#once again going into the masterlist sorry

[coryndoll]

❛ we make each other alive . .

does it matter if it hurts? ❜

I’M COMING, WAIT FOR ME.

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTENT best read in dark mode, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, grief, intense survival situations. not a real chapter!! explained above the cut but fleshed out below <3

main masterlist | tag list

AUTHORS NOTE i wanted to address this request, and i got excited and started planning everything. warnings: it might get brutal, and i love it sm, but thats the capitol for you.

SORRY FOR THE NON-CHAPTER, just for those who would like to scream w me bc i loveeee thg sm. all spoilers for this series as far as rafe and y/n being the capitols darlings are below the cut !! nothing more, especially how their games will go or anyt else. read at your own risk !!

HOW SNOW REACTS AFTER THEY WIN

no clue on how i’ll get you guys to win, but i’m sure it INFURIATES snow. but he knows the capitol is eating you up. you’re the monsters who loved each other just enough to refuse one final kill.

instead of making martyrs, he rebrands you: “panem creates not just killers, but loyalty. love. two perfect victors from district 2. beautiful, deadly, loyal to the capitol, and to each other.”

he spins it into a capitol miracle, but punishes you in silence. families are watched 24/7, someone rafe loves probably dies “suspiciously” in an accident, one of your siblings is drafted into the peacekeepers without a say.

but none of it is ever public. on the outside obvi, you’re panems most celebrated couple.

POST-GAMES, REWRITTEN

you’re stuck playing parts forever.

rafe becomes the capitol’s “protector”. he’s strong, silent, the ideal male victor. they give him a uniform-like aesthetic, elevate him like a fucking peacekeeper demigod.

you’re turned into the capitol’s “sharpest rose”. so lethal beauty, elegance and precision. your daggers become a fashion symbol.

you’re offered to capitol citizens for sex, like finnick. but snow frames it like it’s “fan demand.”

you refuse. punishment? your body gets surgically “enhanced” in capitol-approved ways.

rafe gives in once, to protect you. he vomits after. you never speak about it again.

MORE ON THIS BC I GOT EXCITED SRY

they embed thorns into your back. they grow out like a rose stems thorns. the capitol calls you panems rose.

they match your games maybe. like maybe i’ll say you used rose thorns or poisonous flowers as weapons in the arena.

the mods are excruciating. you’re sedated without your consent. you wake up screaming. rafe even tries to rip them out when he sees them for the first time maybe.

LIKE THIS IS HOW I PICTURE IT OK SET THE SCENE RQ

the room is white, not warm white, not soft white. but . . . surgical white. sterilized. empty. watching.

you wake up to silence.

no machines beep. no nurses hover. just weight, like a strange, foreign pressure against your back. like someone laid cold iron across your spine and forgot to take it off.

but you’re on your stomach. the bed is soft, unnaturally so. your throat hurts, your chest burns, your skin feels too tight. and then you move.

barely, a twitch of your hand. that’s all it takes. pain slices down your spine like wire being pulled through muscle. and now you know, it’s not weight. it’s not metal laid on top of you.

it’s inside you.

you don’t cry out. not yet. you breathe through it, your fingers grip the edge of the pillow. you turn your head slightly, just enough to see the side of the bed, the small silver tray. on it sits a mirror. your eyes lock on it.

you don’t want to look.

you have to.

your fingers tremble as they reach for it, shaking harder the closer they get. it’s not bravery. it’s desperation. you need to know. you drag the mirror toward you. you tilt it, angle it, and then you see it.

thorns.

they’ve carved a line of thorns into your back—

no, not into. under. you realize it now.

the sharp, jagged points are breaking through your skin, one by one, in a perfect line down your spine. metal, bone, something else. you don’t know.

they shimmer under the sterile light, gleaming like jewelry, spiked like a crown. placed like a punishment. you stare. and for a moment, your mind goes blank. but then it crashes down. and everything unravels.

you sit up too fast. you scream. you try to grab at them. blood blooms instantly, but you don’t care. you claw at your back like you can rip it all out.

you feel the weight of them now, the thorns down your spine. they’ve turned you into something beautiful.

you scream again, louder this time, and it’s his name, “rafe!”

the door slams open, and there he is, standing, not breathing, not moving. just staring. his eyes go wide when he sees you, then the blood. the thorns too. the hospital gown is stained red.

he says your name, just once, but he doesn’t come closer. so you crawl off the bed, fall, and hit the floor.

your knees give out and your hands slip. he runs to you.

“don’t touch me,” you whisper.

he stops.

“don’t— look at me.”

“y/n—”

“what did they do to me?”

you’re sobbing now. ugly. shaking. the pain is everywhere and nowhere.

and that’s when he sees it. your hands are bleeding from the thorns too. you tried to tear yourself apart.

he kneels. he doesn’t touch you, but his voice cracks when he says, “i didn’t know.”

did that eat idk

but anyway, about the thorns: they run down your spine, top to bottom. theyre metallic, delicate-looking, wtv, but fused under the skin. they’re real. purely aesthetic.

the capitol just says: “you bloomed in blood. you’re our sharpest rose.”

but you never asked to be that.

how the capitol uses it:

open-back gowns at every interview, banquet, and appearance unfortunately. cute but its disgusting. stylists coo about how stunning it is. kids in the capitol even get fake thorn implants to mimic you.

you become fashion.

they sell your pain back to you as power, but you know what it really was. a test, a first-of-its-kind procedure, pushed by a new stylist team wanting to make history.

you knew that if you’d died under the knife, they’d have found another girl. another rose. they would’ve thrown you away a long time ago.

and sometimes, you wish they did.

and with rafe? you wouldn’t let him touch your back for weeks. when you finally do, it’s in the quiet. maybe in bed. maybe in the dark idk.

he probably kisses each thorn like a prayer. like an apology. like he’s saying, you’re still mine.

and your rage builds over time, surely!! maybe you smile in interviews and twirl in gowns, but you know what they did.

the pain is constant. you sleep on your side or your stomach because your back throbs.

stylists would numb it before events, but after? you’re left with bruises from corsets meant to “frame the roses.” it’s not a body anymore. it’s a billboard.

and maybe one day, years later, you’re asked by some capitol child on a talk show, like, “did it hurt?”

and you’ll say nothing for a second, then, smile sweetly and lean in close, “only when i realized it would never stop.”

rafe’s trauma / trafficking:

rafe’s image is like a knight, a protector. and one night after a victory event, a high-ranking capitol sponsor requests him. snow doesn’t ask. he just sends peacekeepers.

rafe goes. he comes back quiet. the next morning, the sponsor is found dead. oh no!! wonder who couldve killed him. the capitol covers it up, says it was a heart attack.

snow knows the truth, and instead of punishing him publicly, he threatens you. so rafe agrees to be used again. once. just once.

when he returns, you’re waiting in the hallway. you don’t say a word. like i said, he throws up, and then you two never talk about it again.

TIMELINE

actually ok i looked over what games are open, maybe ill have you win the 68th tbh at 17 and 18 yrs old. by the time the 75th comes around, youll be about 24 and 25 ish.

so you’re older than katniss and peeta by a few years, established capitol darlings obvi, and in the 75th, youre reaped again as former victors.

katniss and peeta threaten everything snow built with you and rafe. i imagine like this scene where you probably see them and glare. not out of hate, but fear. youre watching yourself all over again. you know what’s coming basically.

katniss sees it, probably thinks you hate her. maybe she thinks youre jealous because your situations are so similar, but later revealed in private to her that you dont hate her, youre just worried for her.

IN THE QUARTER QUELL

everyone wants to ally with you two. careers, nerds, even past enemies. youre terrifying, but it’s earned. your games were legendary.

you and rafe keep up appearances, but are quietly rebellious!! you show it in small ways. not anything noticeable for obvious reasons, but rafe probably does it more than you do, ironically.

like i feel like he’d refuse to speak at certain stops. people think he’s shy, but he’s not. he’s silent because he won’t lie. and he never lets them film him touching your back.

the capitol used to love when he would kiss your shoulders, brushing a hand down the thorns. but in public? his hand never goes there. when asked why, he says, “i’m not proud of what they did to her.”

but you guys help katniss and peeta when you can.

you two have just always and will always use the capitol’s own image of you as a shield for as long as you have to. whatever it takes.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed LOL

[rhyrhy]

Tryouts! - cold shoulders

Tryouts series | A.A

[content warnings:] language, heartbreak, descriptions of injury, r! Hates the world.

series masterlist | wc: 3.6k | previous

Damp long hair darkening her white T-shirt, an exhausted Abby clicked the door shut behind her, greeted by the familiar sound of her roommate’s study music. She wasn’t even sure if it helped Nora study—half the time she just danced around—but the notebook and laptop were out, so that was about as much effort as she’d expected.

The shower had done little to shake off the mess of her day… or the still-tender skin of her lip. Settling in front of her wall mirror, Abby met the eyes of her now-paused, shoulder-shimmying dancing roommate.

“Soo?” Nora asked, clearly hopeful for something she shouldn’t be.

“So?” Abby echoed, voice flat, giving her all she needed to know.

She dropped the smile, mouth falling open. “Nothing? Seriously? You are killing me, Anderson.”

“Yeah, and she’s killing me!” Abby groaned dramatically, tossing herself into her chair. Then, slipping into a voice mocking yours: “Oh Abby, you ruined my life. ‘Piss off, Abby!’ Like, alright. Cool. Just stab me next time.”

“She said that? …Mm.” Nora leaned back slightly, making a scissoring motion with her hands. “Time to cut that loose.”

“You’ll get ’em next time, tiger.” Nora gave her a dramatic thumbs-up before peering back down at her laptop. “Unless she does stab you first. In which case—I dunno—duck.”

“Very helpful. Thanks.” Abby muttered, turning back to the mirror, trying to shove down the stupid sliver of disappointment that was sticking to her ribs like gum on the bottom of a shoe. Felt like she’d hit a stalemate. Again.

As she finally crashed onto her bed, the hum of Nora’s speaker helped drown out the buzzing in her head. She didn’t mean to care. She really didn’t. But the disappointment was there anyway.

Maybe you just weren’t worth her time.

And apparently, your professor wasn’t worth yours.

Your head slumped forward onto the cold desk, out cold—sleeping so deeply you half-expected cartoon Zs and a floaty dream bubble to appear above you. The steady drone of a science lecture lulled you deeper, wrapping you in a weird dream. You didn’t even flinch as the last student packed up and left.

Until a dainty finger poked your shoulder.You shot up, eyes wide, already scrambling for an apology.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—“

Your professor just gave a tight-lipped smile, adjusting her bag. “No harm done, just…” A small sigh. “Try to get some rest after class next time.” Her voice held more concern than malice.

“Oh. Right. Thank you, Professor.”

You grabbed the paper she’d left on your desk like it was a life preserver, nodding again as she held the door open. You were used to people watching you. Born into it, honestly—your mom’s whole legacy thing. Big goals. Going pro. Winning titles. Doing everything she didn’t.

You were used to the eyes being on you. If anything, you’d grown to love it—thanks to your mother’s constant push to carry her legacy. Going pro. Doing it big. All the things she never did, now feeling like your responsibility.

But after a certain outburst, those stares felt like they held more weight than usual. With no practice to go to, you honestly just wanted a pint of ice cream and a warm blanket—something to forget about this whole week. Month. Hell, even the year.

And right before your fingers fully wrapped around the door, hoping to find solace in the parking lot, a familiar voice piped up behind you.

“Hey! There you are!—Jesus, you look…” Dina’s pitch rose slightly as she gave you a once-over. “…Wonderful,” she finished, smiling too hard.

“Weren’t you just lecturing me about lying?” you glanced over your shoulder.

“I—” Dina blinked, scrambling for an excuse.

“There you two are!” came a too-cheerful voice from behind.

“Saved by the teammate,” you muttered.

Josephine chirped with all the energy of someone who did not just sit—well, sleep—through a lecture. “Hi, Dina!” she grinned, then turned to you. “Hi, grumpy. I’m shocked you made it out of the dean’s office alive.”

“Barely.” You nodded, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Oh, enough with the depressing!” she waved off dramatically, nose already buried back in her phone. Her face lit up a second later. “Eeeek! You are so right—it’s going to be perfect. I’m telling you!”

You blinked. “Wait—what are we talking about?”

“The sun, the mountains, whatever snacks I want without Coach telling me to put them down,” Dina added, laughing to herself.

Lightbulb slowly flickering on. “Girls… What are we talking about?”

“The annual trip to—”

It clicked. Every spring, a few of the girls would go glamping, with a devastatingly long road trip to compliment it. The pictures of everyone in smiles and endless bug spray so you didn’t itch your skin off the bones. You remembered the last trip: sharing a tent with your then-girlfriend, jokes around the fire, blowing on your marshmallow when the white browned on the other end of your stick.

Whispering how much you loved her, excited to go into the next semester by her side. So much for that. The warm feeling of the memory paling to a shade of gray.

“Not going.” You said it bluntly, the words coming out faster than you could stop them.

“Yes, she is,” Dina said immediately. “Plus, you could use some relaxation.”

“Dina—” protesting began to ring out.

“Nope. Not listening. Let’s just focus on you not breaking any more noses.” Dina shook her head childishly.

“Oh, speaking of noses,” Josephine said, gesturing vaguely to a figure passing by in a soft pink cardigan, arms crossed tightly over her chest, a fresh bandage bridging the center of her face.

“Hopefully, she doesn’t need another. Pretty sure the last one was expensive.”

You were seconds from adding on—something biting, something that probably wouldn’t help—when Dina’s eyes snapped to her phone.

“Crap. We have to run.”

Right. Practice. You were still benched. So— “Break a leg!” you called after them.

“…It’s cheer?” Josephine tossed back, eyebrows raised.

“You’re right—break both.” You gave a mock salute.

“So funny. Try not to explode some more,” Dina said.

“No promises!” you shouted back. “But hey—if she wants round two, I’m free after lunch.”

“Girl, please,” Josephine groaned. “At least let me eat before I have to lie for you again.”

With a roll of your eyes, you finally pushed the door open. Freedom. Air. An escape. The air of the quiet parking lot hit your arms, goosebumps just as present as the uneasy feeling in your chest. The one that’s been lingering.

Pathetic. A word you never thought would suit you. But here you are, feeling like it, despite the small laughter. Taking a deep breath, you reopened your eyes—only to remember you’d left your wallet in your room. Great. You turned back around, heading in the opposite direction, ignoring the sound of whistles and feet on grass as you passed the field.

Your defeated posture gave you away—whether from a mile off or right up close. Pools of blue subconsciously followed your movement as you faded into the large building. Drawn back when a smack landed on her arm, Abby flinched. The sting had her hand flying up to wave off the figure who caused it.

“Ouch—hey!” A hissed breath followed.

“Earth to Anderson. Are you even listening?” A shorter Ellie corrected, nudging her side with her elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” Abby nodded, eyes flicking toward the now-closed door before landing back on her teammate.

Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Who are you even looking at?”

“No one. Relax.” Abby brushed it off, though she wasn’t sure why she was watching in the first place.

“As if she weren’t practically drooling the moment Miss ‘Give me a U, give me a W’ strutted by,” a teammate chimed in, mimicking Ellie’s gaze toward cheer captain Dina.

“She’s better at that than catching the ball,” Ellie fired back without missing a beat, clearly unfazed—maybe even a little entertained by her dramatic reenactment.

Abby smirked, tying her cleats a little tighter. “Better at that than you.”

Unlike yourself She didn’t have a helicopter parent, but she’d kill for one some days. After her dad passed, the distance with her mom became a canyon neither one tried to cross.

Still, the thought of him—of her dad being proud of her, of how far she’d come—was enough to keep her moving. The reason she pushed so hard. Took hits. Got back up. Led when no one else would. Sure, some of the team were assholes. But letting a few bad apples rot the whole basket? That was way too easy. Lazy. And she wasn’t built like that. As she took her place on the field, the tension of the hallway fight earlier replayed in her head—your words, your expression. No. She shook it off. She had work to do. Ellie was right, Focus.

The sun was high and mean, baking the field until cleats left prominent impressions in the turf. Abby didn’t mind. She just couldn’t help but focus on the memory of that face. The one she thought she’d erased.

But she hadn’t. Whistles shrieked across the yard as drills rotated, players moved like chess pieces, and Abby darted forward in a usual tight sprint.

“Defense, eyes up!” Her Coach bellowed from the sidelines.

She heard the rhythm of it before she saw it—a teammate pivoting on the left, the pass sailing slightly too far, Abby adjusting her step to intercept. She lunged, turning too sharply, positioning herself —and her foot landed wrong. A splintering pain darted up her leg as her ankle twisted inward. Her knee buckled. She hit the ground hard, a grunt bursting from her chest as her shoulder skidded against turf. Grass in her mouth, heat in her jaw, and white-hot fire in her ankle.

“Shit,” followed by another string of profanities, curling in on herself.

The silver whistle blew again. Longer this time.

“Goddamn it!” Coach immediately calls it “Anderson, off the field before you become a lawsuit!”

Abby scowled, biting down her pride as she dragged herself upright with a limp. The walk off the field felt longer than the drill itself. She dropped onto the bench with a muted thud, sweat running down her back. Her ankle throbbed in time with her heartbeat. And then—because of course—the doors to the rec building swung open. She looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you.

You, stepping out of the building, hands shoved into your hoodie pockets, face drawn and unreadable. You didn’t look over. Of course you didn’t. Abby didn’t know if she wanted you to. But that didn’t stop her eyes from following you until you disappeared down the path toward the parking lot. The whistle blew again. Practice was already wrapping. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Hey, Romeo.” A cold thwack hit her knee. An ice pack.

Ellie plopped down beside her, the sleeves of her hoodie rolled up, sweat darkening the collar. “You planning on icing your ankle, or just the girl who won’t even look at you?”

Abby shot her a dry look. “Shut up.” But she pressed the ice to her ankle anyway, teeth clenched when the cold hit.

Ellie leaned back on her hands, watching the last stragglers leave the field. “You’ve been staring at her all practice.”

“I haven’t,” Abby said, eyes forward.

“If this is your way of dragging me out of that mixer—don’t bother,” she said, voice flat.

“You should sit it out anyway,” Ellie replied. “Rest. Sulk. Rant to someone who actually wants to hear about your emotional spiral.”

Abby snorted. “That would require someone wanting to talk to me in the first place.”

“You could talk to her,” Ellie offered, after a beat. “Crazy idea, I know.”

“I said I’m not interested.” The words fired out too fast, too defensive.

Her teammates Long arms threw themselves up, in surrender .“Alright, if you insist. But I’m not playing doctor all night.”

“I can handle myself—while you disappear into the night with you-know-who.”

“I’m not gonna dip—”

“You did last time. You think I didn’t notice the inside-out shirt when you came back down?”

“That wasn’t intentional! And yeah, okay—cockblocked me!”

Ellie shook her head with a reluctant, joined-in laugh. “I’m going to be by your side tonight. I promise.”

“Holding you to it.”

A simple reply “I didn’t think any less.”

“Good,” Abby muttered, adjusting her ice pack. The promise of Ellie’s company was some what comforting.

“So, about that mixer…” Ellie trailed off, glancing at the campus flyer board nearby. The neon sign advertising Outdoor Movie Night flickered, promising “A night under the stars with free popcorn and all the classics.”

Sitting on your bed, casually eating ice cream while scrolling through your phone, you paused the scrolling to look at a picture of you and Valeria. It was a bittersweet reminder of better times. The weight of it hit you for a moment, but you quickly pushed it aside. The room was only lit by the soft glow of the TV when, suddenly, a pair of eyes appeared in the dark hallway. The flick of a light switch followed, and the room brightened.

“Jesus! You scared me.” You leapt up, the metal spoon slipping from your fingers and splattering ice cream across the floor. “—Why are you dressed up?”

Josephine stood there, grinning like she just won the lottery. “I’m going to the mixer. Mind if I borrow this?” She waved a yellow top in front of you, clearly hoping for a response.

You rolled back onto your side of the bed, unamused. “Oh, you mean the mixer I’m not going to?” you muttered, not bothering to look up as you scooped another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

Josephine didn’t even flinch at your lack of enthusiasm. She threw the shirt onto the bed, ignoring your sigh. “Actually, no. I’m joining you. You’re coming with me to the mixer”

You groaned, clutching the ice cream tub tighter. “Why do I have to go? Can’t I just rot in peace?”

Josephine raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. “You don’t rot in peace. You overthink in peace. Come on, it’ll be fun. You can sulk and complain all you want, but you’re still going. Free popcorn”

“I hate you. I hate Dina. I hate—”

“Yes, yes. Get dressed, drama queen.” The blonde rolled her eyes. Holding up different options to throw on.

“What’s wrong with this?” You gestured to your current ensemble—an oversized tee and sleep shorts. “Don’t answer that. I’ll change.”

You eventually settled into the event, tucked into a spot on the edge of the crowd. The oversized tee was replaced with a cropped white top and jeans, eyeliner reapplied with more times than you could count. Honestly, already missing your ice cream at home.

Feel the drying of your throat, Reaching into a blue cooler nearby, you pulled the lid open only to find soda cans bobbing sadly in barely-cold water. With a blank stare you spoke up

“These are warm,” you muttered, turning to someone nearby.

“I’ll get some ice,” they offered, but you were already moving. Knowing you’d probably be faster “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

You didn’t see any overly familiar faces on your way to the nurse’s office, but you did pass Ellie, her hair a little messy, cheeks flushed from whatever activity she’d gotten pulled into. You clocked it but kept walking. Not my business,you thought.

Abby, meanwhile, sat watching the movie. The crowd laughed at a cheesy punchline, but she barely registered it, focused instead on the warm weight of her now useless ice pack. She turned, ready to whisper for Ellie—

“Ellie, can you—”

But her seat was empty. She scoffed. “So much for promises.” Knowing she’ll ring her neck later.

With a resigned sigh, she stood and headed for the building. The hallway lights flickered as you tapped the switch a few times. Eventually, the room lit up—a hum from the ancient freezer in the corner, where bags of ice jutted out. You tugged one free just as the door creaked behind you.

Footsteps. A flicker of movement. You turned, and Eye contact.

It took you a beat to realize it was her. Abby. The light casting sharp shadows across her features. But you broke eye contact first, shifting your weight as if the awkwardness might evaporate if you pretended it wasn’t there.

You both moved quietly around each other, but your shoulder still brushed hers—brief, unintentional, but it certainly happened.

Your eyes dropped to her ankle, wrapped and clearly stiff. Should you ask?

“Are you following me now?” she asked, flatly.

You didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Abby. I planned my entire day around bumping into you and your broken foot at this exact moment.”

“It’s a rolled ankle,” she replied, dry. Choosing not to give the rest attention.

You glanced over her expression, unable to help the way Your mind flicked to the frat party. The flirting. The hands. The way you let her. The way it all fell apart moments later. What about you screamed ‘easy’. Did you overreact? No, she was being an ass and you had a rough few weeks. Unsure if that’s just justification The silence buzzed around yourself.

Watching as she shifted away from you to remake the ice pack for her foot. Your own task seeming less important, stepping back a little so she could finish.

The silence buzzed in your ears.

You watched as she shifted away to remake the ice pack for her foot. Your own task suddenly felt irrelevant. You stepped back a little to give her room.

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” she said quietly, the rustle of ice filling the space between you.

Your eyes darted away. “I’m not looking at you at all,” you bit back.

She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t take the bait. The usual sarcasm died on her tongue. Instead, she just gave a curt nod. “Good.”

She wrapped the ice pack, tying a makeshift brace around her foot. When she was done, she stepped back and eased herself down to sit near the door. Her gaze flickered to you, then away. Abby leaned back against the wall, the weight of the moment settling between you. She’d only come here for ice—but now?

Now it felt like something else. A sigh slipped from her lips.

“Are—dude, are you still mad about the party?”

“Who said I was mad?” You grabbed your own bag of ice from the freezer, trying to act casual.

Abby raised an eyebrow, her gaze skeptical. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” She shifted her weight, wincing slightly as her ankle throbbed. “So forgive me for thinking you might be just a little annoyed.”

“You’re not that important for me to be upset over,” you said with a shrug, forcing a smile as you closed the freezer door.

Abby let out a quiet, almost resigned laugh. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You didn’t say anything at first, just glanced away, suddenly aware of the silence hanging between you two. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, and it felt like you had to look away before the tension turned into something worse.

“Good talk,” you muttered, taking a step back, but Abby’s quiet chuckle stopped you.

“Yeah. Real nice.”

Before you could reply, Ellie poked her head into the room, her eyes bouncing between you and Abby. “Abs—everything’s… good?”

You didn’t answer, but Abby nodded, her jaw tight.

You didn’t look back. Just grabbed your bag and brushed past them both.

“Just catching up with old mistakes,” you said quietly.

“Ouch,” Ellie said, raising an eyebrow. “You two still doing that?”

“Apparently.” You heard the sarcasm in her m voice, as it fainted the further you got from the door.

“Yeah, so much for talking it out,” Ellie muttered, her gaze lingering a second too long before she turned and left.

[the-oblivious-writer]

With Her I Die |10|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Ten: Ready or Not

warnings: emotional distress/grief, references to death, abandonment trauma, and - once again - shauna is still very much pregnant.

note(s): i love working on the adult timeline.

taglist: @morganismspam23 @slutforabbyanderson

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

The note lay in the center of the empty lean-to, three words scrawled hastily on a torn piece of paper:

I'm sorry.

Misty found it just after dawn when she came to check on you, a gesture born less from concern and more from curiosity. You'd become something of a spectacle over the past few days—the girl who survived the fever only to exile herself from the group, the one who'd broken whatever strange spell had formed between you and Shauna.

"Well, shit," she muttered, picking up the note between her fingers as if it might bite. She glanced around the lean-to, taking inventory of what remained: nothing. Not your knife, not your extra pair of socks, not even the small carved animal Javi had made for you when you were sick.

Gone. All of it. All of you.

For a moment, Misty considered pocketing the note, wondering what kind of drama might unfold if she controlled this particular piece of information. But something in those two simple words—I'm sorry—made her hesitate. This wasn't a game. This was real, and dangerous, and potentially deadly.

"Fuck," she sighed.

------

"What do you mean, gone?" Taissa's voice cut through the morning air, sharp with disbelief. "Gone where?"

Misty held out the note, now slightly crumpled from her tight grip. "Just this. Nothing else."

The small group gathered outside the lean-to stared at the paper as if it might suddenly reveal more information. Nat snatched it first, her eyes scanning the brief message before passing it to Tai.

"How long?" Tai asked, looking to Misty.

Misty shrugged, adjusting her glasses. "No idea. I came to check on her this morning and..." She gestured to the empty space around them. "Poof. Vanished."

"She can't have gotten far," Travis said, already scanning the tree line as if expecting to see you emerge at any moment. "Not in the dark, not alone."

"You don't know her," Nat muttered, kicking at the dirt with the toe of her boot. "She's been hunting with us. She knows the woods."

"Not well enough!" The voice came from behind them, strained and tight with barely contained panic.

They turned to find Shauna standing at the edge of the clearing, one hand braced against a tree trunk for support, the other curved protectively over her swollen belly. Her face was pale, eyes wide with something that went beyond simple worry.

"Not well enough," she repeated, softer now. "She got lost three days ago just trying to find the stream."

No one mentioned that it had been during your fever recovery, that disorientation was to be expected. No one needed to. The implication hung in the air, heavy as storm clouds.

"We need to look for her," Shauna said, already moving toward the tree line. "Now. Before the trail gets cold."

Tai and Nat exchanged a glance, a silent communication passing between them. It was Tai who stepped forward, placing a gentle but firm hand on Shauna's arm.

"Shauna, you need to stay here."

"Like hell I do," Shauna snapped, trying to pull away. "She's out there alone because of me, because I couldn't—"

"Because you're nine months pregnant," Tai interrupted, her voice leaving no room for argument. "You can barely walk to the stream and back without getting winded. You're not going anywhere."

Shauna's face crumpled, anger giving way to something more vulnerable, more raw. "I can't just sit here while she's out there."

"You can, and you will." Nat stepped up beside Tai, presenting a united front. "We'll find her. You stay here in case she comes back on her own."

It was a hollow reassurance, and they all knew it. If you had wanted to come back, you wouldn't have left in the first place. Wouldn't have packed up every trace of yourself. Wouldn't have written that awful, insufficient note.

Shauna seemed to deflate, the fight leaving her in a long exhale. "At least take Lottie with you. She..." She swallowed hard, the admission clearly difficult. "She knows things sometimes. About where people are."

Tai's expression tightened—she'd never been comfortable with Lottie's uncanny moments of insight—but she nodded. "Fine. Lottie comes too."

As the group dispersed to prepare for the search, Shauna remained rooted to the spot, staring at the empty lean-to as if she could will you back into existence through sheer force of need.

Nat lingered, watching her with a mixture of concern and frustration. "This isn't your fault," she said finally.

Shauna let out a bitter laugh. "Isn't it? I pushed too hard. Wanted too much."

"She was spiraling, Shauna. Whatever was going on in her head after that fever—it wasn't about you. Not really."

"Then why did it feel like she was looking right through me?" Shauna's voice cracked slightly. "Like I was the one thing she couldn't stand to see anymore?"

Nat had no answer for that. She reached out awkwardly, squeezing Shauna's shoulder once before turning to join the others. "We'll find her," she promised over her shoulder, the words hollower with each repetition.

Shauna didn't respond, her attention already drifting back to the note clutched in her hand, to those two words that explained nothing and everything at once.

I'm sorry.

The search party set out just after breakfast, equipped with what little they could spare—water, a few strips of jerky, a compass Nat had managed to keep hidden from the others. Travis took the lead, Nat and Lottie flanking him, with Van and Akilah bringing up the rear.

Tai had wanted to come, but someone needed to stay behind with the younger ones. With Shauna. It was an unspoken agreement among them—don't leave Shauna alone, not now, not with the baby coming any day and her mind fracturing under the weight of this new loss.

"Which way?" Travis asked once they reached the edge of the clearing, looking to Lottie.

The girl closed her eyes, that familiar, unsettling stillness settling over her features. The others waited, shifting uncomfortably, none of them quite believing but none willing to dismiss her either.

"North," Lottie finally said, opening her eyes. "Toward the ridge."

Nat frowned. "That doesn't make sense. The ridge is exposed, dangerous. Why would she go that way?"

"Because she doesn't want to be found," Lottie replied simply, her gaze drifting toward the distant rise of land barely visible above the tree line. "She went where she thought no one would follow."

A heavy silence fell over the group, the implication clear. If you'd gone to the ridge, it wasn't just to get away. It was to ensure you stayed away.

"Let's go," Travis said gruffly, adjusting his grip on the hunting knife strapped to his belt. "We're burning daylight."

As they moved deeper into the forest, following Lottie's lead, Nat found herself thinking about the last conversation she'd had with you—her accusations, your defensive retreat. The way she'd walked away thinking you'd come to your senses eventually.

She should have known better. Should have recognized the look in your eyes for what it was—not just anger or fear, but resolve. The decision already made.

"I told her she was being an asshole," Nat said suddenly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the group.

Travis glanced back at her, eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Yesterday. I found her moving her stuff to the lean-to and I told her she was being an asshole to Shauna." Nat kicked at a fallen branch in their path. "Told her she was throwing away the only good thing left out here."

"You couldn't have known," Akilah offered from behind them.

But Nat shook her head. "I pushed her. Just like Shauna did. Just like everyone's been doing since Jackie died. Like she was some fucking science experiment—how much pressure can she take before she breaks?"

"She didn't break," Lottie said, her voice distant, dreamy. "She chose."

None of them had a response to that.

Back at the cabin, Shauna sat motionless on the edge of her mattress, staring at the empty space where yours had been. Hours had passed since the search party left, the sun now high overhead, bathing the interior in harsh light that caught every dust mote, every imperfection.

Her hand moved absently over her belly, feeling the restless shifting of the baby inside. It had been active today, more so than usual, as if sensing her distress.

"She's not coming back, is she?" Shauna asked the empty room, her voice sounding strange in the silence.

Tai, who had been keeping a quiet vigil from the doorway, stepped inside. "We don't know that."

"I do." Shauna's fingers traced the edge of the note she'd read so many times the words had lost their meaning. "She's been trying to leave for weeks. I just didn't want to see it."

Tai moved to sit beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under their combined weight. "People say things they don't mean when they're hurting. Do things they regret."

"This isn't like that." Shauna finally looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. "After the fever broke, something was different. Like she could suddenly see everything clearly, and what she saw..." She swallowed hard. "What she saw was me, suffocating her."

"Shauna—"

"No, it's true. I was so afraid of losing her like I lost Jackie that I held on too tight. And the tighter I held, the more she pulled away."

Tai was quiet for a moment, considering. "Maybe," she finally conceded. "Or maybe the fever fucked with her head more than we realized. People do strange things when they're not thinking clearly."

"She was thinking clearly," Shauna insisted. "For the first time since we got stranded out here, she was seeing things exactly as they are. She was seeing me exactly as I am."

The bitterness in her voice made Tai wince. "And what's that?"

"Desperate. Needy. Trying to replace one dead girl with another."

The harsh assessment hung in the air between them, too raw to immediately address. Tai reached for Shauna's hand, squeezing it once. "That's not fair. To you or to her."

Shauna didn't pull away, but she didn't return the pressure either, her hand limp in Tai's grasp. "Isn't it? Be honest, Tai. You've seen how I've been with her. Ever since Jackie."

Tai sighed, choosing her words carefully. "I've seen two people clinging to each other in a fucked-up situation. I've seen you care for someone who needed it. And yes, maybe sometimes that care was... intense. But it wasn't one-sided, Shauna. She needed you just as much."

"Until she didn't."

The simplicity of the statement made it impossible to argue with. Tai released Shauna's hand, recognizing that there was nothing she could say to ease this particular wound.

"They'll find her," she said instead, the closest thing to comfort she could offer.

Shauna nodded, the gesture automatic, empty. "And then what? Drag her back here against her will? Force her to stay with people she obviously wants to get away from?"

The question had no good answer, and they both knew it.

Outside, the day continued its relentless progression, shadows shifting as the sun moved across the sky. Inside, time seemed suspended, caught in the amber of Shauna's grief.

By mid-afternoon, the search party had reached the base of the ridge, a steep, rocky incline that marked the boundary of their usual hunting territory. They'd found signs of passage—a broken branch here, a disturbed patch of earth there—but nothing conclusive, nothing that couldn't have been caused by wildlife or their own previous excursions.

"We should split up," Travis suggested, surveying the terrain ahead. "Cover more ground."

Nat shook her head firmly. "Bad idea. We get separated out here, we might never find each other again."

"We're running out of time," Travis argued, gesturing to the sun's position. "Another few hours and it'll be dark. We'll have to head back."

The unspoken reality hung between them—if they didn't find you before nightfall, the chances of finding you at all diminished dramatically. One night alone in the wilderness was survivable. Two, maybe, if you were lucky, skilled. Beyond that...

"We keep going," Nat decided, shouldering her pack. "Together. Up the ridge. If Lottie's right, that's where she went."

No one questioned Lottie's guidance, not anymore. Not when they had so little else to go on.

The climb was arduous, the rocky terrain unforgiving. They moved in silence, conserving energy, each lost in their own thoughts. What they would say when they found you. If they found you. How they would convince you to come back, or if they even should.

Halfway up, Van paused, squinting at something ahead. "Wait," she called, pointing to a small outcropping. "Is that...?"

Nat followed her gaze, heart lurching painfully when she spotted it—a scrap of fabric caught on a jagged rock, fluttering in the light breeze.

They scrambled forward, Travis reaching it first. He carefully untangled the fabric—unmistakably a piece of the flannel shirt you'd been wearing when you left.

"Could've ripped it passing by," he said, examining the torn edge. "Doesn't mean she fell."

But they all heard the uncertainty in his voice, saw the way his eyes darted to the steep drop beyond the outcropping. A fall from here wouldn't necessarily be fatal, but it would mean injury, exposure, limited mobility.

It would mean they needed to find you, and fast.

"Spread out," Nat ordered, scanning the area below the outcropping. "Look for any sign of disturbance. Broken branches, disturbed earth, blood."

The last word hung in the air, ugly and unavoidable.

They worked methodically, combing the area foot by foot. The sun continued its westward journey, shadows lengthening, the air growing cooler with the approach of evening.

It was Akilah who found the next clue—a partial bootprint in a patch of soft earth near the base of a large boulder. Small, definitely human, heading not down as they'd feared, but along the ridge, following its natural contour.

"She's still moving," Akilah announced, relief evident in her voice. "And recently too. This hasn't been rained on or disturbed much."

A collective exhale passed through the group, tension easing slightly. You hadn't fallen. You were still on the move. Still alive, at least as of whenever you'd left that print.

"Which way was she heading?" Travis asked, examining the faint impression in the dirt.

Akilah pointed north, toward the far end of the ridge where it gradually descended back into forest. "That way. Away from camp."

Away from them. Away from Shauna.

"We should keep going," Van urged, already moving in the direction Akilah indicated. "We might be close."

But Nat hesitated, looking at the position of the sun, now noticeably lower in the western sky. "We don't have time. It'll be dark in a couple hours, and we're already pushing it to make it back to camp before then."

"So we make camp out here," Travis suggested. "Continue in the morning."

Nat shook her head, hating the decision even as she made it. "We can't. We didn't bring enough supplies for an overnight. And the others will worry if we don't come back."

"We can't just leave her out here!" Van protested, gesturing to the wilderness stretching beyond the ridge. "She's alone, maybe hurt—"

"She chose to be alone," Nat cut in, the words sharper than intended. "And from what we've seen, she's not hurt. She's moving purposefully, away from us."

The truth of it silenced Van's objections. This wasn't a rescue mission anymore. It was a pursuit, and an increasingly futile one.

"We'll come back tomorrow," Nat decided, hating every word. "First light. With more supplies, better prepared."

No one looked happy about the decision, but no one argued further. They marked the spot where they'd found the bootprint, using rocks to create an arrow pointing in the direction they'd need to follow.

As they began the journey back to camp, the mood was somber, heavy with the knowledge that they were leaving one of their own behind in the wilderness. By choice—both yours and theirs.

Lottie, who had been unnervingly quiet throughout most of the search, finally spoke as they descended from the ridge. "She doesn't want to be found," she said, her voice carrying in the still evening air. "Not yet."

"What does that mean?" Nat demanded, rounding on her. "'Not yet'?"

Lottie's eyes were distant, focused on something none of them could see. "It means she's not ready to come back. She's looking for something out there."

"Looking for what?" Travis asked, skepticism clear in his tone.

Lottie shrugged, that maddening half-smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Herself, maybe. Or something she lost. I don't know. But she's not ready to be found."

Nat wanted to shake her, to demand more concrete answers, but she knew it would be useless. Lottie's insights, when they came, were always frustratingly cryptic, impossible to force or direct.

"Well, ready or not, we're finding her tomorrow," Nat said firmly, turning back to the path ahead. "Before something else does."

Twilight was settling over the camp when they returned, empty-handed and exhausted. Shauna was waiting outside the main cabin, her vigil seemingly unbroken since they'd left that morning. At the sight of them—just them, no you—her face crumpled briefly before she schooled it back into a mask of control.

"Nothing?" she asked, though the answer was obvious.

Nat stepped forward, the unofficial bearer of bad news. "We found signs. A piece of her shirt. A bootprint. She was heading north along the ridge."

"Was?" Shauna caught the past tense immediately.

"Is," Nat corrected. "She's still moving, as far as we can tell. We had to turn back before dark, but we'll go out again tomorrow. First light."

Shauna nodded, the gesture mechanical, her eyes fixed on the darkening tree line as if she might catch a glimpse of you emerging from the shadows.

"She left a note," she said suddenly, pulling the crumpled paper from her pocket. "Just 'I'm sorry.' That's all." She looked up at them, her expression raw, vulnerable in a way that made them all uncomfortable. "Sorry for what? For leaving? For... for everything with Jackie? For us?"

None of them had an answer. Travis shifted awkwardly, mumbling something about checking the snares before slipping away. Akilah and Van exchanged glances, then followed his lead, murmuring promises to help with the search tomorrow.

Only Nat remained, watching as Shauna continued to stare at the note as if it might suddenly reveal new information, new meaning.

"She's alive, Shauna," Nat said quietly. "She's moving with purpose. That's what matters right now."

Shauna looked up, something hardening in her expression. "Is it? Is that all that matters?"

Nat hesitated, unsure how to navigate this new territory. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe we should let her go." The words seemed to cost Shauna physically, each one dragged from somewhere deep and painful. "If this is what she wants—to be away from us, from me—then who are we to drag her back?"

"Shauna, she's one person alone in the wilderness. The chances of survival—"

"I know the odds," Shauna cut in. "Probably better than you do. I've been calculating them since the plane went down. Since Jackie died. Since every fucking thing that's happened out here." She pressed a hand to her belly, wincing slightly. "But maybe it's not our choice to make. Maybe it's hers."

Nat stared at her, trying to reconcile this fatalistic acceptance with the desperate, hovering Shauna of the past weeks. "You can't be serious."

"I'm just tired, Nat." Shauna's voice cracked slightly. "Tired of holding on so tight that I break things. Tired of needing people who don't need me back."

There was something alarming in her tone, a defeat that went beyond simple exhaustion. Nat stepped closer, really looking at her for the first time since their return. Shauna's face was pale, drawn, a sheen of sweat visible despite the cool evening air.

"Are you okay?" Nat asked, concern sharpening her voice. "You don't look good."

Shauna let out a short, humorless laugh. "Thanks. Always the charmer."

"I'm serious, Shauna. How long have you been standing out here? Have you eaten anything today?"

"I'm fine." But even as she said it, Shauna swayed slightly, one hand reaching out to steady herself against the cabin wall. "Just tired. And my back's been killing me all day."

Alarm bells went off in Nat's head. "Your back? Where exactly?"

Shauna gestured vaguely to her lower back. "Here. It comes and goes. It's nothing."

But Nat was already moving forward, taking Shauna's arm and guiding her firmly toward the cabin door. "It's not nothing. How long have you been having these pains?"

"I don't know. Since this morning? They've gotten worse, but—" Shauna stopped mid-sentence, her face contorting in a grimace as another wave of pain visibly washed over her.

"Fuck," Nat muttered, supporting more of Shauna's weight as they crossed the threshold into the cabin. "Tai! Van! Anyone!"

Her shout brought a flurry of activity—Tai emerging from the back room, Misty appearing from nowhere as she always seemed to do when there was a crisis.

"What's happening?" Tai demanded, rushing to Shauna's other side.

"I think the baby's coming," Nat said grimly, helping ease Shauna onto her mattress.

"No," Shauna protested weakly. "It's too early. It can't be now. Not when she's still out there. Not when—" Her words cut off in a sharp gasp, hands clutching at her belly.

"Early or not, it's happening," Misty announced, already pushing her sleeves up with an eagerness that would have been disturbing in any other situation. "Someone get clean water. And the medical kit. And any extra blankets or clothing we have."

As the cabin erupted into controlled chaos around her, Shauna stared at the ceiling, tears sliding silently from the corners of her eyes. Not from the pain—though that was substantial, building with each contraction—but from the crushing certainty that you wouldn't be here for this. That you had chosen the vast emptiness of the wilderness over her, over them, over whatever fragile connection had formed between you in the wake of Jackie's death.

"It's too soon," she whispered, though no one was listening anymore, all of them too focused on preparations. "She's supposed to be here. She promised she'd be here for this."

But promises, like everything else out here, had proven as insubstantial as morning mist. As fleeting as your presence in her life—intense and all-consuming one moment, gone the next.

Another contraction gripped her, stronger than the last, forcing all other thoughts from her mind. Distantly, she heard Tai barking orders, felt Misty's hands on her, checking, preparing.

"Breathe, Shauna," someone instructed—Van, maybe, or Akilah. "Just breathe through it."

As if breathing could fix this. As if anything could fix the hollow ache in her chest, the space you'd occupied now gaping and raw. As if bringing new life into this wilderness wasn't the cruelest irony when she couldn't even hold onto the lives already here.

The next contraction hit with stunning force, stealing her breath, arching her back off the mattress.

"Her water broke," Misty announced, the excitement in her voice barely contained. "It's really happening."

Shauna closed her eyes, surrendering to the relentless rhythm of her body's demands. Outside, darkness had fallen completely, the forest reclaiming its territory inch by inch. Somewhere in that darkness, you were out there. Moving away with each step. Lost to her, maybe forever.

And here she was, bringing new life into a world that seemed determined to take everything else away.

"I can't do this," she gasped between contractions, reaching blindly for someone, anyone to anchor her. "Not without her. I can't."

But her body had other ideas, the primal force of birth caring nothing for her heart's desires. Another contraction seized her, more powerful than any before, the pressure building unbearably.

"Yes, you can," Tai's voice reached her through the haze of pain, steady and certain. "You're doing it right now. And we're here with you. All of us."

All except the one person she wanted most. The one who had walked away into the wilderness, leaving nothing but those two inadequate words behind.

I'm sorry.

As the next contraction crashed over her like a wave, Shauna surrendered to the inevitable, to the inescapable forward momentum of life continuing, even in the face of loss. Even in the face of abandonment. Even here, in this desolate corner of nowhere, where nothing had gone as planned from the moment their plane had fallen from the sky.

The baby was coming, ready or not. And you were gone, choice made and path taken.

And Shauna, caught between these two immovable truths, had no choice but to breathe, and push, and somehow find a way to keep living in the space between what was and what might have been.

[starrihan]

&TEAM Hyung line reaction to their crush having no choice but to sit on their lap. (Like in the car and there isn’t enough seats or during a movie night, etc.)

Oh what I would do to sit on their laps 😔

-> each members parts are about ~600-800 words long! im sorry this took so long but multiple member reactions tend to take the longest time for me to make😅 but i hope you enjoyed this nonetheless!!

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

K:

You were so happy to be volunteering at the annual cherry blossom festival. You needed more opportunities to showcase your instrumental abilities, and the festival hosts needed many people to sing and perform throughout the day. Thanks to the amazing weather recently, the cherry blossoms bloomed faster than projected, ensuring this year’s turn out to be the biggest it's been in years. You were excited but very nervous to say the least. 

You were told that you could do whatever you would like to for your performance, opting to play the piano and sing some traditional songs. You had spent weeks preparing for the festival, wanting to be able to put on the best performance you could. You had met some of the other people who were volunteering as well, especially noticing one of the guys that was going to be doing a dance performance. He told you to call him K, and you met up with him a couple of times in the months leading up to the festival to practice and critique each other at a nearby university’s music room.  

Somewhere over the course of you guys keeping up with these practices, you felt very comfortable with him, finding yourself blushing at any minor compliment or feedback he would give you. He would notice, playing it up just to see the cute smile spread across your face whenever he could. He didn’t hesitate to make you blush, loving the way your face flushed and knowing it was all for him. It would be little touches at first, helping you adjust your sheet music or helping you with your finger placements on the piano, each time you’d grow a little hotter, and your hands a little sweatier. 

About a week before the festival, you found yourself practicing with K yet again, but this time, you were irritated. The seat you normally used when practicing the piano had been taken out and exchanged for a shorter, less stable seat that made playing the piano an inconvenience. You didn’t have much of a choice though, the other rooms on the floor being locked without an authorized staff’s keycard to open it. K watched as you constantly stretched your knees and back, getting up more time than usual to relieve the pain that was building in your muscles and joints. 

After about 4 hours of practicing, you couldn’t take the pain anymore. You stood up, once again stretching your body to try and relieve the pain, but to no avail. You needed to relax with proper back support. K had stopped too, smirking to himself when an idea popped into his head. He quickly made his way over to the seat you were previously sitting in, watching your face morph from that of pain to confusion. 

“C’mere,”

He says. You slowly walk up to him, still confused as he pats his thighs. 

“Sit on my lap. I might have an idea to help your pain.”

Your face is beet red at his suggestion, and he notices the gears turning in your brain at what you think he’s implying. 

“I don’t mean anything weird by it, promise.”

And while that wasn’t his full intention, he wasn’t going to stop you if things took a different turn. You hesitated for a second longer before agreeing, not wanting to look at him anymore to save face and carefully sitting on his lap. He adjusts you accordingly, shifting his legs behind yours before lifting them up and keeping his back straight. You feel yourself slip above his clothes dick, making indirect contact with it through your pants, but letting out a sigh of relief as he helps you stretch your legs out. You can feel his breath on your neck, yelping a little as he leans back, taking you with him as he lowers his legs to help you stretch out your back. The heat radiating off of your clothed core at every little movement from him has you constantly making little sounds.

“Are you feeling relaxed?”

He leans back up, putting you both back in your original positions as his breath seems somehow closer to your ear now.

“Yeah… Thank you.”

You say, keeping yourself seated as you feel his bulge now, not wanting to miss the feeling as you pretend to adjust yourself. His hands tightly grip your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“Yeah, you really are relaxed, huh? Pretending to adjust so you can grind yourself down on me?”

You knew you were caught, but you didn’t really care. You had caught on to his antics too, finally deciding to act on it. 

“I wasn’t pretending, but I can get up if you’d like–”

You say, starting to lift yourself off of him.

“–don’t even think about it.”

༄ ༄ ༄

Fuma:

You were called in to help the boys with their dance practice and even to help some of them in their vocal lessons. You had helped with the choreography for their new song first, helping them perfect the intricacies of the dance as a team, ensuring their uniformity for performances without pushing them too hard. They were all really grateful to you, you were much nicer than their other instructors and a better teacher as well. You would call the members out one by one for vocal training, letting them leave after working with them if they chose to do so. 

The day had gone from bright and sunny to wet and dreary as big rain drops pelted at the windows of the building. You sighed as you called in Fuma, the last member you needed to work with for the day, and warned the boys about the impending storm. You had been working with them for a while now, knowing that they wouldn’t heed your warnings but wanting to let them know anyways. That’s why you were their favorite– you always looked out for them. You started your lessons with Fuma. He didn’t have much difficulty with his parts so the session went by quickly, wrapping up only about 20 minutes later. 

During that time, the weather had picked up severely, raining harder than before and wind blowing gusts so strong that the trees were at risk of falling. You were even more worried now, walking back to the practice room with Fuma and noticing that no one was left in the room. You sighed, not knowing whether or not they had left before the storm got worse, but now worrying if it was safe enough to leave. Fuma searched his pockets, looking for his phone before realizing that he left it in the vocal practicing room. 

“Hey Y/N, can you let me into the vocal room? I left my phone and keycard in there…”

He laughs nervously, following you as you nod and let him back in, letting the door close behind you. He grabs his phone, a look of relief washing over him. 

“The others made it back safely, I guess it's just me here. I’m gonna wait until the storm is over before heading back.”

You nod, happy that the others were safe as a loud thunder clap sounds throughout the building. You jump a little, caught off guard at the sound when the lights go out. You look around in disbelief, scanning your card and trying hard to open the door but to no avail. The thunder must've knocked out the power, and the backup generators would take at least a little while to kick back on. You sigh as Fuma turns his flashlight on, smiling reassuringly that everything will be okay. 

He takes a seat on the only chair in the room as you pace back and forth, legs starting to hurt after helping them dance for so long. But you didn’t want to say anything to Fuma, knowing he was also tired and not wanting him to have to give up his seat. But he noticed the way your legs would slightly buckle at the pain they felt. 

“If it’s okay with you, you can sit on my lap…”

He offers and you’re thankful his flashlight doesn’t catch your blush. You sit on his lap, trying your best to sit as comfortably as you can. But it doesn’t last long when another clap of thunder rumbles, causing you to flinch back into him more, directly over his clothes cock. He chuckles as your flinch effectively has you grind into him. 

“Scared of thunderstorms?”

He asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs to try to calm you down, but they only work you up more, especially with how aware you were of what you were sitting on. 

“A little…”

“I can help distract you from them if you’d like?”

He suggests, and you know exactly what he’s thinking with the way his fingers rub circles into your hips. Hopefully the generator doesn’t kick on anytime soon. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Nicholas:

You were told that you needed to go with Nicholas, Jo and Maki to their photo shoot because the makeup artist scheduled for today had gotten sick. You quickly got ready, staring at the message that said they would be there in an hour to pick you up. It was pretty short notice, being woken up at 5 in the morning telling you to be ready by 6. You barely had time to wash and dry your hair, hurrying down the stairs of your apartment building.

You’re huffing and puffing by the time you get down there, not realizing how cold it actually was and regretting the decision to put on a skirt. Stepping into the car you noticed that Maki and Jo were sleeping in the 2 seats in the middle row, breathing fogging up the car windows and leaving only the back seat with Nicholas open. You tried to be quiet so as not to disturb the boys, only to realize that the space next to Nicholas had been taken up by the equipment being brought to the photo shoot studio.

Nicholas tried to make space for you, but ultimately you both agreed that sitting on his lap would be the best option, the equipment far too big and wedged into place to move them around quietly. You were nervous to be sitting on Nicholas’s lap, both because you didn’t have a seatbelt on but also because you had the biggest crush on Nicholas. He was holding your waist securely so you didn’t move, warm breath hitting the back of your neck.

At first, it was fine because the roads were smooth and there was no traffic in the way. The site was about an hour away, so you tried your best to relax and get comfortable, as much as you could. The car ride was quiet for the first couple of minutes, Nicholas himself also being very sleepy and relaxed. But when the roads got bumpier, you couldn’t help but let out little noises every time the car jolted, his hips involuntarily jerking up each time. You were directly between his legs too, just barely able to feel his dick through his sweats, but the more bumps the car hit and the sounds you made, the harder it was for him to control how his dick hardened underneath you. His hand moved from your waist to your thigh, gripping it firmly.

“ ‘f you keep moaning like that,”

He murmured lowly, voice rasped with sleep and something heavier,

 “I’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

Your face flushes, heat pooling at your cheeks, clenching around nothing at his words.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Really? Then why do you keep moaning and pushing your hips further onto my dick?”

You hadn’t noticed yourself subtly grinding on him, pleasure hidden between your nerves. You look back at him, a dark look clouding his hooded eyes, fingers slowly trialing up your skirt and above your clit, pressing against the fabric of your panties.

“It’s like you were doing this on purpose? Grinding down on me while wearing a skirt because you know it’d be easy access. And no safety shorts either? You’re a naughty girl.”

You clasp the hand that’s going towards your clit, staring straight into his eyes.

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you here, but you gotta help me once we get to the studio. I can’t take pictures with my dick hard.”

You swallowed, your heart racing wildly as you just barely nodded. A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth, fingers continuing their way up. 

༄ ༄ ༄

Euijoo:

Movie nights were common amongst you and the boys. They were on a short hiatus, being able to spend about 3 days off. They were all so grateful, but since their break was so short, Euijoo and Nicholas didn’t fly home. Of course they were a little bummed, but all the members decided to spend the night together, watching a movie at the dorm.

As K’s little sister, you were friends with all the boys and visited often. Especially with Nicholas and Euijoo, being the same age as them. They invited you to join them, all thinking of you as a sister to them as well, except Euijoo. He never said it out loud, but everyone could tell by the way he would stare at you whenever you walked in, smiling and ears red whenever you’d go up to him to give him food you had brought.

He was especially dense because you had given him numerous hints that you like him. You’d always get dressed up to see him, always giving him his food first, even before K, and even bringing him food separate from the other members because you knew what he liked. You thought that maybe he had gotten the hint by now. But you were also dense for not noticing his feelings for you either.

Upon arriving at their dorm, you were welcomed by Euijoo, who you smiled at and opened your arms to give him a hug. He always accepted them with a blush on his face, sighing as he lingered a little too long to take in your scent. You pulled away first, stepping inside and putting the bags of food on the table. They literally cheered, happy that the food was here so that you could start watching the movie.

You went to the bathroom first, everyone situating themselves either on the sofa or the floor. When you walked out, you noticed that there were no seats left. You looked at them, expressionless.

“Where do I sit?”

Little did you both know the boys had this all planned out. You look over to K who’s looking at Euijoo, a smirk present on his face.

“There’s some room next to Euijoo, if he scooches over.”

He immediately begins to scrunch up to the side of the single couch, trying his best to make some room for you. You glare at K, maneuvering through the tangle of legs on the floor and trying your best to fit in the limited space he had provided. Ultimately, you ended up sitting on his legs, body sprawled horizontally over him as your legs dangled off of the seat.

Of course they picked your least favorite genre, horror. You felt bad, constantly jolting at jump scares, and resulting in Euijoo jolting up into you. He had his hands awkwardly placed on your thighs, and you could tell he was nervous by the way they radiated heat, obviously sweaty. But it’s because his hips bucked into your leg at each jump you made, trying his best to calm his hard-on down. But his efforts fail as you cuddle up to him, hiding your face in his shoulder as you hug his upper body, position shifting to where your ass is directly over his hardening length.

He can tell that you can feel it by the way your grip on his shirt tightens. He rambles nervously in your ear, afraid of what you might say or think.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to but I can’t control it you probably think I’m a creep or a weirdo but really I didn’t want for this to happen I’ve just liked you for so long and…”

He cuts himself off when he feels you push your ass down on him, resulting in him biting his lip to suppress a whimper. He squeezes your thigh, thankful for the blanket covering you both so the boys can’t see what’s going on.

“I like you too, Juju. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on sooner.”

You whisper back into his ear, pretending to be scared and occasionally looking back at the screen, but you’re constantly moving on him, making it harder for him to hold back as he trails his fingers towards your spreading heat. What a way to distract you from a horror movie, just have to be quiet not to alert the other members.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: softness, drama, nervousness, fluff, angst, hurt, your heart will clench, the younger ones (not so young) make an appearance, someone else does too

wc: 10.3k

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long! I didn't proofread this much, but, well... these next chapters are where everything starts falling into place. The omegaverse, will start omegaversing after this one.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 24

You couldn’t believe where you were going.

You couldn’t even believe you were invited. This could also have happened even if you hadn’t slept with Eddie to begin with, but you couldn't help but feel honored and hopeful. He invited everyone in the group, and now you were in your brand new car, a Toyota, picked out by Eddie himself, driving into Hawkins.

“There’s literally no buildings… Like, no apartments and stuff…” You mentioned as you passed the downtown, while Robin hummed next to you, pointing at a particular one that looked like a three story complex.

“The apartment buildings here are small. You won’t ever see more than four story buildings around here.” She explained and you nodded as you kept your eyes on the road. It looked nice, homely. The stores looked like they were stuck in time, which only made it even more appealing. 

“Must be a quiet little place to live in.” Robin chuckled as she laid back in the passenger’s seat, her phone in hand with the GPS on.

“Nah, we always found a way to make a mess somewhere. Especially Eddie.” Your heart skipped a beat and Robin noticed how you straightened yourself in your seat and she smirked your way. “Really? Just by saying his fucking name?”

“I– What?”

“You’re whipped. Gone. It looks cute, but at the same time, chill.” She said and you scoffed, stopping at a red light. Your head snapped to look at her with a frown in your face.

“I’m not that whipped.” Robin just stared at you with a poker face, silently asking you ‘really?’. You groaned with a sigh, laying back on the driver’s seat, running your hands over your face. “I didn’t think he would invite me.”

“Why not? It would be really stupid and disrespectful for him not to invite you, when he had his dick in every hole of yours–”

“Robin!” You gasped, your hands flying off your face to see Robin smiling at you.

“Why are you having a nervous breakdown now?” She asked and you sighed, noticing the light turning yellow. You started driving once it turned green again, looking over at Robin’s GPS for a second to look at the road, and then look forward once more.

“I– It’s… What if he doesn’t like me? I mean, Eddie didn��t like me when he first met me, so, maybe, it’s genetics, you know?” You could feel your throat closing up a bit when you talked. You had been a wreck when Eddie dropped the news to you. You cleaned your house a million times to keep yourself distracted, tried on many outfits, even if you were staying for just a few hours. You wanted it to be perfect, and to be liked.

“Oh my god… Wayne will like you. I promise you that. He respects anyone that puts Eddie in his place.” 

Wayne. You would be meeting Wayne. 

Eddie had told the plans a week ago to you. You had asked him if it was okay for you to meet him, and he told you that he would like for you to meet his Uncle. His uncle’s birthday. You were meeting Wayne on his birthday. That prospect was enough to send you into a spiral of nerves. 

“I– I know I asked this a million times, but I dressed up okay, right?” You asked your best friend, only for her to roll her eyes and point to the right for you to follow the directions.

“You look fine! Jesus! You need to calm down!” You nodded and took a deep breath in as you kept driving, knowing you would soon meet Eddie’s home. Where he grew up to be who he was now. It was a really big step, a really big change. You might even cry at one point and you would not be able to explain yourself to the group.

The music playing on the radio was the only sound that engulfed the two of you as you kept driving to your destination. Your stomach was in knots, and you needed to be distracted from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, catching your best friend’s attention.

“So… Is Steve… still mad?” You asked and turned your head for a second to inspect Robin’s reaction. She frowned for a moment and that was enough answer for you. You sighed as you kept driving, shaking your head. “What is his fucking deal?”

“Look, I don’t know. I tried asking him and all I got was ‘You don’t understand.’. I don’t know what went on with him and Eddie. He wouldn’t tell me.” You couldn’t help but feel certain anger at your other friend. What was his problem with you? Were you not good enough for his best friend or something? Was he too pissed at Eddie for hiding you from him? 

“It makes no sense Robs, and you know it.” You commented as you turned left, the sign of ‘Forest Hills: Trailer Park’ coming up. Your heart picked up a pace as you could already see a certain trailer with a bunch of tables gathered outside, seats, fairy lights all over and– It seemed like the entire community came for the birthday.

“Wayne is quite popular, isn’t he?” Robin stated and you hummed. You kind of knew why it could be. You could sense the twinge of sadness in Robin’s voice as she said that. You weren’t going to comment on it, so you slowed your car as you approached, seeing Eddie already in the distance, talking to an older woman as Steve helped with setting up drinks on the two tables.

You spotted Eddie’s car a trailer away, probably not wanting to park the car in front of his uncle’s home so he wouldn’t occupy the space. You parked right behind him and Robin instantly got out to go to the trunk to get the boxes of snacks out. You gripped the steering wheel once and closed your eyes to concentrate. You could do this. You could meet him. It was a big step, and you cannot mess this up. 

You stepped out and helped Robin, closing the trunk and locking the car before heading towards Eddie’s old home. Even if you knew that the financial circumstances of these people were low, you could see the smiles as they greeted you. They had casseroles in their hands, pans with homemade bread. A small girl, around five, was holding a cake with the help of her older sister, maybe ten, walking towards Eddie to hand him the cake. 

The world stopped spinning for a second as you watched. Eddie smiled widely as he held the cake and put it on the table. He lifted the girl up in his arms and twirled around to make her fly, her legs kicking around as she giggled loudly. The older sister was left pouting, looking at the attention her little sister was getting. Eddie put the younger girl down, only for him to do the same with the other, effortlessly, despite the height and weight difference.

You just stood there. The environment around you turned silent, no movement, just your heartbeat being heard in your ears. You didn’t know you were staring in awe, in amusement, completely entranced by him. He looked… beautiful. He looked perfect. Your heart tugged at you, painfully so, and–

“Hey.” You snapped out with a harsh blink as you turned your head to look at Robin, who was staring at you with a bit of worry, yet a small smile was on her lips. “You okay, soldier?”

“I– Yes. Yes, I’m– I’m fine.” You choked on your words as your feet started working again. You were left completely shocked as you looked at him, with children. He was playing with children. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You had to stop. You were becoming emotional, and you couldn’t afford this. 

Nancy came out of the trailer holding stacks of cups, a smile appearing on her face as she saw Robin approaching. You had told Robin that no matter what, she must not tell Nancy. You knew it would be hard for her to do so, keeping secrets from her girlfriend, but Nancy was also a close friend of Eddie’s. Everything would be a mess if the entire group found out about you two. 

Eddie and Steve had yet to realize you two had arrived. Steve was scratching his head as he distributed the bottles of drinks evenly on each table, and Eddie made the girls run back to their homes. It was Robin who announced the arrival of you two, making you jump in your place.

“My love!” She screeched as she wobbled with the box in her hands towards the trailer steps. Nancy giggled as she came down, giving her a peck on the lips. You smiled at the interaction, yet a pang of jealousy surged through you. You wanted to do that with the man who was slowly turning to face you. You wanted to greet him with a hug, with a kiss, with a cheeky comment about how his band t-shirt was not appropriate for a birthday.

Eddie smiled as he looked at you, walking your way to grab the box out of your hands first as he put it on the table. He frowned as he opened it, taking a look inside. Your heart was frantically beating out of your throat as you waited for him to say something.

“We asked for… cheetos. Just Cheetos. You brought the entire store.” He said with a chuckle, and you shrugged and looked around, seeing many of the neighbors already gathering up. 

“Good thing I didn’t bring just that then.” He was smiling your way, seeing him take a gulp as he looked around for a second. Your eyes fell on a pair of hazel ones that were staring at the both of you intently. Steve averted his eyes as soon as you looked at him, and then he walked towards Robin and Nancy. You felt your heart drop slightly by how cold your friend was being to you because of all of this. 

Eddie stared at your profile for a second. The wind blowing against you, and the warmth of the afternoon’s sun hitting your skin just right. You stood where he grew up. Where he was raised. And his body was reacting as such. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he gambled with his options. 

His resolve to keep himself in check with you today was slowly wavering because you two couldn’t risk it. Not in front of his family or his friends. But he couldn’t contain it. His hand slowly reached for the small of your back, and your head snapped towards him, a question etched in your eyebrows. 

You could see the need in his eyes. How he also wanted to kiss you, greet you like you two always did when seeing one another. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries today, knowing this was an important event for him and for everyone around him. You didn’t want to overstep in any sort of way. He turned around, yelling at Nancy.

“Nance, the sparklers are still in the car, right?” 

“Oh, yeah! I think there’s also more napkins and the speaker!” She replied, and he nodded, looking your way again. 

“Care to help me get those, Peach?” 

Your heart beat insanely crazy in your chest as you nodded. You looked back for a second to see Steve shaking his head before his attention went back to Nancy. You frowned a bit as Eddie started leading you towards the parked cars, right where you came from. You didn’t know why Steve didn’t like you two together. Why was he so against the idea? He came here with Eddie and Nancy in the car, and they didn’t look weird or out of place, or anything like that when you saw them from afar.

The problem was when the two of you got together. Every time Steve saw you and Eddie together, he would shut down. He would not talk with either of you, and he would not even look at you. He would glare at Eddie a few times, and you couldn’t help but ask yourself if Steve knew what Eddie truly felt for you. If he knew, and he looked at Eddie that way whenever he suspected you two were doing something, then it didn’t mean anything good.

“Steve still mad?” You asked as you kept walking, coming towards his car only for him to look back at the trailer and for his hand to grab yours.

“A bit. He will come around, he’ll have to get over it sooner or later.” He mentioned, and you squeezed his hand back as he stepped around the car, going towards the other side so you two would be hidden from everyone else. He crouched a bit so he wouldn’t be seen, and– he hated this. He hated it, but– He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know. He was lost. This was the first time he ever… that he ever–

“Hi.” You said with a smile, cutting his thoughts off, and his reaction was quick, smiling back down at you as everything else shut off in one second. His face leaned down, coming close to your lips as his ears started ringing.

“Hi.” He finally kissed you. Slow. Gentle. Tender. He was surprised he could even kiss someone like this. To kiss someone without the need for it to escalate into something else. To kiss just because he wanted to kiss the person. To kiss them first thing in the day, so they wouldn’t forget him so easily. 

He felt your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands ran all over your back. He needed this. It was as if your embrace was a calming spot. A safe haven. He had been a wreck the past week. He was very sensitive, and everything that could be said to him it could end up badly. 

His uncle’s birthday was not something easy for him to do. Not when it could potentially be his last birthday. So it had to be perfect. Everything had to come together nicely, and it had to be memorable for Wayne. He didn’t meet you this past week, even if he extremely wanted to. He didn’t want you to witness the mess he was. He arranged everything with his friends when Eddie finally accepted their offers of helping, including you.

You had nagged at him all week, asking if he needed you to do something, to help, but he always replied with a no, and that he had it under control. Steve was the one who made him snap out of his craziness and told Eddie that he was an idiot for doing this alone. But could you blame him? His family, the last member of it that he recognizes as such, is dying. This birthday, overall, means nothing.

But now with you, the weight was lifted off his shoulders in one second. His arms engulfed you, not wanting to let go just yet, as you two kissed. Lips moving against each other, savoring the moment because it had been days, hours, minutes. He counted every single one of those, and you had done almost the same. 

You weren’t mad when Eddie didn’t ask you to meet him the past week. You understood him, but the need to help him made your skin itch. You couldn’t let him do this alone, but you didn’t know how to approach him without invading his space. You didn’t want him to get mad or snap at you. You were surprised when two days ago he called and asked if you could help get some of the things. 

You were really happy to help, and you told him as such. You were happy he had included you in the celebration of Wayne’s birthday, and even happier that he had asked help from you to prepare it.

He kissed you softly, and you kissed back just the same. You wished you weren’t hiding right now. You wished you could meet Wayne under different circumstances. You wished you could introduce yourself as something else rather than his nephew’s friend slash fuckbuddy. He groaned into the kiss when your fingernails graced the back of his neck for a second, making him pull away.

“Sorry for not being… available this week–”

“I understand. It– It looks perfect, Eddie.” Your voice was like a calming tune in his head. As if the vibrations of your tone soothed each cell and made him become like putty under your arms. Vulnerability was something Eddie never did. He never showed it, and if he did, he always made sure to be alone for it.

Except one time.

One time, you had caught him red-handed after hanging up with Wayne. You two had barely started to talk, but something about you made him break. Something about you made him want to be vulnerable. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had been vulnerable with him, and he wanted to show you as well, be even. 

But you had held him, let him cry out on your shoulder, and he never forgot about that touch. He never forgot about that moment with you. He never quite let go of how you rubbed his back and then helped him calm down from it all. He only broke down with Wayne, and he once did with Steve after Wayne got diagnosed.

And now, it seemed as if you understood why he wasn’t present this week. As if you knew the turmoil of emotions rushing all over his body because of today. And it was incredible how you could manage to make all of that disappear in one instant by just being here, with him. He stared at you for a while, a smile forming on his lips as he slowly nodded.

“Yeah… You guys helped me a lot, too.” You smiled up at him, to then pinch his cheek roughly as you glared when he winced. “What–!”

“You are one stubborn idiot.” You let go of his cheek, and he stepped back, rubbing his skin with a pout on his lips. You bit your lip, unable to contain yourself, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and pulling him downwards again, towards your lips, kissing his pout away. “Don’t be a baby, Munson.”

“Now, be careful, sweetheart.” He roughly spoke as his eyes clashed with yours. You could sense the need behind it, the lack of physical touch from one another becoming apparent now. You really wanted to just take him away for a few hours now and spend it alone with him. You weren’t going to, but it was just your body reacting, and your emotions enhancing the need.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You gave him a peck as you pushed him away softly, looking up at him as you tried to not let the sadness and disappointment show in your eyes. “We have been gone for a hot minute…”

He stared at you for a while, the wind blowing between the two of you for a few seconds, with no words being exchanged. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to go back and pretend that he didn’t want to kiss you all the damn time. He didn’t want to hold himself back for the entire night. How was he going to achieve that when he knew he would probably need you by his side for this?

“Yeah. The others might arrive soon too…” You hummed at his response, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him. He huffed with a smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips, reading your mind. You took the opportunity to move your hand down and pinch his left ass cheek, making him squeal. “I swear, you are LITERALLY obsessed with my ass.”

“I swear you had another mosquito.” You giggled as you went towards the trunk of his car. He chuckled and pressed the middle button of his key, letting you open it up. You whistled as you saw the huge speaker laying inside. “When Nancy said the speaker, I thought of a small one. Like those JBL ones.” 

Eddie chuckled, standing next to you, grabbing the speaker, boombox, by its handle and pulling it out. You wanted to bite his arm from how its veins popped out from the movement, but you had to keep yourself together. At least for today. 

“We have almost the entire park coming for Wayne’s birthday. A small speaker wasn’t going to cut it, Peach.” He said as he looked at his old home. They weren’t going to lack on food and drinks since all the neighbors came with stuff. There weren’t many people, but there were quite a few. “It might be his last one… That’s why they all came.”

And you knew it. You had that suspicion. You looked up at Eddie, staring at his profile. His jaw was clenching as his eye bag looked like it was pulsating. He was stressed. He was nervous. He was anxious. You didn’t care at that moment. If Nancy or anyone else were looking, they could go to hell. 

You wrapped your hands around his arm, nuzzling your nose against his bicep before placing a soft kiss there. He was wide eyed as he stared down at you, knowing you two were not covered by the car anymore. Your eyes looked up to clash against his, a warm and encouraging smile spreading on your lips.

“Let’s make it a great birthday. Okay?” 

Time went still again, and yet he smiled back, giving a nod your way. You slowly let go of his arm, and the seconds started ticking again. You grabbed the napkins and sparklers from the passenger’s seat as Eddie closed the trunk. He grabbed the handle of the huge speaker and rolled it like a carry-on back towards the party, setting it up with his phone so music would start playing through the field.

You helped Nancy put the snacks in bowls and plates, as more people brought little pies or snacks, as well as drinks. Some introduced themselves as old fishing pals of Wayne, then a woman who told you that Wayne had helped her fix her pipes when she barely moved in years ago. Everyone had stories with him, and you realised he was dearly loved and cared about in this trailer park. 

Then, Argyle, Eden, and Jonathan finally rolled up. They were bringing in alcoholic drinks because Jonathan had great deals with suppliers thanks to his bar. The drinks were nicely put on the table, and Jonathan made it very clear to keep them clean and respectful. Basically, he told people to measure themselves with the alcohol and not get drunk in a lapse of minutes. 

Nancy then started waving excitedly towards the road, which made you look forward, seeing her brother waving back, followed by Will, a boy and a girl you didn’t know, and Dustin. You wondered if they knew about you. Did they know what you looked like? Did they know you by name, even?

Your questions were answered when Jonathan and Nancy gave their hugs, and Will immediately smiled at you.

“Finally, nice to meet you.” That’s how you knew. You smiled at the young boy, shaking his hand as you presented yourself. Mike, even if acting as if he weren’t interested, he shook your hand with his enthusiastically. You then looked at the two young people you hadn’t met, nor even seen in any of the pictures Eddie had shown you.

“I’m Lucas.” The boy said, presenting himself and shaking your hand. Lucas… Eddie had mentioned a boy who quit his club to go into the basketball team, and maybe that boy was Lucas. You turned to the short-haired girl, who was smiling at you.

“I’m Jane.” You smiled as you shook her hand. Before you could say anything, you were engulfed in the arms of a stranger whom you only knew through pictures.

“Oh man! It’s great to finally meet you!” Dustin exclaimed excitedly as he pulled away, your eyes wide in surprise as he held your shoulders. “I’m Dustin Henderson, pretty sure you know that already, very popular amongst the older crowd.”

You couldn’t help the snort and the smile bubbling up in you as you looked at the guy in front of you. He was radiating happiness in every single aspect. You couldn’t help but feel giddy as he shared his emotions with you. You presented yourself, and he gave you a roll of his eyes, telling you he knew.

“Yeah, I know a bit about most of you.” You commented, and before Dustin could say anything, you felt the collar of your shirt being pulled from the back, separating you from the younger man in front of you. Dustin’s eyes looked up, and your head turned to look at Eddie with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Now, you don’t hug people you just met, Henderson. It’s creepy.” He said almost in a snarl, but Dustin smiled widely and immediately latched onto Eddie. You were wide-eyed as you saw all the younger ones hugging Eddie tightly, forming a big chunk of people. You inspected Eddie’s face as he stayed in the middle, his eyes closed as he breathed in.

You realized that it might have been months since they all last saw each other. Steve, Robin, Argyle, and Eden approached next, and they all happily greeted each other, with Steve also almost getting tumbled over. Argyle presented Eden as his girlfriend, and– Shit, another pang of jealousy. You wanted that. You wanted to be presented as… as a girlfriend, just like her. 

Then you looked at how Will and Mike had stepped back, and Mike’s arm was wrapped around Will’s waist as he listened to Steve talk to Dustin about proper manners with alcohol. They were 20, but they were allowed to drink under their supervision. 

“For context…” Jonathan stood next to you, holding back a chuckle. “We were present when we let Dustin have his first taste of alcohol at eighteen. We turned around for a second, and he had chugged two beers down.” 

“What!?” You asked loudly, looking at Jonathan with a disapproving look on your face. He shrugged at you with a roll of his eyes.

“He is a menace! And very sneaky!” You shook your head at him, a small smile forming on your lips as you looked back at the group. “So… heard things with Jeff broke off.”

You blinked a few times at his words, and you wondered why he suddenly said them, only to then see Jeff, Gareth, and another guy coming over, laughing as they talked. You had to lie to them again. Robin helped with coming up with that plan. Supposedly, you and Jeff had tried going exclusive, only for it to not work out. Jeff had feelings for someone else, while you never caught those for him. You were two friends who often fucked and that was it. You pretended you had misinterpreted your feelings.

“Yeah, but it’s better this way. I honestly am happy that he is with the one he truly likes now.” You smiled, and Jonathan’s eyebrows were still furrowed in the middle in concern. You turned to look at him and sighed. “I promise, I am fine. I explained to you that I thought I liked him, just because he was the only one I was fucking.” 

“Still… I don’t know… I just feel like you– You sound incomplete, if that makes sense.” You stared at him as the words processed in your head. Incomplete. How does one sound… incomplete?

Your attention was brought back as people started cheering and clapping, and you turned to look towards the trailer door. Walking down the small stairs with Lucia, the caretaker, helping from behind, was Wayne. He was waving as best as he could, taking little steps to reach the wheelchair at the bottom of the porch. Eddie was already standing there, and your eyes filled with tears as you saw the boney structure of his uncle embrace his nephew, who was much bigger than him, yet he was hugging him as if Eddie were still a kid. 

Eddie held onto him, separating just enough to help him get on the wheelchair as Lucia prepared the IVs on the back to connect him to. You saw people slowly approach Wayne to start congratulating him and you waited by the tables, alongside the rest of your group. The corroded coffin guys stepped up, going first. 

The old man greeted them, and you could see him reprimanding Gareth for something. You were staring at Eddie’s reactions, standing next to his uncle as he listened in to all the greetings. Then, the younger ones greeted him, and you noticed how Eddie had to grip Dustin by the hair to not get overly excited when telling something to his uncle, who was trying not to burst out laughing. 

Then, your group started moving, one by one, greeting him and giving small talk. Argyle seemed to have offered some of his things, which Eddie only rubbed his temples at. He also presented Eden to him. Nancy just politely greeted him, only for Robin to start telling Wayne how she was her girlfriend now in a very loud manner. Jonathan apologized for Robin’s excitement, and the old man thanked him for the nice glass of whiskey he would drink tonight. He spent an awful lot of time talking with Steve, and you stood at the side, the nerves eating away at your own stomach.

You were a stranger here. You were invading privacy, and you didn’t know how to act with it. You didn’t know how to introduce yourself. You didn’t know if his uncle knew the clashes you and Eddie had in the past, the number of insults you threw at his nephew. If he knew, he would hate you. He definitely would despise you. Fuck, you didn’t know–

“Peach.” 

Your head snapped up, seeing Eddie with a smile on his face as he put his hand behind your left shoulder. You gave him a quick, nervous nod and took a deep breath as you let him guide you towards his uncle. Wayne Munson was looking up at you already, a tilt of his head as he inspected you all over.

“I do not know you.” He said with curiosity. You opened your mouth only for Eddie to give your name first, and then Wayne’s eyes widened, and he squinted at you. “I’m sorry– You– You are the one who tried to beat him up, right?”

Oh, fuck, he knew. His uncle knew about you and Eddie hating each other before. This looked bad, and the fact that he knew that part specifically. Shit. Your heart was slowly stopping in panic as you took a sharp intake of breath.

“I– Yes, but–” You were interrupted by laughter, his uncle clapping as he cracked up as if you had just told the greatest joke of all time. Your eyes were wide as Eddie groaned in exasperation next to you. You didn’t know what was happening as you looked back and forth, wondering what you had done to make this situation funny.

“Lord, I respect you, kid. Honestly, not many have the balls to do what you did to someone like him.” You tilted your head in question, and Eddie’s eyes snapped open at his uncle’s words. Wayne looked at him, and Eddie gave a subtle shake of his head. Not now. It was not the time. His uncle understood and grabbed your hand. “I’m Wayne, nice to meet you.”

You slowly shook his hand, and when you pulled away, you turned to look at Eddie, who was already looking down at you. His eyes were filled with emotions that you couldn’t decipher. There was a mix of absolutely everything, and you didn’t know which to pinpoint first. You opened your mouth to talk, only for Robin to interrupt you both.

“Come set up beer pong with me!” She called out to you specifically, and you nodded, smiling down at Wayne once again.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Munson. If you play beer pong, I’m your rival.” You made conversation, and the older man rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“That would be your worst mistake. I may be in a wheelchair, but my pulse is steady.” You were happy he took the comment with the same energy you delivered it and then you walked away to help Robin. Eddie stayed back with his uncle, guiding them both to a table. Eddie grabbed a beer and then filled a cup with just a quarter of whiskey in it. 

“Don’t tell the doctors.” Eddie said, and his uncle chuckled, grabbing the cup and taking it to his lips.

“Never.” He took a small sip of the whiskey as Eddie sat down and popped the can open for him to take a sip of his own. “So… that girl.” 

“What about her?” His uncle chuckled a bit, scratching the side of his head. Eddie’s heart was beating out of his chest as he waited for an answer, only for his old man to shrug.

“She seems nice.” Eddie let a small sigh escape before taking another sip of his beer. “Lovely of her to help you with the boombox.”

He spat his entire beer out, choking on the gas that got trapped in his throat. Fuck– Fuck–

“I– That didn’t… Shit, that didn’t–”

“Mean anything?” Wayne asked with an eyebrow raised in question. He slowly took another sip as he stared at his nephew. Eddie was looking down, a hand scratching his head as he tried to look for the best words. 

“We… It’s just physical.” He tried to say as best as he could, but the words came out small, and his uncle noticed.

“I may be old… and I may be sick, but I know when something doesn’t mean anything. That kiss I saw… Come on.” His uncle pressed, and Eddie sighed heavily, looking at him with a frown in the middle of his forehead.

“How did you even see us?” He asked, only for Lucia to come by for a second, grabbing a napkin from the table, humming innocently. Eddie glared at her, a bit of annoyance displaying in his features. “Lucia…”

“Look, it ain’t my fault your uncle picked up a few words in Spanish. I saw you two while I helped him get dressed, and I said ‘Eddie se esta besando con una chica!’ and your uncle’s curiosity spiked.” The woman explained, and Wayne chuckled.

“I only caught the words ‘Eddie’, ‘kissing’, and ‘girl’. She helped me get up and see.” Eddie groaned exasperated, and Wayne nodded at Lucia for her to walk away and leave him alone with his nephew. She stepped away, her eyes on Wayne at all times if he needed anything at all. “Son…”

“Old man, I know what you saw but… it’s not that simple.” 

“In all my years I’ve never seen you with someone. Not like that. Edward, you’ve never invited the people you spent nights with to my birthdays, nor yours.” He explained and Eddie felt trapped, as if someone was putting pressure on his back.

“It’s because she is in our friend group. That’s the whole reason for it.” Wayne sighed at the excuse, shaking his head at the stubbornness. 

“Eddie… stop looking at it logically.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened and he looked up to see his uncle smiling. He knew. He knew what was going on in his mind. Of course he did, Wayne was his family, his real father so to speak. Wayne knew him like the back of his own hand. 

“I– I don’t know how it should really feel. I never told her–” Wayne nodded, and opened his mouth to talk, only for him to be called by his friends. He turned to look at Eddie for a second and he only smiled, “Go, we’ll talk later. I’m staying here for a few more days, remember?” 

“Sure son.” He nodded towards Lucia, who came over to help Wayne go to his fishing friends. Eddie stared at his family and just sat there. He was playing with his fingers as he felt his entire body tensing with sudden nerves. 

Why was everything so complicated? Why was he the complicated one? Why couldn’t it be easy for him to know when it was right? When everything made sense? It wasn’t fair that he didn’t know how it should really feel. It wasn’t fair. 

His thoughts were interrupted when a hand was plastered on his back, making him jump up completely startled and defensive, grabbing the wrist of the hand that patted him. 

“Whoa! It’s just me!” Dustin exclaimed, completely startled, putting his other hand up in defense. Eddie sighed and let go of him and his younger friend sat down next to him, grabbing a beer and popping one open. Eddie glared at him, squinting his eyes. “What?”

“Easy.”

“I have learned my ways. I am not a teenager anymore.” He said proudly, and took a long sip of the can, making Eddie sigh in defeat. He exclaimed his satisfaction with a long ‘ah’ and silence engulfed them for a few seconds. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I am.” Dustin gave a small encouraging smile and Eddie could feel the nervousness in his friend as he tapped his fingers against the can. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh? Me? Nothing? Why would something be… wrong with me?” He said with a nervous fake chuckle, and Eddie frowned in question, the interest spiking.

“Henderson… what is it?” Dustin took a swig of his beer, looking down at the top of it, his fingers playing around the can. Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he waited; he rarely saw Dustin this nervous, even before when he was DM for the club.

“Um… I… I kinda have to tell you something, actually just kind of– wanting to get something off of my chest.” He confessed, and Eddie immediately looked around to make sure no one was around, his protectiveness over Dustin’s privacy growing.

“Alright… is it bad?”

“I– No, I mean, it is? It isn’t? I’m happy, so you would… suspect it isn’t bad, but…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Suzie and I broke up.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock because Dustin had always boasted about Suzie. He always talked about her as if she hung the stars in the sky for him. No one ever got to meet her thanks to her religion. Her parents never let her go on trips by herself, much less to meet a boy. 

“Why?” He managed to ask, and Dustin sighed, taking a sip of his beer, Eddie following.

“Her religion. I… I adored Suzie, but… It wasn’t going to work out. She likes her religion, and I can’t force her out of it… Nor can she force me into it.” He explained and Eddie nodded in understanding, his heart turning a bit, knowing how much Dustin must have hurt from this.

“When did it happen?” He asked, and Dustin looked at him with a small smile, as if silently apologizing.

“A few months ago… It wasn’t something that I didn’t know was going to happen, Eddie. We both knew it was a matter of time.” Eddie was surprised to hear those words coming out of Dustin’s mouth, realizing just how much his freshman from school had grown up. Eddie patted his back in comfort, the younger man nodding as a thanks.

“Still, you could have called. You know we are here for you at all times.” He reminded his friend, and Dustin looked back down again, clearing his throat. Eddie’s eyebrows met in the middle as he saw a red hue appearing on Dustin’s ears.

“Yeah, I– Well… Someone kind of… comforted me…” Now Eddie was stunned, the words processing in his head because he understood what they meant, but he had a hard time grasping it.

“What? Who? Mike?” The younger man sighed and shook his head, clearing his throat as Eddie started noticing the nervousness that was building up in him.

“Not… Not Mike, no…” He then mumbled something really low under his breath, but Eddie only heard a hum. He moved a bit closer, his eyebrow raising in question at his friend.

“What? I didn’t catch that.” Dustin sighed and covered his mouth, mumbling again.

“... –ping… th– ne–” 

“Henderson, I can’t fucking hear–”

“I’m sleeping with Jane! Jesus Christ Eddie!” 

The older man’s eyes widened as he stared at Dustin. The poor guy covered his face, afraid someone had heard his outburst, but Eddie remained frozen. Jane…? His head turned to look at her, chatting away with Nancy with a smile on her face. 

“I… but… She’s Mike’s ex–”

“I know.”

“And your friend.” And Dustin sighed and nodded.

“I know.” Eddie was still stunned as he looked at Dustin with a scrunched-up nose, and the younger one smacked Eddie in the arm, completely offended by his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that!?”

“I’m sorry! It’s still hard for me to– To not see you as that weird fourteen year old who loved Alf, Henderson–” Eddie then gasped, pointing at him. “You lost your virginity with Jane–”

Dustin’s free hand flew to cover Eddie’s mouth, trying to shush him. The younger man was blushing a deep red, looking around to make sure no one was trying to come near them thanks to their antics. Eddie groaned in disgust as he pulled Dustin’s hand off his mouth, glaring back at him.

“Don’t say it so fucking loud, dickhead!” Eddie rolled his eyes, but warmth invaded his chest as he tilted his head for Dustin to continue. “I… I know… It’s fucking crazy– I mean, her and me, we know each other since… what, eleven?”

“Friends for a long time, yeah.” He was trying to understand his friend’s situation, wondering what was truly bothering him. “Are you conflicted because no one knows you’re sleeping with a friend’s ex or–”

“What, no! I know Mike wouldn’t have a problem with it… They broke up because Mike found himself, and Jane understood… It’s not really that…” Dustin’s eyes grew distant, and Eddie followed his gaze, only to see him looking at Jane. The air felt calm for some reason, as if the party around them was not happening.

“Then what is it?”

“We are hooking up… and it’s great…” He stopped for a few seconds, and Eddie saw how you approached Jane, offering her something to drink with a smile on your face. “But what if I don’t want to just hook up anymore?”

And Eddie froze for a second there. 

The words banged into his skull like a rocket crashing into the moon. He frowned as his heart felt as if it were speeding up, his stomach turning the more he looked at you, the more Dustin’s words repeated inside his head. His mouth moved before he could process it.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know you want more than just that? Maybe the sex is just… that great.” Dustin scoffed and that made Eddie lose focus on you to look back at his friend. His eyes never left Jane, not for a second.

“Because I want more than that… I want to hold her hand just because… Kiss her just because… Hug her just because… I want to go over there right now, and kiss her, in front of everyone so that people know she is mine.” Eddie stared at Dustin as if he had just discovered the library of Alexandria. He felt his body wave between hot and cold, sweats running all over him, his hair standing on end the more his younger friend’s words settled inside his gut.

“Isn’t that just you being possessive?” Dustin only chuckled at that, finally turning to look back at Eddie as if he had just told the greatest joke in the world.

“But that’s part of it. My possessiveness tells me just how much I want her to be mine and mine only.” And Eddie froze entirely, the wind moving the strands of hair in front of his face as Dustin talked. “Being possessive isn’t bad… if measured, it helps you show the other person how much you care.”

His eyes were wide, slowly turning his head to look back to where you were. Argyle and you were chatting now, and he was trying to make Will get a hit of his joint, and you were trying to bat him away. You turned your head just in time to catch him looking and Eddie didn’t turn away. He felt his heart clench as you waved at him, wincing in Argyle’s direction, asking silently for him to help you.

He gulped, his head turning to look at Dustin who was smirking at him, and before Eddie could ask, his friend got up from the chair, taking a sip of his beer, giving a triumphant ‘Ah’ as he finished it.

“I am for once the mature one.” He said and Eddie rolled his eyes, getting up from the chair and yanking Dustin’s small mullet with a harsh tug, making him yelp in a high pitched manner, making Eddie snort.

“Yeah, right.” Dustin pushed Eddie away, flipping him off with his middle finger, but Eddie couldn’t help the warm smile directed to his friend. He was indeed more mature than him today. Maybe had been for a while. 

It would have been nice to grow up knowing what one truly wants. What your heart truly desires and not what your brain conjures up. To be told that everything could be a side effect. To be told that he couldn’t really be entirely normal, that his feelings were never going to be exact, or just like the others. 

But when he looked at you once more, Dustin’s words started repeating themselves in his ears. Over, and over, and over again. You asked for help again with a mere look in your eyes, and he couldn’t help himself. His feet moved before he could control them, but he knew this wouldn’t happen with anybody.

No… He was only magnetized by you.

Hours had passed and the people started going back to their homes, leaving just a very few present, that included yourself, your party, a few neighbors, Wayne’s friends, and Lucia.

You were starting to put all the snacks in leftover tupperwares, knowing people had stopped eating by now, and you didn’t want the food to go soggy or bad. You felt a presence next to you, and you saw Harley bouncing on her feet a little bit. In her arms, laid her daughter, an eight month old baby, little gargles escaping her little lips. Looking at women in the pregnancy stages made you feel down, and you could admit that, but babies… Already born babies made you feel insanely fulfilled.

“I’m sorry, could you please hold my baby for a second? I have to help Lucia take down some of the decorations!” You had introduced yourself to her before in the night, but the baby then was inside her little egg crib, sound asleep. 

“Oh, but don’t worry about it, I can help–”

“Nonsense, I’ve been sitting all day with the baby, and I didn’t help at all. Please, it’ll be a few minutes!” You blinked a few times as you felt you felt pressure on your chest, as if you were being squished. Your fingertips went a little cold, as you looked down at the baby. You held one baby in your life, and it was that same baby who made you realize you wanted to have kids. 

You took a deep breath in as you raised your arms up, letting Harley pass the baby onto your arms delicately. You didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but when you looked down at the little thing, at those big orbs staring at you, you instantly melted. You smiled widely, your index finger reaching up to boop her nose, only for her to engulf it in her small hand.

“What’s her name?” You asked, and the mother was already rolling up the sleeves of her blouse.

“Sabrina! Okay, I promise I won’t be long! She is very friendly!” With that, Harley rushed away, leaving you behind with her baby as you saw her helping Lucia start cleaning up the tables. You looked at your friends who were all talking to each other, in their own world, and then your gaze fell back down to the sound of little gurgles in your arms. 

She was so beautiful. So innocent and pure. Her life was to be written, miracles yet to happen to her. All the possibilities that could happen for her, all the people she’ll meet, and you were one of the lucky ones. 

“She tried biting my finger off one time.” You heard a gruff voice say from behind you, making you snap out of your thoughts, quickly turning around, finding Wayne Munson smiling up at you from his wheelchair. 

“Oh, this bundle of sunshine? No, she wouldn’t do that.” You cooed at the baby, who only smiled at your bunny kisses. The old man kept a smile on his face and he nodded to the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down. You carefully sat down, getting comfortable with the baby in your arms.

“The most innocent-looking are the ones who turn out to be serial killers.” He joked, and you fake gasped, pretending to move the baby away.

“Do not listen to the old man, Sabrina, he doesn’t know a thing about cute, sweet princesses like you. How could you ever be a cannibal?” Wayne chuckled at your jokes and watched as you bounced the baby a little to keep her entertained. He inspected you, saw how you smiled at the little girl in your arms, and he couldn’t help himself.

“For how long?” You looked up at him, the smile still on your face.

“How long, what, sir?”

“For how long have you felt things for my son?” 

Your world froze up, time stopped, and it even skipped. What did he say? What– Were you obvious? Were you too obvious? You hadn’t interacted with Eddie much today, so you didn’t know how he could have figured it out. Sweat ran all over your body like a waterfall, and it was by sheer luck that you remembered you had another human in your arms right now.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t–”

“Darling, don’t worry. I won’t tell.” You were frozen in fear, caught completely red-handed by none other than his own uncle, and you didn’t miss how he called Eddie his son. Wayne saw Eddie as if he were his own. Just like Eddie told you, he sees Wayne as his father. His pops.

“I’m… I–” You didn’t know what to say. You felt your entire face burning at thousands of degrees, and how were you supposed to navigate this situation? How were you supposed to handle this? Were you supposed to lie? To tell the truth? To act like he was insane? That would be mean given the circumstances, but…

At the lack of your response, Wayne straightened up, clearing his throat to snap you back into this world, noticing the nervousness that started building inside of you.

“One time, we were out fishing. Eddie was fourteen at that time. He didn’t like fishing at fucking all, let me tell you just that, but he tried for my sake and for us to share a hobby together.” He chuckled as he remembered the day, retelling it to you– “So I took him fishing with me. He tried, and tried to get the fish, until he started throwing a tantrum when it wouldn't catch.”

You giggled a little at the story, making Wayne turn to look at you, as if asking what you were laughing about.

“I’m sorry, it just… it sounds like him.”

“Why do you say that?” Wayne contained a smile as he looked at you, your eyes falling on the baby in your arms as it did grabby hands at you.

“He gets really mad whenever he isn’t right. He once couldn’t admit to me that pickles with peanut butter tasted good, just like I said.” You commented, remembering that day that Eddie discovered that strange snack of yours. He had called you nasty, for many days, making fun of you, only to find him in the middle of the night, eating them in the darkness of the kitchen. 

“He has a really bad temper sometimes. And I could barely handle that boy’s sweet tooth.” 

“I fucking know! Whenever he sees me make anything with chocolate chips, he would stand next to me–” and Wayne continued, finishing the sentence for you,

“– And make sure you put almost the entire bag inside!” You laughed as you nodded, his own chuckles following soon. 

Silence then wrapped around the two of you, your eyes never leaving his. You felt like you couldn’t lie to him. You felt like this man deserved to know that someone wants to make Eddie as happy as he did. For some reason you wanted Wayne to know, it felt right to let him know.

“For a while.” You answered and Wayne nodded slowly, understanding. He could see truth in your eyes, and he could feel that you would never hurt his nephew. His family. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Kids these days. You’re too scared of the what ifs that you forget to live in the moment.” You snorted a bit at the old man kind of comment. But he was right, wasn’t he? “What are you scared of?”

“I’ve… been through a lot… I guess I just don’t want to end up hurt again…” You huffed, rocking the baby in your arms a bit, shaking your head. “Kind of pointless now that it already happened but…”

Wayne nodded, and he looked down at Sabrina, who was holding onto your finger as you pretended you were shaking her hand. He smiled softly as you cooed, made babbling noises with your mouth, and then he chuckled, catching your attention.

“Pointless…? No, feelings are never pointless. They dictate who you are, where you are, who you’re with, and where you’re headed. But one has to always face them, sweetheart.” You stared at the man for a while, a small smile forming on your lips as your heart filled with warmth.

“Now I know where Eddie got the pet naming from.”

“A Munson trait, sorry about that.” He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help the lump that formed in your throat, gulping it as you whispered to him.

“I really… I really like your son.”

Wayne couldn’t help the tears that formed in his waterlines, nodding at your words. He sniffled and held his hand out for you to grab. Your hand slowly held his, and you could feel the care in his touch, the plea.

“Then don’t let him be stupid.” He said with an order, and you sniffled, nodding at him. You opened your mouth, and he stopped you, raising his free hand. “I won’t tell him… He’s staying with me for a few more days. If I know of something, I’ll tell you.” 

He winked at you playfully, and you couldn’t help the wet giggle that escaped you. Your friends were unaware of the interaction that was happening a few feet away from them, or that’s what you both thought.

Steve stood next to Eddie, a little farther from the trailer. They were having a small smoke break together, and they had been talking about Eddie’s stay, knowing he would be in Hawkins for a few more days to keep Wayne company.

“You know, I can always stay if you need me here. You know that, right? Eds?” Steve said, but received no response. He frowned, looking up from the ground to see Eddie no longer looking at him, but to the horizon, wide-eyed, almost as if he were seeing a ghost. He followed the line of sight, and Steve’s face softened as he realized what Eddie was looking at.

You were laughing with Wayne, and there was a baby in your arms. He felt lightweight, like nothing in the world mattered anymore. The world turned into clouds, the other people didn’t exist. It was just you, Wayne, him, and that baby. That baby who fits so well in your arms. That baby who pressed her hands on your face when you tried to give her a kiss. Your smile mimicked the baby’s as you two laughed at his Uncle making a face. 

Everything felt serene. It felt right. It felt like this: if he wanted it, he could have it. He could, couldn’t he? He wanted it. He wanted it all. You were it all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and his only. He wanted you to know he was yours, and yours only. He wanted to take you out, he wanted to plan things with you, he wanted to be true to you, he wanted it.

He wanted you, just like you were now, and he couldn't help but pretend you were holding his baby. Not a stranger's.

His uncle looked up, and he saw Eddie looking at you two. Wayne nudged your shoulder to get your attention, and once he did, he pointed at Eddie, telling you that he was staring. Eddie saw you giggle and whisper something to his uncle, only to then see the two of you raising your middle fingers up at him, snickering together. He wasn’t even mad about that. His chest only pressed harder on him. His heart hurt more, in every perfect way.

Steve huffed, not stopping Eddie when he saw him start walking away by his own accord. He walked towards you and his uncle. The two of you pretended to be innocently playing with the baby, as if you hadn’t just flipped Eddie off from a distance. Once he reached you two, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You two having fun mocking me or something?” Wayne rolled his eyes, his voice rough and dramatic.

“We would never do that.” You nodded at that with a small frown.

“Mhm, never ever!” Eddie’s heart tugged at him again, yet this time he didn’t fight it. Yeah, there was no need to fight it anymore, was there? The answer was here. He finally had it.

The baby suddenly cooed, and Eddie noticed her little hands trying to reach him, doing a grabby motion. He smiled, putting his arms out to tell you to hand him the baby. Your heart skipped many beats as you got up, handing the baby into his arms, and you were surprised when he handled her with such care. 

His arm was underneath her, cradling her into him with ease as he wiggled his fingers on her cheek, causing her to giggle from the tickling. You bit your bottom lip as you stood next to him, looking down at the baby with a smile to your face. You were startled when he booped your nose, making you squeal a little, but that made the baby jump a bit in Eddie’s arms, scared.

And then she started crying. 

Eddie gasped, his mouth wincing as he frowned, looking at you for help. You were glaring at him, stomping your foot at him. 

“Now look at what you did!” You whispered in a yell to him, and he huffed, rolling his eyes your way, bouncing on his feet to rock the baby.

“I didn’t know you would react like a scaredy cat, Peach, how the fuck was I supposed–”

“Don’t curse!!! It’s a baby! She might catch on to it!” The baby’s cries kept going as you two kept bickering, but Eddie never once stopped rocking it, and you never once stopped trying to send funny faces between the words being exchanged. 

And Wayne watched it all. He watched how his nephew was surrounded by his friends. He had support. He watched how the boy he took in and raised as his own son, turned out to be a good man. Eddie wasn’t perfect, no one really was. But Wayne didn’t want to leave without knowing Eddie would be okay.

And there’s you. He knew. Everyone would take care of Eddie, but Wayne had always hoped to find someone like you. He had always hoped that someone would care for Eddie in the same levels he cared for him. And he found that person. You were calling his nephew names, but Wayne knew you didn’t mean a single one of them. 

Eddie would not be alone. He had trust that his nephew, his son, would not be stupid. That he would keep fighting, despite the fear. To keep grasping to the things he wants, and to never let go of them. Wayne knew he could do that with you.

He can finally say that it was all worth it. It will be worth it in the end. Because seeing Eddie smiling down at you without you noticing, tells Wayne everything he needs to know. Eddie would not give up on you, and he could have a moment’s peace knowing his son is going to be taken care of. 

He could finally breathe.

He could finally relax.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Two days after his birthday, Wayne Munson passed away in the warmth of his bed, accompanied by his family.

end of chapter 24

a/n: im sorry.

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[demonpiratehuntress]

brother's keeper pt. 2

Portgas D Ace x F!Reader

summary - As you get closer in Alabasta, your feelings for each other quickly become clear. first part of this in my FIRST masterlist, which wouldn't allow me to add this second part.

warnings - i didn't remember exact details of the Alabasta arc, so if there are any inconsistencies please forgive me. also it's a little shorter than the first part, so i'm sorry, but i guess i'm making more parts <3

a/n - you guys have no idea how much i absolutely MISSED writing for Ace, it's my favourite thing to do <3 he's so fun to write for

The ground was shaking.

Luffy was rapidly approaching on a camel.

Followed by a giant lizard.

There was so much happening that you didn't have time to react appropriately. And just when you thought it couldn't get worse, another lizard popped up right out of the ground behind you.

You, being the great warrior you were, stumbled and fell over from the force of the creature's emergence.

But instead of hitting the ground face-first, you stopped mid-fall. A strong arm was holding you in place, wrapped securely around your waist to stop your fall. You glanced up, your eyes meeting a pair of warm, concerned ones.

"Thanks," you breathed out, any other words you might have planned to say catching in your throat at his proximity.

"Don't mention it," he grinned, steadying you before turning his attention to the giant lizard. However, before he could really do anything, the creature lurched forward and closed its enormous mouth around the raven-haired commander.

Though its "victory" was short-lived - it burst into flames brighter than the sun itself seconds later, becoming a charred mess on the sandy floor as Ace just walked away, unfazed.

Your eyes widened, the sight of Fire Fist Ace's might freezing you to the spot in awe. You'd seen it before with the Marine ships, which had been on a whole different level, but you were still amazed.

"Hungry?" He asked you, with such a silly grin that you couldn't help but laugh.

The group settled down to eat, easily cooking the meat on the scorching rocks. Ace took a seat beside you, and you quickly learned that he was just as ravenous as his brother when it came to food.

"Now I see the resemblance," you remarked, teasingly.

Ace, with his mouth full, looked up at you and his cheeks turned slightly pink. You laughed and finished your own portion, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as his leg brushed against your own.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, subconsciously following an orange cowboy hat, that you didn't even realise you two had been separated from the rest of the group. Until you smacked right into Ace, who had stopped to look around for everyone else.

"Where...is everyone else?" You asked, blinking once, twice, but only desert stretched beyond you. You would have thought your friends had been a mirage, if not for the solidity of Ace's body against your own.

"No idea," he murmured, a hand subconsciously reaching around to feel if you were real. It ended up touching your own, and instinctively you grabbed it.

Then quickly let go once you realised what you did, your face burning. Ace smirked just a little, before looking around again.

"Come on, let's try to find them."

You started walking again, only to be disrupted by yet another lizard. This one, to your relief, was much smaller, though it did seem like it was mocking Ace's movements as the commander tried to move around it. When he threatened it with fire, you swore you saw sweat droplets on its forehead.

"Interesting ride," you remarked as he insisted you get on the lizard. He had left no room for argument, now grinning up at you like he hadn't just argued with you over who would ride the creepy reptile.

"Had to keep it interesting," he chuckled, "Wouldn't want you getting bored, now."

"Somehow, I don't think I could with you," you laughed.

That statement hung in the air for a second, before your face heated up and you urged the lizard to start moving. With burning cheeks, you avoided Ace's gaze, hearing him chuckle softly at your flustered reaction to your own words.

Comfortable silence settled over the two of you for a while, as you approached a small town. You wanted to say something, anything, just so he could respond and make you laugh again, but you didn't know what to say. Your brain felt empty, but your heart felt full. You knew very well what that meant, though you were too afraid to face it right now.

The next time you spoke was when Ace had led you into a building in the small town, and sat down to eat the food that had been laid there.

"Ace-"

"Frauds," he mumbled, or at least that's what you think he said.

You didn't know what that meant until three guys walked into the room, and started protesting. Ace quickly shut them up, stuffing something in your mouth to affectionately keep you from talking as well. Not to mention he wasn't very sly with the way his arm wrapped around your waist, when he noticed those guys looking at you a bit longer than he'd liked.

And that's when you knew.

Your heart fluttered at the realisation, a mix of excitement and nausea suddenly overwhelming you. You carefully extracted yourself from his grip, standing up and walking back out to take a deep breath.

Ace followed not long after, worry clear as daylight in his tone.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm...I think so," you replied, confused about your own feelings. Or maybe confused about what this could mean. And the logistics behind such a relationship - though you couldn't allow yourself to hope for that much.

Ace noticed the conflict in your eyes, his mind quickly connecting the dots. He had gone too far, with his touch earlier.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" You quickly denied his claim, "You didn't. I promise. It's just..."

Ace's familiar smoky scent filled your nostrils - a comforting campfire-like smell that put you at ease and reminded you of better times - as he cautiously moved closer to you, stopping an inch away.

Your reaction confirmed his suspicions.

Your breath hitched, your body tensing slightly. Your eyes became unfocused, hazy with something far deeper than lust. Something he had never allowed himself to feel with anyone, and never allowed anyone to feel with him.

And then his lips were on yours.

BONUS:

"Hey...where's (Name) and Ace?"

The entire crew turned in a full circle, the movement comical as they all looked around. But neither you nor Luffy's incredibly strong and intimidating brother were anywhere to be seen.

"He kidnapped her!" Was Sanji's panicked response, earning sceptical looks from Nami and Zoro, and a glare from Luffy.

"He wouldn't do that!" The Straw Hat captain argued.

Nami and Vivi exchanged looks, something passing between them that the boys didn't quite understand. Or, at least, most of them didn't. Sanji's wail and Usopp's expression indicated that they very well understood what the two girls were implying.

"She's fine," Nami clarified for the other boys, who were staring at them with bewildered expressions.

As Sanji and Luffy bickered over whether or not Ace was a kidnapper, Vivi sighed and Nami face-palmed. But before either of them could suggest just looking for you and Ace, a ship appeared on the horizon.

On...sand?

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 28.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Kind of shifting slightly from (y/n). This is gonna be so damn painful. I'm not sorry >:) Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 26 / chapter 27

His nerves were shot as Bucky sat in the quinjet; the hums of the engines a monotonous symphony within the tight and confined space. The scent of oil, metal, and fuel burning had Bucky's nostrils flaring and cursing his enhanced ability to smell. It was familiar-clinical and cold and making his hackles rise with every second he laid eyes on the bruised man locked up in the back.

He was on his way back to the US, Clint and Steve in the front within the cockpit. Natasha was sitting across from Bucky, the two of them watching over Rollins as they transported him. The man, thankfully, was still unconscious, but Bucky couldn't stop glaring at the man. His blue eyes were steeled, his lips pursed, and Natasha's voice made him glance at her before glancing back at Rollins.

"You're doing the staring thing again."

Bucky didn't respond for a moment and Natasha just smirked slightly before she asked, tilting her head as she sat back in her seat with an inquisitive look on her face.

"I thought you were going to stay in Wakanda with (Y/n)? Did you get cold feet?"

Bucky shook his head, reaffirming to her as his fist slightly clenched.

"I am. I just have some things that I need to do."

Natasha observed him for a moment, trying to read him and understand what it was that he was doing before she huffed a little, unable to get a good read as Bucky continued just to stare at Rollins.

"You want to let me in on the scoop?"

"Nope."

His voice was clipped and short; signifying his desire to stay quiet about his business, and Natasha just gazed at him before shrugging.

"Alright, I'll find out one way or another."

Bucky finally looked at Natasha, a serious look on his face as he spoke.

"I really do not want you, or anybody, to know about this. It's not like I'm doing something illegal that you'd have to notify my therapist about...and have to have her break out the emergency couch and that passive-aggressive fucking notebook of hers."

Natasha hummed, shrugging again.

"Not my monkey, not my circus. Though, you realize that once you get back, you're going to have to talk to her, right?"

He absolutely did not want to do that. While Bucky knew that the court-mandated therapy sessions were apart of his condition to being pardoned and becoming an Avenger, Bucky wasn't a huge fan of Dr. Raynor. He'd only been seeing her for a few months, but her no-nonsense and blunt demeanor made it hard to talk to her.

Even if she was able to get him to speak.

Fuck the notebook, disrespectfully, however.

Bucky just pursed his lips and stated, shaking his head a little as the annoyance began to ripple through him like a tidal wave.

"I'll give her a call when I get back...or just have Steve tell her that I'm on official business and to leave me the hell alone."

Natasha nodded, and when the quinjet finally landed at the Avengers compound, Bucky already began to miss the quiet that came with Wakanda. The compound was hustling and bustling as everyone prepared for Rollins arrival, but Bucky didn't intend to stick around. The smells, the sounds, the ungodly bright lights, it was just too much for Bucky. He quickly stood up, but was stopped by Steve calling his name.

"Bucky, what's going on in that head of yours?"

Bucky felt a sense of guilt run through him as he looked at Steve's concerned face.

"Is everything okay?"

Bucky nodded despite feeling horrible for lying.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to get some things for (Y/n)...maybe to see if she'll remember or if something will jog her memory."

Steve nodded before offering.

"Do you want me to help you?"

Bucky gently clasped Steve's shoulder, thanking him.

"Thanks, but I got it. Just don't do anything stupid until I get back."

Steve then grinned, the familiar line settling Bucky's nerves just the slightest as the Captain replied.

"How can I when you're taking all the stupid with you? Be careful out there, Buck."

Bucky nodded before he was quick to get out of the compound. Weaving in and out of the crowd of people, Bucky was glad to finally step out of the building and set his eyes onto his motorcycle. Heaving a sigh of relief, he swung his leg over the seat and murmured to himself as he turned the bike on.

"Hey, doll."

Bucky immediately set off, the way to his destination engraved into his brain as it had been for years. Despite the determination and desperation that licked at his heels as he speeded down the blacktop, Bucky wasn't sure if what he was about to do was smart.

But he had to see if her life still existed somehow outside of HYDRA.

The trip took about 12 hours normally, but Bucky had been able to shave it down to just 9 with minimal stops reduced to just refueling. When blacktop turned into gravel and the modern environment evolved into the familiar countryside, the sun beginning to shine brightly high in the sky, Bucky's heart began to race once more.

He knew these roads like the back of his hand; could remember him and Rebecca running all over the small town while their mother and father yelled at them to stay close. However, the further he got into the town, the more jarring it became to see the many new houses standing within the terrain.

Houses that he had known well were turned into modern dwellings, streetlights that had never been in the area decorating every inch of the streets, and the ghost of nostalgia began to whisper when Bucky noticed that some houses from back then were still standing. Turning down a particular road, a ping from Bucky's phone made the man slow his bike and pull off to the side.

Sam: You owe me for this, Bicentennial Man. Had to ask Natasha for some help too since a lot of (Y/n)'s records were scrubbed. (Y/n) had an Aunt named Mavis Greene-Callahan that lived in Shelbyville. Her husband, Bobby Callahan, was enlisted and stationed at Camp Atterbury for a while. If she's still around, she's living on Maplewood Lane.

Bucky was surprised by the information. Maplewood Lane was only a few streets away from where he grew up. The fact that his childhood home was so close to (Y/n) in an indirect way...it made Bucky unsure how to feel, if he was honest. Surprised? Guilty? Worried? Did HYDRA keep tabs on Rebecca because of all of this too?

Bucky then continued down the street towards his destination. The first house he passed as he went deep into Shelbyville still carried the same weathered charm it had before-ugly, yellow shutters against the white alabaster paint that was in dire-need of pressure-washing.

For a brief moment, Bucky could have sworn he saw an image of Rebecca and him sitting on the porch while their father spoke to John McGowan, the owner of the home. Shaking his head, Bucky pursed his lips. He couldn't let himself get distracted by the beats of the past.

His bike slowed to a coast as he began to near Maplewood Lane, and when he spotted the large two-story house with a big sign hanging from the leaning mailbox 'Greene-Callahan!' in faded green paint, he paused. The porch was modest, a nice open porch with a worn-down rocking chair that was swaying gently in the wind. Flowerboxes were beneath the window, planted with (fave flower) that shined brightly within the sun and carried their scent to him; familiar and comforting.

The mundane sight of the home made Bucky wonder if he should disturb it, but Bucky couldn't ignore it. He had to do this. He had to. Pulling his bike into the driveway where a deteriorated bullnose Ford pickup sat, the unsightly turquoise paint fading into a pastel green from sun damage made his eyes hurt.

Kicking the stand down and sliding off of his seat, Bucky became nervous, wringing his hands together; leather crinkling as he fidgeted. The stone path that led to the porch was cracked, weeds fighting to peek between the crevices, and Bucky felt as though he was walking straight into the past.

In a way, he was.

Would she remember him too?

Standing in front of the screen door, Bucky took a deep breath and knocked on the door. An elderly woman's voice called through the door, and after some time of shuffling, the door slowly opened to reveal an old woman. As the woman looked at him, Bucky sucked in a breath.

The resemblance was there; (e/c) eyes that were kind but weathered from time, sun spots littering her skin from time tending to the garden, and her white hair was pulled into a loose bun; strands framing her face. She was wearing a modest Sunday dress that was decorated with flowers, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and her face lit up with a smile as she greeted Bucky.

"Oh, my, forgive me, dear. My legs aren't as they used to be. How may I help you?"

Her voice was kind and soft; no ounce of pain or sorrow within her words, and Bucky immediately felt terrible about having to dredge up the past; a past he wondered if the woman still remembered. His voice was unsure, unsteady as he spoke as the woman regarded him with a curious look.

"Um, hello, ma'am. My name is James...I was looking for someone who used to live here? Mavis Greene-Callahan?"

Although the woman didn't seem to mean to, her eyes squinted slightly as an air of suspicion came about her. She tilted her head, asking as she straightened up just the slightest, her weathered hands using her walker as support.

"Mavis? Well, I'm Mavis. You've come to see me?"

Bucky nodded, and he felt the anxiety begin to eat at him. How did he ask about (Y/n)? How did he broach this topic with the woman? How did he make it easy?

"Yes, ma'am. I...wanted to ask you a few questions, if you had the time? It's...it's about your niece. (Y/n) (L/n)."

Bucky noticed it immediately: Mavis faltered just the slightest; her eyes becoming tainted with the weight of the name. Her hands tightened against the walker for a moment, her lips pursing just the slightest, and she readjusted her glasses carefully as she let out a shaky breath.

"(Y/n)...now, that's a name I haven't heard in a long time. Why don't you come inside, dear? I just made some fresh lemonade! My sons are supposed to come to mow the lawn and help with my garden. I'm sure you've traveled a long way if you wish to talk about (Y/n)."

Bucky immediately reached out to hold the door open for Mavis so the screen door didn't crash into her as she slowly turned, and she gave him a thankful and sheepish smile before she turned and slowly walked inside. As Bucky stepped inside, he carefully scanned the town before closing the door behind him.

Turning, Bucky felt extremely out-of-place.

They were immediately within the living room, a light brown wallpaper decorating the walls. There was a large entertainment center with a TV that was playing the latest episode of Wheel of Fortune.

There was a small coffee table in front of a worn sofa, a couple of books stacked and a Bible currently flipped open and a candle burning that filled the living room with the scent of lavender and vanilla.

Pictures were hung on the wall, a large portrait of what Bucky assumed to be Mavis and Bobby's wedding photo. There were a few others, some Bucky immediately recognizing Doris in, and another photo caught his eye. It was Doris and Mavis with Robert and Bobby, a baby (Y/n) within Doris' arms.

You wouldn't have been able to guess that Robert and Doris were involved with HYDRA with how happy they looked.

There were a few more photos of (Y/n) as she was growing up, but the pictures seemed to jump between eras; one of (Y/n) as a child, a teenager, when she was in high school, and the last photo...

The same photo that (Y/n) clutched onto like a lifeline.

Bucky glanced at Mavis, who was still walking towards the kitchen, and Bucky followed after her. The sound of old-time country music filtered through a radio that was sitting on the ledge of a window situated right above the sink, the slightest bit of static breaking through every now and then.

A shelf was built above the outdated stove, a collection of spoons and fruit-shaped salt-n-pepper shakers with various State names on them. The tile flooring was in need of some TLC, creaking in the spots that were more commonly walked upon, and there was a dish towel hanging from the door of the oven that was printed with 'Merry Christmas! - 1957'.

There was a distant smell of freshly baked bread and a prominent scent of sugar and citrus. A large pitcher of fresh lemonade was on the counter, a couple of lemons both juiced and simply sliced were lying on a wooden cutting board that had definitely seen better days. Mavis' shaky hands reached to grab some glasses, and Bucky jumped into action.

"Here, allow me, ma'am."

Mavis was surprised, a pleasant look upon her face as she smiled and patted his shoulder; Bucky freezing and hoping she didn't notice how his left arm didn't exactly feel human.

"Oh, aren't you just the sweetest, James. Thank you. Would you mind pouring my glass for me? These damn hands don't work like they used to either."

Bucky nodded, pouring lemonades for the two of them, and he held his flesh arm out for Mavis as he helped to steady her as she sat down in a chair with homemade crocheted seat covers at the kitchen table before sitting adjacent to her, his ass immediately uncomfortable with the feeling of the cushion beneath him. Mavis adjusted her glasses before regarding James with a gentle expression.

"Now, I'm sure you have some stories to tell. It's been...a very long time since anyone has mentioned (Y/n)."

She sipped her lemonade carefully, her eyes glancing down with a twinge of sadness to them before she continued after taking a quick breath.

"Why do you ask about her?"

Bucky wasn't sure what to do. Did Mavis know about Project Achilles? Did she have any idea of what had become of (Y/n)? By the way Mavis spoke, it seemed that she was no longer aware or had simply forgotten, but Bucky knew he was going to have to rip the bandage off anyway.

"I...don't really know how to say this to you, ma'am. I don't want to drop this on you if...if you're not ready."

Mavis watched him carefully before she muttered, a strange new demeanor coming about her that had Bucky immediately on edge.

"If you're afraid to tell me of what's become of (Y/n) because of Project Achilles, don't be."

Bucky was stunned, his mouth dropping open as he stared at Mavis, and the silence between them was palpable-heavy and thick enough that it was like it began to choke him against his will. Bucky couldn't help but to ask quietly.

"You...you knew?"

Mavis closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring just the slightest as she held her frail hand to her lips. She took a deep breath before she replied softly.

"I didn't know a lot...not in the way that Doris and Robert did, but the signs...the feelings...they were there. I never got the full picture. I knew something was wrong when Doris stopped calling and sending letters, when Robert stopped allowing me to see my niece, and...she just disappeared."

Her face became sullen as her voice choked slightly, and Bucky couldn't help but to feel terrible about forcing the woman to relive memories she probably hadn't thought of in a long time.

"I tried to ask questions...knocked on doors that I shouldn't have...and HYDRA made it known that they wouldn't tolerate nosiness. Bobby...Bobby wouldn't let it go, and it cost us both."

Her eyes strayed to a large portrait of a man on the wall, a plaque beneath it listing Bobby's name. He was in his uniform, a large smile on his timeless face, and Mavis' lips smacked as she took another breath.

"Tell me...what became of her?"

Bucky took a deep breath before he revealed quietly.

"HYDRA had (Y/n) taken and made her into a Winter Soldier. Robert...Robert was in on it, cultivated the super soldier serum specifically for her."

Mavis' eyes widened, a gasp leaving her lips as she clutched her chest, and tears began to wet her eyes. Bucky took a moment to allow Mavis to process the information before he continued.

"She's still alive, and...we found her."

Mavis' hand clutched at the table, the worn wood contrasting greatly with her skin, and she whispered in shock, her eyes looking off into the distance somewhere over Bucky's shoulders.

"She's...alive? Oh, James, please...is (Y/n) alright?"

Bucky pursed his lips, murmuring truthfully.

"Not entirely. HYDRA...they did some pretty bad things to her. They made her forget everything about her life to turn her into a weapon...but since she's been found, we've been working on rehabilitating her...helping her to remember. She remembered...Shelbyville...specifically a woman named...named Rebecca Barnes, and we found you by digging into Doris and Robert's lives."

Mavis let out a small little laugh, a sound that Bucky hadn't been expecting before Mavis explained as she took her glasses off to wipe her eyes of the tears that had gathered and kissed her lashes.

"She remembered Rebecca? Oh, of course she would have."

Mavis shook her head slightly as Bucky leaned in, giving the woman his undivided attention.

"Rebecca was a part of the church, which is how I met her. A sweet young thing, she was. Rebecca would come for tea and to have my husband and I watch the kids when she needed to go into town. When I brought (Y/n) here to find some peace from the chaos that came from being in Doris' home, she met Rebecca."

Bucky couldn't help but to feel his chest cave in a little as he listened, but he tried not to let any of his emotions bleed onto his face as Mavis continued on.

"I swear, (Y/n) fell in love with Rebecca instantly! (Y/n) was a big writer, she loved to journal and scrapbook when she wasn't helping me in the garden or going to the market for groceries. Rebecca would bring her notebooks and novels to read. They would sit on the porch together to read and write together while watching the kids."

Bucky couldn't help but to smile slightly, the image of an older Rebecca befriending (Y/n) not too far-fetched. His sister had always been a friendly soul. Mavis smiled as well, tilting her head towards Bucky in an almost teasing manner.

"They were close, you know. Not in that frivolous way teenage girls sometimes cling to older women, but… Rebecca saw her. Treated her like her mind was worth something. I think that meant more to (Y/n) than she ever said out loud. (Y/n)...she held a lot of weight from the stress of homelife thanks to Robert. She wanted to be a writer...but HYDRA didn't want that."

Mavis glanced down the hallway before glancing at Bucky and she gestured to him, standing up shakily.

"Wait here for a moment, son."

Bucky was left at the table, the sound of the grandfather clock in the corner ticking loudly in time with his hammering heart; the sound of the static-laced country music echoing through his mind, and Mavis came back with a couple of worn-leather bound journals and a few letters.

"When (Y/n) left to go back to (hometown), Rebecca hadn't been able to get her address. She'd been out of town to take James and Beverly to the doctors, and wasn't able to give (Y/n) her goodbyes. She would write her letters often...but I knew that if I sent them, they would never reach (Y/n). So...I kept them...and her journals...hoping that...that one day my niece would come back."

The names James and Beverly had Bucky's mind reeling, and he couldn't help but to breathlessly stutter.

"Rebecca...named her son James?"

Mavis gave Bucky a quizzical expression before nodding and setting the letters and journals down onto the table in front of Bucky for Bucky to sift through.

"Yes. Rebecca thought it would honor her brother, who was killed in action during World War II. His full name is Nathan James Barnes-Proctor, and her daughter is Beverly Winnifred Barnes-Proctor."

It took everything within Bucky not to burst into tears, and Bucky shakily grabbed the journals. He flipped them open, careful not to tear the age-worn pages as (Y/n)'s beautiful penmanship jumped out at him.

There were certain pages that served as diary pages, and others that were hastily-scribbled story ideas that made Bucky's lips tick up slightly with amusement as the curious words and premises lit up the pages.

Some pages had a different handwriting that Bucky instantly knew was Rebecca's-her cursive looser and more rounded. There were doodles in the margins of the paper, a habit that Rebecca had since she was young. The entry that was on the page seemed to be a message from Rebecca, and Mavis elaborated with a small chuckle.

"The two of them would pass the journals off to each other like kids passing notes. It was quite endearing...and sometimes, James and Beverly would scribble their own little things in. (Y/n) was in the process of teaching them math since they weren't very good at it, and she would use her journal to let them work."

Bucky didn't respond, his eyes scanning Rebecca's handwriting over and over as he read the message written into the page.

You remind me of James sometimes. The way you scrunch your nose when you're concentrating, the way you never seem to give up—even when the odds are stacked against you...and those horrendous jokes of yours! I think you would have liked him. I think he would have liked you, too.

His fingers trembled against the edges of the page, his throat tight. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, and Bucky looked up at Mavis with an almost boyish expression of loss and surprise. Mavis murmured quietly.

"If...if these things can help (Y/n) remember...to come home...please give them to her. I'm not getting any younger...and I'd love to meet my niece again."

Bucky nodded and Mavis handed him a crochet bag to put the journals and letters in. Bucky began to pack away the journals and letters, but was stopped by Mavis holding out a tin container. Her white eyebrows were furrowed slightly, and she whispered.

"Pictures...she needs to see to remember."

Bucky nodded, thanking Mavis breathlessly.

"Thank you...Thank you. This...this helps more than you know."

Not just (Y/n), but Bucky as well. Mavis smiled at Bucky gently before walking with him to the porch. Bucky turned to Mavis, stating with a determined tone to his voice.

"I promise...I'll help her to remember so she can meet you again. Whatever it takes."

Mavis smiled wistfully before she stated fondly.

"I know you will, son."

Bucky nodded before saying his farewells, and he was careful to tuck the bag into the saddlebag that was attached to his bike. Sliding on, Bucky was stopped by Mavis' voice carrying through the Indiana breeze.

"Oh, James?"

Bucky looked up, his eyes catching the teasing quirk of Mavis' lips, a strange knowing look within her eyes that had Bucky on edge just the slightest.

"Rebecca never forgot about you...and she would have been very proud of you. Oh, and you should look into getting that metal arm of yours heated. Helps with the illusion."

Bucky felt the wind get knocked out of him, but before he could respond, Mavis was already on her way back inside. She had known this whole time? Bucky sat in the driveway for a moment, the weight of her words hitting him, and Bucky clenched his fists a bit before he fished out his dog tags from beneath his shirt. Clutching onto them, he stared down at them, even as they glinted at him in the light of the sun, and he let out a breathless huff of disbelief.

After all this time, Rebecca never forgot. The weight of the knowledge was heavy with the regret that he couldn't have been there for her; that he was never able to meet his niece and nephew, but Bucky wondered if it had been for the best.

He was glad she never knew him as he was before, but Bucky wished that he could have spoken to her one last time. Given Mavis' wording, he had to assume that Rebecca had passed. It filled him with a bittersweet sadness, and Bucky turned his bike on.

There was a part of him that was tempted to visit his childhood home; to see what Rebecca had turned the home into, but Bucky resisted. This wasn't entirely about him...but someday.

Carefully backing out of the drive, Mavis waved at him through the window, and Bucky waved back, a small smile on his face before he revved the engine and sped down the road, eager and content to get back to Wakanda.

Bucky to Sam: I owe you for a lifetime.

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STORY NOTES: Bucky has accompanied Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Clint as they travel back to the US with Rollins' to deliver him into government custody. Natasha is sitting across from Bucky, and she asks him about staying in Wakanda. Bucky affirms that he is planning to stay in Wakanda, but that he has a few things to take care of in the States. Natasha inquires about this, but Bucky refuses to tell her. He tells her that he doesn't want anybody to know what he is up to, that what he was doing was perfectly legal, and nobody would need to notify his court-appointed therapist. Natasha tells him that he will need to speak to her at some point, and Bucky tells her that he will or to have Steve tell her that Bucky is on official business and to leave him alone. When the team arrives back to the Avengers compound, Bucky tries to leave as soon as he can but is stopped by Steve. Steve asks him what is going on, and Bucky states vaguely that he wants to get a few things for (Y/n). Steve offers to help, but Bucky refuses. When Bucky gets to his bike, he immediately sets off for Shelbyville, Indiana.

When Bucky gets back to Shelbyville, he begins to reminisce about the town, remembering bits and pieces of his childhood. He is interrupted by a text from Sam, telling him of the relative that (Y/n) had stayed with during her summer excursions. In no time, Bucky arrives to Mavis Greene-Callahan's house. After some hesitation, Bucky knocks and is introduced to Mavis. Once they get settled, Mavis inquires Bucky on why he wants to ask about (Y/n), and when Bucky tries to broach the topic carefully, Mavis reveals that she knows about Project Achilles and to not be afraid to tell her about what happened to (Y/n).

Bucky is stunned, and Mavis reveals that she didn't know a lot about it, but knew something was wrong when Doris and Robert stopped contacting her. She reveals that she tried to figure out what happened along with her husband, but alludes that HYDRA killed Bobby to warn Mavis to stay out of their business. Bucky reveals that (Y/n) is alive, was found, and is currently being rehabilitated. He tells Mavis that (Y/n) remembered Rebecca and Shelbyville and that he was able to find Mavis by digging into Doris and Robert's family.

Mavis isn't surprised that (Y/n) remembered Rebecca, and tells Bucky that Mavis had met Rebecca through church and would watch her kids for her when Rebecca would go into town. When (Y/n) came to Shelbyville, that's when she met Rebecca. Mavis tells Bucky that Rebecca and (Y/n) became friends instantly and bonded over their shared love for writing. She reveals that Rebecca would often buy journals and books for (Y/n) and they would write together. Mavis tells Bucky that (Y/n) admired Rebecca because Rebecca recognized her for her mind and not her accomplishments like Robert and Doris.

Mavis then leaves to retrieve some old journals and letters from Rebecca to (Y/n) that she had kept. She explains that (Y/n) left while Rebecca was taking her kids to the doctors, and Bucky finds out that Rebecca named her son after him and her daughter after their mother. Bucky then looks through the journals, and Mavis tells Bucky that Rebecca and (Y/n) would trade the journals like children passing notes, and that the kids would often use the journals as well since (Y/n) was in the process of tutoring them in mathematics. Bucky finds an entry from Rebecca that tells (Y/n) that she reminds Rebecca a lot of Bucky, and she thinks they would have been good friends too.

Mavis then asks Bucky to give the journals and letters to (Y/n) in hopes it will make her remember and come to see Mavis, and she also gives Bucky a tin of old pictures for him to give to (Y/n) as well. Bucky promises Mavis that he will help (Y/n) to remember. Before Bucky leaves, Mavis reveals that she knew who Bucky was the whole time, and jokes that he should get his metal arm heated to uphold the illusion of a human arm. Bucky is shocked, and he then begins to mull over the knowledge that Rebecca had never forgot about him. Bucky sends a text to Sam telling him that he 'owes him for a lifetime' and then he leaves to go back to Wakanda. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

None

TAGLIST: @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter

[panerasbox]

—Haunted; 24 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader.

Genre: Angst.

Word count: 1,186.

summary: After five days of silence, you confront Melissa in the quiet of her classroom.

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERLIST

The school was a tomb when everyone else was gone. You used to crave the quiet, the stillness that followed the joyful chaos of teaching. Now, the silence just amplified the frantic drumming in your chest, each tick of the clock an echo of Melissa’s absence.

It had been five days since Tuesday. Five days of carefully orchestrated avoidance, of polite nods that didn’t quite meet her eyes. You’d played it cool, pasted a professional smile on your face for the kids and your colleagues, but underneath, a knot of anxiety tightened with each interaction – or lack thereof – with Melissa.

The memory of your last real conversation played on repeat in your mind, a broken record of hurt and fear. It had started so insignificantly, a discussion about shared resources, a petty remark from a third-grade teacher. Then, somehow, it had detonated.

“I don’t want to be a secret forever,” you’d finally confessed, the words laced with a vulnerability you rarely allowed yourself to show.

“And I don’t want to lose everything I’ve busted my ass for because some busybody sees us holding hands in the damn parking lot,” she’d retorted, the sharpness in her voice cutting you deeper than any anger. It was fear that flickered in her eyes then, a raw, exposed fear that made your own heart clench. The regret had been instant, shadowing her features, but the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken apologies.

Neither of you had backed down. Neither of you had said sorry.

Now it was Friday night. The lights hummed above you as you shuffled papers that were already neatly filed, clinging to the familiar routine, anything to delay the moment you had to leave and face a weekend knowing Melissa had gone home without a word. Again. The thought felt like a lead weight in your stomach.

Hesitantly, you found yourself outside her classroom door, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, what could be said. But the silence had become a physical ache, a betrayal of the connection you once shared.

You knocked, the sound unnaturally loud in the deserted hallway.

Nothing.

Taking a shaky breath, you pushed the door open a crack. The familiar scent of coffee and Expo markers wafted out. Melissa was hunched over her desk, her reading glasses perched low on her nose, a pen suspended above a formidable stack of quizzes. Her hand stilled, but she didn’t look up.

“You grading or hiding?” you asked, your voice betraying a tremor you hadn’t intended.

Melissa sighed, a weary sound that resonated with your own exhaustion. “What’s the difference lately?”

The words landed like a punch to the gut. You stepped inside anyway, needing to bridge the space between you, even if it felt like walking on broken glass.

Her jacket, the one with the slightly frayed collar you secretly loved, was draped over the back of her chair. The desk lamp cast a warm, inviting glow, a stark contrast to the harsh overhead lights. It was a familiar scene, a snapshot of her life you were usually a part of. Tonight, it just amplified the ache of your separation.

“Look,” you started, the word catching in your throat. The weight of the past five days pressed down on you, making the words feel impossibly heavy.

“You and I walk this…line,” you finally managed, the metaphor feeling fragile and inadequate. “Like we’re always a step away from falling off either side. And I knew it. From the start, I knew it wasn’t gonna be easy. I knew the risks.”

Melissa finally looked up, her expression guarded, unreadable. That scared you more than anger ever could.

“But I didn’t think I’d live to see it actually break,” you admitted, the raw honesty tearing at the carefully constructed wall you’d built. “And now it just feels…quiet. And wrong. Like something essential is missing.”

She didn’t say anything, just set the pen down with a soft click. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words.

“I don’t trust what we are right now,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, “and I don’t know if you do, either. But I’m tired of pretending we weren’t something. We are something, Melissa.”

Melissa leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms defensively. “You think I don’t know that?” Her tone held a hint of exasperation, a flicker of the Melissa you knew.

“Then why do you look at me like I’m the mistake? Like I’m the one who’s going to mess everything up for you?”

She flinched, a subtle tightening around her eyes. “I never said that.”

“No, but it’s all over you. In the way you avoid my gaze in the teachers' lounge, the way you rush past me in the halls. Like you’re bracing for this to end because it has to, because it was always going to. Like I’m a liability.”

A long beat of silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Then, Melissa stood, her movements slow and deliberate. She walked around the desk, her gaze fixed on the floor, until she was standing just inches away from you. Her voice was low, almost a plea.

“I’m scared, alright? Terrified.”

“I know,” you whispered, your own fear mirroring hers.

“I’ve worked my whole damn life to be taken seriously. You know how hard it was to get where I am. To have the respect of the parents, the principal… And now I feel like one wrong move, one stupid rumor, and I lose it. Not just my job. My reputation. Everything I’ve built.” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, revealing the depth of her anxiety.

You swallowed, the question feeling like a lead weight in your chest. “So you’d rather lose me?”

The question hung there, unanswered, a stark representation of the precariousness of your situation.

Her eyes softened, finally meeting yours with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. “I don’t want to lose you,” she admitted, the words barely audible.

“Then stop pushing me away,” you pleaded, reaching out a hand but stopping short of touching her, afraid of rejection.

Melissa reached up, her hand trembling slightly as her fingers brushed the side of your face. The touch was hesitant, fragile, but undeniably real. You leaned into it instinctively, just a fraction, and that small movement seemed to break the dam. She stepped closer, closing the remaining space between you, closer than colleagues should ever stand.

“You scare the hell out of me,” she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

“You make me feel like I finally found something worth fighting for,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion.

It wasn’t a grand reconciliation, no dramatic kiss in the deserted classroom, no sweeping promises of a future free from fear. Just this – her hand cupping your cheek, your forehead leaning against hers, both of you breathing in the familiar scent of each other like it was the first breath you’d taken in days.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

For now.

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter six

Synopsis: You still cannot believe what happened yesterday, and the guilt is starting to eat you up. Asshole or not, Rex did not deserve that. Probably… It’s time to apologize, but you’re not sure he even wants to see you, let alone listen.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Chapter: 6/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Alcohol, Descriptions of Wounds

Note: I really liked writing this chapter, I hope you guys like it too :3 I think dialogue is sometimes a weak point of mine, but I really tried for some good banter

“What?”

“It’s nothing, I am glad you were able to figure it out.”

“Figure it out? Cecil, you sent me into the Guardians Headquarters never having fought a fuckin’ fly and winning. You don’t think that will raise suspicions?” You could feel the anger rising in you, maybe it was not directly at Cecil, but he was not helping. You could still feel the sting on your pride of Rex refusing your help. Even worse you could see the hurt in his eyes as he backed away from you. Just when you thought you were making progress. “You’re the one who is asking me to keep all these secrets and telling me it’s to their benefit! Where is the proof of that Cecil?”

“Look, kid, calm down. I promise it was good for you-”

“I am sorry I messed up Cecil, I should not have said those things to them the other night, but why would this be your go-to punishment?” You exclaimed, holding a few fingers to your temple.

“Kid. This wasn’t a punishment.” His face was extremely serious at this. “I wanted to make sure you could work well with the Guardians before putting you on the field with them. I noticed Rex was giving you the most trouble, and I figured if you could make it work, then I would know.”

“Putting me on the field?” You ran a hand through your hair, you were in too deep. “Cecil I hardly know how to fight, I hardly have more strength than the average person-”

“Approximately 6.7 times the strength of the average person-”

“That’s nothing compared to these other heroes who are twenty or one hundred times stronger-” You quickly turned to look at the new voice. “Donald, why are you even here?”

“God.” Cecil ran a hand over his face, then continued once you turned back to him. “You have to learn how to utilize your powers when you are in the field.”

“But you said-”

“Not to let the others know, I know what I said. You can be discrete about it Killdeer. You just punched Rex and left a fuckin’ crater in his chest. I want to see you do more like that.” He nods at Donald, who leaves the room. “Lights.”

The white room around you dissipates and you’re in your study area. The ReAnimen is still on the gurney at the back wall, and the blood bag filled with Viltrumite blood remains near it.

“I want you to practice what you learned on this guy.” Cecil stepped towards it, holding out some sort of device that with a click of a button caused it to sit up on its own volition. It slid off the edge in a clunky fashion that made your skin crawl. If it had nerve endings that would have felt quite painful. It stood at the other wall adjacent to the gurney, swaying in an unnatural way. You looked at it with a furrowed brow before stepping forward to look at the blood bag closer again. It could not be good to leave this out at room temperature. Did Cecil have it taken out every time you left the room, and returned every time you came back?

“Do I ever get to meet Invincible- Mark Grayson?” The question was sudden and uncalled for, a direct contrast to the conversation you were having. It was something you had been stewing on for a bit, and looking at his blood bag brought it back to the surface. You knew he worked closely with the Guardians and Cecil at several points, so it was bound to happen. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a little impatient.

“Mark?” Cecil slowly turned back to you; his head cocked ever so slightly.

“Well, I just was thinking about it. I have met all the Guardians, and I have been able to keep fairly good connections there-” Rex flashed in your mind, and you winced at the wound you had left him with “Well… mostly.” You looked at the ReAnimen and ran a hand over the blood bag. “And…I think” You paused again, debating on if you wanted to tell Cecil this new discovery. “Well, I noticed when I was training with Rex that the longer I spend in combat with him the more of a grip I got on his life source.” You tried to put it lightly. “It almost became difficult not to use my abilities on Rex, I wonder if it’s a defense mechanism of some sort.” You looked back at Cecil “But I wonder if being around Mark would help me get that mental connection with his blood.”

“His blood,” Cecil repeated, walking towards you and looking at the blood bag. His eyes quietly ran over it as you removed your hand. Maybe he didn’t know you knew whose blood it was? He knew you had access to the files though, why is he so hesitant? “If what you are saying is true, why would being around him help you? Rex was fighting you, ideally Invincible will not be.”

“I figure if I concentrate on it then maybe it still would be better? Cecil, not that long ago I was struggling to make ripples in blood bags, and yesterday I just caused one of the most severe hematomas I have ever seen. You said it yourself.” Shaking the recurring image of Rex from your mind, you put a hand on your hip straightening up to look him fully in the eye. “I am able to learn better from live subjects.” You gestured to the ReAnimen. “There might be blood in that, but it’s not flowing, it not…alive. Merely biological matter, I do not have that strong of a connection to it-”

“Invincible is a lot different than the Guardians, there are a lot higher stakes-”

“I know!” You said with mild frustration but took a breath as Cecil narrowed his eyes at you. “I know.” You repeated. “But as far as Viltrumite blood goes, I am making zero progress sitting here with the bag. Maybe once I can feel the live thing I can come back and connect to this.” You gesture vaguely to the blood bag. “And…”

You pause for a moment debating whether to ask. You had drastically better results on Rex than you did on the ReAnimen, you should be practicing with live people. But the ethics on that gets very muddy, very quickly. Sure, Cecil had his own agenda for you, one he was not letting you in on, but now you wanted to get better. You were motivated by it. When Cecil found you there was no doubt in your mind that you knew exactly what you wanted and who you wanted to be. You considered becoming a nurse originally, helping one patient at a time. That turned out well.

After your training with Rex, you fully started to grasp the world that you might be able to enter now. You did not have to be some kind of mutant among humans. You could work in alliance with a team. You weren’t stupid though. Cecil saw you as an asset, and it was not because of your personality. When you thought about it, you wondered if Cecil had bad intentions, but after working with him so long you genuinely believed he wanted what was best for the people. The question was, as you grow your abilities, how long until he sees you as not what is best for the people?

You saw Mark Grayson as the epitome of what a hero should try to be, fighting his own father for the safety of the planet. And now that that was done you were here. And Cecil obviously was hoping you could be backup if Mark changed his mind and decided he agreed with his father’s past sentiment. Did he have a backup for you? Had he thought that far ahead? This is Cecil, of course he had.

You closed your mouth rewording what you were going to say. “Next time the Guardians go out I want to be told. I want to go. Not sometime off in the future.”

“Out of the question, I want you to be combat-ready, you’ve made good progress kid, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“What do you want me to do Cecil? You just said you wanted me out with the Guardians on the field. Now I am agreeing with you what changed?”

“Nothing changed, you will be combat-ready, and you will be discrete. But you simply are not ready yet.”

“Every time they answer one of your calls and I am not at the scene to meet them it must be more and more suspicious. How long until the Guardians call this bullshit? I am happy to be somewhat in the dark Cecil-” happy was a bit too enthusiastic of a word for it “because I trust you, but that’s because I know I am doing good. Do the Guardians trust you that much? Does Rudy?” You pause pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead, then slowly look back up at Cecil. “Does Rex?”

Cecil stops for a breath, his eyes drilling holes into you.

“Next small infraction I’ll send you. But you alone. If you want to practice then practice, we’ll watch from here. Make sure you make it.”

Sweet!

…

Make sure you make it?

“Okay, that’s- that’ll work.” You nod quickly, a little surprised. You were half expecting that Cecil would just say no and leave.

Cecil goes back to leave again and hesitates, “Try not to lose your brains this time hm?” He gestures to the ReAnimen still waiting for you to initiate practice.

“Sorry-” You gave an awkward smile, rubbing your neck, but before you could finish what must have been your millionth apology to Cecil in the past week he was gone. Guess he was not trying to reduce his teleportation uses. The blue static remained in the air after his passing for a moment.

This was good, you were going to be able to engage in real practice. Not just play in the kiddy pool. You ran your hand over your scalp, fingers tangling in your hair. Well, you had real practice yesterday… and look how that turned out. You sighed quietly, feeling yourself fall into the position Rex had shown you, as you took your first swing you knew that you were going to have to apologize. But how do you make someone who already hated you forgive you for giving them such a blow?

__

The answer was alcohol. At least you hoped.

You twisted the cheap plastic bow on the neck of the bottle nervously in your hand as you waited for the elevator to take you up to the dormitory section of Headquarters. It crinkled obnoxiously to the point you considered ripping it off. Your head ached. But you didn’t go so far you were admitted to the hospital again, so that was a win in your mind.

Rae was the first to see you when you walked in, which you were very glad for. She was the friendliest and most helpful face to you in headquarters. Bulletproof and Shapesmith did not seem bad, but they were less inclined to naturally want to help you. Or in the case of Shapesmith, they did not seem to know they were breathing.

After a very quick conversation with Rae, she told you Rex had been held up in his room, he had not come down for training or any meals. She shrugged it off though, saying this was not uncommon. With which you tried to make yourself feel better. And it did not seem like Rae knew why you were looking for him. Which hopefully meant he was not spreading around your mistake. But it might also just be because he did not want to come across as weak, sporting that big of a bruise after your first training session.

An uncomfortable pit started to develop in your stomach. It was not the usual one when you knew you had to interact with him, usually dread fed by annoyance.

No, you were nervous. It was not backed by anger or even your knowledge that Rex on some level probably deserved this a little bit. You were nervous he would turn you away, refuse to look at you.

Would it really be that bad for Rex Splode to decide to ignore you? A little awkward maybe, especially if Cecil pulled a stunt like that again. But it definitely would not be the end of the world, right? You couldn’t stand the guy.

You could not stand him.

You straightened your back, looking at the door in front of you, it had a very handy plaque that let you know you were at the right room. You held your hand out, fist clenched, ready to knock, and you…hesitated.

You rolled your neck, frustration rising, this really was not that hard. Just knock. Just knock on the damn door come on-

“Hello?”

Your gaze snapped to the sound of the voice. It was feminine and unfamiliar. You quickly realized why. It was Duplikate, a member you had only talked to once so far with your slow integration into the team.

Suddenly you were holding the bottle down behind your leg, which as soon as you did this her eyes trailed down to follow it. Why did you just do that? Way to make yourself look as suspicious as possible.

“I’m just here to see Rex.” You say dryly. WHY DOES THIS FEEL SO WEIRD?

It’s because you do not want anyone looking into Rex further, knowing more about the extent of your powers. Cecil was getting into your head, goddamn it.

But what if that wasn’t the only reason you didn’t like being caught outside his door?

“Quick house call?” She said, her eyes narrowing slightly. Okay actually, why does she care? You were starting to get annoyed, maybe because you had already hit the peak of how awkward you could feel today, and your head was still killing you from practice earlier.

“Something like that.”

“In his room?”

Hello?

You shifted a little uncomfortably. “He hasn’t been down yet, Rae told me he was up here.”

Kate stood there several moments too long staring you down, and for a moment you considered just leaving. Maybe that would be better than whatever this pathetic attempt at forgiveness was.

Finally, she not-so-subtly rolled her eyes and passed you to the elevator. You watched as the light above the elevators frame lit up to indicate it was going down and finally turned your attention back to the door. You deciding to knock before you got in your head about it again.

There was no response.

You waited a few moments then knocked again to which you heard an annoyed groan, “One day off dickhead!”

Well at least he doesn’t sound like he’s dying.

With that confirmation, you slowly open the door. It is dim inside the room; he had probably been lounging in bed. It was surprisingly not as messy as you thought it would be. There were some drink remnants on a desk and random magazines around with houses on the front. The kind you see elderly people read at bus stops. Rex was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“I said-! Oh shit.” His gaze immediately landed on you once he lifted his head slightly off his hands, and then it trailed down to your attempt at peace that you held tightly in your hands. He did not say anything, but he did straighten up a little as it seemed to fully dawn on him that you were standing in the doorway.

“Hi.” That’s it? All that freaking out and intense grappling with guilt and that’s all you start with.

“Hi.” Promising. That’s not a ‘get out dickhead, I helped you and you did that to me, GET OUT’ so you’ll take it. His expression was surprisingly soft, was he already drinking?

“I feel really bad about yesterday and I don’t want it to be a whole thing, you know?” Oh, very sympathetic. You winced at your accidental nonchalant tone.

“A whole thing?” He raised an eyebrow at you, straightening all the way up, his hands landing on the mattress to lean on. He still was wearing that grey tank top, and in the dim light, you could see the bruise that was very prevalent over the collar of it. It looked worse than yesterday.

“That’s not what I meant.” You close the door behind you and immediately Rex perks up. You hold out the bottle to him, hoping it portrays your intentions better than your words are.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He gives you a snarky smile and just like that your anxiety dries up a little. He seems less pathetic now, so you don’t feel the need to tip-toe around his feelings.

“I’m saying sorry.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“I know.”

“Multiple times.”

“I know.”

“I said to leave it be.”

“I know.”

“Yet here you are, alone in my room, offering me a drink?” Ah. Kate’s reaction was feeling a lot more valid now.

“Don’t let it go to your head, it’s cheap.” You nudge it towards him again, and he takes it with a sigh, probably directed at you not taking part in his banter.

“Nice bow.” He said dryly, his fingers brushing over the twisted plastic you had forgotten about during your interaction outside his door.

“Thanks, it cost extra.” You decided to look around his room a bit, even though you knew he probably did not want you to.

There were a few pictures on the wall, some of Teen Team, and a few just of him. Which you thought screamed how huge his ego was. Narcissism must run strong with him. Your eyes paused on a picture of him and a redhead, she was the one taking it, and his arm was over her shoulder. You definitely recognized her; she had been in the files, but you could not place her. She was in several of the photographs, wearing a pink suit in the one of the Teen Team.

“So, was there anything else you wanted?” Rex’s low voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to look at him again.

He had just been drinking straight out of the bottle. Now his was hand clenched loosely around it as it hung just a few inches above the floor. You debated for a moment reiterating your offer from yesterday.

“I-”

Rex winced slightly, his free hand immediately reaching up to his chest. It would have been missable if you were still looking at the wall.

“I want to fix that.” You said shortly, folding your arms over your chest.

“No.”

“Why?”

“How do I know you’re not going to make it worse? You did the fuckin’ thing in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes walking up to him. “Rex, be serious for five seconds, I was brought on as a healer. Why not let me do my one purpose huh?”

“One purpose my balls.”

“Very mature.”

“Look, I just don’t want it okay? Back off.”

“It obviously hurts; you’ve been in your room all day-”

“No I haven’t, who said that?”

“Rae.”

“Ugh.”

You’re losing your patience, and he is acting like a child. You step towards him, and he has to strain his neck back slightly to look up at you.

“Let me help you and I’ll leave, you won’t have to hear from me until the next time Cecil makes me come to Headquarters. Don’t let me help you and I’ll be back every day, and I’m taking that with me.” You gesture to the liquor in his hand.

He sighs. “Every day?”

You nod, and he looks to the side, obviously debating.

“Will it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Are you lying?”

“A little.”

He grumbles but finally gives a small nod. You grab the chair from his desk and pull it in front of him.

“Woah, can’t you just heal it from over there or some shit?” He has his hand on the front of the chair and is pushing it away.

“No.”

“No, you can’t or no you won’t?” God this guy never shuts up.

“I have to have direct contact with the skin to heal.”

“Are you just trying to get me to take my shirt off?” He gives you a cheesy smile which you respond to with an exceedingly unimpressed look. “Fine. Jeez.” He lets go of the chair and you sit down. He puts down the bottle and moves gingerly to take off the tank top. A slight groan left him at the movement.

It looks a lot worse today, the edges are yellowing, and you can still see the blood pooling under his skin. It is honestly a little grotesque to look at.

You scoot the chair closer, sitting directly between his legs. He doesn’t say anything, but he leaned back slightly as you got closer. You look at him, silently telling him you are going to start. Your dominant hand cautiously reached out and your fingertips made tender contact with his skin. He was practically radiating heat. His body was desperately trying to heal this, and quickly.

After closing your eyes you felt the connection click, the healing process beginning.

“The fuck?” Rex tensed, closing his eyes tightly.

“I warned you.”

“Hardly!”

“You should feel what it’s like with a broken bone, it’s so much weirder.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Why are you assuming I’m trying to make you feel better?”

Rex doesn’t respond. He is sitting quietly now, it’s almost too quiet. You can hear his breathing, the slight hitches as the pain ebbs and flows. You could feel the pace of his heart under your hand. Elevated. Pain will do that.

You could feel something else now, his eyes on your face. He was watching you. It almost made you dig your fingers in. Determined to make him look away. Instead, you pretended you could not feel his gaze and returned your focus to your job.

All of this bullshit just for him to give in at the chance of you taking back cheap liquor. You almost rolled your eyes. He was so aggravating. But even you knew that you didn’t like the idea of him hating you. Sure, he could dislike you, he had no problem making that clear. But why did he have to vehemently hate you? It would be easier if you thought he was no one of consequence. But he was one of the good guys. You knew his file, the kind of work he did, especially after Omniman and Invincible’s big fight.

Maybe it just bothered you that an ass could still do good things. That was it. You were jealous even. You couldn’t imagine being carefree enough to just be rude to whoever.

That’s not entirely true, you did not find it particularly hard to be mostly nice, but still. It was really getting under your skin.

Suddenly you’re vocalizing it.

“Why do you hate me?” You asked softly, you could still feel his gaze watching you. Your hand gently pressed against the brunt of the wound. You could feel it mending but you had to move slowly, especially with how close you came with the ReAnimen earlier.

“Who said I hated you, Joy?”

“You have been rude to me since the day we met. You don’t even call me my real name.” You shifted your gaze up to his for a moment, his eyes were half-lidded, staring into yours.

After a moment he looked away and took a swig of the drink. “You don’t deserve to be on the Guardians.” Stale, old, overused.

“And that’s it? Something completely out of my control and you use that to hate me?”

“You could tell Cecil you don’t want to be a part of it.”

You gritted your teeth and focused on his chest again, the bruise was shrinking in diameter, a minute or so and he’d be good as new. It was back to the tense silence, but now there was a buzz of irritation. Maybe it was coming from both of you, but it was definitely coming from you.

One minute and you could just leave, or maybe you could just leave it partially healed, it’s not like he deserves much more than that. Pompous, arrogant-

“I don’t hate you.”

You didn’t respond. The remaining time moved extremely slow. With every second that passed you could almost swear you could feel the rhythmic thumping of his heart more.

And then you were done. The ugly purple and yellow coloring was gone and with it the pain. You absent-mindedly trailed your fingers over his skin, making sure you were done. He stiffened slightly and you pulled your hand back. Rex lets out a slow, shaky, exhale. And you’re putting the chair back at the desk.

“I don’t hate you.” He repeats as you are pulling his door open to leave.

Your eyes linger on his face, he’s giving a sad excuse of a slight smile. It almost irks you.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” You retort, leaving him behind you and closing the door.

Author's Note: I am trying out using a fic specific tag at the request of @kittymeowmrow but I am really new to Tumblr so let me know if I am doing it wrong?

divider credit: @/ saradika

[ugotnojamzzz]

Rulers of Ruin

Chapter 17

Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: Jungkook about to feel real stupid. Trigger Warning (violence)

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language. Also, don’t come for me over the theme, people. It’s an Alternate Universe, which means the bangtan boys are essentially what I like to call meat puppets to serve the storyline. This is obviously not a projection of their actual real-life personas.

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist

Chapter 16

—

Jungkook had expected the return to fieldwork to feel like a release. It didn’t.

He shifted in the passenger seat, stretching out his legs. The mission was dull, the waiting worse.

Beside him, Jimin drummed a lazy rhythm against the steering wheel, like he wasn’t really paying attention. « You’ve been quiet, » he finally said.

Jungkook shrugged, « not much to say. »

“I expected you to break out into song,” the blonde boy smiled. “Free at last.”

He heard a scoff. “You have no fucking idea.”

Jimin smirked. “She really got under your skin, huh?”

“She’s a spoiled brat with a superiority complex and a mouth that doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up,” Jungkook retorted, staring straight ahead. “Always prancing around like the world owes her something.”

Jimin didn’t answer right away.

He just stared through the windshield, the sharp angles of his face washed in cold light, the soft thump of his thumb against the wheel gone still.

“You know,” he finally spoke, “You don’t know her half as well as you think you do.”

Jungkook turned his head sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jimin shrugged without looking at him. “Just saying.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jungkook said, voice taut. “Didn’t know you were an expert on Park fucking Y/N”

Jimin gave a short laugh. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

« I’m not, » he paused, « But I know more than you do. That’s for sure. »

That made Jungkook go still.

“It’s not your fault,” Jimin added, voice easy, almost sympathetic. “You’re local. Born into this side of the map. So your idea of a mafia princess is—what? Taehyung’s sister? Maybe one of the Kang triplets? Trust fund, pearls, tennis lessons and obnoxious laughter—set to marry some bored chaebol son with too much gel in his hair.”

He paused, watching Jungkook from the corner of his eye.

“You’re applying city-boy logic to a place that doesn’t play by the same rules. Where she’s from, the game’s different. »

Jungkook’s jaw ticked once. “Go on then, I’m dying to hear it.”

Silence.

A long silence stretched between them.

Jimin’s jaw tensed.

“You know I don’t talk about my time with the Ravens.”

Jungkook’s head snapped toward him, surprised.

Jimin wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t looking at anything. Just out the windshield. Still as stone.

But Jungkook noticed the way his hand had curled into a fist on the wheel. The cloudy gaze. The sudden, quiet violence of memory pressing in behind his eyes.

It was true.

Jimin never talked about the time he’d spent up north. Never said much of anything about the years before he wore the tiger crest. Never talked about the frozen streets or the backwater towns or the border patrols. About what he’d done as a member of the Park clan. About what they’d done to him.

Something unspoken flickered between them—something heavy.

“But,” Jimin sighed, “if it’ll get you to stop whining for five minutes—”

Jungkook blinked.

Jimin finally turned his head—just slightly—eyes darker than they’d been all night.

“Maybe I’ll give you a sliver.”

Then he shifted in his seat, one hand still white-knuckled on the wheel

Jungkook leaned back in his seat. Let the quiet settle. Let Jimin choose.

He didn’t press.

Didn’t push.

And eventually, the blonde boy spoke again.

Low.

Measured.

Like every word cost something

“You know I wasn’t born into all that,” he said. “Not even close.” That was true. Back then he’d been no more than some kid from the south end of the border towns—farm dirt under his nails, holes in his shoes. The kind of poor you don’t escape from, not unless you’re lucky—or ruthless.

He laughed, bitter and brief.

“The Ravens—they weren’t just a clan. They were legends. You saw one walk into town and the whole place went quiet. They didn’t beg, they didn’t boast. They didn’t have to. Just the way they stood said enough. Joining them was like—being chosen by Gods.”

His voice got softer. More distant.

“My brother and I used to hang around old bases out there. Hoping one of them would notice us. They never did, of course. We were just stray mutts. But we got to see a bunch—how they moved, how they fought. The fear they inspired. We didn’t care that they were brutal. All we saw was the power. The freedom that came with it. If you were good enough to survive, you didn’t just live—you mattered.”

He paused. Let it settle.

“And then there was her.”

Jungkook stiffened.

“She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine the first time I saw her,” Jimin said. “Little thing. Skipping rope, ribbons in her hair. She used to draw chalk lines on the base floor and play hopscotch between drills. Everyone thought she’d be sent south eventually—especially after her mom was killed—boarding school, maybe, or some other fancy place. They didn’t let girls in the clan so nobody thought she’d ever be inducted.”

His jaw clenched.

“But then one day—it just happened.” Jimin’s memories sharpened, vivid as though he were still standing in the snow-covered town. “I remember like it was yesterday. It was the middle of January. Cold enough to kill. Word spread fast—she’d been sent out there. Daddy’s orders.”

Jungkook froze. The initiation. He’d heard rumours of the Park clan’s initial test. Whispers.

“I was thirteen at the time, so that would’ve made her—ten or eleven. It’s usually reserved for boys, no younger than seventeen. Still, there was no special treatment. Same as for any other. One day you just—wake up somewhere far beyond the northern border and have to make it back across on your own. No compass. No gear. No warning. Just—tossed like trash in the backcountry in the middle of the night. Most don’t live to tell the tale.”

Jimin’s voice dropped.

“And everyone assumed that was the point.”

Silence.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, but Jimin didn’t look at him. His eyes were fixed on something far away, something only he could see.

“See, her father—old bastard—people whispered that he’d done it on purpose,” Jimin continued, his tone bitter. “That he wanted her gone. Weeding out the weak, and all that. He already had a son so she wasn’t exactly useful. And the Ravens never come for their lost birds. Once you were out there, you were on your own.”

Jimin’s hand clenched into a fist, the leather of the seat creaking faintly under the pressure. “By the third day, everyone assumed she was dead.”

Jungkook could feel the knot tightening in his stomach.

“I mean—there was a foot of snow outside. She couldn’t possibly have lasted a day, let alone a week.”

Jimin’s voice sharpened—like a blade honed in memory.

“No food. No shelter. Sub-zero wind that’d crack your lips off. And let me tell you—out there? It’s not just the wilderness. Rabid dogs and bears are the least of your worries. It’s hunters. Poachers. Lawless people. The civilians are destitute and wretched far beyond what you and I could ever comprehend. That level of despair—of hunger—it drives people mad—makes them cut-throat. Not something a little girl should ever have to witness first-hand. And that’s still better than what’s waiting if you get caught by their armed forces. »

Jungkook’s stomach turned. He’d heard the horror stories of what happened to those caught in the northern country.

« Still, » Jimin said, « one morning—there she was. Limping barefoot through the snow. »

Jimin could still see it. Head bleeding. Pajamas torn to shreds. Covered in blood—some dried, some still fresh—some hers, some not. Her hair matted with it. Her skin was purple, both from bruising and from the freezing cold.

“The townsfolk were the first to spot her,” Jimin said. “We didn’t get close. Superstition runs deep out there, and most of us thought she must’ve been a ghost. And then the Ravens came. Not to help—just to make sure the rules were followed. No one touches a pledge until they’re done crossing.”

He swallowed hard. “So she did. Barely. She could hardly stay upright. Finally, her father stepped out of the crowd—cruel son of a bitch—you’d think he’d have the decency of wrapping her in his coat. Let it only be to shield her from the gaze of his men. He didn’t. Just tossed a pocket knife at her feet expecting her to finish the job.”

Jungkook knew what he meant.

The cut.

What eventually heals to be a scar. The raven scar. The consecration of one’s entrance into the Park clan. He’d seen it on her arm. He’d also seen in on Jimin’s.

“She bent down. Picked it up. But her hands were shaking so bad she nicked an artery. Collapsed head-first in the snow before the blood even dried.”

Jungkook gulped. He turned in his seat now. “And what—they just—watched?”

“That’s the deal,” Jimin said coldly. “You have to do it yourself. No help. No pity. You finish it alone or not at all.”

A long silence followed.

“They did drag her inside eventually,” Jimin finally said. “I heard the fever that followed came close to taking her out. But she woke up. »

There was a beat of silence.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably. Shame rising in his throat.

“Well, That’s—fucked up,” he muttered, voice low. His throat was dry.

“She was a Raven,” Jimin said, flat. Final. “And the moment she crossed that border, she stopped being anything else. She was tossed out a scared little girl—she came back a soldier.”

He let the weight of that hang in the air, then added, quieter:

“I didn’t see her much after that.”

Jungkook turned slightly, but Jimin’s gaze stayed fixed out the window, distant.

By the time his own induction had come around a few years later, YN had already paid her dues. She was still a kid. But now fully trained and field-tested. She didn’t bother with newcomers. Most of her time was spent on the front lines. Not for glory—but to prove she belonged. To earn respect. Every mission, every scar, a step closer to the ghost of something she’d only ever seen once: the flicker of recognition in her father’s eyes, as she lay half-dead in the snow.

« Why are you telling me all this? »

« Because, » Jimin rolled his eyes, « watching you talk out of your ass is getting exhausting. »

He leaned back in his seat, face shadowed.

“You think she’s privileged?” he added. “An infuriating,  calculating bitch? Maybe she is. But make no mistake, that girl earned her place in blood and blisters. You don’t get to call her soft when she survived what would’ve gutted most men.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. Couldn’t. He just stared ahead, the image of her—broken, frostbitten, knife in her hand—burned into his brain like a brand.

—

—

Okay, the world-building continues. now you know a little bit more about Y/N and her background. Hope you liked it!!

Chapter 18

Masterlist

Taglist

@princess-sunshyn

@loumin908

@mageprincess7

@drunkzseok

[llamaqueenprompt]

What You Mean to Me

Characters: Evan Buckley, Reader

Not Requested

Word Count: 1.6k

Inspiration: "You don't even realize what you mean to me"

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As he walks in the firehouse feels different.

Not in any obvious way. The lights are dimmed, the hum of the fridge still buzzes in the background, and someone left their coffee mug in the sink again. But Buck can feel it. Like the air’s heavier. Or maybe it’s just him.

He moves slowly through the halls, each step eachoing back louder than the last, like the firehouse is holding it’s breathe just like him. He’s still reeling. Still trying to process everything Abby said. Everything she didn’t say.

He tought it would give him closure. Seeing her again. Hearing her voice. Actually talking to her. But if anything it just peeled open wold wounds that had never fully healed.

She’s getting married. She’s finally happy again. And Buck? Buck is standing here, heart cracked open and filled with the image of someone else entirely.

Y/n.

He finds her in the back office, exactly where he knew she’d be. She’s leaning over her desk cluttered with paperwork and half-empty coffee cups, her glasses sliding down her nose and a pen twirling between her fingers. She looks tired, like she’s been working too long. Like maybe she’s been waiting up.

When she sees him, she glances up, and the second their eyes meet, something shifts.

“Hey,” she says, softly. Gently. Like she’s afraid she might startle him away. “You’re back.”

He nods, his throat thick. “Yeah. Just got in.”

Y/n straightens, setting the pen down carefully. “How… how did it go?”

Buck leans agaisnt the doorframe, arms folded across his chest to offer him a sense of security. “We talked. About the train. About…everything.”

She nods, and her eyes flick away, like she doesn’t want him to see what she’s thinking. But he sees it anayway, the flicker od pain, the way her shoulders tense.

“She’s engaged,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “She met someone. Moved on.”

There’s a long silence.

Y/n swallows hard. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

But he shakes his head, stepping into the room. “No. Don’t be. That’s not why I’m here.”

She watches him carefully, warily. Like she’s bracing herself.

And she has every right to. Because what they had, what they have, has always lived on a fragile space. Somewhere between friendship and something more. Something unspoken. Their arrangement started with laughter and tequile and whispered “just this once” promises that turned into every night, and breakfast, and inside jokes, and familiarity that felt an awful lot like home.

They acted like a couple. They felt like one.

But Buck never let them be one. Not completely. Not whule Abby still haunted the edges of his heart.

And Y/n… God, Y/n stayed. She never asked for more. But he saw it. In the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. In the way she said goodbye a little too softly each time he left her apartment.

She loved him. And he let her sit in silenece with it all this time.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, and his voice wavers.

Y/n tilts her head, her hands curling around the edge of the desk. She doesn’t speak. Just waits.

“When Abby left,” Buck begins, “I felt like I’d lost a part of myself. Like I wasn’t enough. Like I’d been left behind.” He lets out a shaky breath. “And then you came in. All sharp wit and warm smiles and coffee with may too much cream. You made everything lighter, Y/n. You made me lighter.”

She blinks fast, her lips parting, but he keeps going.

“And I told myself it wasn’t real. That if I didn’t name it, it couldn’t hurt. That if I pretended it didn’t mean anything, I could keep you without the risk of losing you.”

Her voice is barely a whisper. “But you were still holding onto her.”

He nods. “I was. And that’s not fair to you. It never was.”

Y/n looks down at her hands, her fingers tightening. “I told myself I could handle it. That I could keep you in pieces instead of not having you at all. But it hurt, Buck. Watching you love a ghost while I stood right in front of you.”

“I know,” he says, his chest tight. “And I’m so sorry for that. I should’ve said this a long time ago. I should’ve seen it. Seen you.”

He steps closer, close enought now that he can see the shine in her eyes, the way she’s holding herself still like she’s afraid one wrong move will make everything fall apart.

“I don’t know when it happened,” he says softly. “Maybe the night you stayed up with me after I got hurt. Or when you showed up at the hospital with snacks you knew I wouldn’t eat but brought anyway. Or that morning you kissed my forehead and didn’t realize I was already awake.”

Her breath hitches.

“I just know I looked at you tonight, and everything clicked. I didn’t want to go back in time. I didn’t want to rewrite anything with Abby. I just wanted to come home. To you.”

He reaches for her hand, hesitates, then wraps his fingers around hers when she doesn’t pull away.

“You don’t even realize what you mean to me,” he hesitates. “But I want you to. I want to show you. If you’ll let me.”

Y/n’s eyes close for a moment, and when she open them, they’re glassy with tears.

“You really mean that?” she asks, voice trembling.

He cups her cheek, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “With everything I’ve got.”

And then she’s pulling him in.

No hesitation, no fear, just her resting her arms around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair like she’s afraid if she’s not touching him as much as possible, he’ll disappear aagain. Buck doesn’t waste a seconf. He holds her back just as tightly, his face buried in her shoulder, like maybe if he presses close enoigh, all the pieces of him, she’s quietly been carrying, will finally come home.

For a moment, neither of them speak. They just breathe. One another. Their feelings for each other.

The silence stretches, but it’s not awkward or heavy. It’s safe. Intimate. The kind of silence that only comes when words aren’t big wnough to hold everything between two people.

Eventually, Y/n pulls back just enough to look at him, her forehead still resting gently against his. Her eyes search his face, as if she’s memorizing the way he looks he looks at her like she is his world.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” she murmurs, the corners of her mouth trembling with the beginnings of a smile.

He exhales a soft laugh, one hand still resting on her wais. “I think I’ve been saying it without words for months. I just didn’t realize it.”

Y/n runs her fingers through his hair, slow and tentative, like she’s still trying to convince herself she isn’t dreaming. “I used to imagine this moment. You showing up, saying you wanted me. Choosing me. But I always woke up before the good part.”

“This is the good part,” Buck says, his voice low and certain.

She laughs, a watery, broken sound, and presses a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “I was so scared you’d go see her and realize I was just… a placeholder. Someone to make the quiet nights easier.”

“You were never a placeholder,” he says fiercely, his hand coming up to cover hers. “Y/n, you filled the space I dind’t could ever be filled. You brought me back to myself. You’ve been there tjrough every storm, and I was too blind to see that you weren’t just helping me survive…you were the reason I wanted to.”

He watched as her eyes fill again, but this time, it’s not just pain. It’s from love, open and shining and completely unhidden now.

She leans in, brushing her lips to his, soft at first, just a question, and when he answers with a deep, reverent kiss in return, it feel like the beginning of everything they never tjought they’d get to have.

The kiss in gentle and slow, not rushed like the stolen ones in dim hallways or post-shift goodbyes. It’s full of everything they’d left unsaid: I missed you. I wanted you. I love you.

When they finally break apart, Buck rests his forehead against hers again, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I want to do this right. No hiding. No halfway. I want breakfasts with terrible coffee and real dates and someone who keep stealing my hoodies even though she has her own.”

Y/n grins, teary-eyed and radiant. “I make your coffee better than anyone here, and you know it.”

“I do,” he says, his smile wide and boyish and utterly Buck. “And I want to fall asleep next to you without pretending it’s just for tonight. I want to wake up knowing I don’t have to say goodbye when I leave. I want us.”

Y/n nods, emotion tightening her throat, but she still finds the words. “Then we’re done pretending.”

He brushes a kiss to her forehead, then her temple, then finally, her lips again, soft and sure.

Outside, the firehouse is still. Quiet. But inside this small office, everything has shifted. The weight has lifted. The longing has found its answer.

And for the first time in a long time, Buck isn’t running toward the past.

He’s standing still, holding the future in his arms.

[buckysgirl27]

Off To War

Part Eight

40s Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are married in the 40's. Hydra captures Bucky and commands him to eliminate them. Can he do it? What will happen to future Bucky with this new information.

Trigger Warnings: angst

A/N: Thank you for all the love❤️

Masterlist

"Ok now idiots." Tony kindly began. "Remember, Wilson, keep Barnes from going with Capscicle. Capscicle....don't get involved anymore than you have to. No contact with anyone you used to know. And if Terminator shows up while you're there because we overshot the date, then you HAVE to leave her. It'll change the course of history if you don't and we all know that's not a good thing."

Sam nudged Bucky.

"Hear that? No sneaking around."

Bucky rolled his eyes and glared at him intensely enough Sam was sure if he was Vision he would be burning holes straight through him.

"Remember Buck-" Steve started.

"Yeah, yeah I'll scare her off because she thinks I'm dead." Bucky huffed.

Steve smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry. I wish you could come with me."

Bucky glared at him too.

"I could. You just won't let me."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Alright children let's get this show on the road."

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder before putting his helmet on and walking over to the machine. It was going to be a long five seconds for Bucky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve landed face first in your flowerbed and got a mouthful of dirt. He spat it out immediately wishing he had a water bottle on him. But water and electronics don't go well together so alas. No water.

He pushed himself up into a kneeling position and faced the house he thought he'd never see again.

It'd been a long time. But here he was again. A week before the incident. It wasn't enough time to wrap your head around anything that was going on but he figured once you heard Bucky was alive all you would need was 30 seconds to think it through. You probably really wouldn't even think it through.

He took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He stared at the front door for a moment before he started to make his way to it.

He paused before he knocked on the door. When he did knock, he knocked twice and then let himself in before you could get to the door. You were pregnant after all. Moving around had been tough for you. He remembered that. He remembered more than he wanted to.

Your favorite color was black, because it matched with everything. But your house was mostly pastel because you thought black as decorative items was just too harsh.

You had an attitude that rivaled current Bucky. Hah.

Sam had no idea what he was getting himself into helping bring you back. Steve chuckled to himself.

You hated frills but your mother loved them so a lot of the items in your house were frilly and lace girly stuff because your mother had gotten it for you and you couldn't refuse the gift even though you secretly wanted to burn it them.

"Anybody home?" He called out.

"Oh Steve!" You called to him. "Perfect timing! I can't reach Bucky's mug. I need to clean it. It's starting to get dusty. I know I don't use it but it should still be cleaned. Just in case. Right?" You rambled a bit. It was cute.

"Yeah of course." Steve smiled.

You frowned.

"You're awfully nice right now. What's wrong?"

Steve laughed. He missed your perceptiveness.

"And you ma'am are awfully perceptive. It's about Bucky actually." He said as he handed you the mug.

"Oh." You said softly as you accepted it.

"No! It's a good thing!"

"Steve you told me he was dead for good. What's good about it? Did they find his body? Can I bury him?"

Steve shook his head vigorously.

"No. He's alive but," he paused.

"But what?!" You yell placing Bucky's mug on the counter and shoving Steve's chest.

"You're gonna want to sit down for this. Trust me." Steve said as he led you to the kitchen table.

"I don't need to sit down for shit Steve! Just tell me what's going on!"

Steve pulled out your chair and you sat anyway. Your back was hurting.

"I'm not the Steve you know." He started.

"What the hell do you mean you're not the Steve I know? What other Steve Rogers is there?"

Steve chuckled. He missed this.

"Well. If you let me finish the story, you'd know now wouldn't ya?"

He smiled smugly at your scowl.

"Fine. Continue oh wise one."

"Buck fell off the train and did die. But he was found by an organization called HYDRA. The Nazi science division. They somehow brought him back to life and...changed him. A lot. He lost his arm when he fell. Tried to grab hold of a rock to stop the fall and off it went. Well. This group found him and gave him a new arm. A metal one. When he woke up he had amnesia and they used that against him and made sure he never remembered anyone or anything by using consistent electro shock therapy and pills. His first assignment they give him is you. He kills you. He doesn't know who you are. And he's different now. Moody. Grumpy. Has terrible nightmares. Long hair. Has a hard time keeping up with hygiene in general actually. Sometimes I have to remind him to do things."

Your breath hitched and Steve could see the tears welling in your eyes. He knew you well enough to know you were trying to hold them back.

"You say this like he's already done it." You look Steve dead in the eye. "Who are you?"

Steve smiles at you kindly.

"I am Steve Rogers, and you did know me. I crash a plane into the ice in a few months and am frozen for about 70 years. I'm your Steve. But from the future."

You laughed.

"You can't be from the future! That's impossible!"

Steve shrugged.

"I'm here aren't I?"

You laughter died after that comment.

"Why are you here?"

Steve smiled at you sadly.

"Bucky escaped captivity. He remembers you. He remembered what he did and I had to fill in the details. Distraught is an understatement."

You looked at him curiously.

"So you built a Time Machine to get me back?"

Steve laughed.

"Sorry. No. Long story but we already had it. Tony Stark was supposed to destroy it but he didn't. Thankfully it turns out."

You smiled at that.

"Do I even want to know why you needed a Time Machine?"

Steve smirked.

"End of the world."

You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah ok drama queen."

You looked around the room for a moment. Steve's eyes followed you.

Before he could say anything you spoke.

"So when are we leaving?"

Steve grinned.

"Whenever you're ready."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the longest 5 seconds of Bucky's life. What if you didn't want to see him again? What if you did want to see him but as soon as you saw him you were repulsed by the new him? What if the story Steve told you scared you off? There were so many what ifs.

Before he knew it though he heard a loud crack, like thunder and there you were. Swollen belly and all.

Bucky exhaled. You were so much more beautiful in person than his memory.

He wasn't sure whether or not to walk up to you so he stayed planted firmly in place.

Steve helped you down and when you looked up you met Bucky's nervous eyes. What if you hated him?

"James?" She asked.

He opened his mouth and then shut it. Trying to form words.

"Yeah baby doll. It's me."

Steve watched with a smile while Sam and Tony gagged internally as you waddled as fast as you could to Bucky and he met you halfway pulling you tightly into his arms.

"I missed you so much James." You bawled into his shirt, thoroughly soaking it.

Bucky pulled you away from where your face was nestled deeply into his chest and kissed you passionately. This earned a loud groan of disgust from Sam.

Bucky ignored it. When he pulled away he cupped your cheeks in his palms and pressed his forehead to yours.

"I missed you too baby girl."

That's how he wished it happened. It would have been so much better if it happened like that. But no. He choked up.

"I-I can't do this." He choked out. Then he turned on his heels and rushed out of the room leaving everyone in shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You thought if what Steve told you was true, something like this might happen. Even though he used to be a very extroverted person, he was still very private. Emotions were sometimes difficult but they never seemed to be too difficult with you.

It didn't come as a total shock. But it still hurt. A lot.

You heard footsteps behind you and felt Steve rub soothing circles on your back.

"C'mon. Let me introduce you to a couple people. Since Bucky's being an ass I'll show you where you can stay until he gets some sense knocked back into him."

You smirked up at him.

"Language, Steve."

Suddenly you heard the two other men burst out laughing.

"So that's where you got it from?" The man who had been standing by James had asked while laughing.

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah sue me. Anyway, That's Sam, he's annoying but he means well and has been helping Buck a lot even though he thinks he can do it all on his own." Steve turned and guided you with him. "That's Tony. The Winter Soldier killed his parents so they don't get a long well. It's gotten better though."

You nodded solemnly and walked up to Tony.

"I know I don't need to but I feel like I must apologize on behalf of my husband. Although I am sure he has apologized already. I am so sorry for everything you have been through Anthony, and if there's anything we- anything I can do for you please let me know."

Tony looks at you perplexed. People only ever told him that his parents were amazing people. They didn't really care about his feelings.

He was even more confused when you reached out for a hug. He instinctively moved back.

You brought your arms back to yourself.

"Right of course. I'm sorry."

You looked to the ground and then at Steve.

"It's been a lot. Will you show me to my room?"

Steve nodded and guided you to the door.

"Of course. Don't worry about Buck. He'll come 'round."

You smiled sadly.

"I hope so."

Taglist:

@goth1c-pinki3-pi3

@svtbpbts

@homiesexual-or-homosexual

@baw1066

@theflowerswillbloom

@lil-riddle-kiddle

@lapii

[multiversefanfics]

It Hurts to Fall in Love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warning: sadness Summary: You fell out of love with Dean. Word Count: 485

It started slow at first, then all at once.

It was subtle, you were distancing yourself, going to bed earlier than normal, "falling asleep" on the couch or in the library. Sam noticed, Dean pretended he didn't notice, but he noticed. It was happening to him of course he noticed, he just didn't want to believe it.

You tried your best not to make it too harsh, but when the feelings were completely gone, you didn't know what else to do. You cared deeply for Dean, but for some reason, the love wasn't there anymore. It was nothing he did, it just happened.

"Y/N... Can we talk?" Dean's voice barely above a whisper

You nodded and followed him to your his room. You sat on the edge of the bed, while he stood in front of you. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He tried his best to get the words out, but the only thing that came out were tears, your heart shattered.

"Do you not love me anymore?" Dean was now on his knees in front of you.

Tears slipped down your face, and you couldn't form the words. You did love Dean, just not in a romantic way anymore. Dean rested his hands on your knees, looking up at you

"I need to hear you say it." His eyes were bloodshot.

You rested your hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears

"Dean.." You took a deep breath. "Falling in love is like giving someone a loaded gun pointed at your heart and trusting them not to pull the trigger."

More tears slipped down his cheeks. "You don't trust me?"

You shook your head, placing a kiss on his forehead, "I trust you with my life, something shifted, I don't know how to explain it."

Dean nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest. "I will always love you, Y/N."

You held him, you wanted nothing more than to have that love for him back, you can't force it, and he deserved real love, not something fake.

"I will always be here for you, maybe down the line we can try again, I know you won't wait for me forever, but I know deep down, I still love you, I need to get my shit together." You kissed the top of Dean's head, sighting softly.

Dean nodded against your chest, you leaned back against the headboard, pulling Dean on top of you. You knew you shouldn't be doing this, but how could you rip his heart out like that, then just leave?

You held Dea for a while, you slid your hand under his shirt and rubbed his back soothingly, you placed several kisses on his cheek and forehead, you exhaled deeply and held him closer to you, whispering "I'm sorry" over and over.

It started slow at first, then all at once.

A/N: I hope you guys like this if you want to be tagged in future fics comment here or send me a message. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. 🥰

Main Masterlist - Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @iwudbutnah @littlesoulshine @miss-marmalade @bettystonewell @cherryresidence

[pankowcrumbs]

Set X Will Poulter

MasterList

If I had a pound for every time Will Poulter made me laugh in the makeup chair, I’d have enough saved for a year’s worth of oat milk lattes and a weekend in the Cotswolds.

Every morning on set, it was the same routine. Will would swagger in like he hadn’t just rolled out of bed ten minutes ago, flash that cheeky grin, and plop himself in my chair with a dramatic sigh.

“Y/N,” he’d moan, eyes fluttering shut, “save me. I’ve just seen myself in the mirror and it’s not pretty.”

“You’re not that bad,” I’d smirk, reaching for the moisturiser. “A bit of colour correction and a prayer and we might pass you off as human.”

He’d gasp like I’d slapped him. “I knew you fancied me.”

“Oh, deeply,” I’d say flatly, “especially when you’ve got croissant crumbs in your beard.”

He’d only laugh and wink at me through the mirror. Every. Single. Morning.

I was a makeup artist on the new crime thriller series "Under Fire". Will played the morally conflicted lead detective who also happened to look far too good covered in fake bruises and gunpowder dust. From day one, the chemistry between us had been undeniable though neither of us had done anything about it, unless you counted flirting like we were on a bloody rom-com set.

“Y’know,” he said one morning as I dabbed concealer under his eyes, “you should come to set later, watch me do my tortured stare. It’s very moving.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it,” I said dryly. “You just squint like you’ve misplaced your glasses.”

“Oi!” he laughed, nudging me playfully. “I’m acting! That squint’s got emotional depth.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed anyway. He was ridiculous. And charming. And a little too good at getting under my skin.

Today, his co-star Devon was sat beside him, scrolling on his phone while we carried on our usual banter. Will was mid-rant about how I’d allegedly made his nose look too “sharp and dangerous” when Devon suddenly slammed his phone down and turned to us with a theatrical groan.

“Oh for God’s sake,” he said, loud enough to make me jump.

Will blinked. “Sorry?”

Devon pointed between us dramatically. “This. Whatever this is. I can’t take it anymore.”

I froze mid-powder.

Devon stood up, adopting the tone of someone giving a rousing speech to Parliament. “Every morning, it’s the same thing. Will flirts, Y/N flirts back, they giggle, they make intense eye contact like they’re in a BBC period drama and yet no one asks the other out. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to watch this unfold daily and not scream?”

I stared, mouth slightly open.

“Just bloody snog already,” Devon added, throwing his hands up. “Or go for coffee. I don’t know. Something. But for the love of all things holy, do something.”

Will glanced at me, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well… that’s subtle.”

I laughed, still a bit stunned. “I mean… he’s not wrong.”

Will’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “No,” he said, soft and sincere now. “He really isn’t.”

There was a pause. Just long enough for the air between us to shift into something warm and expectant.

“Alright,” Will said, standing. “Y/N… dinner?”

I smiled, heart suddenly pounding. “Finally.”

Devon clapped like he’d just officiated a wedding.

That Friday, we went to a little bistro tucked away in Soho. Will picked it because “it had mood lighting and a dessert menu longer than the dictionary” and honestly, that was reason enough.

He met me outside, wearing a black jumper and the goofiest grin I’d ever seen.

“You clean up alright,” I teased, nudging his side.

He mock-swooned. “Say that again while I’m recording it.”

The evening was… perfect.

He held the door for me, ordered us the house red, and made me laugh so hard I snorted water through my nose halfway through the main. He told stories from set like the time he tripped on his own shoelace mid-dramatic chase and I confessed that I’d once glued an actor’s fake moustache on upside down and didn’t notice until the third scene.

“So that’s why he looked like a confused walrus,” Will laughed.

After dinner, we walked through Covent Garden. The streets sparkled with fairy lights, and the air was cool and crisp. Will gently reached for my hand, his fingers brushing mine before he laced them together.

“Just so you know,” he said quietly, “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.”

“Hold my hand?”

He looked down at me. “And take you on a date. Tell you how much I’ve loved being around you every day. And that you’ve got this laugh that makes me want to hear it forever.”

I stopped walking. “Will…”

“I know we’ve been messing around,” he said. “But I wasn’t joking. I do fancy you. Properly.”

I stared at him, heart thudding. “Good.”

He smiled, relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said, stepping closer. “Because I’ve been losing my mind every morning with you in that chair, trying not to kiss you.”

His laugh was pure sunshine. And then he did exactly what we’d both been dying to do for weeks he leaned down and kissed me, slow and soft, right under the fairy lights.

It was the kind of kiss that felt like it’d been waiting to happen forever.

Monday morning, Will came into the trailer whistling.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds,” Devon smirked from his chair. “Did you hold hands and frolic through Soho?”

“Jealous?” Will asked, plopping down in my chair and giving me a wink.

“Of being that whipped? Never,” Devon deadpanned, but he was smiling.

As I reached for the foundation, Will caught my wrist and kissed the back of my hand.

“Good morning, darling,” he said sweetly.

“Will!” I laughed. “You’re going to make me mess up your face”

“Worth it.”

[mothhball]

Sounds like fun. BtAA Scarecrow, Gin, coffee, cranberry juice, lime juice, lime wedge, please.

Dream Hostage

BtAA Scarecrow x Reader

summary headcanons + dark/dead dove + confessing feelings + neck kisses + ❛ I'm sorry. I know it hurts. ❜

warnings kidnapping and violence, hints at noncon but nothing explicit. please don't read this if you're uncomfortable with any of these themes.

notes please don't kill me with a large rock for posting this so late :^)

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: n/a

Even for a guy who thinks so highly of himself, it took some time for him to muster up the courage to tell you about his feelings for you.

You two worked well together in his office, after all. And surely, you put an effort into your appearance all for him. In fact, there were a lot of things you did that Jonathan was certain you intended as a secret message.

Bringing him coffee when you got one for yourself? Telling him it was going to rain? Saying “take care” whenever you’d leave work? Definite signs. God, you were just too sweet for your own good.

So, who could blame him when he asked you to come into his office for a little chat one day?

And really, he made an effort. He got your favorite treat from your favorite bakery in Downtown Gotham, made sure to keep his unnerving eye contact to a minimum.

For a moment, you thought he’d offer you a raise. And then he dropped the bombshell on you. Told you about his feelings as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world

But then your smile suddenly faltered. Shrunk. Vanished. Until your expression turned almost pained.

“Listen,” you started, and he immediately regretted ever saying anything.

Suddenly, he felt like an outcasted teen again. Shunned and rejected, looked at with pity and disgust. He felt small again.

And while Jonathan told you he accepted your feelings, or lack thereof –

The Scarecrow certainly didn’t.

In his eyes, you made a mistake. But mistakes make room for growth and improvement. Now, THAT’S something he could work with! And hey, sometimes people just need a second chance.

In a way, it was a good thing that you were avoiding him for a few days, fleeing from the break room whenever he’d come along. It gave him time to think rationally. To swallow down the bitter feeling of ire and sour tang of hurt. And it gave him time to plan.

Your car broke down out of nowhere, and even though Jonathan offered to drive you, you declined. The thought of sitting in a car with him was causing a horrendous ache in your guts, so you’d rather bite the bullet and take the train.

Too bad that you didn’t even get to the station that night.

As you rounded a corner, your world suddenly went dark. And when you came to again — accompanied by a thumping headache — you found yourself in the clutches of the Scarecrow.

Oh, you were such a good sport about it all!

Crying whenever he wanted you to, screaming whenever he’d get out his toxins to spook you just right! Truly, you were a dream hostage.

He adored how you’d squirm and beg when he dragged his tongue up your throat, savoring the exquisite taste of your tears and blood before he’d dive in to kiss and nip at your flesh.

Sometimes, he’d start of gentle, patiently exploring your body together with you. But as soon as you’d get nervous, the urge to take and take would fester inside him. Then, he wants to see more, to feel more. To be demanding and greedy.

Every once in a while, he’d whisper “I’m sorry. I know this hurts.” into your heated flesh while he indulged himself on everything that you were and had to offer, but he knew it was just to placate you in the moment. After all, you were putting on a show for him, right?

[missmaymay13]

practice makes perfect - m.boldy

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

dad!m.boldy x fem!oc

summary: matt getting home to his beautiful wife after being away for a little too long...

masterlist

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Matt had been gone for a while. A long, grueling road trip with the team had kept him away from home, from the quiet comfort of domestic life, and most painfully—from her. The kind of distance that gnawed at him during lonely hotel nights and airport layovers. But he was finally back—and earlier than expected. It was just past 8 a.m. when he rolled his suitcase into the front hallway, careful not to let it thump against the doorframe. He paused for a second, soaking in the quiet stillness of the house.

Silence.

A rare and precious moment in their lives.

Their baby wasn’t home. Their daughter—his entire world wrapped in tiny hands and giggles—was spending the week with her aunt, who had practically begged for uninterrupted time with her niece. It had taken some convincing. Letting go, even for a week, wasn’t easy. But they eventually gave in, and right now, standing in this calm, empty house, it felt like divine timing.

Matt kicked off his shoes, padding softly across the hardwood as he made his way upstairs. Each step brought a little more excitement, the thought of seeing her, of surprising her, sending sparks through his tired limbs. God, he missed her. He missed everything. The way she teased him when he couldn’t find the cereal in the cupboard. The way she laughed at her own jokes before finishing them. The way she curled into his chest at night like she was made to fit there.

He reached their bedroom and opened the door slowly, careful not to make a sound—already picturing the sleepy smile she’d give him when she saw him. The soft gasp. The kiss.

But the bed was empty.

Sheets slightly rumpled. Her pajamas tossed on the floor in a small, messy pile. Her side of the bed already cold.

His brows furrowed.

Weird.

Where could she possibly be at 8 a.m.?

Before he could even call out, the front door opened again downstairs. Muffled footsteps. Then the sound of the fridge opening, water being poured. A shuffle of feet moving toward the stairs. He stood in the middle of the bedroom, confused but curious.

And then—she walked in.

She hadn’t noticed him yet. Her earbuds were still in, soft music humming. Her hair was slicked back into a bun, a sheen of sweat on her glowing skin. She wore a navy blue sports bra and matching leggings that clung to every curve in the most unfair way. Her cheeks were pink, lips parted slightly as she caught her breath. Her whole body radiated strength and softness all at once.

Matt’s mouth went dry.

She looked like a goddess. Athletic. Confident. Beautiful.

His voice came out before he could stop it.

"Honey? Where were you?"

Her head snapped up in shock, earbuds yanked from her ears as her eyes met his. "Oh my god, you're home early!" she said, a huge smile lighting up her face. "I was just at that new pilates studio I told you about. The one that just opened downtown. Sorry—I’m all sweaty and gross. Otherwise I’d be tackling you right now."

Matt didn’t care. If anything, the sight of her like this—alive, glowing, strong—was short-circuiting every rational thought in his brain. He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing her like this, in her element, confident and radiant and just... her.

He muttered something low under his breath, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

"What did you say, Matt?" she asked, walking farther into the room, grabbing a towel from the hamper.

He looked up at her, caught somewhere between shy and starstruck. "I said... you look super sexy right now. And I think we need to have another baby. Like... right now."

She blinked. Then laughed, the sound airy and teasing. "Wait—you're serious??"

His face didn’t change.

"Matty baby," she said, half-laughing, half-wheezing. "I gave birth six months ago. Let me enjoy not being pregnant while I can. I literally just stopped waddling."

He gave her the full effect of his pout, lower lip jutting out as he stepped a little closer. "... Can we still practice though?"

She stared at him, shaking her head with a fond smile.

Then, without another word, she reached behind her, unhooked her bra, and chucked it directly at his face.

It hit him with a soft thwack.

Matt just grinned.