minute about how Eddie was alive and they needed to use the phones; after Ernie stupidly gave a reporter Steve’s name, swearing up and down on the TV that his neighbor Steve Harrington was an upstanding young man who would never do something like this; after they spent an agonizingly long afternoon lying low and taking backroads to avoid the cops because the cops probably suspect Steve of murder now, oh god—

“It’s this next right up ahead,” Max says from the back seat. There's a map spread over the bench between her and Dustin, and Steve blinks himself awake; gives her a nod in the rearview.

Beside her, Dustin’s munching on Twizzlers he stole from the store — window down, easy slouch, just way too chipper for the situation at hand. "So Steve," he says conversationally, "now that you're a fugitive, does that mean—?"

Steve cuts Robin a pleading look.

Robin reaches back and smacks the little twerp upside the head.

"Ow!" Dustin whines.

"Shut up, please," Robin smiles.

Max makes a sound like she's trying not to laugh and checks the map again. "Right here," she says, pointing. "After that weird tree stump."

They turn onto another road that could be generously described as paved, once, several decades ago, and eventually, the winding path lets out onto a slightly nicer street. Aging but cared for, Holland Road is a crowded row of little lake houses, trailers and shacks with manicured shrubs and chipped fence paint, weeds growing through the sidewalks beneath pristine American flags. Steve pulls into the driveway of #2121.

It looks abandoned. Dark inside and out, a truck parked on the curb that's likely been there for a while, its tires sagging in a mulch of old wet leaves. There’s an autumn wreath on the front door.

“You sure this is the place?” he asks as they climb out of the car.

Max sasses him for questioning her navigation skills, Dustin unsuccessfully tries to land a revenge slap on Robin — a move that earns him a retaliation wedgie and a wrestling match he was never gonna win — and Steve pops the trunk and feels a hundred years old. Feels every bit the exhausted dad trying to keep the family road trip together as he grabs his nail bat and slings his duffel over his shoulder.

"You planning to spend the night?" Dustin teases from Robin's armpit, still bent double where she's got him in a headlock.

"No, just-" he drops the bag at their feet with a grunt, “doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

Dustin’s eyes bug out. “Is that a can of goddamn bear mace?”

“Keep your voice down!” Steve hisses.

“You keep your voice down!”

"Should I just go ahead and choke him out?" Robin offers.

Steve considers it for a second: knock 'em all out, stuff 'em back inside the car. Go do this shit quietly by himself.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips.

"You're no fun," she pouts, but she lets Dustin go.

Dustin grabs flashlights and walkies out of the bag, passes them around the circle. They take a moment to steel themselves — huddled together in the dark, shoulders tense, the creepy house looming ahead. Sharp shadows stretch toward them. Croaking sounds creeping from the edges of the lake.

Robin puts her flashlight under her chin like she's about to tell a scary story. "Alright, kiddos," she says in a deep, ominous voice. "Let's go rescue Steve's ex."

Stunned silence in the sudden vacuum her words create. Steve lets out a tired sigh. Dustin’s jaw is on the curb.

“His WHAT?” Dustin shouts.

Oh, my god. “He’s not my ex."

Robin rolls her eyes and says ‘sure’ under her breath, and Max turns to Dustin, laughing. “You didn’t know they were a thing?”

“We’re not—” Steve tries again.

“What were you trying to get them back together for then?”

She seems genuinely curious. Dustin seems three seconds from spontaneous combustion. “What was I WHAT?!” he yelps, limbs everywhere. Reminds Steve of Eddie so bad it hurts.

“Okay,” Steve interrupts, clapping them both on the shoulder; drops his voice to a harsh whisper. “In case you two forgot, we’re here to rescue Eddie.”

“Who you’re dating.”

Dustin’s voice is small, disconnected, his gaze far away. Like he’s shellshocked.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I— Yes. No. It’s complicated.”

Max snorts at his answer, Dustin makes a series of faces like he's gonna need seven years to process, and Robin interrupts his crisis by waving her flashlight like a traffic guard, walking backward up the hill as she directs them toward the house.

“Why don’t we just go find him first?” she suggests, making a rainbow with her hands, flinging light through the grimy windows. “And then Stevie here can answer alllll your big gay questions.”

Steve glares at Robin. Dustin glares at him, narrowed eyes for a full ten seconds like 'yeah, you fucking better,' and then he takes off up the driveway hollering Eddie's name.

—

part 62

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[pedrointofolklore]

This is me trying

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel hated you. he hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. he hated how much he worried about you. click here for part two.

warnings: detailed depictions of depression, heavily implied suicidal ideation, slight violence, angst with a sprinkle of fluff, no explicit smut but it does get very suggestive (minors do not interact), minor character death, enemies to lovers, poor communication, misunderstandings, these fools don’t know how to act, joel is an asshole but then he’s sweet, brief mention of drug use, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, boston era/ellie era.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hey y’all. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my last story rosebud (here’s a link if you want to read it). this story is a lot different and a lot sadder. i got the title from my favourite pop girlie taylor alison swift.

Joel hated you. It had to be his worst kept secret.

You hadn’t done anything to him. You used to think about it constantly, desperate to know what his reason was for despising you like he did, but you eventually accepted that he didn’t need a reason. He just didn’t like you. 

Joel wasn’t particularly likeable himself. He was rude and intimidating and one of the most morally bankrupt people you’d ever met, but you didn’t hate him the way he hated you. You were Tess’s lackey—Joel tolerated you, and you supposed he wasn’t obligated to do any more than that. Although, he didn’t do it very well.

You’d existed in each other’s orbit in the QZ for a while, and finally met one night in the boarded-up old mall when you’d gotten to a stash of painkillers just before them. Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you between the eyes if Tess hadn’t been there.

Tess saw something in you—not a friend, not a life worth sparing by virtue of humanity; a business investment.

And it was a smart investment. You were young, agile and clever, incredible at slipping by unnoticed and gathering information. You knew all the best routes, the best times to take them, and you could swindle anyone out of their rations just by batting your eyelashes. You were willing to take the lead, to be the first one in and out to make sure the coast was clear.

It wasn’t the threat of death or the promise of mercy that made you join them—it was the sense of purpose it gave you.

Joel was adamantly against it. Things worked fine the way they did them, and he saw no reason to add another person into it.

“Don’t need to fix something that ain’t broken,” was how he’d put it.

You didn’t dispute that. Joel and Tess had survived for years, and they were clearly more than capable of getting the job done, but what you lacked in experience, you made up for in stealth and speed—something their aging knees struggled with.

Tess convinced Joel, which you soon found out she was very good at. You also found out that his compliance didn’t mean hiding his resentment.

He thought you were a careless, impulsive loose cannon, and he’d told you so after a particularly dicey deal with a particularly dicey FEDRA agent.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” He followed you into your apartment uninvited. Tess made him walk you home, and you were sure he only did it because he wanted to berate you.

“Why do you care?” you asked, tossing your keys onto the counter. They slid off and hit the floor.

“You’re with us,” Joel replied. “You'll get us killed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes—you knew that infuriated him. “Am I on crack or have you not doubled your profits since I showed up?”

“I think you’re dangerous,” Joel said, ignoring you. “Always sneakin’ around, goin’ places you shouldn’t, playin’ mind games with FEDRA. Your luck’s gonna run out sooner or later, and I just hope I’m not around when it does.”

Your face burned with red-hot anger as you tried to fight the stinging in your eyes and the blurring of your vision, but you were too far gone. The tears fell, and they were ceaseless. You felt pathetic, but you knew this would happen. You didn’t often cry from sadness or pain, but anger always managed to bring it out in you.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?” you hissed. “You’re saying you don’t sneak around? You’ve never scammed anyone? You’re a smuggler, Joel! Be fucking real with me.”

“It’s different,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Why, because you’re older? Because you have more experience?”

“‘Cause I don’t think I’m fuckin’ special.”

If his words were the dagger, the pure contempt in his tone was what plunged it into your stomach, twisted it, and left a gaping hole for all of your despair to come pouring out of, leaving behind a puddle of melancholia for him to gaze at in all its miserable glory.

It was the only time you might have hated Joel as much as he hated you. Working with him and Tess wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had, and now he’d managed to make it all meaningless. Your help wasn’t helping.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat.

You should have quit then, and you thought about it. After pounding your fists into Joel’s chest and screaming at him to get the fuck out of your apartment, you sunk down onto the floor and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears and were left with a nothing but a throbbing headache. You took a pill, passed out, and woke up to you discover that you’d lost the energy to really care about any of it.

You didn’t quit. If anything, you became even more audacious, but you never confused it with courage or bravery. Bravery was perseverance in the face of terror. Joel and Tess were brave. You weren’t like them.

Joel laid off after that. He wasn’t anything close to nice, but whatever animosity he held towards you was only ever expressed as quiet seething, and you could live with that.

Any fulfilment you got out of working with Joel and Tess dissolved, but for what it was, it still worked.

Until it didn’t.

Tess was dead. The buffer between you and Joel was gone, and you had no choice but to work together and get the immune girl to Wyoming.

You wondered if there was a silver-lining in this wreckage. You thought that circumstance might force Joel to finally get along with you, and so you did the one thing you never did—you tried. You tried to help him, tried to speak to him like he was someone you actually wanted to speak to, tried to rein in some of your more annoying traits so you wouldn’t get on his nerves.

None of it worked. All you could get out of Joel seemed to be irritated mumbles and blank stares, and you couldn’t even blame him after what happened to Tess.

You never really knew if Tess actually gave a shit about you, or if she only ever cared about having an extra pair of hands around. Either way, you cared about her.

So, once again, you tried. When Joel and Ellie were sleeping—or at least pretending to—you walked down to the stream and tried to cry for her, but you couldn’t muster the tears. You even tried to get angry, mentally cuss her out for leaving you behind, but your eyes were dry.

You stared into the water, gazing at the way it sparkled in the starlight, and thought that the world didn’t deserve such a pretty sight. You couldn’t cry, but a deep sadness overtook you, weighing you down like lead.

Joel didn’t hate you.

He just hated how impulsive and reckless you were. He hated that you were smart, intuitive, and so maddeningly beautiful. He hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. He hated how much he worried about you.

There was a time he had disliked you. He used to think it was arrogance—that you truly believed you were so special that you could get away with anything. It was when he called you out on it that he realised how wrong he was.

Your reaction was frightening. You cried and screamed at him, pushed him out of your space. He didn’t know you were capable of such a strong display of emotion, but he’d struck a nerve, and those were the repercussions.

He recalled how the blows to his chest didn’t hurt, like there was no force behind them. You weren’t weak at all, you just couldn’t find the willpower to really hurt him. He wished you had hurt him. Maybe getting it out of your system would have helped. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to feel so guilty.

It became so obvious to him what was happening, and he felt like an idiot for not understanding it sooner. It wasn’t that you thought you were special, or immune to the consequences—you just didn’t care what happened to you.

Now Tess was gone, and he had this horrible feeling that he was going to lose you too.

His way of dealing with it was to push you away even more. He told himself it would make things easier when you inevitably left him.

Things came to a head one night after the three of you left Lincoln. Joel had been driving all day, and he would be doing it again the next day. He was in desperate need of sleep, but as he stared out into the eerie darkness of the woods, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if he didn’t stay awake.

He heard the rustling of a sleeping bag sometime after midnight. He thought it was you just rolling over in your sleep—something you often did—but then he heard the faint sound of dead leaves crunching under feet, and you were by his side a moment later.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you asked in a soft, sleepy voice that made his chest ache.

“Keepin’ watch,” he replied bluntly.

“But you’re driving tomorrow,” you said. “You need sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve slept, so I can take over,” you offered.

“I just told you I’m fine.”

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

You backed off, hanging your head in shame, and he instantly felt horrible—you were being nice to him and he was still being a complete asshole.

Joel tried to tear his gaze away from you. He wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he hadn’t just done that, but his eyes stayed on you. He watched the shame dissolve and replace itself with indignation. You pulled your head up and glared at him with a fire in your eyes that threatened to burn right through him.

“I get it, okay? I’m sorry.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I never meant for you to get stuck with me. I know it’s your worst fucking nightmare. If I could switch places with Tess—“

“Stop.” He wouldn’t hear that. He couldn’t. It would kill him. “That’s not—I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m glad you’re here, understand? I need you with me.”

You let out a bitter laugh. The sound hit his ears like a gunshot. “You just told me you didn’t. All you’ve done—all you’ve ever done—is act like I’m a fucking waste of space.”

Joel’s mouth when dry, his heart dropped to his stomach, and he thought he might vomit. It shouldn’t have shocked him like it did, but hearing you say it made him sick. He put the gun he’d been clutching down on the ground, disarming himself in more ways than one. “I don’t think that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just—fuck—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Are you gonna leave?”

“Leave this mission or this mortal coil?"

“Either, I guess.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Your voice was just a whisper, and it felt like you were ripping Joel’s heart out and crushing it in your hands.

Fuck no, he didn’t want you to leave, and that was what scared him the most; feeling attached to someone so detached (and yes, he was a hypocrite). He wouldn’t be able to take it if he woke up one day and you were gone.

But he couldn’t keep doing this to you. It was selfish and cowardly and it just made everything worse. He made everything worse.

“I can’t do this without you,” he told you. He hadn’t known how true it was until he said it.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.” He felt suddenly impassioned. “You can’t…if you…just don’t. Promise me you won’t.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let the words out of his mouth and into the universe. You both knew what he meant.

“I promise,” you said. You sounded oddly tranquil, but Joel was destroyed, even though he knew he didn’t have the right to be—this was entirely his fault.

“Can you let me keep watch so you can get some sleep?” you asked again.

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Just need to know where you are.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and glossy, and for a second he thought you might start crying. Before he could think of something to do or say, your hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down into an urgent kiss.

He didn’t know what was happening, what you were thinking, or what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he needed to kiss you back. One of his hands found your waist while the other splayed out across your back, pulling you flush against him.

It was nowhere near sweet. It was intense and unyielding—a frantic clashing of teeth and bruising of lips. It was intoxicating, earth-shattering, but felt so right, like it was always meant to happen—or needed to happen.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, somehow bringing him impossibly closer to you. You hiked a leg up around his hip and tugged his pelvis forward. He ran a hand down from your waist, brushing it over your ass and gripping your thigh.

You rolled your hips into his, eliciting a deep, involuntary groan from him. He was painfully hard. He knew he would regret this, but he set your leg down and managed to tear his mouth away from yours. 

He missed the feeling immediately, and he didn’t have the self-control to pull away completely. His hands were still on you, pressing you against him. You looked so pretty and ruined gazing back at him; breathless and flustered with pink, swollen lips.

Fuck.

You had just kissed Joel Miller, the man you hated. 

You didn’t hate him.

You kissed the man who hated you.

He didn’t hate you.

You kissed the only person you had left. You kissed him even though it made no sense. You kissed him because you wanted to.

You started it, but then he stopped it. His eyes were dark, his face was flushed, and the bulge in his jeans was not going away. He looked like he was in pain, struggling with his own conscience.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be sorry.” He grinned softly and reached a hand up to tangle in your hair. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture. “I liked it.”

Your heart melted. He was so lovely, so dear. You never imagined in your wildest dreams that Joel Miller could be like this.

“Just don’t wanna take advantage,” he said.

“You’re not. I kissed you,” you reminded him.

“I know, but you're upset, and you don’t like me much, and you’re tired. Don’t want you doing anything you don’t actually wanna do.”

You did want it, but you were also overwhelmed and exhausted, and more importantly, it would have been a majorly fucked up thing to do with a 14 year old sleeping 20 feet away.

“But if you still want it later”—he gave you another chaste kiss—“you can have it.”

You giggled, kissing him one more time. You didn’t know when you'd be able to again.

His gentle smile faded, and he looked into your eyes with devastating sincerity. “I got you now, okay?”

“I know, Joel.”

“Do you have me?” he asked.

“I’m trying.” You hoped that would be enough, because it was all you had.

“That’s all I need, sweetheart.”

a/n: so i wrote most of this when i was sick with the flu and i fully intended for it to be a one-shot, but i love this dynamic and i’m thinking of exploring it further. let me know if y’all would be interested in seeing more of these two. (edit: this a/n is now redundant bc i did in fact write the sequel).

[luvyeni]

❛HOT N’ COLD❜ ( o. shotaro )

p. ghostface!shotaro x fem!reader w. 2k+

warnings? stalking, minor character death, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding link

— 𖦹 ( after years of running from him he finally caught up to you ) !

freaktober masterlist

‘this couldn’t be happening’ was all you thought as you listened to the radio on the way back from your job. “convicted serial killer , osaki shotaro broke out of prison earlier this evening.” you couldn’t believe your ears , how the fuck did he manage to get away. ‘i thought i got away’ you sped on the gas all the way home.

“(name) , calm down.” your friend tried to calm you down. “if he was smart enough he would stay here. he’s probably on his way to canada or something.” she didn’t know him like you did , when he wanted something, he got it.

“it’s been 4 years (name) , no more running.” she said , you sighed , she was right. you had moved a total of 3 times in the past few years , every time he’d find your new address, sending you a letter , declaring his love for you , and you were tired , you wanted to settle down. “he’s gone.”

she suggested you take a hot shower to relax yourself. “relax and eat all the junk you want.” she said before hanging up , you decided to listen – what’s the worst that could happen.

After finishing your shower – which was actually pretty relaxing , you wrapped the warm towel around your body , stepping out of the shower , grabbing your phone to turn off the music you were playing from the speaker. “huh?”

you were confused , your friend knew you were in the shower and your phone would be on do not disturb , so why would they try and call , 6 times at that. you pressed her number , waiting for her to pick up , it finally answered after a few rings. “i told you i'd be in the shower , why’d you call so much?”

first there was heavy breathing. “(friends name)?” there was a small gasp , then a giggle. “(friends name) , this is not funny.” you sat your phone down , putting on your underwear and a random sweatshirt you found. “what a shame baby.” That voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “i thought you would’ve remembered my laugh , i remembered everything about you.” your body froze up.

“sh-shotaro?” you stuttered. “eh? What happened to taro baby , you know i used to love when you called me that." he giggled once again. “shotaro , where is (friends name? what did you do to her.” He kissed his teeth. “see that’s why I should’ve killed her four years ago , she was always trying to get in between our love.” He said. “don’t worry , she won’t be bothering us anymore.”

his laughter sent shivers down your spine. “where is she!” you yelled. “i killed her baby , duh.” He said so casually. “she is such a screamer.” you gasped as he explained. “i got admit , it was fun , stabbing her , finally watching the life leave her eyes.” tears flowed down your cheeks. “don’t cry baby , the good news is , right before she died , she was so kind as to give me your address.”

fear set in your stomach , running to your room , closing and locking the door. “baby you know locking the door isn’t gonna stop me.” you were confused , how did he know unless. “you’re in my house.”

“such a smart baby.” he said. “it was so easy to , out anniversary date , as usual.” you should’ve changed it , but you it was the only set of numbers you could remember besides your birthday. You were pleading with him sobbing. “pl-please just go , i wont tell anybody , if you just go.”

“i can’t do that baby , not after I dreamt of this day for 4 years.” he said. “we broke up shotaro , please it’s over.” you cried , grabbing the small knife from your nightstand. “where are you , huh?” you said. “how long will you keep this up!”

“baby if you want me so bad , come find me.” he said. “im not stupid.” his giggles pissing you off. “shut the fuck up!” he stopped laughing. “talk to me like that again , and i kill your family.” His attitude switching from normal to dark , back to normal. “now come out like a good girl and play , if not i go to your parents house.”

“no please.” you opened the door. “look I did it , please just go now.” He tsked. “now come find me.” he said. “where are you?” you gritted your teeth. “that’s not how this works love , you have to play right to get your reward.” he said. “if you try to leave i'll know baby.”

you made your way into the kitchen. “you’re so cold baby , but i can see you now , and you look just as beautiful as ever , that sweatshirt isn’t really hiding much.” You wished you would’ve never gotten those cameras now , but in the moment they seemed to be a good idea.

“ooh baby.” he taunted , “you’re getting warmer.” he said as you turned back to make your way into your room , you turned to the closet. “bingo.” he said. “you’re so hot.” you slowly walking up to the closet. “are you gonna open it?” he questioned , as you reached for the door , opening it ready to swing the knife. “w-what.”

he was giggling again. “jesus baby.” he said through laughter. “maybe you are dumb , you really think i'd tell you where i am that easy.” you could barely see through it tears. “don’t cry baby , you’ll see me soon enough.”

“i can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.” he said. “it’s been so long , but i haven’t forgotten the way you smelled , i see you still use that soap i bought you.” you turned to the bathroom , the door was closed – you never closed the door after a shower. “you’re in the bathroom.”

“am i?” he questioned. “how about you check.” you were done with his teasing , running back to your room , closing and locking the door. “oh , are you being a brat baby?” he said. “i'm done.” your voice was shaky. “im done with your games.” The phone hung up. “hello?”

“really baby?” your heart sank. “cause it seems like you fell right into my trap.” There he stood behind you , after four years you’ve finally came face to face with the guy in the mask who struck so much fear in your heart for the past 4 years. “sh-shotaro.”

you look to the door , trying to make a run for it , but he was quicker , grabbing your wrist , forcing the knife out your hand. “please.” you begged. “please don’t kill me.” he let your arm go , holding the knife to your throat , keeping you in place.

he took the mask off , blood splattered still on it. “you know i will never harm you baby.” he said , his face still had that soft inviting look that he had before he became this monster that stands before you. “but you have to be a good girl.”

“w-what do you want?” his eyes went down your body , then back to your eyes , smirking , dropping the knife , letting you breath a bit. “you baby , that’s all i ever wanted was you.” he said. “you’re a murder!” You shouted. “you’ve killed many people.”

“that doesn’t change anything does it?” he said. “w-what?” you stuttered. “in all of the four years you’ve never moved too far away from me.” he started. “look around baby , you’ve kept things from our relationship , you still use things I bought for you.” you remembered him pointing out the soap , he always bought you that.

“that doesn’t even mean anything , i did love you along time ago.” you said. “a long time ago eh?” he said backing you against the wall. “then tell me you don’t love me anymore.” he said. “tell me you don’t miss me anymore.”

you were speechless , he was so close. “you can’t can you?” he grabbed your cheeks , forcing you to look at him. “because you still love me.” his hands travelled down from your waist down to your ass. “sh-shotaro.” he shut you up with a kiss.

this was wrong , you should’ve pushed him off , he was dangerous – he killed your bestfriend for gods sake , he could still kill you. “you know you want this.” he kissed against your neck. “you even dressed up so pretty for me.” he played with ends of the sweatshirt. “you even kept my sweatshirt.”

he picked you up , throwing you on the bed , hovering over you. “never forgotten the way how wet you got for me.” he pressed down on your clothed clit. “sh-shit.” you moaned and he smirked. “there you go , moan for me.” he rubbed your clit harder. “you want my fingers?”

he pulled your underwear to the side , pushing his fingers inside you. “fuck taro.” he roughly fucked your hole , pulling moan after moan out of you. “so fucking wet , can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.” his cock was straining against his bloodstained pants , begging to be freed.

“t-taro.” your back arched off the bed. “i-i'm gonna cum.” he curled his fingers , you screamed in pleasure. “im cumming!”

He fingered you through your orgasm , pulling his fingers out , tapping your face. “open.” he forced his fingers in your mouth , groaning as you tasted yourself. “good girl.” he put his fingers that were covered in your spit and juices , wrapping his plump lips around them. “so sweet.”

he stood off the bed , undoing his pants , letting them hit the floor , along with his underwear , before getting back on your bed , slotting himself in between your legs. he pulled your panties down. “such a pretty pussy.” you moaned , as his tip kissed your clenching hole. “t-taro , please fuck me.”

he didn’t easing himself inside you , slamming himself inside you , making you scream. “fuck baby.” he groaned. “so fucking tight , when was the last time anyone has fucked you?” truth is , he was the last time you had sex , you were too busy running to settle down , or even a one night stand. “f-four y-years.”

“four years.” he chuckled. “baby the last time you had sex was with me.” he sped up. “you basically saved yourself for me.” he grunted. “you knew only i could fuck this sweet cunt good enough to make you scream.” he abused your poor cunt.

“that’s it scream for me.” he wrapped his hand around your throat. “such a whore for me , i killed your bestfriend , her blood is still on me , and here you moaning for me like a slut.” he growled. “you’re just a sick as i am.”

you weren’t gonna last long with the way he handled your body , fucking you at a inhumane pace , your brain a little foggy due to lack of oxygen. “look at you , so dumb for me.”

“g-gonna cum.” you managed to get out. “yeah? gonna cum for me , cum all over my cock.” you nodded. “well go ahead , so i can breed your cunt , give you a kid to remind you of who you belong to.” he thrusted up , hitting that spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head , clenching around him , cumming.

“fuck , shit in gonna cum -fuck- gonna fill you up.” he moaned out before you felt the warmth of his seed spilling into your pussy. “fuck , take my cum.” he pressed his hips against yours , emptying himself inside you.

he stayed inside you , kissing your neck. “gonna run away.” he said. “somewhere really far where they’ll never find me.” he finally pulled out. “gonna take you with me.” He watched the cum leak out of you , scooping it up , pushing it back in. “start a family with you.” He kissed your forehead.

“and i'll kill anyone who tries to get in my way.”

©LUVYENI

[winchesterwild78]

A Secret Love

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam

Warnings: mention of death, angst, heartbreak

A/N: So this is gonna break some hearts….sorry. I’m writing a series about Dean surviving the rebar. This is just a one shot of Dean dying and the people in his life picking up the pieces. The reader is Dean’s secret girlfriend, and we find out some things even Sam didn’t know. 

I wrote this fast, please overlook any errors. 

All work is my own, don’t take it. 

Minors DNI 18+

The crisp autumn air was a stark contrast to the warmth of the cabin. Dean Winchester, the love of your life, sat across from you, his eyes filled with a familiar intensity. He'd come to visit, as he often did, but this time, there was a weight to his presence.

“Dean, when are you going to tell Sammy about us? We’ve been dating for 3 years now?” “Soon, sweetheart. I want to make sure he’s going to be okay. He seems to really like Eileen. I think she might be the one for him.”

“That’s great Dean, but what about us? I feel like I’m a dirty little secret or something. I’m not sure how much longer I can live like this. I love you, Dean, but if you’re not in love with me you need to tell me right now.” I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "Dean," I began, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened in surprise, then softened into a tender smile. "Really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Really, you replied softly" Your heart swelling with a mixture of fear and joy. Dean had always been protective, keeping you hidden from the dangerous world he inhabited with his brother, Sam. But now, with a child on the way, he knew he had to make a choice.

"I can't do this anymore," he said, his voice firm. "I want to be with you. With us. I want to get out of this life. I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter, and now with the baby, I want to be there to watch them grow up. I know with Jack in charge things could be different for us.” 

Dean stood up, pulled me close to him and kissed my lips. “I love you, sweetheart. I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad. I definitely think it’s time to tell Sammy.” You smiled, it was a drastic change, but it was clear that he was determined. I was overwhelmed with happiness. Finally, the two of us could be together without fear.

Dean spent the next few days with me. Sam thought he was on a hunt with another hunter, and didn’t press him too much. The days with Dean were filled with laughter, good food and good music. He loved to sing to me, and I loved to sit and listen to him. His voice had a calming effect to it, that I was sure would come in handy with the baby too. 

As day turned into night, Dean made love to me. Slow and purposeful, exploring my body like it was the first time. His hand and lips would gently run over my belly. “I love you, sweetheart. Let’s get married.” I gasped, “Really?!” Dean smiled, “Yeah, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and the baby. What do you say?” “Yes, Dean. I’ll marry you.” He pulled me into his arms and placed a feverish kiss on my lips. 

The last day Dean spent with me before he headed home was perfect. The two of us went and picked out an engagement ring, had lunch and of course pie, then Dean took me for a stroll in the park around the lake. As the two of us made our way back to the Impala I noticed Dean’s attention was elsewhere. I followed his gaze and saw the fire department. Dean had a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face.

I smiled at him, “Dean, why don’t you go ask for an application. I’m sure they have one.” “Are you sure you don’t mind?” I touched his arm, “No, baby. Go.” Dean kissed my lips again and ran across the street. I saw him talking to some of the firefighters and he looked at me, grinned, and waved. When he finally came back, I could feel the excitement pouring out of him. “The chief wants me to put this in as quickly as possible.” “Dean, that’s amazing.” 

The next morning as Dean said his goodbyes, he promised he’d be back in a few days. I nodded, kissed his lips and told him I loved him. Dean pulled me into his arms, kissed my lips and smiled, “God I love you, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re mine and we’re going to have a baby. Sammy is going to lose his mind with excitement.” I smiled, nodded and kissed him one last time. “I love you, Dean. Come back safe to us.” “I love you too, Y/N, and I will do my absolute best.” 

As Dean drove away my heart clenched in my chest. I always hated when he had to leave, but I understood why. He had a job to do, a commitment to Sam and everyone else. Sometimes I wished his commitment to me was stronger. 

A few days later Dean sent me a text. 

Dean: Hey sweetheart. Got a job that is going to take some time. I’ll call when I can. I can’t wait to see you soon. I’m bringing Sammy with me so I can tell him about us and the baby. I love you. 

Me: oh okay. Be careful and I can’t wait to see you and Sam. We love you, Dean. 

Days passed and you hadn’t heard from Dean. I was starting to get worried, but if he was on an intense hunt he would sometimes go weeks without checking in. I sent him a text just to let him know I was thinking about him. 

Me: Hey handsome. Just saying hi and I miss you. I can’t wait to kiss your lips and be in your arms again. I love you, we love you. By the way, the baby is doing great. Healthy and happy. 

I sent an ultrasound picture with my text. I’d gone to the doctor and they checked on the baby and everything looked great. 

Dean: I love you too, darlin’. This hunt is brutal. Sorry I haven’t called or texted. Thank you for sending a picture to me. 🥰😘 I love you both so much. I’m glad they are doing well. I can’t wait to meet them. 

My heart fluttered in my chest. I was going to be a mother and Dean a father in a few short months. I was over the moon. 

The days stretched out into a week. Soon the week was almost two. Still no word from Dean. 

I finally decided to call. I called Dean's number, my heart pounding with anticipation. Instead of his familiar voice, I heard a stranger's. "Hello?"

“Oh um, hi. I’m trying to reach Dean. Is this Sam?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Yes," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of sadness.

"Is Dean there?" I asked, as my heart sank.

"I'm afraid not, Who is this?" Sam replied. “Oh, I’m Y/N, Dean’s fiancée. I’m sure he’s planning on telling you. He was bringing you to meet me. We’ve been dating for 3 years. I know all about your lives, but he insisted on keeping me out of it.” 

I heard a sadness in his voice, “oh, yeah. Um I don’t know how to tell you this, but he died about a week ago." 

My world crumbled around me. I couldn't believe it. Dean was gone. And I was carrying his child. The pain was almost unbearable.

Tears fell from my eyes. My breath caught in my throat and I felt like I was under water, drowning. 

“What? What happened?” I asked through sobs. My heart aching with every tear that fell. It felt like there was a hole in my chest. 

Sam told me about the accident and the rebar that took Dean’s life. As he recounted the tragedy my stomach turned and I felt my heart breaking. 

I was mourning the loss of my beloved and the father of my unborn child. 

“I was trying to figure out how to get in contact with you. Dean told me about you and the baby as he was dying. He had written letters to people he loved in the event of his death. There is a letter addressed to you, and one addressed to the baby.”

I hit the ground sobbing. I’d lost Dean. Our future together, the plans we made were just gone. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I want to drive out to you, Eileen and I want to meet you and bring you the letters Dean wrote.” 

I sat, still softly sobbing. “When?” I asked through hiccup sobs. “Whenever you’re ready for us to come. We don’t want you to be alone right now. You’re carrying Dean’s child, so that makes us family.” 

I cried harder at the sound of Dean’s name. “Dean” I whispered. 

Sam’s heart broke at the sound of my pain. He’d lost a brother, but he knew I lost so much too. Not only did I lose the love of my life, he knew my child lost their father and we lost the future we had planned. 

“Hey, Y/N, tell me where you are and Eileen and I will come get you.” Sam’s voice softly echoed through the phone. 

I gave him the address to the cabin and told him I needed to go. After I hung up I laid in our bed and sobbed. I grabbed Dean’s pillow and held it tightly. It still smelled like him. 

“Dean, please come back to us. We need you. God or Jack, whoever is listening, please give him back to me. Please. I’ll do anything. Please.” My pleas filled the room but were left unanswered. 

I sobbed louder. The sounds coming from me were unlike anything I’d ever heard before and definitely not from me. The cries were primal and full of anguish. I was irrevocably broken.

Exhaustion finally took over and I fell into a restless sleep. My dreams filled with flashes of the love Dean and I had shared, and flashes of a future void of him and his love. 

Around daybreak I crawled out of bed. My head was pounding and my eyes swollen and red. I managed to make something to eat and forced myself to eat it. 

As I walked around the house my heart ached more. There wasn’t a single room, a place that didn’t hold a memory of Dean. The couch where we shared our first kiss, the kitchen where we’d spent countless hours talking, cooking together, and dancing, and our bedroom, where our love created the life that was now growing inside me.

A few hours later a knock came on the door. I opened it to see a really tall man and shorter woman standing there, with soft smiles on their faces, but their eyes full of sorrow. Without a word the man pulled me into a hug. 

I collapsed in his arms, not caring who he was. As we pulled apart I saw the Impala. Dean’s car, my Dean’s car. This must be Sam, I thought. 

“Hey, Y/N, I’m Sam and this is Eileen.” I nodded and stepped to the side letting them come in. Eileen signed, “Nice to meet you, I’m so sorry about Dean.” I simply nodded as tears started to fall.

The three of us sat on the couch and Sam asked how far along I was in the pregnancy. My voice, small and weak, finally answered, “I’m about 2 months along now. So it's still very early.” Sam and Eileen looked at each other, “I know you said you and Dean had been dating for 3 years, but how did you two meet?”

I let my mind drift to the day I met Dean. A slight smile formed on my lips. “I was at the grocery store and I needed a dessert for a work function. I normally would bake it, but I didn’t have time to do what I wanted, so I decided to just buy a pie. I grabbed the last apple pie, but as I did I felt resistance. I looked up and saw this tall, handsome, green eyed man with a smirk on his face. I told him I was buying the pie, and he said “No, darlin’ I need this pie. It’s a matter of life or death.” I laughed and he laughed that deep, head tilting laugh of his. We talked and then we came back here. We sat for hours talking and eating the pie together. Then he kissed me, and I knew I was his forever. I never believed in love at first sight until Dean.”

“We’ve been together ever since. He kept me away from the hunting life to protect me. He didn’t want monsters or anything to come after me. Lately he talked about getting out of hunting. He wanted to be a firefighter, and we were going to raise this baby together. Before he left this last time, he asked me to marry him. We picked out my ring, and now he’s gone.” Tears began to fall fast.

Sam’s face contorted with pain and sorrow. He had no idea his brother had a secret life, one where he was happy and rid of monsters. Sam took a deep breath, “I remember that hunt we were on. He left to get supplies and pie, but was gone for hours. When he came back he had everything but the pie. He wore a smile I’d not seen in years. Now I understand why. He had met you. So, I guess these are for you. When Dean was dying, he told me to check the safe in his room. When I looked I found all these letters. One was addressed to you, and one to “baby Winchester”.” 

Sam handed me the two envelopes. A lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t breath. Sam touched my hand, “We’ll give you some privacy.” I nodded and they went outside. I sat on the couch and looked at the envelope in my trembling hands. 

The white envelope simply had ‘Y/N’ on it. The other one had ‘Baby Winchester’. My heart broke when I saw that. Dean wanted to be a father. He would have been an amazing father, now our baby would never know him. 

I turned the envelope addressed to me over and opened it. I took a deep, shaky breath and pulled out the letter. I saw Dean’s handwriting and read his final words to me.

Y/N,

Hey sweetheart. If you’re reading this something happened and I’m gone. This isn’t the future I envisioned for us. One where you’re alone and I’m gone. I know this time I won’t be coming back like I did so many other times, and that makes this worse. From the moment I met you, you know when you were trying to steal the last apple pie, I knew I wanted to be with you. I fell in love with you fast and hard. The hours spent with you, laughing, talking and making love were the happiest of my life. You became my refuge, my light in this dark world. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you and our child. Damn I couldn’t wait to see you walking down the aisle in that beautiful dress. I dreamed about the day you would officially become Mrs. Winchester. My wife, my partner, forever. I’m sorry sweetheart that you have to raise our child without me. Just know Sammy will be there for you and our baby. He’s going to be an amazing Uncle. Please sweetheart, don’t let losing me break you and your beautiful soul. Our baby needs you. I know it’s going to be hard without me, but I’ll check in on you and the baby from time to time. I love you so much, sweetheart. The letter for the baby, please read it when you’re ready, and make sure they get it too. There is still so much I wish I could say to you. I want you to know you’re everything to me. I never thought I was worthy of love, happiness or being a husband and dad, but you made me believe that I am. Thank you sweetheart, for loving me through all the flaws and darkness in my life. There are going to be days where you feel like you can’t go on, I’m sure that’s how you’re feeling now, but please know you are one of the strongest people I know. You can go on, I want you to. From the moment I slipped that ring on your finger you were Mrs. Winchester, and Winchesters don’t give up. Please keep Sammy close, take care of yourself and our baby. I love you both so much. Until we meet again, I love you and I’ll see you later sweetheart.

Love, D

The tears fell hard and fast. Sobs filled my body as I gasped for air. As I read his words I heard his voice, felt his strong arms wrapped around me, comforting me. The hole in my chest is a little smaller. Sam and Eileen came back into the house and sat down. Sam wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. 

“Y/N, I don’t know what your letter said, but Dean would want me to stay in your life and be an uncle to the baby. Eileen and I are moving to the area so we can all be together. We will be here for you every step of the way. You’re a Winchester, and having my niece or nephew. We stick together.” 

I touched my belly and thought about Dean’s words. “Thank you Sam. I think being around family is exactly what I need. Besides, this baby is going to need to know more about their daddy than I know.” I touched Sam’s hand, “Thank you, Sam and Eileen.” 

Sam smiled softly, “Of course, you’re family and family sticks together.”

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Run, pretty girl, run Chapter 2

Summary:  Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut

“Бегать”: run “Подтвердить” : confirmed “Enkosi”: thank you “Дома”: home “Добро пожаловать”: welcome

Previous chapter Next chapter

They drove for hours until it was nearly nightfall.  Bucky pulled off the highway and started taking a complicated route of back roads until they came to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned house.  He reached back and grabbed their bags as Y/N got out of the car.  She stretched, grunting at the heaviness she carried as she walked up to the house, Bucky not far behind her.  He looked around carefully before pushing the doorbell with his flesh thumb.  A small keypad appeared on the side of the doorbell and he punched in a four digit code.  A whirring could be heard as locks moved and the house seemed to wake up.  The door unlocked and he quickly opened it, ushering Y/N inside and shutting it behind them soundly, punching in the code again.

The inside didn’t match the outside, a fully furnished front room that was clean and tidy being lit up as Bucky switched the light on.  He dropped their bags on the couch and headed towards the kitchen to see what food was available.  “I’m sorry we drove so long,” he called out, opening the fridge to a fully stocked spread of food, pulling out ingredients to make something for them both.  “I promised you dinner, so give me a bit and I’ll make something.”

“Okay,” Y/N said quietly.  “I’ll pick a room.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky replied, quickly putting things together.

He heard Y/N rummaging around in the room just down the hall as he made some simple sandwiches, making sure hers was made the way she liked, but with no deli meat.  Bucky had been surprised that that was one of the things pregnant people couldn’t have, and instead made her a play on a grilled cheese.  As he finished the food he put it on the dining room table and got them some drinks.  “It’s ready Y/N!”

Her footsteps scuffled through the hallway and she appeared in the kitchen, already changed into a long sleep shirt.  “Grilled cheese…you know me so well,” she smirked at him, gripping his arm and squeezing it appreciatively.  Bucky smiled as he helped her sit and then sat himself next to her.  They ate in silence, Y/N looking around the kitchen and into the front room absentmindedly.  When she finished she drank a lot of water then sat back tiredly.  “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“More driving.  We’ll probably reach the coast by tomorrow night, then we’ll have to figure out the next best thing.  Flying isn’t really an option with it being so close to your due date,” he said, eyeing her belly.  “So we’ll need to see what kind of boat options are available to us.  Or see if we can get a hold of somebody else who got out who might have more access to resources than us.”

“Like who?” she asked, rubbing her belly worriedly.

“Well, I’m assuming Yelena will be reaching out soon for an update.  Or maybe Shuri.  She’d be the most secure option,” he rattled off, finishing his food and wiping his mouth.  Y/N nodded, her brow furrowed as she contemplated what he was saying.  He licked his lips and reached a hand out again, covering the one on her belly.  “It’s gonna be okay, pretty girl.  We’ll get there before he comes.”

Y/N nodded again, but she didn’t look convinced.  She sighed and looked up at him with a tight smile.  “Yeah, we’ll make it.”

They cleaned up and went to their rooms that were right across the hall from each other.  Y/N turned in her doorway to face him.  “When do you wanna head out?”

“0800 hours?” Bucky asked, yawning and stretching as he leaned against his doorway.

“Sure,” she agreed.  “Well, goodnight Buck.”

“Goodnight, Mamas,” he smiled tiredly at her.  “Sleep well.”  He leaned down to her belly and poked it lightly with his metal finger, making her giggle.  “And you better let her sleep or so help me God–”

“Oh so now you’re threatening my unborn child?” Y/N laughed.

“Damn right I am,” he scoffed, glancing up at her.  He leaned a little closer to her belly, “Watch it,” he grumbled before standing up straight.  

“You’re so dumb,” she giggled again, rubbing her eyes.

“But you love me,” Bucky smirked.

“Yeah yeah,” Y/N rolled her eyes and walked backwards into the room, grabbing the side of the door.  “Sleep well, hot stuff.”

Bucky slightly blushed at the pet name and rolled his eyes back at her.  They both closed their doors and went to bed.

It was a fitful night’s sleep, Bucky feeling constantly on high alert.  Any small noise made him jump, his hand reaching for the one of the three weapons he had placed around him.  At four in the morning he heard something that made him jump out of bed.  It was like a scraping noise coming from outside, and he silently stalked to the window.  He subtly pulled back a part of the blinds and peeked out.  The super soldier serum made it so he could see well in the dark, and outside was a team of agents, fully equipped and dressed for a stealth mission, sneaking around the side of the house.  Bucky gritted his teeth and stopped himself from swearing out loud, slowly moving away from the window, gathering his things and slipping on his shoes before opening his door as quietly as possible.  He snuck into Y/N’s room, gathering her things into her bag before going to her bed.

“Y/N,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder gently.  Y/N jolted, turning to look at him with wide eyes.  She had obviously had a fitful sleep like he did.  She inhaled and opened her mouth to speak but he covered it with his hand.  “There’s a team outside.  I counted at least 7 on the side of the house.  We need to go.  Now.”

Y/N nodded against his hand, her breathing becoming shaky.  He helped her get up slowly and quietly, slipping her shoes on before guiding her down the hallway to a set of stairs that were hidden in a wall.  They went down the stairs, locking the door in the wall behind them with another keypad.  Under the house was a basement that doubled as an underground garage.  The lights turned on automatically as they walked on down the steps, displaying three vehicle options.  Bucky chose the high speed suburban nearest the exiting door.  This safe house had a mile long getaway underground track that would eventually spit them back out on the highway.  Y/N got in and strapped herself in as Bucky put their bags in the back again.  He started the car, opening the garage door with a button inside the car and driving down the tunnel track.

They went at a normal speed at first so as not to attract attention with a rumble under the dirt.  As they got further away Bucky sped up until they started to see the beginnings of sunrise shining down into where the tunnel started to slope up towards the road.  When they finally drove out of the tunnel they were able to merge onto the empty highway, and Bucky took off like a shot down south.  Y/N looked behind them, making sure no one was in sight.

“I don’t see anything,” she said, turning back around.  “God, how did they find us?”

“My guess, they had some information on Stark’s old safe houses somehow,” Bucky mused, his brow furrowed low with anger.  “We need to call Shuri.”  He fished his burner phone out of his pocket and gave it to Y/N.  “Dial 7 three times.”

Y/N nodded and did as he said, putting the phone on speaker.  After four rings the phone was answered.  “Sergeant Barnes, Бегать,” Shuri’s voice filled the car.  

Both Y/N and Bucky sighed at the sound of her voice.  “Подтвердить,” he replied.

“We’re on a secure line.  Where are you?” she continued.

“Leaving the safe house in Virginia,” Bucky replied.  “They made us.  We’re driving down south as fast as possible.”

“Us?” Shuri asked.

“Hey sweetie,” Y/N spoke up, a small smile on her face.

“Y/N?!” Shuri shrieked.  “Bast, aren’t you due any day now?”

“In 6 days,” Y/N informed her, her voice tense.

“Shit,” Shuri whispered.  “I would send one of our ships to pick you up but we’re being watched by the Americans,” she said quickly.  “Can you make it to the port in Miami by tonight?”

“It’s a bit of a long drive, but yeah, I think we can make it,” Bucky said.  He felt something was off and looked in the rearview mirror, seeing a row of black cars coming from the horizon.  “Fuck!” he yelled, pressing down on the accelerator.

“What?” Shuri asked, Y/N looking back at the road, gasping at the sight of the cars following them.

“We’re being followed,” Bucky growled.  “We’re not gonna make it.”

“Just keep going.  I’ll get the Talon sent now, damn the Americans,” she said, the sound of beeping screens on her end.  “I’m tracking you.  We’ll be there as fast as possible, but it will still take just under an hour.”

Bucky swore again as he tried to think quickly.  They were sitting ducks out here on this long open road.  He pushed even harder down on the gas, the car slightly rattling at how far he was pushing it.  The cars behind them were still a ways off, so if he could just outrun them for a little longer, they’d be able to evade long enough for the Talon to reach them.  “Okay, just get here,” he said, trying to keep breathing evenly.  Panic would only make it worse.  Shuri agreed and ended the call.  

Y/N was starting to hyperventilate, her hands shaking as one held the phone and the other protectively covered her belly, rubbing it up and down.  Bucky glanced at her.  “Hey pretty girl,” he called out to her.  She looked at him frantically.  “We can’t panic, okay?  The Talon will be here soon.  We just gotta keep driving.”  Y/N nodded, breathing deeply through her nose and exhaling heavily through her mouth.  He reached under the seat and grabbed the gun hidden underneath.  He handed it to her and she automatically checked to see if it was fully loaded and fire-ready.  He smiled at how strange the sight was of a heavily pregnant ex-agent holding a cocked gun.  “But just in case…you got this Mamas.”

The gun in her hand seemed to somehow calm her, her hands stilling as she focused on the task at hand, her training coming back like second nature.  The cars the agents were driving must have been made for high pursuit, because within twenty minutes he could see them start to close in on them.  Y/N saw them approaching in the side mirror and suddenly unbuckled herself, slipping into the back seat with surprising agility with such a large belly.  She dug into her and Bucky’s bags, pulling out the guns they had and making sure they were all fully loaded.  The first car was coming up on their rear.  Y/N could see one of them roll down their window and point a gun at the car.

“Duck,” she said loudly.

Bucky ducked down just as the first shot rang out, ricocheting off the back window, barely leaving a scratch.  “Gotta love bullet proof glass,” he murmured.

“Roll down the window,” she instructed him.  

Bucky did as she asked and she leaned into the door, slowly holding the gun outside the car window.  She aimed carefully, letting the agents waist their bullets before taking her first shot.  Bucky could see the agent leaning out of the passenger window in the car behind them get hit right between the eyes, his body falling limply out of the window and onto the road, making the first car swerve and the second car try to move and lose control, flying off the highway and into the ditch along the side, rolling a few times.

“Good girl,” Bucky smirked.

Y/N hummed and moved to the other side of the car.  He rolled down that window as well and she aimed at the next agent that was more careful this time in not completely hanging his body out the window.  She was one of the few sharp shooters he’d come across that rivaled Bucky’s prowess as a sniper.  She took a moment to get the perfect shot and the next agent’s head hung limply out of the window.  Y/N took down each shooter one by one, then shot out the engines of two of the cars that tried to come too close with the high power guns hidden inside the car.

The last two cars suddenly accelerated and got on either side of their car.  Bucky rolled up the windows and Y/N sat back far into the seat, keeping herself low.  He tried to speed up but the car was no longer able to go any faster.  The two cars alongside them tried to box them in to slow them down, but Bucky veered into the one on the right, sending them off the road and into the ditch, causing it to roll.  Y/N was bracing herself in the back, twisting to face the other car and keeping the gun steady in her hand.  She saw a panel open on the car on its side, and a thick pole starting to come out of the opening.

“Battering ram!” she screamed, moving to the opposite side of the car as fast as she could.

Bucky looked and saw the pole rear back.  He stepped on the brake to make it so the battering ram would only fit the front of the car, launching himself into the backseat just as it made contact with them.  He tried to wrap himself around Y/N but the car jolted to the right, making it skid at high speed before rolling on the cement then off the road.  The crashing, scraping and glass breaking was deafening.  Bucky felt himself bouncing around the cabin of the car, trying to protect his head then feeling himself fall from the car out the broken front window.  He rolled in the dirt and grass until he finally came to a stop, trying to catch his breath.  He did a quick inventory of himself, moving his fingers, toes, rolling his ankles, wrists, making sure everything could move.  His head was pounding, most likely a concussion, but other than bumps, bruises and scars he was miraculously okay.

He looked around and saw the car a good thirty feet away, upside down and smoking.  He got up and ran over to the car, dropping to his knees and trying to look inside.  “Y/N!  Y/N?” he called out, trying to move debris out of the way to see.  He heard a moan and used his vibranium arm to start ripping at pieces of the car.  After a few minutes he was able to move enough out of the way that he could see Y/N.  She was wedged between the roof of the car and the backseat that had warped in the crash, pushing against her belly dangerously.  Bucky gasped and crawled into the car.  “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted her, trying to keep his voice calm.  “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he said, reaching out and touching her face.  “Can you hear me?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, looking around in shock.  “Yeah,” she said simply.

“Okay, do an inventory,” he instructed her.  “Where’s the pain?”

Y/N subtly moved her fingers, wrists, toes and ankles like he had done, slightly rolling her neck.  “Just…sore, but my stomach hurts real bad,” she said, looking down.  She gasped when she saw the seat pressed hard against her pregnant belly.  “Buck!  Get it off!”

“I’m trying, Mamas, just give me a second,” he said, then felt someone pulling at his feet.  “Fuck!  NO!” he screamed as multiple hands started pulling at his feet and legs, pulling him away from Y/N.  She reached out for him but he was too far.  He was hoisted out of the car, surrounded by multiple men.  He swung, taking out two with his vibranium arm before kicking the two behind him.  He fought hard, but they were nearly meeting him in strength, taking him by surprise.  The fighting was making his head pound harder at the exertion.  One particularly hard punch to one of the agents’ faces produced a dark green blood to spurt from his lip.  Bucky looked at him in shock.

“Enough Sergeant Barnes!” one of them yelled out.

He turned and saw one of the agents knelt down by the car, pointing his gun at Y/N, who was struggling to push off the seat on her.  “Don’t,” he stepped forward.

The agent pushed his hand into the car through the broken window, pushing the gun against her head, making her freeze.  “Come with us, and she gets to live,” he sneered.

Bucky glared at him, assessing the situation.  He was starting to feel queasy at the pressure in his head, and he blinked rapidly, panting breaths as he looked around at all of them.  Then he heard it…a sound above them that the others hadn’t heard or recognized.  He smirked.  “No, we’re leaving,” he said.

The agent looked at him puzzledly before he suddenly stiffened, an electric shock going through him, falling with a thud to the dirt.  The other agents looked around in panic, shouting at each other as each of them were shocked and fell.  The air vibrated above Bucky as he looked up and the cloaking on the Talon cleared away to reveal itself.  He heaved a sigh of relief and ran back to the car.  He lifted it enough to help free Y/N from being pinned against the seat, her body falling to the roof of the car.  She slowly crawled her way out and he dropped the car before picking her up and running toward the Talon as it opened the stairway.  He helped get her seated before turning to the motherboard.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri’s voice echoed through the cabin.  “Are you both alright?”

“Alive,” Bucky replied.  “Just set course for Sibiu, Romania.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come here?” she asked.

“I’d love to, but the checkpoint is Sibiu,” he said quickly, rubbing his temple.  

A chittering sound was heard and then a scan of both of them appeared momentarily.  “Barnes, you’re going to want to come here first.”

“It’s just a concussion, I’ll heal,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Not for you,” Shuri replied quietly.

Bucky froze and then looked behind him at Y/N.  She wasn’t moving, one hand settled on her heart and the other on her belly, her brow furrowed and her mouth slightly agape.  “O-okay,” he agreed, and the Talon moved.  He walked over to her and kneeled down in front of her.  “What’s wrong, Mamas?” he asked cautiously.

Y/N blinked.  “He’s not moving.”

Bucky swallowed harshly.  “I’m sure he’s just resting after all we just went through.”

Y/N shook her head.  “Scan fetus,” she called out loudly to the Talon.

The system on board chittered again before speaking in a clear Xhosa accent.  “Scan complete.  Fetus has suffered from a placenta abruption and fetal trauma.  Fetus is, unfortunately, deceased.”

Y/N’s eyes shut tight, a shaky huff falling from her lips.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  Her hands fell away from her belly and her chest, hanging limply at her sides as her head leaned back against the wall behind her.  Bucky blinked rapidly, staring at her still very pregnant belly.  Dead?  The baby was just…gone?  All those doctors appointments, the long nights crying over her boyfriend up and leaving her, how she and Bucky had gushed over how cute the baby clothes and accessories were, getting the nursery ready that she would now never use, all of it just…done.  Y/N looked like she physically deflated at the news, but there were no tears.  Bucky watched her carefully as he reached up and took one of her hands.  

“Pretty girl,” he said, rubbing her knuckles.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

She didn’t react, her eyes still closed as she breathed evenly.  “It’s okay,” she murmured.  “Would have slowed us down, anyway.”

Bucky blinked at her in surprise, but he knew that this was her way of coping at the moment.  If there was anything they had learned about each other while being mission partners was being able to read one another, knowing each other’s tells, ticks, what buttons not to push, and in moments of severe trauma or pressure how they coped.  She wasn’t feeling safe enough to grieve just yet, so he didn’t push it.  He just leaned forward and laid his head on her knee, his other hand gripping her ankle.  She inhaled deeply at that, and her free hand reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp like she would during his worst nightmares.  They sat like that the whole way back to Wakanda.

@vioplay19 @mrsnikstan @scott-loki-barnes @tufflepuff23

[etaleah]

What Is the Appeal of Sonadow?

I have a lot of thoughts about this ship, what draws people to it, and why some of the criticisms of it are exaggerated or less than honest. Putting them under a cut because it’s gonna get long.

First of all, the critique of “Lol why do people ship them when they beat the shit out of each other whenever they disagree on something, they’re abusive!” is dishonest framing for two reasons. One is that it ignores the fact that Sonic and Shadow are allies far more often than they’re enemies, and even when they are enemies, it’s usually over something serious, not just a minor disagreement. The other is that it’s bad media criticism to apply real human standards to a cartoon animal universe.

When you watch the classic Looney Tunes short where Bugs and Daffy are arguing over whether it’s Rabbit Season or Duck Season and Bugs tricks Daffy into shooting himself, do you see Bugs as abusive and evil? Probably not, because the laws of physics don’t apply in cartoons and Daffy getting shot in the face doesn’t actually hurt him. He’s still completely fine afterwards because he’s a cartoon and is therefore invincible. The same is true for Sonic and Shadow. Have you ever seen either of them seriously injured after one of their fights? Has either one ever needed to go to the hospital because the other beat him up so badly? No, of course not. They groan in pain for about two seconds and then they’re fine. If the creators wanted to convey them being injured, they could show bruises or blood or have bones snapping and the characters limping, but they don’t. The fights are never meant to be taken that seriously. I find this criticism every bit as annoying and overzealous as people who insist that Pinky and the Brain are abusive because Brain bops Pinky on the head. They’re cartoons, y’all. They’re not realistic, were never meant to be realistic, and shouldn’t be treated as realistic. Different standards apply.

To the second point, Sonic and Shadow don’t actually fight that often. In all the interactions they’ve had together, it’s only been a handful of times. They’re allies in the Archie comics, Sonic ‘06, the canon ending of Shadow the Hedgehog (they’re only enemies in that game if the player wants them to be), Sonic Forces, Team Sonic Racing, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and most of the IDW comics, along with the endings of Sonic X, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes. They’re allies for much of Prime as well. But hey, let’s break down the times they do fight:

Sonic Adventure 2: Shadow’s memories have been tampered with and he and Sonic are literally fighting over the fate of the world.

Sonic X: Same thing for season 2, and in season 3, they’re fighting over whether Cosmo should live or die. Sonic says killing her is wrong, Shadow says stopping the Metarex is what’s most important and if that means little Cosmo has to die, well, them’s the breaks, pal.

Sonic Prime: Sonic has broken their world, Shadow is trying desperately to save it, and Sonic is valuing the Shatterverse inhabitants over Green Hill.

IDW: Shadow says Eggman is too dangerous to leave alive and if that means Mr. Tinker has to die too, well, them’s the breaks, pal. Sonic says killing anyone is wrong no matter the reason.

You see a pattern here? Most of the time what they fight over is literally life and death. They’re not going at each other’s throats over petty bullshit like who gets the last slice of pizza or who gets to pick the film for Movie Night. They fight over serious moral differences. I would argue that Amy and Knuckles have gotten angry at Sonic for way less than what Shadow does.

Now, there are a few instances where their fights are stupid, namely Sonic Boom and Sonic Heroes. But I think it’s pretty universally agreed that Shadow is out of character in Boom, and honestly, all of the fights in Sonic Heroes are very forced. There was no reason for Team Dark or Team Rose to fight Team Chaotix; their goals don’t contradict each other in any way and it’s clearly just manufactured conflict to give the player another boss fight. And these are the exception; most of their fights are over serious ideological divides.

Those serious ideological divides are exactly what makes Sonadow so interesting. I personally prefer ships where characters can learn and grow from each other, where their differences can clash until they learn to reconcile them. I don’t find a ship like, say, Sonamy nearly as interesting because I don’t think there’s many (if any) moral stances Sonic would have that Amy wouldn’t. They already agree on the important things. I’m not bashing anyone who likes that ship; if that’s your thing, good for you. It just doesn’t appeal to me because I think Sonic and Amy already having a lot in common morally means they can’t really grow and change from interacting with each other in the same way.

Sonic can bring out the best in Shadow, teach him to trust others and lighten up and learn how to live in the moment rather than being tethered to the past. Shadow can teach Sonic how to think before he acts, to view the world more realistically, and to consider the impact that his insistence on moral purity will have on others. That setup makes for some amazing stories.

Also? These guys love fighting each other. They’re both athletes and very competitive. Look at how much they smile when they fight:

Like…they love this. It’s so much fun for them. Sonic and Shadow are both competitive athletes who love pushing themselves, but in terms of speed, no one is any competition for them except each other. No one else can beat either of them in a race. Imagine spending your whole life winning so easily that there was no accomplishment in it, and then suddenly this guy comes along who’s actually as good as you or maybe even better. Finally you have a challenge and can really enjoy the feeling of being the best. That’d be amazing. They give each other something no one else can, and to me, that’s what good romances are made of.

And all of that is combined with the fact that Sonadow offers an Odd Couple setup, which is always fertile ground for fun, comedic situations that require opposite characters to work together. Plus the Enemies/Rivals to Lovers aspect, which adds a bit of “forbidden fruit” to the mix because we all know that the most tempting and appealing relationships are the ones that are Forbidden (TM). That’s literally the premise of Romeo and Juliet, people who aren’t supposed to be together but end up wanting to be anyway.

I wouldn’t want Sonadow to be canon, but I definitely enjoy exploring it in fandom. It’s a fun ship that offers a lot for a writer or artist to work with. And while I would never force it on anyone, I wish the criticisms of it weren’t quite so shallow and disingenuous.