#wayne mccullough oneshot

[vilentia]

Rust and Resolve

Wayne McCullough x reader

Summary: A struggling teen, weighed down by his past, meets someone with a fiery spirit who helps him see he doesn’t have to face everything alone. Together, they share a moment that brings hope and understanding.

It was one of those miserable days where the sky seemed to press down on the world like a damp, gray blanket. Wayne McCullough Jr. sat on the crumbling steps of an abandoned church, his leather jacket pulled tight against the November chill. His knuckles were raw, a testament to the fight he’d been in an hour earlier—a fight he hadn’t won. His opponent, a local thug with two teeth missing and a permanent sneer, had walked off laughing, leaving Wayne nursing a bruised jaw and wounded pride.

Wayne’s face was like a thundercloud as he stared out at the empty street. He wasn’t sure what he was angrier about—losing, or the fact that he’d let someone get under his skin in the first place. Normally, he was good at keeping his temper in check, saving it for moments that really mattered. But today, everything had boiled over.

“You look awful,” said a voice, clear and cutting through the gloom like a knife through fog.

Wayne turned his head sharply, scowling. A girl stood at the bottom of the steps, hands on her hips, her bright eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made him feel seen in a way he didn’t particularly like.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he muttered, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

Y/N Y/L/N wasn’t the kind of girl who could be easily ignored. She had a fire about her, the kind that seemed to burn brighter when someone tried to put it out. She wasn’t flashy or loud, but she didn’t need to be. Everything about her radiated quiet confidence, from the way she carried herself to the way she looked at Wayne now—like he was an unsolved puzzle she was determined to crack.

“What happened this time?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was calm, but there was a note of exasperation in it, as though she was speaking to a particularly stubborn younger brother.

“Nothing,” Wayne grumbled, glaring at the cracked pavement. “Just some jerk who thought he could push me around.”

“Looks like he succeeded,” Y/N said, folding her arms. When Wayne glared at her, she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t give me that. You think you’re the only person in this town with problems?”

Wayne opened his mouth to snap back but stopped. There was something in her tone—sharp but not unkind—that made him hesitate. He shifted uncomfortably, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

“I don’t need your help,” he said finally.

“Good thing I’m not offering it,” Y/N shot back, sitting down on the step beside him. She didn’t say anything else, just sat there, her presence a steadying weight against the storm brewing inside him.

For a while, they were silent. The wind rustled the bare branches of the trees lining the street, and somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Wayne stared at the scabs on his knuckles, his mind churning with thoughts he didn’t know how to put into words.

“It’s just…” he began, then stopped, frustrated. He wasn’t good at this—talking about feelings. It felt like trying to wrestle an angry cat.

“What?” Y/N prompted, her voice softer now.

“It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t fix anything,” Wayne said finally, his voice low. “I tried to do the right thing, you know? For my dad, for Del… but it’s like I’m always one step behind, always screwing everything up.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. She picked up a small rock and rolled it between her fingers, her expression thoughtful.

“Wayne,” she said after a moment, “you’re not a screw-up. You’re just… really bad at asking for help.”

Wayne snorted. “And what, you’re gonna teach me how to be better at it?”

“Maybe,” Y/N said, and to his surprise, there was no sarcasm in her voice. She tossed the rock into the street and turned to look at him, her bright eyes searching his face. “You think you have to carry everything by yourself, but you don’t. You’ve got people who care about you. Even me, for some reason.”

Wayne stared at her, caught off guard. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?”

Y/N tilted her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Because you’re not as tough as you think you are,” she said. “And maybe because someone needs to remind you that it’s okay to let people in.”

Wayne didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t used to people seeing through him like this, and it was both unsettling and strangely comforting. He looked away, his throat tight.

“Thanks,” he muttered after a long pause.

Y/N smiled. “Anytime.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, the tension in Wayne’s chest slowly easing. The wind picked up, carrying with it the faint scent of rain, and for the first time that day, Wayne felt something other than anger. He wasn’t sure what it was—hope, maybe, or something close to it—but it was enough.

“Come on,” Y/N said finally, standing up and brushing the dust off her jeans. “Let’s get you cleaned up before you scare off all the neighbors.”

Wayne huffed a small laugh and got to his feet. He wasn’t sure where he was going or what came next, but for now, it didn’t matter. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was facing the world alone.

And that was enough.

Let me know what you think in the comments 😊

[lingulaca]

"I guess you're new to this too"

Wayne doesn't have a place to stay, so he joins your family for dinner.

៚ word count - 1,175

៚ author's note - i looove wayne so i had to write smut about him. what a delicious boy am i right guys ?

also reader is intended to be the nurse's daughter

"...cause it's like, obviously the better option but she wanted me to ask you since you're the guest." You shifted, getting comfortable in your spot right next to Wayne. He just sighs as he leans back, ice pack over his right eye. The leather couch squeaked. He'd gotten into another fight, you assumed. "Yeah..." He wistfully mumbles.

"That... wasn't an answer." You turned your head to glance at your mom. She was still in the kitchen, prepping carrots and celery. Her music only got louder every second. "Huh?" Wayne yawned. The car ride to your house went on for so long he was on the cusp of slumber. "Chicken or fish?" You scooted closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he hadn't completely dozed off. He gave a lazy smile, hands falling to his sides. "I'll just tell her you said fish." You got up before being stopped by Wayne's fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt. "What kind of fish?" He feigned curiosity, Truthfully, he didn't give a fuck about the fish, his appetite was non-existent as a result of whatever meds your mom made him take so he likely wouldn't eat. "It's... flounder." It was Wayne's turn to grin now. "I love flounder." He didn't. He loved looking at your boobs. The angle happened to be perfect.

"It's good, right? The rice? I didn't overcook it, did I?" You rolled your eyes at your mom's words. Luckily, your younger cousin says what everyone was probably thinking. "Auntie, nobody cares." You notice Wayne right beside you, chuckling as he shovels what's on the plate into his mouth. "Is the fish okay? I seasoned it." He nods eagerly.

Suddenly, you get an idea. Taking one last sip of your drink, you tap Wayne's arm a few times before rushing off to your room downstairs. Wayne turns, causing his chair to creak. His thought process is a bit delayed, but he's always been curious about you so because the only one on one conversation you two ever had didn't satisfy that curiosity, he follows you. "May I be excused, miss?" He groans, the pain medicine from before was starting to wear off. "Oh of course, of course! Bathroom's in the middle of the hall."

Wayne's startled when he finds you sitting on top of the dryer. "Jesus, fuck, you scared me." You laughed, moving to lie down instead. "Sorry, wanted to surprise you..." "Well, consider me surprised." He leans on the wall, eyes focused on the sliver of skin above your waistband. "You should probably lock the door. She'd freak if she found out you were here with me alone." He then clambers to do as you said, struggling a little. "Let me-" He shakes his head. "No, I got it. Your door has a weird lock." Oh, right. "It's broken. The original one, I mean. My mom, that crazy bitch, she destroyed the thing with a knife a couple years back." Wayne' looks concerned but he keeps his smile. His brain feels all cloudy. "Why the hell would she do something like that?" You shrug. It was too long of a story, and you didn't wanna scare your guest away. "Early menopause, I guess. How'd you get that uh, black eye?" Wayne sat on the stairs right in front of your washer and dryer. "Some guy was pickin' on some kid." "Wow..." Your legs swung while you sat back up. "Yeah." Wayne's fingers tap the wall rhythmically. "So, you got a boyfriend?" He asks to make conversation. You smile, tone lowering in a teasing way. "Hm...?" "Nothing I just, uh... y'know, girls don't usually do all this with a guy they barely know if they have a boyfriend waiting on them. You invited me into your room."

"Alright, you got me, I don't have a boyfriend. Satisfied?" You're towering over him now, making him speechless. He looks up at you with his big, brown eyes. "C'mon, I got a king size bed, no reason for us to be sittin' over here." Wayne follows you again, as mindlessly as last time. Your bed is comfortable, lots of blankets and pillows and the mattress isn't one of those too soft ones. "I like your bed." He realizes that he's probably too close, though he doesn't move. "I like you." You grab his hand which makes him jump. Your hands were gentle and warm in contrast to his rough ones, still cold from being outside all day. "What?" He mumbles. "What?" You reply, lips only an inch away from his.

He's sure he died and went to heaven when you kissed him. He gasps when you pull him close, nearly on top of you at this point. "Um, I uh..." He averts his gaze. This can't be real, he thinks. Oh, but he knows it is. He knows it's real when he feels your hands go to his hair, treating the strands with more softness than he deserves. "Wayne," You whisper to him. "It's okay, just do what you would normally do." He doesn't know what he would normally do. He's never gone this far with anyone, but he'll be damned if he reveals that information now of all times. "Y- yeah. Yeah, I will." His voice is full of meek confidence.

"Aww, you don't know how to?" Wayne's face flushes. "Don't..." He wants to tell you to stop talking to him like a baby, but all that comes out are wordless whimpers. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent. He grinds his hips against yours, making you bite your lip as to not let out any sounds. "What I... what I normally do, yeah." What Wayne normally does is stay in his room and jerk of maybe twice a day. He assumes he'll have to find a new daily routine now that he's your guest.

He finds your entrance after getting multiple layers of clothing off you, pushing your panties to the side out of frustration. He looks into your eyes as he slips his first two fingers in, he read somewhere that girls love that. "Wayne, fuck," Your eyes roll back as you grasp the sheets under you. His free hand slid up your skirt. "Already, huh? I guess you're new to this too..." His fingers push upwards, poking and prodding at that spongy part deep inside you. "Wayne, mmm... I'm oh my god, I'm cumming..." This makes his eyebrows raise briefly before getting right back to the task at hand. What he lacks (for now) in dirty talk, he makes up for in technique. His thumb comes up to swipe over your clit which makes you finally reach your peak.

Wayne pulled his fingers from you and scanned the room in search of a rag for only a few seconds before nonchalantly licking your juices off of his hand. "Sorry you didn't, uh..." You start, having just caught your breath. "Nah, it's fine." He grins, showing you his no longer soaking hand. "Squeaky clean."