#what's the saying? you either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain

[latetaektalk]

its sunday why am i budgeting

[david-watts]

it's a bit rich coming from me. so fucking useless that I haven't managed to do anything worse than leave words that appear on my arms when I get out of the shower and some cognitive decline in so many years of trying and threatening. but I genuinely believe it would be better for everyone involved if I weren't here

[primordialruin]

damn 😭 no matter how kind and good natured I make her, she still ends up as a villain

[backformores]

so apparently im a moa now

[yanderewhxrewrites]

In all reality, Bakugo knew what he was doing was not good. A hero wouldn't do the things he did, but then again, he had never been a good hero to begin with. He'd realize that the moment he had stepped out of U.A. The world had all too quickly labeled him as rude and brash—a villain pretending to be a hero. As if he hadn't busted his ass off to save all of them pathetic people. They all saw his quirk—him—as something destructive. So why not give the people what they want?

What did that one dude say again?

Oh yeah—

You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

[alwaysshallow]

prompt: You’re a retired S-tier supervillain. After you retired, you married a B-tier hero. You are forced back onto the stage when an A-tier villain attempts to kill your spouse. Ghost x reader

A/N: i don't know if i hate this or i like, so. it's yours to decide lmfao. especially that's a tiiiiny part that i decided to wrote bc i was bored.

Everyone wants to live happily ever after.

Not exactly a quiet life, but not too loud either. A perfect balance, where you have all the things (or almost all of them) to be happy, fulfilled in life.

Life that wanted your mother for you, before it all went down. Before you turned evil, as she liked to say.

You try to tell yourself that you deserve every inch of it, but you still miss the thrill of the hunt, blood on your hands, the way you just ruled the city like you wanted. Unbothered.

When your husband doesn’t look, you take out your mask, hidden carefully behind all those unopened cartons from your wedding. He thinks you burned all of your past, and here you are. Hiding it like a precious possession, so carefully.

It took you long enough to earn it—you don’t think you quite deserve it, but it’s nice to be a wife that can greet her husband every time he comes home from work. Every time he mentions something about you joining him, but it could be quite a laugh, you say.

A retired villain turned superhero. You’d rather die than make it happen, but that’s what your husband doesn’t know.

Well, he doesn’t know a lot of things.

For example, he doesn’t know how conflicted you are. Unconsciously, you think that you sabotage all of those happy moments. Overthinking stuff, asking yourself if you’re really in a good place, if you made a right decision; if a man is worth giving up your career.

Your whole life, if you want to be petty enough. Your whole life changed because of him—hell, you even changed in some way. Less snarkier, more laid back, so you wouldn’t be degraded to trophy wife, burned out villain in front of his friends and family.

Make them proud, he said once, before a meeting with his friends. Meeting that turned to complete disaster, heading home way earlier than you were supposed to because superhero bullshit bored and annoyed you enough.

But you tried to put up with it. Convince yourself that it is your fate, not the villain route that you chose before.

Fate hits you right in the face, when you enter your apartment to see three significant changes.

Your husband is tied like a pig on the table. Tight.

The apartment looks like a tornado went through it.

And three—

“Took you long enough.”

Yeah. That’s three.

You almost want to laugh. A bandit-like balaclava could scare a lot of people, but not you—not when you know him inside out. Not when you basically competed with him your whole life before.

Yeah. Before. Before you met your husband, before you two got married, before you decided to retire. The taste of this decision is bitter on your tongue, just like the thought that you feel excited for the first time in months because there’s potential danger. Something breaking you out of the routine.

“Normal people do groceries around this hour.” You shrug casually, taking a few steps; the intention of untying your husband falters the moment Ghost blocks your way, amused. You raise your eyebrow. “Come on—”

“—What? Scared?”

“No. But he has probably nothing to do with your business,” you point out, harshly. He lets out a scoff.

“Said that he’s gonna call cops on me. Very unfriendly behavior from a superhero, won’t you agree?” He tilts his head with a theatrical manner.

“I’d do the same,” you murmur under your nose, taking out the material that Ghost gagged your husband with. Carefully, your hand lands on the ropes, until Simon stops you.

“We have better things to do,” he says, his voice low. “Gotta step out from that wife role for a moment, ‘m takin’ you. He’s gonna do fine.”

“You’re taking me?”

“I am, yeah. A problem?” He arches an eyebrow, his grip tight on your wrist. Attacking him is useless, especially when he knows how you want to do it; he’s quick to pin you down against the counter. His front is hot against your ass—he laughs, as he’s almost able to feel your humiliation. “Won’t do anythin’ right in front of your husband, don’t worry. Or, will I?” he looks down at you, expression mocking.

“I hate—”

“Mm. Yeah, won’t do me good.”

And then, you’re out.

[asteriass]

The progression of the “Villainess” trope

Y'know, thinking about it, it's very ironic how a trope made to subvert one's expectations & give more depth to 1 dimensional villains in cliche novels by "humanizing" them more & providing their side of the story, eventually became oversaturated with cartoony villains & flat MCs. Thus, completely failing in its goal to "subvert expectations" as it too turned into mind numbing cliche, becoming the exact opposite of what the troupe initially aimed to achieved.

I am talking about "Villainess" series.

I remember seeing a twitter post a while back saying how a lot of the villainess stuff the authors & studios are putting out nowadays lack any sort of nuance when it comes to its characters. And how a lot authors simply switch the roles of the cast (Like: OG MC -> villain | OG villain -> MC) & call it a day. And I 100% agree with that.

This troupe kinda ended up becoming the dictionary definition of the saying, "You either die as a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain” lmao

What could've been an opportunity to write nuanced villains & morally ambiguous main characters, turned EXACTLY into the cliche it was pocking fun at.

In an attempt to reveal how the MCs of your typical cliche novels can also be in the wrong at times, flaws that the story & its (in-canon) fandom may purposefully ignore, the villainess stories ended up doing EXACT SAME thing EXECPT this time it's the "villains" doing it rather than the OG FL or OG ML of the “OG novel”. In an attempt to stop cliche villains from remaining cliche, while we did ended up getting slightly more nuance for the “OG villain” characters, in the process, the OG MCs turned exactly into those flat cliche villains.

Alot of villainess series poke fun at the troupes they themself use, but not in a satirical way.

So many villainess series poke fun at the OG novels for being problematic or stupid & the fandom of said novels basically ignoring its flaws & problems, only gushing over the OG FL. Which yea, is nice & all, but y'know... that's exactly what those villainess series do too. SO MANYY of them borderline have the FLs participating in literal slavery. & More often than not have a borderline colonizer ML. Not to mention the numerous which carry weird undertones of colorism, and many such other things. All the while, the fandom of these villainess series continue to ignore their glaring problems & flaws & instead just gush over the FL and ML.

And I'm not even saying this in a hating sort of way (well, aside from the series with issues of colorism, orientalism, etc). Moreover, this is all not to say that one can not enjoy such stories, because admittedly, there is indeed fun in just reading a simple and familiar story line. But this is all more me being intrigued by this trope’s almost ironic progression as companies rush their staff to produce something which they think will be able to ride the waves of the current trends, only for the vast majority to simply drown in a sea of mediocrity (with many even being canceled due to this)

[Though I mean, something as simple as villainess tropes won’t be the only one to go through this. Like a lot of Shakespearean works, a subversion of the classics & typical troupes back then, got turned into ones of those classics and by many are now considered cliche. And that's just scrapping the bottom of the barrel!]

[brucewaynehater101]

i want you to know that i scroll through your posts and interactions just to find all your fic recs and open new ao3 tabs.

your tim parenting Bruce au has destroyed me and I love it so much thank you for your service.

do you have any more particularly gut wrenching aus cooking up in your genius noggin?

Heeeey. How'd you know I had a new AU I haven't released yet?

But before we get into that, thank you for the compliments. Angst is my favorite flavor.

As far the AU, you know the saying, "You either die as a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain"?

I feel like that could fit Tim so well.

How I imagine the AU to start out would be Tim as Robin. He's in the batcave with Bruce as the man is showing him a particularly devastating case. Bruce, his mentor but not his father, turns to Tim with a grimmace.

"There's a reason we have a code, Tim."

They both glance at Jason's memorial and Bruce's hands start to shake.

"As much as we may want to give in to our desires and emotions, we can't stoop down to their level. There needs to be lines we won't cross, even for the greater good."

Azure eyes snap to arctic ones, begging for the younger to understand.

"We do this to protect others, even those who are twisted and foul. We aren't the judges or executioners."

Tim nods in agreement, and Bruce's shoulders lose a little of their tension. The older man pats the teen's shoulder in pride before his attention goes back to the murder case.

Tim, as Robin, had many interactions with Bruce that shaped who he was as a vigilante. How much force to apply when fighting, what lines to cross, and acceptable codes of conduct were taught to the kid in several instances. It didn't matter that Bruce himself had broken them or that, on very rare occasions, Dick also broke them. They were rules Tim was expected to follow, and they were reasonable lines. Of course, Tim did everything he could to meet those standards. He may have trained with Lady Shiva, and YJ may get into so whacky ordeals, but there's no excuse to go outside of those bounds.

It became difficult, though, when Jason beat Tim into the floor of Titan's Tower. When Jason, after hurting several family members, was welcomed back. It became a strain on Tim when Bruce enacted the 16th Birthday present fiasco or Tim found out about what the man had done to Dick (the bruise he left on Dick's face after Jason's passing). It was demanding to follow those rules when Damian came into the picture and when Dick handed him Robin.

When Tim found that painting of Bruce, when Dick and the JL turned their backs on him, when YJ wasn't there to support him, some part of Tim said "fuck it." Why should he follow standards he had to leash Bruce into obeying? The man wasn't even here anymore.

He still tried, but he gave less effort to it. He didn't want Bruce to find out when he returned after all.

But Tim? He never returned from that desert. As far as the Bats become aware after Tim sends them the data for Bruce and then blows up the bases, Tim died in the explosions he caused.

And the rest of the AU goes into Tim exploring how the guidelines Bruce gave him were bullshit, so he slowly starts to let more and more go until he has no moral bounds anymore. He's seen Bruce, Jason, Damian, Barbara, Alfred, and Dick all break one or more of these "rules" that were placed on Tim. So why should Tim go along with it?

What does it matter if he betrays, manipulates, tortures, and kills if it saves the most people? What does it matter if he commits suffering if he's helping people?

Until, one day, Bart and Kon are on the other side of the battlefield from Tim. While Bart is steadfast in defeating Tim (no matter how much it pains him), Kon is devastated that Tim never told him he was alive. He doesn't even care that Tim is a villain. If he had just asked, Kon would've joined him.

It's too late now. Bart needs Tim to stop, Tim can't let Kon join him, and Kon is torn between his duty and his friend.

So Tim does what he always does, he sacrifices himself. He allows them to take him into holding, executes his plan to murder all villains left, places restrictions on the JL (so they'll never hurt anyone the way they hurt Tim and abandoned his friends again), and then Tim disappears. Bart opposing Tim was the sign that Tim was in the wrong. He knows that. If he wasn't, Bart would've been on Tim's side no matter how morally grey he got.

Tim had crossed into the black.

He became what he always feared he might one day be.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 40: "Is It Over Now?"

"Was it over then? And is it over now?"

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes The Twin Flame Chapter List | The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"Hey, Bucky? Why don't you go in? One of us should be there when she wakes up."

Bucky nods, giving Sam a slight smile of gratitude, "Thanks."

Bucky can't really bring himself to care about anything else. His palms itch with the need to be with you.

That's his priority, not listening to some lawyer strategize about how to get General Ross off your back. 

His place isn't out there. His place is beside you. In the small, hospital room. In the uncomfortable, hard plastic chairs at your bedside.

His place is holding your hand, waiting for the moment that you can hold his back. 

His place is stroking the hair out of your battered face, whispering sweet nothings into your ear - even if he's not sure that you can hear him.

That's his place - and there's no where else he would rather be.

His eyes never leave you from the moment he walks into your hospital room. He settles into the plastic chair and prepares himself to stay there for as long as it takes, forever if he has to. 

His eyes trail your face. Down to the ever growing collection of scars, wounds, and injuries. Some fresh. Some from long ago. Each a tale of the hero you were forced to be. He can't help but wonder: would you have chosen it? Was there any part of you that wanted to be a hero?

There's a romantic notion of being a hero that is so intrinsically you. Leaving the world a better place. Saving countless lives. Protecting people that couldn't protect themselves. The selfless act of putting your life on the line so others didn't have to. He can't picture you ever turning a blind eye, not when people needed you. 

On the other hand, he can't picture you ever willingly signing up for this. For the side of heroism that people didn't see. Hurting others, even people who wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. Conflicts that chip away at morality. Losing your sense of self. Looking in the mirror and watching yourself turn into a person you don't recognize. It happened to the best of them.

You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain - wasn't that the saying?

He's not even sure why he's asking himself this. They all knew you weren't given the choice. 

His eyes keep trailing down, bringing his focus back to your collection of hurt. 

Your hands lie flat against the thin sheets of your hospital bed. The one furthest from him with an IV sticking out of it. His hand reaches for yours. His fingers trail over your hand. It was so familiar to him, just like coming home. His fingers run over your palm, only to feel the new roughness from even more cuts and scrapes you collected tonight. 

Your hand is still cold. His own hand covers it, lending the warmth of his super soldier body heat in hopes of bringing you an ounce of comfort. He foolishly wishes that there was a way to lend you his rapid healing, his strength. He'd take your place in a heartbeat. He hopes you know that.

His eyes keep raking over you. The long, jagged scar up your wrist. It still sends a cold shiver up his spine. His gaze trails up, toward the newly restitched graze wound that he tended to in Riga.

There's a thin welt right above it. Another one across your clavicle. Like someone grabbed a piece of piping and was merciless.

The bruise on your cheekbone, the one you wore the night of your reunion and a story Bucky had not yet heard, is now almost imperceptible.

Life had put you through the wringer. That's his takeaway. There was no other way of putting it. Thinking about what you were put through tonight, anger simmers beneath his skin again. Life wasn't fair. Bucky knew that. He wasn't naive. So why did he feel like cursing life itself for being so unfair to you?

You, with a heart that believed that deep down people, that the world, were good.

You, with a warmth that melted seven decades of Bucky's icy walls in an instant.

You, who always saw the very best in him.

You, who deserved so much more.

Your breathing is shallow, soft, and still. It's the only sound in the room other than the steady beeping of your heart monitor. Tonight, he's thankful for both. He's thankful that it's rage brewing beneath his skin and not insurmountable grief. It could have so easily gone the other way. He'll never get the doctor's warning out of his head. Luck runs out. 

But not tonight. Tonight, he gets to be grateful that you will wake up. Tonight, he gets to sit at your side once more. Tonight, his twin flame continues to burn. 

He lowers his head, grazing his lips against the back of your hand, pressing the most gentle kiss he can muster. It's all he can do, except wait and silently will you to open your wide eyes to look at him once more.

He prays to whoever is listening. It would be the greatest gift. The last one he would ever ask for. For you to wake up. Wake up and look at him with those bright eyes one more time. He'll tell you the truth. He'll promise you forever. He'll promise to never leave again. He'll do it all if you would just open your eyes. 

He didn't know what the future held for you two, what life would look like once this was all said and done. But as long as you were still here, he'd find his way back to you. He swears it. You just need to wake up.

Wake up, he begs.

Wake up, he pleads.

Wake up.

A soft swallow of air catches Bucky's attention. Your eyelids twitch. That's his only warning sign.

It's his own warning sign before you violently thrash, coughing and sputtering for air. He reacts in an instant, flying up out of his seat. He reaches for your shoulders, trying to guide you back down before you pop any of your stitches, "It's okay. It's alright. It's just me. You're safe. It's over. You're - you're safe."

"James?" you croak, your chest heaving as you gasp for air.

"I'm here. I'm here."

Your breathing is ragged, shoulders rising and falling like a fresh dose of adrenaline courses through your veins, breathing like you'd been held under water this whole time. "You're here."

"You're awake," Bucky sighs in relief. For the first time since he saw you back in New York, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You're really awake."

You look down at his hand, the one that rests on your hand like it's second nature to him. "You're here. You're okay."

He snorts, leave it to you to be worried about him while you were the one lying in hospital bed. "Speak for yourself."

"I live to fight another day," you chuckle, though it sounds more like a soft exhale than a real laugh. You look around the room, there's only Bucky here, sitting beside you. "What happened? Where is everyone? Sam-"

"Sam is okay," Bucky assures you, lacing his fingers with yours. "He's outside, talking to some lawyer."

That catches your attention. The gravity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. You're here. In a hospital. People know you're here in New York. They know what you did. You don't doubt that John would sell you out without a second thought. There's nothing that points to a happy ending for you. "A lawyer?"

"Long story. I'll let him explain. I just - I wanted to be here when you woke up. I didn't want you to be alone."

A smile breaks through your panic. He wanted to be there for you. He wanted to be here, sitting in a hard, plastic hospital chair, just to be by your side. "Thank you."

"I'll always be here for you. Always."

Though he brings you a sense of peace and calm in the raging storm, not even he can shut out all the worry and panic caused by the last 24 hours. So you ask again, "What happened?"

"Well," Bucky takes a long inhale, trying to figure out how best to summarize the chaos of the rest of the night. Or as the sun breaking through the horizon told him, the rest of the night before. "For all this talk about how valuable your blood is, you sure are willing to spill a whole lot of it."

You roll your eyes, a small huff of a chuckle leaving your lips, "I guess I should be more careful next time, wouldn't want to lose the one thing that makes me special."

Bucky's eyes snap to yours. Your hand suddenly feels heavy in his hand. "It's not your blood."

"Huh?"

"What makes you special - it's not your blood. It's not your powers. It's not any of that." His words are forceful, as though he's taken personal offense to what you said. 

Your head tilts slightly, "James?"

"Have I ever said I'm sorry?"

You're not sure if it's the fact that you've just woken up or if he's genuinely not making any sense, but you're not keeping up with what Bucky is trying to tell you. "What?"

"About that day. The day that Steve left."

Your lips press into a tight line. You're suddenly caught up and you know exactly what he means. You shake your head with furrowed brows. "You don't-"

"I need to say this. Please. I need to say it." All your words catch in your throat, leaving you to wordlessly nod once. "Because I heard everything. Sam left his comms on and I heard everything... I heard Sam screaming, the kinda scream that makes your blood cold, I heard Karli crying. And I heard you say goodbye." His voice breaks as he swallows in a shaky breath. Tears burn and well in his stormy eyes. "And I was standing there on the street, listening to you say goodbye and I realized that I never even said I'm sorry. There are so many things that I never said to you because I was scared, but none of it compared to how scared I was when I thought you were gone."

He holds your hand even tighter, but he never once breaks his intense gaze with you. "And I've done a lot of shitty things in my life, but that was one of the worst. And that day - God - that day, I think about that day all the time. You don't know how many times I wished I could take it back. How many times I wanted to call you back. I've done a lot of shitty things, a lot, but telling you that we were nothing, tell you to go away, dropping your hand when you needed me, turning my back on you... I would do anything to take it back." 

You could tell him that it didn't matter, that it didn't hurt, that it was okay, but that's not what he needs to hear right now. He needs you, he needs this, as much as you do. You reach out, wiping away the stray tear that pools in the outer corner of his eye, "I forgive you."

"I lied." He rests his hand on your hand. "And I'm so sorry that I lied. It was real, every second of it, every second of us. I felt it from the moment I saw you in Berlin."

"You remember that." It never occurred to you that the moment was important enough for him to remember. 

"It was real," he confesses, his voice a breathy, desperate whisper. "You didn't see anything that wasn't there. It was. It was real. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to show you that it was real. I swear it was."

"It was real?"

"Every second of it," he promises.

When your heart shatters, breaks into a million little pieces, one of two things happens. Hate slowly seeps in, filling each and every crevice until it’s the only thing holding it together. Or you learn to let the light back in. You were both still learning how to let the light back in. 

You softly inhale as he inches closer to you, you can almost feel his warmth seeping into you. And this time, he doesn't change his mind. He doesn't pull away. 

His head tilts of its own accord, nose grazing yours ever so slightly. He licks his lips as your eyes flutter shut. His lips ghost over yours, so softly you're not even sure that you didn't make it all up. 

But you know you couldn't have made it up. Because nothing has ever felt this way. Nothing has ever felt this right. You couldn't have possibly dreamed up this level of perfection. His lips meet yours, warm and sweetly. His vibranium hand skates up your neck, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. It finds its home cupping your jaw, keeping you as close to him as possible. He kisses you over and over again, breaking apart for breath, only to pull you right back to him. 

It wasn’t at all what you thought it would be. You thought it would be like a powder keg, burning everything in sight, a passion that nothing could contain. You didn’t need that burning intensity. That spark would always be there, the flame would never extinguish. That's not what either of you needed right now. Right now, you needed calm, you needed a constant, you needed peace.

The kiss is soft, tender, it’s the most care anyone has ever treated you with. He strokes your cheek like he's making sure you're real, like this is real. Your hand leaves his, your fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck.

He hums in contentment. He doesn't care that the railing of your hospital bed is digging into his ribcage, nor that the way he bends toward you makes his spine ache. He doesn't notice any of it. How can he when this is the closest he's felt to whole in over seventy years? How can he notice anything else when the way your hands rake through his hair, tugging it ever so slightly, sends shivers jolting down his spine, when a simple touch makes him groan into your mouth?

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispers against your lips, offering gentle pecks in between his words. "I can't believe you're here, you're okay."

"It got a little crazy back there," you whisper back. "I thought I was done for. Sharon had it- wait, Sharon! Sharon - she's the Powerbroker - And Karli!"

"We know," Bucky attempts to soothe you. "It's okay. Karli's okay. She made it out."

"You know? You know that Sharon's-" your voice trails off as a shudder wraps around your spine. She plunged a knife in your back, or rather, she used Karli to plunge a knife in your back. She had you. She had it all planned out. You almost lost everything. And if she was still running around New York, you could still lose everything. You'll never forget all those threats she made, to Sarah, to AJ and Cass, to Sam, to Bucky. 

"The Powerbroker," Bucky finishes for you. "Yeah, we sorta figured it out when your comms went down after she found you. Then, you went underground, it wasn't hard to put it all together. Karli filled us in on the rest."

"Karli told you?"

"She did. I haven't been told much, but it's over. It's okay now. You're safe. We're safe."

A long breath of relief escapes your lips. That's all you need to hear for you to slump back down into your hospital bed. Bucky smiles from the side of you, brushing the stray hairs out of your face. His fingers lace with yours again, and though you're not sure if it's the exhaustion or the pain medication, but you drift away with him tracing patterns on the back of your hand. 

When you wake again, Joaquin is there, listening intently to each one of Sam's whispered words. Joaquin nods again, a tense, worried look on his face. 

"Is everything okay?" you groggily ask, softly smiling when you feel the warmth and weight of Bucky's hand resting in yours. 

The moment he sees you awake, a bright smile pulls at the corner of Sam's mouth. Sure, Bucky told him that you woke and talked to him already, but this time Sam gets to see you for himself. You're awake. You're safe. "Yeah, nothing you need to worry about right now."

You nod, your eyes flickering over to Joaquin. "Hey, Joaquin."

He smiles, rounding over to the side of your bed. He gently grabs your other hand with a bright smile, "You know, I've got to tell you, I've never had one friend in my entire life scare me as much as you do."

You languidly shrug, "It's a gift."

Joaquin humorously snorts, "I'm so glad you're okay."

"All thanks to you guys for finding me. For a minute there, I thought I was a goner."

"Not funny," Sam grunts. 

"Wasn't trying to be," you softly admit. "I didn't think anyone would be able to find me down there. Wait, how did you guys find me anyway?"

Sam juts his chin over to Joaquin. "That was all Joaquin, actually."

You look over to him, quirking an eyebrow. "Joaquin?"

Joaquin's face immediately flushes, he anxiously rubs the back of his neck as he stammers through an explanation. "I mean, I wouldn't- I wouldn't say that. I just- I did what anyone else would've done. It was no big deal. No problem."

"Torres," Sam admonishes in a knowing tone, without another word, Sam's eyes widen at Joaquin and then flicker back at you. "Isn't there something that you're forgetting to mention?"

"Okay, I might've chipped you."

You chuckle, "What?"

"Well, not you," Joaquin elaborates, spinning the friendship bracelet that you made for him around his wrist over and over again, refusing to make eye contact with you. "Your friendship bracelet, the one you made for me, I sorta, maybe, chipped it."

"You chipped my friendship bracelet?"

"I know," Joaquin winces. "I know it sounds so terrible, but you were being so reckless when we were working together-"

"Joaquin," you try to interject.

Joaquin just continues rambling on, talking right over you, "And I was so scared, you know? I was so scared, I don't think I've ever been that scared, but I was so worried that you were going to get hurt or that you'd like go off on your own or- or -"

"Joaquin!" you exclaim, just loud enough to stop his words in their tracks.

He cringes, "Yeah?"

You offer a soft smile at him, patting his hand, "You're a good friend, Joaquin. You saved my life - twice now. Thank you."

"You - you don't hate me?"

"I couldn't hate you," you promise him. "Besides, Tony did the same thing too, you know? He had one on all of us. Mine was in my friendship bracelet. Thor would actually lose his all the time so Tony just started sneaking it into his food. Steve's was in the strap of his shield. Sam's was in his goggles."

"I'm still pissed about that, by the way," Sam grumbles.

"I guess great minds think alike."

Joaquin beams at the comparison to Tony. "You think I'm like Tony Stark?"

"I told you she wasn't gonna to be mad," Sam mutters.

"Any normal person-" Joaquin refutes, pausing when he hears the words leave his mouth. There was nothing normal about anyone in that room. "Never mind, I answered my own question."

Bucky snorts, "Exactly."

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" Sam interjects. His eyes shift to Bucky and Joaquin, nudging his head toward the door. "Alone?"

Your eyebrows furrow as you nod, "Yeah."

As the two of them leave the room without another word, Sam takes Bucky's seat at your bedside. He takes your hand in his holding it tightly. "I have something to tell you. A whole lot actually."

"Okay?"

"But, first, I just wanted to say I'm glad you're okay. You scared the hell out of me - out of all of us."

"I tried to call for you guys, but she busted my comms and it-"

"I know, I know," Sam stops you. "Karli told everything. She told me you fought like hell."

"Is she alright?"

Sam shakes his head, lowering his voice, "We probably shouldn't talk about that here. I don't think anyone's listening, but just to be safe, after General Ross came to pay you a visit. As far as he knows, I left Karli down there for what she did to you."

You suck in a breath. "General Ross was here."

"That sorta brings me to my first point. He's not the only one that came to pay you a visit. There's this lawyer." The panic gripping you makes it impossible to do anything except to wait for him to continue. "He thinks we can get your life back, but we'd have to fight like hell. It won't be easy. We might even lose a few more times, but it'll be your life. Yours. For good, this time."

"What do you think?"

Sam takes a large gulp of air, uncomfortably shifting in his seat, "I think I would understand if you didn't want to fight anymore."

"What other choice do we have, Sam?"

"You could... die?"

You roll your eyes, sarcastically muttering, "Gee, thanks, Sam."

"I meant... maybe you didn't make it," he explains. "Maybe we tell them we didn't find you fast enough. Nick Fury died, too, now who the hell knows where he is? This could be it. This could be your legacy. Saving those people. Saving New York. Stopping the Power Broker and The Flag Smashers. You fought the good fight - up until your very last breath."

"You mean?" your words trail off. A hero's death. A hero's legacy. A chance to leave the world a better place than the one you entered. And your freedom. It was everything you could ask for. You can't lie, it's tempting. 

Sam nods once, "Exactly."

"I'd have to go back into hiding again?"

"For a while. Maybe even a long while," Sam concedes. "But - but then you'd be free. No more fighting for your freedom. No more Accords. No more running. You'd finally be free."

"And then?"

Sam shrugs, "You'd have to keep a low profile. A real low profile this time. Probably means I wouldn't be able to see you for a while, but-"

Your eyes snap up to him. "We wouldn't be able to see each other?"

"Probably not," Sam acquiesces. "Not until all this new Captain America stuff dies down-"

Suddenly, all the temptation is gone. You would gain everything while losing everything that ever mattered to you. You shake your head just once, immediately replying, "No."

"No?"

You shake your head frantically, over and over again. "No, no, no. No, I can't - then I'll fight - I'll keep fighting, Ross, the UN, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes."

Sam takes your hard, squeezing it tightly. As if to remind you that even he's not there with you, he's always with you. Always. "But I thought you didn't want to fight anymore?"

You smile at him, wiping the tears with your free hand, "I think I just remembered what I was fighting for."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." You nod. Despite, that weight being lifted off both his and your shoulders, there's a heaviness in Sam's face that has nothing to do with you fighting for your freedom. "Sam? What is it?"

"There's more," Sam solemnly tells you. 

"Karli?"

Sam silently shakes his head, "No. The Flag Smashers, the rest of them..."

Dread washes over you. On the outskirts of your attention, you hear your heart monitor spike, beeping faster and faster. "Sam?"

"They're dead," Sam finally says. "All of them except Karli. It's just the two of you now."

"What? I thought - you told me-" All your words end in a soft, broken exhale. You can't process it. After everything, you really wanted to believe that their story would be different. You never thought their story would end like that. "I thought they were going to be okay."

"I know. I know."

"How?" you whisper.

"On the way to the Raft. In the truck. They think it was a remote detonator."

"Do they know-"

"No, they don't know who did it. They have suspicions, but they don't know."

You're stunned silent. The words hit you hard. They're gone. The people you worked so hard to save. Those lives, they were gone. You couldn't save them. It was only you and Karli now. You want to ask how Karli is doing, how she took the death's of her friends, her own found family, but you can't be sure who's listening, and you're not sure you have the strength to hear the answer to that question. And you're sure that she's taking it about as well as you did when you realized your found family was gone too.

Sam squeezes your hand. "I'm sorry."

You sit in silence for a long while. You lost. Maybe not entirely, but you still lost.

There's something in the back of your head, a memory you can't place. Tony, Steve, and Natasha, sitting in the Avenger's Compound, in the common room. The memory doesn't hurt, not nearly as much as it used to. You don't know how, why, or even when, but there's a crack in your heart that feels mended. Not healed. Not fixed - but mended.

It frustrates you, that you can't place the memory. Tony whispering that he could never hate you. Natasha telling you that you changed her story. Steve reminding you that there's always someone looking out for you - even when you think there isn't. You spend days, sitting in the hospital bed, staring out to the New York skyline, trying to remember that moment, but it only comes back in flashes, only finds you in your dreams. It feels so real, yet so distant.

Days past in that hospital bed. Bucky barely leaving his self-appointed spot in the chair beside your bed. Sam splitting his time between the hospital, discussions with the lawyer that you still haven't met, and his new Captain America responsibilities. You don't allow him to feel guilty. You remind him that as his sidekick, you're supposed to encourage his heroism, not keep him tethered to your hospital bed. You're not sure what Joaquin is up to, all you know is that Sam promised to fill you in once you were out of the hospital.

You're almost a week into being bed ridden when your eyes flutter open to find Bucky watching you sleep in an otherwise empty room. You groggily groan, squinting at the bright daylight shining through the window. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Sam went to get your things, to get some food. The doctor said you should be okay to leave tomorrow," Bucky morosely explains. 

You chortle, quirking an eyebrow at him. "You don't sound too happy about that."

"No! No! That's not it - it's just -" He shakes his head. "No, it's not the right time to have this conversation."

It's easier to sit up on your own, though Bucky still insists on doing most of the work for you. As you shift upward, Bucky props pillows behind you. "What conversation?"

"The what happens next conversation."

"Oh."

"You'll be going back to Louisiana."

"And you'll be here in New York," you reply. 

"Stay with me," he abruptly offers. His words are frantic, desperate, like he fears the moment the bubble bursts and reality seeps in once more. "Then we don't have to say goodbye any more. You said it yourself, you love New York. We can - we can just.."

Bucky's words stop just as abruptly as they started. He doesn't know the ending any more than you do.

"You don't know the end to that sentence," you solemnly point out.

"No."

You reach out to stroke his cheek. "Neither do I."

"You're not staying, are you?"

You shake your head. "As much as I want to, I can't."

There were a lot of reasons why you couldn't stay. Even if there was a part of you that desperately wanted to. You needed to step into the daylight first. You needed to allow yourself to step into the daylight first. You couldn't put off mourning any more. You had to learn to say goodbye. To learn to live with things that you couldn't change. You needed to mourn. To pine for the people you'd lost. You needed to rebuild your own life with your own two hands. And while you didn't know what that life looked like quite yet, you knew you wanted it to be your life. You needed that. Your life. Standing on your own two feet. Even if it was just for a brief moment.

He softly exhales, "Why?

"Because I don't need you to save me," you whisper. Tears well in your eyes. It didn't matter how many times you had to say goodbye, the words never came any easier. They would never roll off your tongue - especially not where Bucky was involved. "I just need you. I need you more than anything and - and I'm - I'm not ready for that yet."

He shakes his head, schooling his expression the moment he sees tear pool in the outer corner of your eyes. He tenderly wipes them away, "I'm sorry, this wasn't the right time to talk about this. I didn't want to upset you. I don't know what to say. Please don't be upset."

You wipe away a stray tear just as another begins to slip down your cheek. "No, no, I'm sorry, I know I was the one that said -"

"It's alright. I understand." He takes your hand, squeezing it tightly. "And if it means anything, I think you're right."

"I am?"

"Yeah, you are," he admits with a heavy sigh. "I think we've both got some shit to sort out, loose ends and all that bullshit. I just - I really don't want to mess this up again."

"Me neither."

He slowly leans in. "I want to be yours. More than anything. And once you're mine, I'm never letting you go, never again." 

You smile up at him. "I can't wait."

"Look at us," he chuckles through his own tears. "Being emotionally mature."

You laugh along with him, "No one said being emotionally mature was this hard."

"What if we did something a little immature first?"

You chuckle, nodding along with him. "What did you have in mind?"

He leans down slowly, giving you several seconds to stop him before he presses his lips against yours.

Your breath hitches as he kisses you, pressing the sweetest, most longing kiss he can muster. As he pulls away, he whispers against your lips, "Just wanted to do that one more time."

"It’s really hard to say goodbye to you."

"Well, then don’t."

"James…" you sigh, cupping his cheek.

He kisses the palm of your hand, letting it go for the last time. "I’ll see you later. Okay?"

"I’ll see you later."

In another life, it would have been easier. In another life, Bucky would be by your side and remain by your side. 

But more importantly, you know that in this life, and what you hope in every life, Bucky will always find his way back to you. There weren't many certainties in life. You learned that the hard way, learned it over and over. You and Bucky would never be over. It wasn't over then. It wasn't over now. Bucky was your constant, your certainty. He was it. He was it for you

And if you had to let him go one last time, just one last time, you would hold your head high as you had time and time again. You would hold onto the faith that he was your certainty, your other half. Bound to each other in a way that no amount of time, distance, no season of life, nothing, nothing could change. 

Sam lightly knocks at the door, breaking your train of thought. He juts his thumb toward the hallway. "You okay? I just saw Bucky leave."

"I told him I needed time."

"Oh."

"I think that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." A tear streams down your cheek. You wipe it away with a shaky hand. "Which says a lot considering I almost died like a week ago."

"It's not forever. It never is with the two of you. You two have a way of finding your way back to each other. Apparently, my threats mean nothing to Bucky."

"Thanks, Sam." You look over to your packed bags, the duffle bag that held your life for far too many months. You're ready for your life to begin again. You're ready for the next chapter. You're ready to go home. You're ready to have a home, a real home for once.

You hear the faint, familiar ping of your phone. Once twice. Over and over again. 14 times. 

Sam raises an eyebrow at you, "Jeez... someone's popular today."

You roll your eyes at him, looking around for your phone. "Could you pass me my phone?"

He does so without another sarcastic remark or quip. You're surprised to see who sent you all those messages. All 14 of them from one person.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I think everything is going to be okay."

Hope blooms in your heart as you read message after message, a reply for every one you sent to him all those months ago. 

"I'm okay. Thanks for asking."

"We're okay. I just don't know how to tell you that I miss you more than I should."

"I miss you, too."

"It's not weird."

"I hope you find what you're looking for."

"There is if you want there to be."

"I miss you. I'm sorry I didn't say that earlier."

"That sounds nice. I'd like to see it one day."

"I'm sorry. Apparently, I turn into an asshole when I get scared. Also, apparently, feelings scare the shit out of me."

"I'm not a trucker. Just a little idiotic sometimes."

"I get what you mean."

"I'm here. Anytime."

"We'll talk soon. I miss you."

"P.S. I keep a sunflower in the windowsill of my apartment. It reminds me of you."

You look up from your phone, tears shining in your eyes. You take a large gulp of air to tame your wildly beating heart. A peculiar feels overtakes you, basking over you like the daylight shining through the window, this pain, this grief, it wouldn't be for evermore. "Sam?"

He looks up at you with a slightly confused expression, "Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

A.N.

And that's a wrap on The Twin Flame... Before I say anything else, I just want to say thank you to everyone that stuck with me this far. Originally, this story was supposed to be 10 chapters following the plot line of TFATWS. And it just grew... it grew into something that I'm really proud of. It was a daunting story and there were times that I thought I wasn't going to make it to the finish line, but you guys are just so amazing. Like incredible. I don't know how I got so lucky, but the readers I have are just the best. All of you. Silent readers. Regular commenters. Whether you leave kudos. Funny bookmark tags. The reblogs of crying gifs. I mean that. Every single one of you. I thank all of you.

Moving on before I get any more sappy. We're not technically done yet. (It's me, hello? You thought I was going to end this story like that?) I do have an epilogue that's coming up and some extras that I've got waiting for you. I'm actually really excited to show you guys what I had and what didn't make it in, because let me tell you, it was a lot. A LOT.

And finally, the Grumpy x Sunshine series...at least once a day I think about this series' ending. I'm not quite done yet. And I'm only telling you this because I always get asked. No, this isn't the end for our lovable trio. Surprisingly, I have a little bit more in store for them. It's definitely not a forever series, but I'll be here as long as you guys want me to be.

Thank you. All of you. 💛

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064

[sakuraaachan]

REQUESTED - Trapped In-between - Izuku M.

Could you do something along the lines of getting trapped in a small space like a glass box or a dark concrete room, literally anything after a villain used their quirk on us while fighting as heroes.

Requested by - Anon

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for requesting!

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Word Count: 3896

Rating: NSFW | Smut | Confined Space | All charactered are depicted as 18+

Wanna submit a request? Click here

This is the full version of the story!

Ever since you were a child, you had an unwavering longing to be a hero. 

While many of your classmates played games and daydreamed about ordinary lives, you immersed yourself in stories of courageous individuals saving the day. Deep within you, you knew you were destined for something greater, something that would make a difference in the world.

To achieve your dream, you dedicated yourself to both your studies and physical training. You scored top grades in class, always pushing the limits of your capabilities. You hit the gym regularly, honing your strength and agility. Every spare moment was spent preparing yourself for the challenges that lay ahead.

However, your mother never shared your enthusiasm for this path you had chosen. She preferred a more conventional, established life for you—one filled with safety and the pursuit of "lady-like" duties. She worried about the dangers that awaited you and hoped that you would settle for a more traditional existence.

You knew very well of the dangers that came with being a hero, but never once did you expect to be put in a situation like this.

“Hey are you okay?”

You had just been fighting a villain alongside Deku. The man had quite the strange quirk, blowing up buildings left and right to create a distraction to escape. It seemed you and Deku would claim the victory of the fight, until everything simultaneously went wrong.

Buildings collided, and rubble fell, some of your suit ripped upon impact and your eyes burned from the tiny rocks falling on your face. But you were now laid on the ground, Deku’s weight crushing on top of you.

As the dust cleared, you covered your mouth and coughed. Waiting for all the noise to die down before you looked to see how fucked you were. Your legs were pushed up, knees on either side of Midoriya. It was then you realized the confined space you were stuck in. He was holding himself above you to avoid crushing you. 

As you looked around the area, avoiding direct eye contact with Izuku, you asked, "What happened?"

Izuku's voice carried urgency as he replied, "we’re trapped under some rubble from the explosion.”

You watched as Izuku strained under the weight, his back serving as a barrier between you both and the crushing force of the debris. His muscles flexed with the effort as he attempted to create more space.

He says, “I can’t lift the rock up all the way, so it seems like we’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.”

“Let me help,” you straighten yourself up a little and activate your quirk. As Izuku had said, it was quite heavy, but you used your quirk to lift the rock a little bit and stick it against another. You wouldn’t be able to get the two of you out of this predicament, but it gave enough room to get Izuku off of you.

"Thank you," Izuku said, moving from on top of you. He was still very close though, almost nose to nose with you.  "That makes a difference. We'll have to wait for more help to arrive, but at least this eases the pressure."

The area you were stuck in was quite cramped, you’d have to sit with your knees pulled up to your chest if Izuku hadn’t already curled into himself. It was dark, but you could still make out Izuku’s hero costume.

The silence was broken as you mustered the courage to speak, your voice hushed. "How long do you think we'll be stuck here?"

Izuku's minty breath brushed across your face as he chuckled softly. "Hopefully not very long. Someone's bound to notice we're missing eventually. They'll come to our rescue."

You nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. There was likely a rescue team working tirelessly outside, doing their best to locate and free you both. Yet, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered with worry, wondering what would happen if nobody found you, if help never arrived. The thought of running out of air and perishing in that confined space sent a shiver down your spine.

"Hey," Izuku spoke, his hand gently settling on your shoulder. The touch caused you to jump slightly, breaking the train of distressing thoughts.

You turned to face him, meeting his concerned gaze. His presence brought a sense of comfort, as it always did. His smile, his touch and the warmth in his eyes reassured you, temporarily pushing away the fear that had gripped you moments ago.

"It's going to be alright," Izuku said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We're in this together, and help will come. We just have to hold on and stay strong."

You nod, sighing a little as you let your body relax. “What now?”

"For now, we wait," he replied, his voice steady. "We stay calm and conserve our energy. It might take a while, but help will come."

As you fiddled with the torn pocket of your suit, a feeling of frustration washed over you. Fixing it now would add another task to your ever-growing list of things to do.

Reaching into the small pouch of your tool belt, your fingers found the familiar shape of a tap light—a reliable tool you carried for emergencies just like this one. With a small click, you activated the light, hoping it would provide sufficient illumination.

Unfortunately, it seemed the batteries were running low, casting only a dim glow in the darkness. However, your eyes had gradually adjusted to the lack of light during your time in confinement, and the dimness was no longer as hindering as it initially had been.

A sense of awkwardness began to settle in. With limited options for activity, you drummed your fingers on the ground, trying to dispel the unease that crept up within you.

Your gaze wandered, briefly landing on Izuku. In the dim light, you couldn't help but appreciate his features—his earnest eyes, the determined set of his jaw, and the strength exuded by his presence. It wasn't the first time you had admired his handsome appearance, as you had developed feelings for him since the early days of your career in the field.

Thinking back, you remembered the times when Izuku had offered a helping hand, guiding you through your initial steps as a hero. His unwavering support and willingness to lend assistance had left a lasting impression on you, fostering a deep sense of admiration.

“Y/n.”

As Izuku's voice reaches your ears, it pulls you away from your thoughts, prompting you to look over at him expectantly. However, the realization dawns upon you that in the dimness of your surroundings, he likely can't see your face clearly. In response, you emit a noncommittal hum, signaling your attention.

“Are you injured anywhere?” He asks, attention drawn to the torn fabric of your costume.

You shake your head, a small smile forming on your lips. "I'm fine, Izuku," you assure him, attempting to lighten the mood. "Just a few more errands to run once we get out of here."

The attempt at humor brings a hint of levity to the confined space, relieving some of the tension that had settled between you. You glance down at your torn costume, reassuring yourself that it's only the fabric that's damaged, not your physical well-being.

“I’m glad.” He says with a warm smile. “I care about you deeply, you know.”

Izuku's words reverberate through your mind, momentarily causing your brain to pause. The warmth that spreads across your cheeks is undeniable as you scratch the back of your head, trying to find the right words to respond.

"I-I care about you too," you finally manage to say.

His warm smile widens, and you catch a glimpse of the whites of his teeth as he speaks. "You scared me a little when you charged at the villain like that. Please don't do anything reckless like that again. You're very important to me."

A sense of gratitude wells up within you as you lock eyes with Izuku, the dim light casting a gentle glow upon your faces. "I promise," you reply softly, "I'll be more careful. Your well-being is just as important to me, Izuku. We'll look out for each other."

As silence settles once again in the confined space, you become acutely aware of Izuku's unwavering gaze upon you. His eyes, fixed on your form, make you feel small yet captivated, as if he could see right through you. Every time you meet his eye, his smile radiates warmth, further intensifying the heat placed on your cheeks.

The close proximity between you and Izuku heightens the intensity of the moment. You can't help but feel a surge of apprehension as your heart races, fearful that he might hear the quickened rhythm of your pulse.

“Deku-”

“Yes?”

He responds too quickly, as if expecting you to call his name. The abruptness of his reply catches you off guard, causing your intended question to fade away on your tongue, and you feel yourself shiver. 

Izuku's gaze softens as he observes your reaction. He reaches out, his hand hovering in the space between you. “Y/n?”

“Sorry,” you stutter out. Fiddling with your fingers as you find the right way to state your question. “I um..” You could feel your confidence slipping with every ‘um’ deciding to void your question and ask an entirely new one.

“I uh, just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Oh.” He says, “it’s no problem, like I said before, you mean alot to me.”

The gravity of his sentiment sinks in, causing your heart to skip a beat. Holy shit, you think to yourself, scolding your brain for briefly entertaining the idea of confessing your feelings in that vulnerable moment.

You silently thank your senses for reeling you back in, knowing that the timing may not be right for such a revelation. However, the question lingers in the back of your mind, the curiosity of what might happen if you were to express your emotions openly and honestly.

You were always one to go after what you wanted. And if Izuku were to deny you, he’d do it in the nicest way possible. With a surge of determination, you decide to seize the moment.Ignoring the insecurities that plagued you earlier, you lean forward, closing the gap between you and Izuku. Your lips gently meet his in a tender kiss.

Izuku's initial surprise causes a soft squeak to escape his lips, his body tensing momentarily. However, as you start to pull away, his hands instinctively cup the back of your head, pulling you back towards him, deepening the kiss.

His lips were warm, soft, like you had always imagined they were. It was like time stood still, as the excitement of his return to your kiss settled in your gut. As the kiss continues, the confined space feels less constricting, as if it expands to accommodate the shared emotions and desires.

Eventually, the need for air becomes apparent, and you break the kiss, gasping for breath. Your eyes meet Izuku's, both of you sharing a mix of surprise, excitement, and perhaps a touch of uncertainty.

The weight of your arms begins to strain from holding yourself up, but before you can adjust, Izuku's hands move with purpose. He pulls you into his lap, his arms encircling you with a sense of protectiveness and longing. Your lips meet again, the intensity of the kiss growing as you surrender to the depth of your connection.

His hands hold you by the waist, keeping you close every time you try to break away for air. He was suffocating you, and you absolutely loved it. 

Though you had initiated the kiss, it seemed Izuku was more eager than you. His tongue swipes at the seam of your lips, gaining a small gasp from you. As he pressed his tongue in your mouth, hands squeezing at the small fats of your sides, your hands found its way into his curly green hair. 

You reach down, hands feeling up on every curve of his abs, the want for his suit to come off burning within you. There was a zipper in the back of his suit, but as intoxicated by him as you were, you still knew it’d be unwise to fully undress him when anybody could lift this rock and catch you too.

The press would have a field day.

It still doesn’t settle right with you, making you let out a small whine as Izuku breaks away from your lips. “I know baby, I know,” he mutters, before taking a peck at your neck. “You can have all of me when we get out of here okay?”

As he squeezes your hip you press down on him, earring a groan from him as you meet his heavy hard erection. He’s quick to push you back down onto it, working for any friction that he can get.

He’s finally able to peel himself off of you, pushing you down onto the ground as he climbs over you. His chest heaves up and down as he catches his breath. “Are you sure you wanna do this? Here?”

You are also panting, your cleavage exposed by the zipper in the middle of your suit. His breath fans over your skin, sending chills down your body as you feverishly nod your head.

He kisses you again, more hungry than he was before. You could feel his hands creeping into your suit to fondle your breasts. You had never really worn a bra with your costume as it was already a tight fit, and practically had one built in already.

His lips break away from yours before trailing down to your breasts, his mouth accompanying the nipple his hand couldn’t tease. You gasp, the pleasure spiking you to sit up a little, reminding you of the painful concrete beneath you.

Izuku seemed to be rather busy, rotating from boob to boob while also giving your neck slight attention, he seemed to be ignoring the blazing feeling that was building up in your cunt. You wondered how he was even going to reach it. Unlike him, you wore a jumpsuit and your pants wouldn’t slide off easily.

But as fast as you pondered the question, Izuku answered it just as quickly, His hands finding one of the holes in your suit by your thigh, and tearing his way to your pussy.

“Deku!” You squeal. It would be much harder to explain the giant hole exposing your pussy when you were finally rescued, but Izuku didn’t seem to care.

“Izuku.” he corrects. “Just Izuku.”

As quickly as he tore your suit, your panties followed suit. The cold air that smacked your cunt was enough to make you clench around nothing and Izuku chuckles. Lifting one of your legs to  give him better access. 

You could hear your own wetness as he trailed his finger around your exposed area. You longed for him to touch you deeper, hoping he'd quit the slow adventuring and just dive in and touch you.

Finally, he pauses, his thump grazing over your clit. The roughness of his fingertips was enough to make you gasp. “There!” You squeak. “Please, more.”

His other fingers find home inside you as his thumb remains kissed to your clit. He rubs it while also pushing his other fingers in and out of you. With all the build of tension, you could feel every splash of your wetness, frustration almost reaching its peak.

It’s when Izuku presses his finger down that you shoot up and grab his shoulder, the amount of pleasure from the single poke is enough to make you orgasm. You slowly rest your nerves and lean back to lay back on the ground, but with the way Izuku continues his prodding and poking, you didn’t seem to get a break, your back continuously arching from the sudden spikes of pleasure.

“So sensitive,” he whispers. “Everytime I poke you just gush.”

He was going to drive you insane, constant muttering as he analyzed your every reaction. You needed more, finally falling down onto your back and taking a deep breath. With the abuse to your clit, and the way he hums every time you shutter, you wouldn’t last long like this. 

It was a little embarrassing how easily he’d make you cum just by prodding your clit alone. You’ve never been able to achieve that by yourself. 

“Izuku,” you cry out weaky. “I can’t- please.”

His eyes flicker up to you, just his eye contact alone makes you squeeze and he chuckles. “You must want me real bad hm?” He asks, “tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Touch me.” You utter.

“I am touching you.”

“Fuck!” You curse as he curls his finger slightly. “Please Izuku, you know what I mean.”

You can make out the grin on his face as he continues to tease. “I really don’t. Seems like no matter what I do you just get wetter and wetter, so I need you to be a little more specific.”

You hold yourself up by the elbow, meeting his direct eye. “Fuck me.” You demand.

“As you wish,” he slides his fingers out of you, shamelessly bringing them to his lips and licking your juices off. You could see some of your liquid siding down his finger from the small glare of its glisten. 

He pulls off you for a second, pulling his pants down as far he could, you watch as his cock flies free from its containment, red and rock hard, slapping against his chest. It was beautiful. 

It made you wish this was happening in different circumstances. You longed to get on your knees and take that beauty in your mouth. To tease him as he had done you earlier.

He almost struggles to line himself up, grunting as he taps your entrance with his tip. “Are you ready for me?”

“God yes.”

Nothing could prepare you for the stretch Izuku’s cock gives you as it slides it. Not only was it long, and thick, it was hot and you could feel everything. You choke on your moan as you gasp at the same time, the wind practically knocked out your lungs.

“Holy- fuck!” He cures, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re squeezing the shit out of me. Can you relax a little baby? I’m gonna cum too fast if you keep this up.”

You tried to relax, labored breathing as you attempted to regain your composure, but you were just too full. “Too big, I can’t-” you say, squeezing his shoulders as you clenched your eyes shut.

“Okay. I’m gonna move now,” he says cautiously. Slowly pulling out before rolling into you. Both of you respond with a loud noise, the pleasure making you dig your nails into his skin. He didn’t seem to mind, having to clench his fists to keep himself from losing it.

“You okay?” He asks, still testing the waters with slow rolls of his hips.

“I’m fine,” you hiss. “Just move, please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling back once again before pressing into you. The intense feeling makes you cry out again, and you wrap your arms around his neck pressing him further into the crook of your neck.

His mouth latches onto your skin as he thrusts again, finding a pace that gradually increased with speed as you both got used to the pleasure. He lowers himself on top of you, resting his weight onto his elbows so he could get closer to your face.

He kisses you, pressing multiple small pecks onto your lip as he continues to fuck you. You appreciated the passion, bringing your hands to crawl into his hair. He continues to fuck you, keeping your bodies close. The base of his cock rubs continuously on your clit, bringing out some delectable moans from you as it stacks along the pleasure inside you.

“I fucking love you,” he moans, his pace starting to get faster. His eyes were closed, mind now entirely focused on pleasuring you. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I-Izuku!” You try to speak but every word is met with a stutter. He’s too much, every thrust, every slide, every rub makes you pause mid sentence to moan. It doesn’t matter as Izuku isn’t listening, stuck in his own delusion of pleasure. 

“Mine, all mine.” He mutters. “None else can have this, nobody.” 

He sends you another thrust, causing you to repeat his name again and again. With every call of his name, he rewards you with a mind blowing thrust.

Your hands are now spread out on his back, scratching at his hero costume. You knew it wouldn’t budge, the durability stronger than your nails, but with each pounding thrust, you can feel the will to break the suit getting stronger. 

“More,” you beg. “Please, more, I need more of you.”

“I’m right here baby,” he sighs. “I’m all yours.”

You moan loudly at his words, hand cupping his face and bringing him in for a sweet kiss. You could feel your climax building, each push and roll of Izuku’s hips stacking up the feeling in your gut.

You weren’t going to last any longer. His cock was still burning hot, its heaviness felt with every harsh thrust. You broke your kiss to bury your face into his shoulder, intoxicating yourself with his smell.

“So close Zu, so close.” You begin to babble, losing your sense of mind. “Please make me cum, I’m gonna cum, god your gonna make me cum.”

“Fuck-” he trails he curse, taking one of his hands to abuse your clit again. “Cum baby, go ahead. Let it go.”

Your tongue would fly out of your mouth if this continued any longer, unable to control the sound of your moans as you feel everything crashing down. Your scream bounced off the walls of the rubble, your throat running dry from the duration of your scream as your orgasm ran through you.

Izuku kisses you, swallowing up the rest of your moan. He hadn’t finished yet, his hips still rolling. It was enough to make you squeeze around his, grunting from the overstimulation. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He mutters. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

His thrust met his maximum speed as he continued to babble, and then he suddenly stilled. You could feel everything. As he pumps his cum inside of you. Every rope makes you twitch slightly. 

He gives you a few extra bonus thrusts, before pulling out of you and catching his limp dick in his hand. You laid still for a while, the uncomfortable feeling of him cum oozing out of you keeping you from moving.

He tucks himself into his pants before doing his best to help your situation, but there wasn’t much. Your jumpsuit was torn alongside your panties, you’d been marked up like crazy and you were leaking cum.

Izuku chuckles, apologizing for his eagerness before he’s able to lift you so lay on top of him. He kisses the top of your head, taking in the silence of your soft breathing.

“I love you.” He says. “I really mean it when I say it.”

“I love you too,” you say, exhausted. 

©LuvloveUni

[drksanctuary]

In honor of PJO Series Release please have this: Alabaster Torrington and the Titans: The Lightning Heist. Introduction. Audio and Text below

Basically PJaTO from Al's Perspective. Like all opinionated white boys he started a podcast. Lol.

In case you don't want to listen to it text below:

INTRODUCTION:

Listen, I didn’t want to be a Demi-god…I wanted to be a wizard. And no, don’t let the accent fool you, I was not waiting on post delivered by an invasive species of bird seeking to whisk me off to some castle to learn “how to magic” or whatever. I wanted to have, use and practice Magical arts. SO when I found out that I was a Demi-god…it was the best news of my life…hehe, very naive of me in retrospect. Demigod life tends to end in abrupt deaths at the hand of monsters and if not that you just slog through the mortal realm as a mostly

Illiterate, undereducated problem child that seems to attract trouble.

Was I a troubled kid? Well actually, I was a rather unremarkable kid…it’s when I became a teenager that I became trouble. 😈 Trouble is my middle name. What? No I know that doesn’t start with a C. My actual middle name is- you know, I’m getting side tracked. No, Claymore they can’t here you you’re a ghost. Well I’ll I’ll just edit it out in post. Y-…n- I can hear you and it’s distracting. Shh!

…

As I was saying, I was a troublesome teenager. One that would often say “heroes never die” a phrase that, now having given it a little more thought, I feel I need to qualify.

I would never imply that heroes have to be immortal, goodness knows that for some immortality removes you from reality to such a degree that heroic deeds are no longer a priority. I would also never imply that those that have lost their lives in battle are not heroes. I would never want to insult them in that way. I could…never…I- *sigh*

What I find rings more true now is an equally popular phrase. “You either die a hero. Or live long enough to see yourself become a villain”. And after all, that’s what’s this is. This is a story…of a villain.

[gojosbf]

not that this justifies it but I do think what happens to Gojo furthers the foil between him and Sukuna, Sukuna who stands alone gladly and thus cannot be exploited vs Gojo who actively reached out to not be alone ends up exploited and denied bodily autonomy by the ones who he cared for and who genuinely cares for him…. I don’t like what it says about who’s mentality might be better but it certainly says something (if that’s what gege intended at all, if he’s not just interested in beating a dead horse for views)

To me (and forgive me if i don't sound articulate enough yet i haven't processed much) it represents two different kind of loneliness of two of the most powerful beings. Sukuna is lonely in a way that no one will ever rely or ever have that trust on him, when he dies there will be no mourners left, it'd be celebration but atleast his body wouldn't be desecrated and used as a weapon. Gojo on the other hand, he's looked up at by his students, they rely on him, they believe in him and even the choice to be used after his death was his own, his death will be remembered and mourned and they'll never forget him, in course of losing everything that he's got he left behind a legacy of trust. He might be a weapon but he'll always be loved so much more than that and than he will ever know. I guess what I am trying to say is even if both sukuna and gojo were to meet the same end and even if gojo had it worse, gojo always be one who's loved. Maybe it's the price he had to pay for being good or as the quote says "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain", that is one that says something about gojo and sukuna.

[themculibrary]

Loki Needs A Hug Masterlist

A Place In Time (ao3) - SnakeCharmer2023 loki/mobius T, 7k

Summary: Loki knew what he'd signed up for, replacing the loom at the end of time and sitting alone on the throne.

But what if the end didn't have to be forever?

A fix-it fic after the ending of series 2, because my heart can't take it.

Beautiful Figments (ao3) - mudgems M, 104k

Summary: “Hold on,” Stark says, attempting flippancy but falling well short of the mark. “I’m confused.”

“I think that makes two of you,” Rhodes says under his breath, but his visible concern remains.

Vision is not confused. If anything, he thinks the situation is suddenly, painfully, clear. “You do not remember yourself, do you?” he asks gently, and Loki finally meets his eyes. The hollow fear Vision sees there is obvious, and he wonders why he did not notice it before.

Broken Beyond Repair (ao3) - kittyhazelnut T, 31k

Summary: Loki had committed treason on a level Asgard had never seen. He would not be welcome back to his home realm. He would remain at the mercy of those he tried to control: the humans, SHIELD, and, of course, HYDRA.

By the time the Avengers come knocking HYDRA's door, Loki's long gone in every sense but the physical. Fortunately, even in his silent, fearful state, he's managed to make some friends. Wanda and Pietro won't let anyone hurt him. The Avengers are nothing but a threat, and Ultron makes them a promise that they'll be free of those so-called heroes soon enough.

(Basically, it's an Age of Ultron au where Wanda and Pietro have adopted a very broken Loki and they're determined to keep him safe.)

Brother (ao3) - Lynsds T, 24k

Summary: Overwhelmed with grief after Loki's apparent suicide, Thor is overjoyed to hear that his brother may be alive, if not well, and invading Midgard. It's not Odin that sends him there, but Frigga, and in this world, Thor is ready to observe and to listen.

It's not just Loki who has a lot of healing to do. But they're not alone anymore, and where there's life, there's hope.

For Eternity (ao3) - himynameisv T, 2k

Summary: Sometime during his centuries of self-imposed time loops, Loki begins to hallucinate Thor.

This is perhaps not the best indication of his current mental status.

Free Fall (ao3) - Daffanddahlodil N/R, 14k

Summary: Loki tries to function after learning of his adoption, but he’s not doing as well as he’d hoped.

Here, Here, and Here (ao3) - AuroraWest M, 68k

Summary: Loki and Thor have returned to Earth after two and a half years in space, and Loki, even after a winter in New Asgard, isn't sure he'll ever feel at home.

It doesn't help that as the alien who invaded New York City in 2012, he's been placed on probation by the UN for six months. If he can go six months without leaving New Asgard and without causing any trouble, he'll be free to visit anywhere he pleases on Earth. It's only six months. He can handle it.

Except Loki is bored. And what harm would it do if he just broke his probation a tiny bit? What are they going to do—send him to prison?

Well, yes. Yes, as it turns out. That's exactly what they're going to do.

In The Dark Alone (ao3) - every_oak_tree G, 17k

Summary: It starts at the end, really, with Ragnarök, with Asgard's fall (but Loki's been falling for longer, hasn't he?). It starts with the Mad Titan and the Statesman's explosion. It starts with a dead brother, his broken body sprawled on a spaceship's floor, miles and miles away from a home that no longer exists.

___ Something stirs inside Loki. He acknowledges that this is what he wants—but not all he wants. A newfound anger makes its way into his heart, surrounding it with an impenetrable wall of ice. He will be stronger this time, ruthless and unforgiving. Because when the world has taken everything, when they have stripped you off your armour and left you for dead, you have nothing more to lose. He can do better—no, he will do better. There is no alternative. You either die a loser or live to see yourself become a winner.

___ Or: where Thor dies at the Stateman instead of Loki, but his death will not go unavenged.

Loved and Lost (ao3) - forever_whippoorwill loki/mobius G, 4k

Summary: Loki hadn't realized how much he had missed the man's comforting presence until he was here and he could see it. Let me sit here, Loki's bones begged, at the sight of Mobius just out in his yard, and watch the wind blow through your hair and ruffle it in all the ways I want to.

He was too tired to keep that thought from running through his mind.

Old Habits (ao3) - Yavvys G, 7k

Summary: Odin knows that Loki will not change - not a cycle, not a hundred cycles later. But still, weak hope and smoldering feelings pull him towards the new guise of his adopted son, and the All-Father goes to visit the reborn god.

Once More, With Feeling (ao3) - NovaWasTaken1 T, 25k

Summary: Loki survives Thanos' attack on the Statesman by the skin of his teeth, the Tesseract, and a suicidal plan to save Asgard or die trying.

This changes less than you might think.

rest your eyes, weary god (ao3) - panthor loki/mobius N/R, 3k

Summary: Something blooms in their chest with that touch, something they try their hardest to push back down. As they walk, Loki thinks about how kind Mobius has been to them tonight. Tender, even. Enough to where they let their guard down enough to sleep in front of him. As much as they hate to admit it, Mobius has shown them more humanity than almost anyone else in their life. Despite where he works, Loki can see the empathy radiating from Mobius.

or

Mobius is just a nice guy.

Stay With Me (ao3) - Bookwormgal T, 17k

Summary: Loki had lost almost everything important to him, one way or another. His place in the timeline, his family, his sense of identity, his purpose, Sylvie... Even his first true friend was snatched away, along with the familiar version of the TVA.

But part of what makes a Loki was that they never give up. He would claw his way back and reclaim some of what was taken from him. So he searched through countless versions of the TVA until he found his way back to the right one. The one that had the right Mobius.

And if fate wished to steal him away in a more permanent way, it would have to fight Loki for him. He refused to lose anything else.

Toil and trouble (ao3) - AnsibleMechanic T, 44k

Summary: “When he made it back to Asgard and managed to outwit Odin himself, he only thought of ensuring his own freedom and survival. When Thor refused the throne (his brother chose the worst time to grow wiser), Loki was still delirious in his glee of finally making the biggest, funniest joke in all the realms – the lying Jotun trickster on the throne, and not a soul suspects it!”

Loki didn’t just eat grapes and watched amateur theatre in his dad’s robes for five years. Everything from TR canon is thrown to the wolves, and we have Loki having mental health consequences of his actions in various locations, with some inter-realm politics thrown in, with eventual relocation to the Avengers Tower (in true 2012 fashion) for more angsting and agonising. Hopefully with some friends we found along the way.

to see the world (as you do) (ao3) - T, 16k

Summary: When Odin finds a newborn babe in the war-torn wasteland that is Jotunheim, he takes it home; Frigga is the one to insist they must treat it as their own, and Odin loves her, so he obliges.

And then she dies, and Odin has no time for a child that only reminds him of the very thing he lost - he barely has time for his own young, grieving son.

So he locks it in the Vault, and calls it a trophy from the frozen realm.

or

All Loki knew for a long, long time were there four walls that held them, and the distorted view into the room beyond - filled with trinkets they couldn't name.

There were flashes of something else, of a woman who held them close and hummed lullabies, of a boy with hair like the sun, and a bright blue sky - but the memories were insubstantial and fleeting, slipping through their fingers like smoke.

You Screamed For So Long We Forgot To Care Anymore (ao3) - GalaxyThreads T, 126k

Summary: Five months after Thor drags his half-dead brother to Earth to plead asylum, things take a turn for the worse. With the older Asgardian out of commission and a sizeable threat overshadowing them, Clint becomes aware of two facts: One: Loki was tortured, mind-controlled, and manipulated into attacking Earth. Two: Loki knows none of this. (gen, no smut)

[notmorbid]

demon copperhead, pt. 2.

dialogue prompts from demon copperhead by barbara kingsolver.

i was born to wish for more than i can have.

there's a shoe out there for every foot.

it's important to leave home and take a look around.

i could be very rich if i decide to extort.

i wonder how it would feel to like who you are.

old homecoming queens never die.

who died and left you boss?

sorry to say your secret is out.

i'm gonna see bad spray tans in my nightmares.

nobody rides you like you ride yourself.

i used to think i knew what hurt was.

i don't like owing anybody.

i didn't fully believe you'd come.

i've got a surprise for you later.

does some law say we all turn into our parents?

half of me is sorry. the other half isn't.

don't look for money to buy your life back.

before we were us, we weren't anything.

you look like a plaid pillow.

i thought i knew it all, in those days.

people find more ways to shut up their monsters than a bible has verses.

let's go steal a tree.

the tall weed gets cut.

a kid in my shoes takes what power they can find.

the moon went to bed already, so what's wrong with us?

i'm a horrible person. the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be.

you're too good for me. i don't deserve you.

it wasn't a secret, i just knew you wouldn't like it.

you use what you've got.

my stomach feels like i've been eating rusty nails.

some good's been known to come out of bad luck, if you face it head on.

where is the motherfucking compassion?

this is still your home, if you want to stay.

the adult in my life is me.

you look like you've seen the dead.

we were kids playing house.

come hang out any time. i could stand the company.

you have to quit being so nice to people.

i'm not one to shut any doors.

i cannot get the hang of living alone.

you should be as mad as i am.

do you want to sleep tonight, or do you want the truth?

they did this to us. you understand that, right?

of all the good people i know, you're probably the best one.

everybody needs to dump on somebody.

i've lived long enough to know that shit doesn't really bounce off.

kids aren't the problem. it's parents.

the only person you need to worry about is yourself.

i have my own honor.

part of being a mature person is knowing your skillset.

another week, another shitshow.

feel free to have a look around.

the support has to run both ways.

good people don't give up on the ones they love.

i've stayed alive so far by staying on my own feet.

i need you to wake up. sit up. we have to talk.

i love you. i would never, ever want to hurt you.

i want to draw your hands.

it's sunday. everyone's either in church or sleeping off their sins.

i want to kill you, but i'm not going to let you die.

are you testing me? or do you really not know?

if wishes were horses, we'd all have different shit to shovel.

a fallen hero shatters into more sharp pieces than you'd believe.

i thought i'd be better off without the fear.

there'll be no getting over this.

a selfish heart will keep you alive, at least.

a snake with venom is gonna bite.

going nowhere fast is a kind of juice.

trust the road, because nobody stays.

in the long run you're on the road with your ghosts. you're the ship, they're the bottle.

rehab is like being married to sickness in a lot of ways, really.

a good story doesn't just copy life, it pushes back on it.

you never were one to fall only halfway down the well, were you?

i let you go. it's what i had to do.

[raelle-writing]

The reality is that most kids would be either a Fluke or Jin. If nothing else it’s because they don’t also want to be bullied or ostracized by their friends. You can criticize the choices that Jin makes but realize that he is also a child that doesn’t yet have the maturity and wisdom of an adult. I see this group of teens and their treatment of Non as a cautionary tale. Obviously this is ultimately a horror/thriller so everything is heightened to the extreme. Therefore I don’t have an issue with the gore, mayhem and fantastical elements. But this type of bullying could and does happen in real life sometimes with devastating tragedies. So I do wish that people on social media were more careful of the terms they use and directly harassing your character is not a good look. Hurling insults behind a computer screen hurts just as much as doing it in person. (IMO) The fact that they are essentially bullying you is ironic considering what DFF is about.

There is a certain irony to watch the fandom turn into bullies in defense of the bullied character. I understand being defensive of the characters you like (I'm defensive of Jin in case you haven't noticed lol). But I understand why people don't like him. I've never justified all of his actions, but I do genuinely think people are too hard on him a lot of the time.

And I also wish all the Non defenders would have a bit of nuance about his character too because he's a victim, but that doesn't exempt him from hurting others. I'll never say he cheated because I beleive we shouldn't apply that word to a situation involving coercion and power imbalances. But Non does still get his friends arrested. And he does lie to and gaslight Phee. And those are okay things to acknowledge while still having sympathy for him as a character.

I agree with you. I think most people wouldn't even do as much as Jin tbh because while he doesn't do enough arguably, he does a lot as far as defending Non over and over and over (even up until after Non disappears he's still snapping at his friends to address Non by his name). And it's really hard to be that level of defiant to your peers constantly. It's waaaaaaay easier to be Fluke and look the other way and tell yourself that you're not involved then, even if you could stop it.

Everyone online seems to have a hero complex and think they'd do the Absolute Right Thing even when there's no clear right thing in certain situations, and then they demonize these teenagers for not doing those things. (I made a thread on Twitter talking about Jin lying to the police and police corruption in the DFF narrative and in Thailand in general, including linking to a bunch of Thai tweets that talk about that and I got people replying to me saying that they live in countries with police corruption but they still would've told the truth to the police even if they would've disappeared and I got a good laugh out of that. It's so easy to be the hero in your head in a hypothetical situation, but reality is a lot harder than that).

Yeah, I don't know why this particular fandom seems to be so caught up on "if you like a character that I view as morally bad then YOU are a bad person" especially considering the audience crossover to the KPTS fandom like. Were you mad at all of the mafia boys doing mafia things in KPTS becaussssssse that was worse than a lot of what's happening in DFF so far ahahahaha

Anyway, I'm not ever going to demand that everyone likes Jin. I don't particularly care of people like him or not as long as they're not coming after ME about it. I wish people were a little less... vitriolic about the mistakes of teenagers, though I understand why many people are so mad about it. I just can't get past the idea that these people were all kids when they made these mistakes, and it's hard to see even Por die because I have sympathy for them all. Did they fuck up? Duh. Do they deserve to die...? I have a hard time with that, but I'm trying to be mentally prepared ahahahaha

I also hope all the people out there who have decided Jin is the worst person ever and deserves to die are prepared for if that doesn't happen. Because there are a lot of threads in the narrative point pretty strongly to a future redemption for him IMO (tho of course they could go in another direction, anything is possible at this point). And I have a feeling that all those people who are calling me names on Twitter aren't going to handle it well if Jin get redeemed or like... lives in the end. I have a feeling they won't handle that well.

Anyway, thanks for the message 💕

[havecourage-darling]

hey i have a request for eddie munson x reader where the reader is dustin's cousin and comes from a very rich family and her father is a lawyer. She has always been friends with Steve and was just as mean and arrogant as her and never liked Eddie because he kept picking on her (because he was in love with her since middle school) and she nicknamed him Eddie "The freak" Munson and just like Steve knows about demogorgons etc and while in Upside down Eddie saved the reader from the demobat that attacked her and then the reader and Eddie walk side by side in silence until the reader apologizes to Eddie for how she was towards him and they finally reconcile

A/N: This was very quickly written, not proofread, and did not have as much romance as I thought it would lmao I twisted this request around a bit – I’m not the best at writing bully romances or any type of bully main characters lol but I tried my best to adhere to the request! Hope you enjoy it anyway anon! and also, Eddie always lives in all my fics so yes, in this world they make it all alive kicking and screaming bcos denial is the town I live in and I’m the mayor.

wc: 5K

DISINGENUITY, you decided, was the most unattractive trait the human race had.

“We’d be so happy to see you next summer!” The blonde in front of you said, smile an easily spotted ruse.

A sharp elbow to your ribs spurred your own fake smile. “Of course, fingers crossed!” You beamed, discretely bringing your other hand up to your side to help the sharp pain. As you slowly slid away from the conversation, eyes on the refreshments table, you smiled at the few gazes you caught. Your own fakeness disgusted you. Glancing up at your parents, you watched their own smiles – ones that hadn’t seen a side of sincerity in decades.

Your cousin’s voice echoed throughout your mind, bouncing around the walls. You either die the hero or live long enough to become the villain. As you reached for a stupidly ornate glass of lemonade, you sipped at it and mentally cheered yourself. Love live the evil queen, you thought, smiling into your glass. Maybe Steve had been right. Maybe the struggle of your lifetimes wouldn’t be the Upside Down but to fight against the fact that you could both easily turn out to be your parents.

Eyes slipping towards them, you saw your mother draped over your father’s arm. He squeezed her hand, eyes on the couple in front of them. Despite being out of earshot you knew what he was saying, the same thing he’d been saying all night. Expression smug, as if he’d gotten the acceptance letter himself, you could see his lips form the words.

Harvard.

Our little princess got into Harvard. We’ll have a new lawyer to take over Henderson & Harrington Law within a few years.

The other acceptance letters had fallen away once he’d seen that maroon logo. It didn’t matter what you wanted. The echoes of a paintbrush in your hand and the scent of acrylics swirled around you. What you wanted was never part of the deciding factor. Not when you begged to go to Hawkins High with your friends, public school? Absolutely not, and definitely not now.

Pride, was the second most infuriating trait one could possess, you thought to yourself. Dropping the half empty glass back down onto the table. You glanced around the room and suddenly couldn’t stand it any longer. The laughter, the peacocking, even the feeling of the stupid dress around your body. You hated it. Everything.

Willing to deal with the fallout later, you hurried over to the coat check and thanked the bored teenager for your things. Hands gripping your car keys, you were glad you’d insisted on driving.

The sound of your engine turning was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Hands clenched at the wheel, you drove without much thought and tried to ease the knot in your chest. Despite the drive, you weren’t shocked to find yourself at the end of a familiar driveway. The sight of the one-story home carved out enough space in your lungs to exhale. The tension of the night going with it, dissipating into the night air.

Your heels clacked against the brick pathway, your hand pressing the doorbell once before a short-curly haired head appeared as the door was yanked open.

Dustin didn’t even look confused at your appearance, you hadn’t planned on visiting tonight, his smile bright and wide. “Hey! We’re watching He-Man, my mom’s out with her friends or something, want some popcorn?” He asked, already walking back into his living room.

Lucas and Mike waved, both also unsurprised, and you nodded. “Sure, thanks.”

As he disappeared through the kitchen, he shouted, “Your stuff is in the duffel where you left it in my closet!” The sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants you kept here sounded heavenly. The expensive pink monstrosity on your body could burn for all you cared.

With a smile, you ducked your head and kicked off your painful shoes. Wiggling your toes against the shag carpet, you let them adjust to being free for a moment. Numbness waning, you glanced around at the wood paneling and it felt like more like home than anything ever did.

//////

You stopped being afraid of wandering back into Hawkins a few weeks into the new semester. Robin had all but blackmailed you into visiting more often – despite the fact that you reminded her every time you could, that you lived literally one town over – and was trying to convince you to apply for a job at Family Video.

“Aren’t you bored?” She asked, pleading her case. “Most of your friends are off at school, right?”

Steve cleared his throat, a pathetic attempt at covering up his laughter, “Maybe bringing up the fact that she took a year off from college and none of her friends are around, isn’t the best way to convince her?”

Robin’s cheeks went pink. “That’s not what I meant! She graduated like first in her class!” She spun around to you, almost toppling a precarious tape tower in the process. “You know that right? I’m just saying, we’re your friends! Sure, the Byers up and left but most of us are still here!”

“How’s your dad taking it?” Steve asked, pulling himself up on the counter. You scrunched your nose, twirling in the chair by the computer. “Still unamused?”

A year off? Deferring Harvard? For what? What could you possibly need time for? You useless child!

Used to ignoring the echoes of your parents, you waved away the memory that followed you everywhere now. “How’s your dad taking this new job?” You countered and smiled when he snorted.

“Touché,” he muttered, “all I ever hear about is how Henderson managed to get his daughter into Harvard. It’s starting to get old.”

“How do you think I feel?” You muttered. “I don’t even know if I want to go yet.”

Robin whistled. “Have you mentioned that to them?”

Steve laughed outright this time. “If she did, she’d really need a job here because her dad would have an aneurysm.” You nodded, taking another bite out of the red vines, the tidal wave of anxiety lapping at your feet.

“So, what? You’re just going to go through life according to your parents’ plan?” Robin asked, hands going to her hips.

You exchanged glances with Steve and the both of you nodded. “Yeah, pretty much,” you said, voice sounding morose even to you. “That’s what Harrington would’ve done if he used the brains he had instead of chasing after Wheeler.”

“Hey!”

This time, Robin snickered. “You guys are weird,” she muttered, going back to shelving tapes. Steve, however, dropped a hand over yours and squeezed. Smiling gratefully up at him, you knew he understood. You and Steve had been roped together from before either of you could walk. Collateral damage of having parents that shared a law practice together. Steve and you had gotten lost there for a few years but it had been hard, at least it had been for you.

There were only so many times people could put you up on a pedestal, awing at you, before you started believing you deserved it. It wasn’t until Dustin kicked it out from under you that you humbled yourself. Steve got there eventually – and despite their criticism of him, you understood. There were too many nights that saw one of you at the other’s empty big house, stares blank and hands desperate for an escape from reality.

“I’ve got a year and hey, at least Harvard is far away enough from them,” you said, fingers trying to brush against the bright side that always seemed just out of reach.

“Yeah,” Steve snorted, his own sarcasm bleeding through, “because them being not around is such a problem.”

And what a pair you two made. The abandoned trophy children of parents who couldn’t care less despite how much either of you tried.

Eyes dancing across the wall, you almost choked on your mouthful of candy. “Shit, is that the time?” You asked, hopping off the stool and almost snapping your ankle in the process.

“What, got a hot date with a senator’s son this cold Friday afternoon?” Steve asked, snickering as he dodged the red vine you chucked at him. Hurrying towards the doors you shot him a glare that would have any normal human cowering. In your tenure, you’d gotten good at those. People avoided you in your town, and that’s the way you liked it.

“We promised never to speak of that again,” you hissed, almost baring your teeth of the reminder of that disastrous blind date. “I promised Dustin I’d start picking him up from school Fridays. He’s got some club this year? I don’t know but I don’t want him riding a bike in the dark.”

Steve nodded, understanding, and you waved goodbye to Robin. All of you knew how deep Hawkins’ underbelly went and the things that hid in it. You didn’t want to take any chances, not with Dustin.

Hawkins High’s parking lot was mostly deserted by the time you pulled in, the winter grey sky forcing you to turn your heating up. You glanced around the mostly empty school and frowned. You were ten minutes late and he wouldn’t have left for a least a good chunk of time. If anyone worried more about you than Steve, it was Dustin.

Right as you were contemplating hopping out the car and into the school, the side door at the far left slammed open. The loud, chattering voices cut through the looming darkness and you smiled when you heard Dustin’s voice.

You stepped out the car, leaning against your door, and almost laughed when one of the guys that looked closer to your age glanced at you. “Uh, guys, no one freak out but there’s some hot girl staring at us right now.”

A few pairs of eyes darted over to you and you saw Dustin gag. “That’s my cousin, asshole!”

“She’s also way out of your league,” Mike said, loud enough for you to laugh. The other guy looked both insulted and embarrassed.

Grinning, you lifted your hand up, already stepping towards a scowling Dustin when a seventh person joined them. Freezing in your tracks, you felt like you’d swallowed your tongue.

“What the hell are you guys laughing at?” Eddie asked, shoving his arms through his leather jacket.

The world, for a brief moment, stopped spinning.

“Gareth’s drooling over Dustin’s cousin,” Lucas joked, dodging the hand that came out to swipe at him.

Brown eyes darted up and landed on you. His lips parted and the surprised puff of air that escaped was visible in the cold. Both of you blinked at each other, the others muttering around him.

“Come on Four Eyes,” Eddie teased, malice dripping from his voice, “walk a little faster, will you?” His shoulder smacked into yours, tipping you into the lockers and you lost the grip of your books. Eddie disappeared around the corner but you were on your knees – scrambling to grab all your things from the floor.

“Move it Four Eyes!” A voice to your left said, foot knocking into your side. You wheezed, scrambling faster, but another foot slammed down onto your fingers. Tears blurred in your eyes as you stood, aching fingers pulled to your chest. “Even Munson hates her,” another voice said, “what a loser.”

“What?” You said, blinking away the memories from middle school. Realizing Dustin had walked up to you, you smiled faintly down at him. “Hey kid.” You shoved the memories back into their cave, bending their will to your own. That girl didn’t exist anymore, you told yourself, trying not to panic. She was gone.

Brows furrowed and mouth twisted into his infamous suspicious expression, he brought a hand up to your arm. “What’s wrong?” He asked quietly, eyes on you.

“Nothing,” you said, glancing over his shoulder and towards the group that was walking over.

He’d grown his hair out, you realized. Clearly leaning into the look, you weren’t surprised to see the Dio denim vest over the jacket. “Well, I’ll be damned, I didn’t realize that the Henderson I went to school with was this Henderson’s cousin.”

You hummed, clenching your hand and grounding yourself as your nails dug into your palm. “Why would you know? I didn’t think you even knew my name,” you said, tone bored. Dustin’s eyes darted between you two. Eddie’s eyes widened a little, startled, at the hostile undertone of your voice.

Lucas smothered his laughter poorly and Mike elbowed him. “You two know each other?” Dustin asked, crossing his arms.

“No,” you answered before Eddie could, “not really.”

Hurt flashed across his face and you don’t know why. You didn’t know him. All he’d ever done was make all of middle school a nightmare for you. He didn’t know you then and he certainly didn’t know you now.

“Well, considering I owe my moniker to your cousin, I’d say we know each other a little bit,” Eddie said, a pink flush crawling up his neck when everyone’s eyes snapped to his.

“What?” Mike and Lucas said in unison but Eddie’s eyes were steady on you.

Guilt crept up your spine.

“Hey, Henderson!” You whirled around, eyes widening a little as someone stumbled into your line of vision.

Two of your friends giggled, their laughter pulling a smile from you. Carefully manicured nails reached out to steady the gangly stranger. “Sorry, do I know you?” You asked, voice dying when a pair of familiar eyes glanced up at you as he straightened. “Oh. Eddie.”

Panic clawed at your chest, anxiety ricocheting inside you like a firework. Painfully aware of where your new friends were waiting a few steps away, their gazes on you. You’d only just clawed your way back up from the bottom, you couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Gianna’s dad, her stare heaviest, was your dad’s biggest client. Sweat prickling at the small of your back, you crossed your arms.

“I haven’t seen you since you moved away,” he said, eyes lighting up like he was excited to see you. Which you didn’t doubt – there were a good amount of people around to humiliate you. He always did like a crowd.

“Right, can I help you with anything?” You snapped, your gum popping. Claire, next to Gianna snorted, her own cruel streak a mile long. Eddie’s expression faltered and you quirked your brow. “Hello? Jesus, can you even speak?”

“I-uh…”

Rolling your eyes, you tried not to freeze when Claire stepped up to your side. “Everything okay here?” She asked, one perfectly plucked eyebrow rose. Her arm slipped through yours and you hated yourself for how relieved you were. “Oh my God, look at what he’s wearing,” she whispered loudly and you hated the flush of pink you saw on his neck. “What a freak.”

Without giving you another moment, Claire’s nails dug into your skin and yanked you back towards the group. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”

Payback felt a lot like a heavy rock in your gut but you ignored it.

Wanting to leave this entire scene behind, you turned to Dustin. “Ready?” You asked, knowing that he could read the anxiety in your voice. His eyes darted between you two and nodded slowly.

“We’re still going for burgers, right?” He asked and you grinned at him. If anyone could compartmentalize, it was Dustin.

“Yeah, dude, of course,” you said, ruffling his hair and smiling when he glared at you. “Wanna tag along?” You asked Mike and Lucas, who were already following behind you like lost ducks.

With a bit of distance between the two of you, your lungs finally sputtered back to life. Turning around, you glanced at Eddie. “I’d say it was nice to see you but…” you shrugged, hoping the remark hit any mark.

Eddie, however, grinned and you hated yourself for wanting to smile back. “You can’t ignore me forever sweetheart!” He shouted, clearly unselfconscious. He waved, turning towards the far end of the parking lot and you watched him.

Jealousy swirled in your chest. He was so carefree, his eccentricity something he clearly didn’t care about anymore. We want that, your heart murmured, we want to be free too.

“Ready?” Dustin called out from the passenger seat. You shook off the small voice inside you.

We don’t get to have that, you told it, beating it back into submission. Cambridge, Massachusetts awaited, nothing else. The faster you accepted it, the easier it’d become.

“Yeah,” you said, hating how your voice wavered, “let’s go.”

////

You watched Eddie chug Yoohoo and tossed him some cereal. He shot you a smile but you ignored it and opted to rub your temples. It’d been a day since Dustin had called you, voice high-pitched and scared, and you still hadn’t managed to wrap your mind around it all.

How the hell was this happening? Again? You fought the pressure behind your eyes and pinched the soft skin at your inner elbow. Breathe, just breathe. You glanced at Eddie as he sat in the raised boat, listening intently to the others as they spoke. Max’s hand came up to squeeze yours and you smiled at her.

If you could’ve kept anyone out of this, she would’ve been your choice. You knew she wasn’t dealing with the aftermath of Starcourt well, none of you deserve to go through this again. Eyes drifting over to Eddie again, you fought the panic in your gut. If what Max said about Chrissy’s body was true…he would’ve had front row tickets to that show and you couldn’t blame him for running. You had the first time you saw that thing in Byers’ house.

“Hunt the freak right?” Eddie said, voice twisting around the words, and your eyes slipped closed. You knew how relentless this town could get; you were proof of that. Eddie wasn’t a saint but he didn’t deserve this. None of you did.

Especially since, like the idiot you were, you’d started to grow a soft spot for him. It was bound to happen, you tried to rationalize, you’d been picking Dustin up from school after Hellfire, every Friday for three months. It took weeks for you to actually respond with full sentences, Dustin’s hovering protective glare not helping. But Eddie was anything if not determined.

He’d actually surprised you last week, he’d gotten you your own figurine. A sorceress with a pet dragon. “In case you want to actually join us one day,” he said, stupidly endearing smile on his face.

A choking sound brought you back to the moment. “Listen, there’s nothing to worry about,” Dustin said, voice too high-pitched for him to sound even remotely believable.

Steve walked over to you as the three of them bickered. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, pulling the knuckle rubbing your eye away from your face.

“My contacts are killing me,” you admitted, not having changed them in the last day since after you’d found Eddie – you, Steve, and Robin had all crashed in his bed – a mess of tangled limbs. You’d woken up to a mouthful of Robin’s hair and with Steve’s knee in the middle of your spine.

“Do you want to stop by your house to get more?” He asked quietly – but clearly not quietly enough.

Eddie’s voice pierced through the conversation. “I always thought you looked better with your glasses,” Eddie said, eyes bouncing around your face, “before you moved away.”

“Move it four eyes!” The taunt bounced around your head before landing at your feet and rolling off into the lake water.

Flinching like he’d struck you across the face, you felt your walls slam back down into place. Was he mocking you? Now of all times? Jesus fucking Christ, how many times was it going to take before you learned that lesson? How many times would you stand there and let people hurt you?

The eerie silence felt like a tornado around you. Sneering, you knew your face was twisting into your most comfortable facade.

“Right, like we’d ever be a thing – freak,” you snapped, turning around so quickly your hair whipped through the air. “I’ll be in the car.”

Chest heaving, you waited a moment outside the door and felt your chest crumble as your heart raced.

“What the hell just happened?” Eddie said.

“Dude, are you serious?” Dustin asked, tone defensive.

“What? Me? She’s the one who’s always coming after me!”

“You started it! What did you expect?”

“What?”

“How do you not know? You’re…you’re the reason she hates her glasses,” Dustin said quietly and you let your eyes slip closed.

Fuck.

“What?” Eddie’s voice was barely audible.

Steve’s voice was serious, the tone protective even from out here. “Yeah, man. That stupid song you used to sing? About her being a four-eyes? That followed her to her new school. Her dad had to pull major strings because she punched some dude who followed her around for weeks messing with her. I’m pretty sure she snapped her glasses in two after that.”

“She won’t even wear her glasses around me,” Dustin said, tone defensive, “and I’ve never made fun of her for it.”

“I wasn’t – that wasn’t-”

“She might be a mean girl to a lot of people,” Dustin said, “but you don’t know what it’s like, her life. She’s…it’s a lot to deal with. I know her, I really know her, and she’s never been mean to around me.”

Steve’s sigh was audible from where you stood. “This…just got a little more complicated.”

As if knowing that he needed the emphasis, you threw yourself onto the floor as a line of police cars shot past the road up ahead of you. What the hell?

///

For the first time, in a long time, you eyed Steve Harrington. He eyed you back with equal fervor.

“Keep glaring, we were both potty trained at the same time. You don’t scare me, Henderson,” Steve said, crossing his arms.

You bared your teeth at him and he flinched a little.

“That didn’t count. You used to be a biter, that was a natural reaction!”

Deciding to go with kindness, you placed your hands on his forearms. “I’m the better swimmer. Steve, I taught you how to swim.”

“I was a lifeguard!”

���I taught you how to swim. I turned down a swimming scholarship to Princeton.”

Nancy sighed, hand coming to her temple. “Just let her do it Steve, she’s the better swimmer. Trust her.” You shot her a grateful look.

“I mean, if we’re voting here – I vote Harrington,” Eddie piped up and you almost snapped your snipe at the speed of which you whirled around to glare at him. He threw his hands up and smiled sheepishly at you.

Steve, however, threw his hand out. “You see!”

“Yeah, we all know it’s because he’d rather lose you than Henderson, don’t flatter yourself,” Robin snorted. Ignoring that quip, you decided to use the sudden bickering to your advantage.

Slipping your jacket from your shoulders, you dropped it into Robin’s lap. You yanked your shoes off and considered taking your jeans off but stopped yourself. The lake couldn’t be too deep.

“Here,” Robin said, handing you the flashlight, keeping a tight grip on Steve’s arm. “You get a minute before I unleash the hounds and he goes looking for you.”

“Three minutes.”

“Two.”

“Deal.”

Eddie peeked over the edge of the boat and winced. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“Oh, shut up,” you snapped, executing a perfect dive into the water. Without much effort, you found the glowing red gate and stared at it for a moment. Fuck. It really was back. As if in a trance, you watched your finger reach out for it when a large shadow startled you. Shaking your head, you pushed off the floor and surfaced with a loud inhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how long does it take to check for a glowing red gate?” Steve snapped, hands scrambling for you.

Shaking him off, you sputtered, anchoring yourself to the edge of the boat. “It’s there, guys – it’s at the bottom. It’s more of a small sized gate than the ones we’re used to but…” you stopped, feeling sudden pressure at your calf. Your eyes caught Eddie’s and you brought your hand out to his arm instinctually. Water shot up your nose painfully and you struggled against what was pulling you under. Eyes stinging, you tried to orient yourself but could only focus on the burn in your lungs. You hadn’t taken a proper inhale before you went under and you were almost out of air.

Suddenly the world around you went right side up and you gasped, lungs trying to expel the water that had lodged in your chest. The ragged ground cut you, the pain barely noticeable as you dug your nails into the vine around your leg. It stopped dragging you once you managed to pierce through half of it, your nail beds destroyed. Adrenaline rushed through you as you scrambled to stand, blood trailing down your sides.

Loud screaming had you searching the dark sky above you. What the hell? Were you…shit. Glancing around for a weapon, you grabbed a discarded and rotting oar before you lifted it in the air. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shouted, swinging it so hard that your bones rattled. The sound of wings had your heart jump into your throat. Shit, you were outnumbered.

The first sharp cut into your arm had you dropping the oar, pain radiating down your limb. You tried to swat at it with your other hand, the feeling of flesh slapping against it. The bat screeched at you, its stupid claws scraping against your face. The third’s tail reached for your neck and you ducked, only narrowly avoiding it.

“Get the fuck away from her!” A voice screamed, echoing in the empty – wherever you were. Eddie launched himself at the third one, splitting in two easily.

“Eddie,” you gasped, arm still hanging limply. The world around you spun but you forced your eyes to focus. You couldn’t fall apart, not now.

A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and he shoved you behind him. “Don’t worry,” he said, teeth gritting, “I’ve got you.”

Both of you swat at the remaining bats, desperate, and Eddie only narrowly avoided another when Steve came running full speed. Nancy and Robin, drenched, followed.

You all stared at the baby gate, your body leaning entirely too much against Eddie’s. “We gotta go,” Nancy said, “come on, into the forest!”

Steve walked along your other side, shouldering your weight so that you could walk faster. You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you, his palm searing against your waist. “This is Lover’s Lake, come on – we can hide under Skull Rock!”

Eddie tucked you under the rock first, his hands careful as you panted – trying to catch your breath. God, your shoulder really hurt. Eddie’s face was twisted into worry as he peered at the gashes, his fingers coated in your blood. “I think it stopped bleeding. I’m going to wrap something around it to help keep it covered from…whatever the fuck this is in the air.” He ripped the bottom of his shirt and winced as he started wrapping it around your arm.

“I can’t believe you jumped in after me,” you said, watching Steve, Robin, and Nancy argue over what to do next.

Robin quipped up. “He dove in faster than Harrington.”

Eddie glared at her, not at all intimidating, and you blinked. “Why?”

The vein, lavender under his skin, throbbed and that seemed to be the breaking point for him. You watched, fascinated, as he stood up and paced in front of you. “Because I’ve been in love with you since like, middle school!”

Everyone quieted and you could feel Steve and Robin’s eyes on you.

“Right,” you said flatly, struggling to stand and put distance between you two.

His arm jutted out like he was going to pull you back but seemed to remember your arm at the last minute. “No, wait, please let me explain!” He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t…I was just teasing you…I didn’t think it was – that you thought-”

“This is painful,” Robin whispered loudly to Nancy and you watched Eddie flush bright red.

“I didn’t know how to properly express my emotions, obviously, and I thought you knew. I thought that’s why you were always so…”

“Mean?” You finished for him, shocked. “I didn’t know! Eddie what, - why would you - what.”

He ducked his head, hand coming up to the back of his neck, and sighed. “I don’t know, okay? I thought it’d get your attention.”

“By being an asshole?”

“Hey, you weren’t a ray of sunshine yourself.”

Anger flashing through you, Steve stepped between you two and put up his hands. “Everyone calm down. You’re both children. You,” he turned to Eddie, “learn how to communicate effectively and how not to be a bully.”

“-but-”

“And you,” Steve said, turning to you, “I know sometimes it feels like only we understand each other but, you’ve got to learn to let other people in. You did with Robin and look.”

Eyes darting over to Robin’s, she grinned and wiggled her fingers into the air. Biting back your laughter, you turned back to Steve and nodded. “Yeah, alright, whatever.”

“That’s as good as you’re going to get,” Steve told Eddie, turning back to Nancy. “Okay, now let’s get walking.”

Groaning as you stood, Eddie’s hand shot out tentatively and you nodded at him. “Thanks,” you said, using his arm to help steady you. “I need shoes.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie said, glancing down at your feet. Without hesitating, he pulled his off and bent down to help you into them. “They smell like dirty lake water but, you won’t cut yourself.”

“Wait, no, it’s okay-” you said, struggling for your balance as Eddie forcibly picked up one of your feet. Your hand shot out to his shoulder before you toppled into him and let him tie the white Reebok’s onto your foot. “Eddie, you’re going to cut your feet now.”

He shrugged, eyes looking up at you from the ground. “I’m pretty sure you’re missing chunks out of your shoulder, Henderson. And your feet are already bleeding. I can take the hit, you can’t.”

“I can do it,” you started, initial stubbornness bursting out the gate. It quickly dwindled after he shot you a look and you groaned. “Alright, thank you.”

Eddie continued tightening the laces and his hair brushed against your hand. You couldn’t help but reach out and trail a finger over the frizz. Had he really liked you for so long? Even after…after – everything? Not one to easily forget a grudge, the knot in your stomach tightened. He’d caused – no matter how inadvertently – a lot of shit for you. But…he’d apologized. And middle school had been years ago now.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I know I didn’t necessarily start the – the nickname but I didn’t stop it either.”

His eyes darted up, still half kneeling in front of you, fingers frozen at the last loop. “Oh.”

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” you started to ramble, anxiety suddenly bubbling up, “I shouldn’t have spread it around. I was just so hurt by how mean to me you always seemed to be and I’ve always thought you were kinda cool because you didn’t seem to give a shit what anyone thought of you. Besides, Dustin worships the ground you walk on and as much as it kills me, he’s a good judge of character.”

The silence after was painful and you winced.

“Thanks for diving in after me,” you added after a beat, “you didn’t have to.”

A slow, steady, smile grew on Eddie’s face as he stood up. “I did, have to,” he said, his hand brushing against yours. “You may not have liked me but my heart has always stubborn. It’s always been you.”

You ducked your head, flustered. Why did it feel like something within you had yawned awake?

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” he said, “these past few months, I…I’ve really looked forward to seeing you every Friday. I always thought we’d be good friends.”

Steve’s voice echoed through the decrepit trees. “What the hell are you two doing? Keep up!” His hands went to his hips and you flipped him off, smiling when he huffed audibly. You started walking towards him, feet feeling a million times better, and you inhaled.

You were never the brave one. Not with the Upside Down, or the demogorgons, or when Billy had tried to kidnap you. You’d never, not once, spoke up to your parents. You wore the dresses they wanted, went to the parties they needed you to, made friends with the right people, and did everything you were supposed to.

A dream, one that not even Steve or Dustin knew, swirled within your ribcage – a secret you’d kept only to yourself. You wanted to rip the Harvard letter to shreds and never step foot in Cambridge. The letter you’d hidden under your mattress, the one that called your name every time you laid down to sleep, that was your secret.

Dear Ms. Henderson,

On behalf of the Rhode Island School of Design, we are pleased to offer you admission for the fall semester of 1986. 

Fingers twitching, like you could feel the paintbrush in your hand, you exhaled. You wanted to stop feeling like you couldn’t breathe every second of every day because it felt like you had an elephant sitting on your chest.

Eyes turning to Eddie, who was walking carefully over the slithering vines, you realized you wanted to be brave. For once.

“I think we’d make good friends too,” you told Eddie, pretending to introduce yourself – like he was a stranger…and maybe he was. “Do you often find yourself in an alternate dimension with your friends?”

The blinding smile that he shot your way felt a little bit like healing.

“I’m Eddie Munson,” he played along, shaking your hand, “and yeah, a normal Sunday for me, you know? Some people go the beach for spring break, me? Livin’ on the wild side.”

A laugh escaped you and you shook your head at him but Eddie’s dopey smile had you surging forward to press a kiss to his smudged cheek. Skin tingling, you almost laughed again at his dazed look. “Not that I’m complaining, but do you go around kissing all your friends? Because if I would’ve known that I would have made a better effort.”

Flustered, you looked down at the vines and shook your head. “No, only the ones who dive into a lake and climb through a gate into another world to try and save me.”

“That seems incredibly specific,” he joked, offering his hand to help you climb over a pile of vines. You intertwined your fingers, his small smile igniting something in your chest.

“It is,” you said, smiling back at him, an understanding settling between you two. Maybe you’d be brave again, after you’d made it out on the other side of all this. Once you’d learned more about him, after some time, maybe…maybe you could be brave together.