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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 10 months

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The Thin Line | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not, considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.

A/N: This one comes from this request that I received a while back! I have been criminally slow in responding and I sincerely apologize. Hopefully this makes up for it a little bit 🤍

Warnings: blood and violence (all canon for the MCU), someone takes a severe beating (may or may not be reader), ANGST, fluff scattered here and there, fatws!Bucky, banter, mature themes and allusions, grumpy!Bucky

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Hate. There was perhaps no other word as final and lasting as hate.

People had always said that there was a thin line between love and hate, that the two emotions were so similar it was often hard to tell them apart. But not to you. You knew the line between them distinctly.

You had seen people fall out of love as easily as the winking out of a candle, and in the same manner you’d watched a person’s hate burn on even past the grave. You couldn’t understand how someone could mix up the two emotions, not when love had always seemed so fleeting and hate so persistent.

What you didn’t know just yet was that the passion involved in both love and hate often danced upon that line you were so sure was distinct to you. You didn’t know that love, real love was barely an emotion at all. And you certainly didn’t know that when one person truly loved another, it was anything but fleeting.

It was the one thing that lasted longer than hate.

But it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know. After all, how could you? You’d never known real love.

At least, not yet.

|||

The sky seemed to sparkle as the rare sunshine blasted through the clouds and beamed down upon the city of Brooklyn.

But in this moment, you couldn’t fully appreciate its glory. No, not when this happened to be the day you were moving box after box of your belongings into your new apartment. The dazzling sun dared to make you collapse under its rays as you hauled out the last box of your stuff from your car. Sweat slipped down your spine as you managed to slam the trunk shut while balancing the box precariously on one hand. With a huff, you gripped the last box tightly and swiveled towards your apartment complex for the last time.

By the time you’d managed to get into the lobby and over to the elevator, you were practically dreaming of being able to drop down this last box into your new apartment and drop dead on your new couch. You could almost taste the beer you’d picked up on your way into the city and-

“You have got to be kidding me!” You exclaimed, dread coursing through your frame as you read the sign taped onto the elevator doors.

Out of Service.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” The concierge called, leaning on his desk and offering you an uncaring smile, “Stupid thing’s been breaking down all month.”

And you haven’t fixed it yet?

The angry words stayed in your head as you decided with a long sigh that the argument wasn’t worth it.

“That’s fine,” You gritted out, adjusting your hold on the box, “I’ll just take the stairs.”

“Good luck,” The concierge wished, his tone bored.

Not even an offer to help you? The urge to yell at the worker was growing by the second, but you were determined to start this mission out right. Gritting your teeth, you walked over to the stairs and started climbing them without giving yourself time to hesitate. This was going to be a long journey up, and you’d rather get it over with as fast as possible.

By the time you reached your floor, your arms were trembling with effort and your legs were moments from giving out. You took the last step up the stairs onto your floor, letting out a sigh of relief as you paused only for a moment. Just a few more steps and you’d be at your door.

You took half of a step when someone slammed right into you. With the box obstructing your view, you couldn’t see the person coming and they clearly hadn’t seen you. You let out a yelp as you stumbled back towards the stairs behind you. In sudden panic to not tumble down them, you released the box you were holding to free your hands. Just as you were grappling for a railing or something to keep you from falling, a gloved hand gripped your arm and yanked you forward, away from the stairs.

You stumbled right back into the person who had just collided with you seconds prior. As you fell into their hard chest, you were bewildered since you were sure you had dropped the box right…

As you glanced up, you saw the box you had released resting easily on one of the stranger’s hands. His other was still holding your arm, and it was then that you realized that his hand was ice cold. Even with the glove on. With furrowed brows, you glanced up towards the stranger.

“Thank-” Your words died abruptly as your eyes met steel blue ones burning down at you. His hair was shorter and his face was drawn into a look of slight annoyance, but it was him. Your mission had run into you before you could even move into your apartment, “You.”

James Buchanan Barnes released your arm, his stubbled jaw clenched in the way you figured it often was. You would be lying if you said it was only your mission that made your thinking halt so swiftly, because none of his pictures did Bucky’s roguish beauty justice. He was ruggedly, painfully, hopelessly handsome, and you scrambled to collect your mind.

“Don’t mention it,” Came Bucky’s low reply. His voice shot straight through you, setting your hairs on end and stirring something in your chest. With easy strength that now made sense, Bucky held onto your box with one hand, “Moving in today?”

It took every ounce of your strength not to giggle. His words were strained and almost…awkward. You knew he didn’t talk much anymore, but it was hopelessly adorable how he was trying to make small talk. With a smile you kept restrained, you nodded.

“In that unit right there, actually,” You replied, walking over to your door and turning back towards the super soldier, “Thanks for saving my box.”

“I think I saved more than that,” Bucky quipped, his tone smooth and rough all at once. You raised an eyebrow at the man.

His arrogant charm was still intact, that’s for sure.

“Well thanks for that too,” You responded, pulling your keys from your pocket and unlocking your door. As you shouldered it open, you held out your hands to take the box back.

You could tell he wanted to carry the box in for you, a remnant of the 40’s manners that were ingrained deep within him. You kept your hands out for the box, to which Bucky gave in swiftly. You breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he did. Had he brought it in for you, he would have seen the surveillance equipment and weapons scattered about the unpacked apartment.

“Well, I’m next door if you need anything.” Bucky stepped back once you had the box in your hands, half of your body inside your open door. You smiled at him, internally cheering that this mission had already begun on such a great foot.

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” You announced, your trained eyes taking in the bags underneath his eyes and the tense hold of his frame, “I’m Y/N.”

He hesitated only for a moment, “Bucky.”

And just like that, he had turned on his heel and walked away towards the stairs. You watched him go for a second, intrigue filtering into your gaze. He was distant and detached like you had expected, and the air of grumpiness he bore was unmistakable. But there was a softness to him that you couldn’t deny. Only a touch, but it was there.

Before he could see you watching him, you fully entered your apartment and made sure the door shut behind you. Setting the box down with a huff, you settled your hands onto your hips and surveyed the controlled chaos before you. A few handguns lay strewn around, and your secured technology was piled atop the couch you so desperately wanted to drop onto.

But you couldn’t sleep, not just yet. There was work to be done.

Out of your entire CIA division, you were the operative that Sam Wilson had tasked with keeping an eye on his lone wolf of a friend. Even though Sam knew he could take care of himself, he had asked you to keep tabs on Bucky to ensure he was safe, especially since the Winter Soldier had racked up a list of enemies just dying to exact revenge now that the world was back to semi-normal.

But this wasn’t the Winter Soldier. This was Bucky Barnes, and even though you knew he could handle his own, you were not going to take this mission lightly. You would look out for him, make sure he didn’t drop off the grid like he loved to do, make sure no rogue enemies took him down.

You would protect him, even though you knew Bucky would kill you and Sam if he found out.

So, you would just have to keep him from finding out.

|||

It had been almost two months since you moved in, and the most you had talked with Bucky since your first encounter was in passing on the stairs and the occasional elevator ride.

Of course, you had formatted your daily routine to oppose his perfectly, ensuring you would run into him as many times as passable for coincidence in a day. Even with that, though, all you managed to get out of Barnes was a nod or the occasional hello. He truly was a lone wolf—quiet, grumpy as hell, and, well, alone.

Even with his avoidance of you and all other humans in general, you managed to survey him nearly every day. It had been quiet. No intruders, no threats, no disappearances. Physically, he was perfectly safe. Mentally?

You shook your head at the thought. Bucky needed a life. And social interaction. Sam called you often, wondering if he was still alive considering how much Bucky dodged his texts. It was almost like he wanted to be separated. Like he was punishing himself for something.

That last thought rang through your mind as you started cleaning the dishes you had acquired from your dinner. As the warm, sudsy water ran across your fingers and over the pot you were washing, your brows were furrowed in concentration. If Bucky really was keeping his distance on purpose, maybe protecting him physically wouldn’t be the object of this mission.

But you weren’t trained for that. You were trained for gun fights and strategy and high-level, covert operations. You were trained to infiltrate criminal holdings and take down dangerous individuals. You were trained to attack, protect, defend, strategize.

That’s why you noticed that Bucky Barnes’ door didn’t open precisely at the same time that it had every night for two months.

You paused in your dish-washing, setting down the pot into the sink and turning off the faucet. Letting silence cloak your apartment, you listened closely for the sound of his footsteps or the shutting of his door.

Nothing.

He could be running late, but Bucky never ran late. He never-

There was the smallest shuffle of a foot against your wooden floor.

You shot your hand out and grabbed the knife you had just washed, but you were a moment too slow. Just as your hand closed around the handle and you began to turn around, your back was shoved into your fridge and the knife ripped out of your hand.

Before you could even blink, Bucky Barnes had you pinned against the fridge with his metal hand around your throat.

Your pulse ratcheted up painfully, your eyes wide as you gripped onto his metal wrist. His grip wasn’t constricting your airway, but was applying enough pressure to remind you that your life was currently in his grasp. Bucky was close to you, so close that you could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes as well as the fury that crossed through them.

“Who the hell are you?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was dark and rough and even, and it should not have had the effect on you that it did.

His body heat poured into you with how close he was to you, and the cold metal of his hand was a sharp contrast. Breathing was difficult, and not entirely because of his hand on your throat. There was something in the air between you, something thick and palpable. You swallowed, keeping your breathing as even as you could.

“Your neighbor,” You responded, not entirely having to fake the tremble in your tone.

“Bullshit,” Bucky growled, his grip on your throat tightening the slightest bit, “You’ve been tailing me for weeks. Who do you work for?”

“Just because our schedules clash doesn’t mean-”

“If one more lie comes out of your pretty little mouth, I’ll make sure whoever hired you is the only one who knows your death wasn’t an accident.” Bucky was unflinching, cold hard rage burning across his features. Beneath it, though, you could see fear. So much fear. It made your heart nearly crumble.

He was scared you were here to hurt him.

“I’m with the CIA,” you finally whispered, your tone no longer shaking despite his outright threat. For some reason, you knew he would not hurt you, “I’m here to watch out for you, make sure you’re safe.”

Bucky’s grip on your throat lessened the slightest bit, and his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of why the CIA would surveil him. Not giving him a chance to speak, you continued, “And I’m pretty sure the person who hired me would come here and beat your ass himself if you killed me.”

You paused, nodded your head to the side slightly and said more to yourself than him, “Well, he’d try.”

“Who hired you?” Bucky repeated, his tone less harsh than before, but just as dark.

You took a beat to consider your options, but conceded defeat with a sigh, “Sam Wilson.”

Being so close to him, you could see every emotion that flashed through his face. As you watched him work through anger to frustration to annoyance, his grip on your throat loosened until his hand was just resting against your neck.

“Unbelievable,” Bucky grumbled, pulling his hand off of your neck and stepping back in one swift motion.

You let out a full breath, bringing a hand up to touch your throat where his metal hand had just been. You felt suddenly cold without his body heat by you, but it was a cold that you welcomed. If this was how he was going to thank you for trying to help him then you couldn’t wait to be away from him.

You looked over to see Bucky a few strides away, his phone pressed to his ear and his hand on his hip. Before you could speak to him, whoever he was calling must have picked up, but you didn’t have to guess at who it was.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky suddenly exploded, his jaw tight. Whatever Sam said didn’t appease him because his exasperation only intensified.

“You Sharon Carter’ed me!” Bucky gritted out, “Steve was clueless so he didn’t notice until she was on his doorstep with a gun, but did you really think I wouldn’t?”

“Sharon Carter’ed?” You mumbled, confused. Shaking your head, you took a step closer to Bucky, “Listen, if you’ll just give me a minute to explain,”

Bucky stopped you, pointing in your direction, “No, you don’t get to talk here.”

Shock crashed over you as he continued to argue with Sam over the phone. Indignation flared within your chest and you sputtered for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that he had just shushed you in your own apartment.

“Nuh uh,” You interrupted, anger flaring hot in your veins as you stormed over to Bucky, “This is my apartment and you do not get to waltz in here, choke me out, then tell me I can’t speak.”

“You choked her out?” Sam shouted on the other side of the phone, so loud even you could hear it. Bucky’s eyes were hard as he dropped the phone to his side and took a step closer to you. He was menacing when he wanted to be, and right now, towering over you with a quiet sort of anger, he was. If only you scared easily.

“Oh really?” He nearly whispered, his anger flooding down at you. You could see him getting more frustrated the longer you stared him down right back, your chin tilted up and your gaze as leveled with his as it could be considering his height and stature, “You’ve been spying on me for weeks and now I’m the one invading your space?”

“I wasn’t spying on you, I was looking out for you. If you haven’t noticed, your friend is a little more than worried about you!” You fired back. You heard Sam saying something on the phone, but it was still down by Bucky’s side.

The two of you were staring each other down, that same thick tension in the air. Not thinking about the consequences, you reached down and snatched the phone from Bucky’s grasp and turned it on speaker.

Bucky looked at you in pure shock, as if he couldn’t believe you’d actually just taken the phone from him.

“You’re on speaker now, Sam,” You informed.

“Finally,” Sam sighed over the phone, his tone surprisingly even and patient, “Buck, you gotta understand where I’m coming from. You don’t answer anyone’s texts, you don’t check in, and I know for a fact you’ve had one or two unwelcome visitors at your door.”

“I can handle myself, Sam,” Bucky gritted out.

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to! I know that it’s hard with Steve gone, so-”

“No, you don’t know.” Bucky’s voice was final, and Sam paused, not seeming to fight with his statement. Bucky stared down at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. There was a sadness in those words, one that nearly shattered your heart. Your anger towards the super soldier softened the slightest bit.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Sam conceded, “But I’m trying to reach out here. We don’t have many people left, man. I don’t want to lose another friend.”

That seemed to soften the edge of Bucky’s frustration so deeply that even the frown set into his face disappeared. In its place was resignation.

“I’m not here to intrude on your life,” You chimed in, making Bucky glance up to you, “I’m just here to make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky grumbled.

“I’m not your babysitter,” You assured, “And trust me, after tonight I want to spend as little time around you as you do around me. So, let’s make a deal. I keep to myself and you don’t break into my place and try to kill me in my sleep.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes surveying you closely. On the phone between you, Sam piped up, “And you have to answer my texts.”

Bucky groaned, running a hand through his short, dark hair before shaking his head. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed in defeat, and you couldn’t stop the small smile of victory that tugged on your lips.

“Fine,” He gave in, his eyes turning up to lock with yours, “But if I see you tailing me one more time, deal’s off.”

“No promises,” You responded boldly, your heart pounding strangely as Bucky took a menacing step closer to you.

“Then no promises about breaking in,” He shot back. The two of you glared intensely at each other until a voice called out from the phone.

“Alright you two, knock it off,” Sam ordered, sounding so incredibly tired, “Now can I please go? You caught me right in the middle of my beauty sleep.”

You chuckled softly, a smile ghosting your lips again, “Bye Sam,”

You ended the call and handed the phone back to Bucky, who you found already staring at you. You couldn’t place the look in his gaze, but it seemed akin to disdain, so your smile dropped.

“How did you even get into my apartment?” You asked. Bucky kept his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps bulge against his long-sleeve Henley.

“You tell me, you’re CIA,” He shrugged, looking too smug, “Or should I call Sam back and tell him he sent a novice to babysit me?”

“Stay out of trouble, Barnes,” Was all you said back, your jaw held tight.

“Have fun with your dishes,” Bucky dryly responded, brushing past you without another word towards your door. Frustration bubbled up within your gut, and it took every ounce of your patience to not turn and yell right back at him. So, taking a deep breath, you turned and watched him open your apartment door.

He paused and glanced back over at you before he was fully out, “And stay out of my way. I’m doing this for Sam, not because I need your help.”

Then he slammed your door and left.

Taking all of your energy not to scream, you let out another sigh and put a hand to your forehead. Gone was the distant, polite neighbor. You had failed epically, but you couldn't from here on out.

Bucky Barnes was going to make your life hell, and you already dreaded every second to come.

|||

Over the next month, your nods and hello’s in passing turned into grunts and, if you were lucky enough, the occasional insult you could fire back at.

In short, you loathed Barnes.

Looking back, you couldn’t fathom how his handsome features had drawn you in when you first met. Sure, he was still stupidly attractive, but now it was more frustrating than it was something to fawn over.

You still did your job as best you could, but you counted the days until Sam could come up to New York and take over the mission for you.

Currently, you were mulling over ways to subtly infuriate Barnes more than you already did as you walked back to your apartment complex from your run. You tried to get out and run at a park nearby a few times a week, but considering how much you hated running, you’d missed a few weeks in the process.

Today, though, you just had to go. You needed to clear your head after you bumped into Barnes this morning and he informed you that somehow, the potted plant hanging on your balcony “accidentally” ended up on the ground five stories down.

As you walked back into the cool lobby of your apartment building, you glanced up at the stairs that sat right beside the elevator. You paused for just a moment, considering if you should be healthy and take the stairs. That moment was swifter than you’d like to admit as you turned towards the elevator only to find the doors closing.

Against the protest of your legs sore from your run, you jogged over to the elevator, “Hey, hold the doors!”

As you approached, you saw a hand shoot through and stop the doors from closing just in time. As they opened back up, you sighed in relief, an easy smile on your features, “Thanks. I-”

As you stepped into the elevator, your words died. As you and the person who had held the elevator for you locked eyes, the both of you groaned.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You grumbled at the same time as Bucky Barnes.

The elevator doors shut, closing you into one of your worst nightmares—the two of you stuck together in a confined space. The air was heavy and the tension high, an uneasy silence settling in the air. Your chest tightened slightly and your body tensed up, almost as if you were waiting for something to happen. Deciding to be civil, you looked over at Bucky and offered him a cordial smile.

“Had a good day so far?” You asked, your voice strained.

Bucky just shook his head, “If you try to make small talk right now, I will throw you into the elevator shaft.”

Your smile dropped instantly, replaced by a grimace, “You are so violent, you should really talk to your therapist about all that pent up anger.”

“I hate you,” Bucky grumbled.

“Well that makes two of us.”

Almost as if on cue, the elevator comes to a grinding halt. The stop is so sudden that it jolts the box, making you gasp and grab onto the railing along the wall opposite Bucky.

“What the hell?” Bucky grits out, walking up and pushing the button to your floor repeatedly. When that doesn’t work, he pushes the emergency button only to have no response. That button must have been broken too.

Realizing suddenly your predicament, you brought a hand to the bridge of your nose, “This is not happening.”

Of all the times for the stupid elevator to break down, it chose now? When you were stuck inside with the one person in the world who hated you the most?

“Hello?” Bucky called out, banging on the side of the elevator.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s gonna fix it,” You criticized, shaking your head at Bucky.

“Well what else are we supposed to do? The damn help button won’t work,” He fired back.

“I know you were born almost a century ago, but we have these things called cell phones and they do this magical thing where we can call for help.” You pulled out your phone and showed him the emergency call screen for show. Shaking his head, Bucky grumbled something about “insufferable” under his breath as you called for help.

While you were on the phone with emergency services, you explained your situation only to be told the fire department was caught up and wouldn’t be able to help for another hour.

“An hour?!” You exclaimed, already planning how you were going to beat the hell out of the management team for not fixing the stupid elevator.

“I’m sorry, that’s the best we can do,” The emergency operator apologized. Suddenly feeling guilty for you outburst on the poor worker just doing their job, you sighed.

“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault. Thanks for the help,” You amended, your tone softer this time. After hanging up, you slipped the phone into your pocket.

“Well, looks like we’re stuck here for a while so get-,” Your words halted abruptly when you looked up and saw Bucky opening the doors of the elevator by force, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting out of here,” He gritted back, shoving open the doors easily. You almost laughed when he was met with a solid brick wall. With a smug smile, you tilted your head at the soldier.

“You were saying?” You sweetly taunted. He shot you a death glare as he let go of the elevator doors, allowing them to shut back.

“It’s gotta be an easy fix,” Bucky mumbled to himself, walking back to the wall opposite you and beginning to bang on the side of the elevator.

You gasped as the elevator box began to tremble under his hits and you lurched forward, grabbing his bicep to stop his assault, “Stop! You’re gonna send us plummeting straight to the basement.”

“Well then maybe I’ll get lucky,” He grunted, shaking off your hold and going to hit it again. This time, real fear hit you.

“If we drop, you’d make it unscathed,” You began, and Bucky didn’t even look at you.

“Exactly, so what’s the-”

“I wouldn’t.” Your words are softer than even you’d expected, but it managed to halt Bucky’s assault on the side of the elevator. He glanced back at you, and in that moment you understood exactly what hung in the air unspoken. He was a super soldier, you were a normal human.

He couldn’t respond before the elevator gave a sick jolt.

You gasped, your knees nearly buckling from the fall. Before either of you could react, the elevator was careening down in a free-fall. You barely had time to scream when Bucky’s strong arm was around your waist and tugging you close, pressing you between the elevator wall and his body. He held you in a death grip, locking you against him and effectively saving your life.

Luckily, just as quickly as the fall had started, it stopped with a brain-shaking halt.

The silence that followed was thick, and you didn’t realize you were gripping Bucky’s shoulders until your mind finally was convinced you weren’t going to fall to your death. Coming to your senses, you felt your body pressed tightly up against Bucky’s and looked up to see him staring down at you, his brows drawn together and the hate in his eyes missing.

It was then that you realized you could no longer ignore the tension that was present whenever he was near you, because in this position it was overwhelming.

The moment was over as soon as it had begun. You were shoving him off almost as soon as he was letting you go. Breathless, you shoved Bucky’s shoulder, “What the hell, Barnes? You could have gotten us killed!”

“Then you would have failed your stupid mission,” Bucky pointed out, only making you angrier.

“You are infuriating,” You seethed, holding your hands out in exasperation, “Are you trying to get me to quit? Are you that insistent on shoving everyone else away?”

Bucky shook his head, his jaw held tight and his blue eyes on fire. He was staying silent, shutting down again like he often did. That only made you angrier, but a part of you yearned to get closer, to prove to him that you weren’t going to leave him.

Once again, as if on cue, the elevator began to move again with a jolt. You let out a breath of relief, your anger turning into exhaustion. Just as the elevator stopped, this time at your floor, you got off first, Bucky close behind.

“Fine, give me the cold shoulder,” You called out to him as you approached your door beside his. You fished out your keys and stopped, looking over at him as he ignored you and worked to open his door, “Do what you have to, but I’m not leaving you.”

Bucky froze, turning to look at you. Something in his gaze stirred your heart, but you kept your gaze strong and unflinching, “I’m seeing this mission through, whether you like it or not.”

Then you opened your door and went inside, leaving Barnes out in the hallway, still frozen with his keys in his door.

|||

That night, you couldn’t get to sleep.

You tried everything—sleeping supplements, reading, counting sheep. Nothing worked. Your mind refused to settle down, running over your elevator encounter with Bucky over and over again. The way he seemed to stall when you said you weren’t leaving him, the way he had grabbed you the instant the elevator dropped, the way you could still feel the burn of his arm around your waist.

The way being held by him had felt so infuriatingly right.

You covered your face with your pillow, willing yourself to forget what you just couldn’t seem to. You didn’t have to try long when the sound of something scraping on glass caught your attention. Slowly, you pulled the pillow off of your face and listened closely, the silence of your apartment settling over you like a blanket.

Maybe you had dreamt the noise. Maybe Bucky really was getting to you head and it was making you cr-

There it was again.

You sat up this time, your brows furrowed as you swiftly got out of bed. With silent feet, you crept to your window and pulled down one blind just enough for you to peer out into the dark night illuminated only by the haze of streetlights below.

Nothing. Nothing, nothing…there.

In the murky night, your strained eyes caught a glimpse of a rope hanging down off to the left of your window. Towards Bucky’s apartment. Looking a bit harder, you saw another, and then another. Then, now that you were listening, you began to hear the soft thuds of shoes against brick and iron and glass.

Someone was going to break through his window.

Suddenly vaulted into action, you jogged out of your room, grabbing the gun you kept on your nightstand as you did. You didn’t stop to consider the fact that you were only in a large t-shirt with no pants on. The only thing you could think about was Bucky sleeping next door while those intruders busted into his windows. In a matter of seconds, you were out into the hallway and pounding on Bucky’s door.

“Barnes, let me in,” You hissed, your voice low so as not to wake the neighbors. When there was no response, you pounded your fist against the door again. The sound mocked the repetitive thumping of your heart within your chest, its beats not only for the fight to come or the sudden burst of energy.

“Come on!” You pressed, in the middle of another round of knocking when the door flew open. On the other side, a very pissed and very shirtless Bucky stood, his muscular arm barring the doorway.

“This better be good,” Bucky grumbled, his voice closer to a low growl.

If this were any other time, you would have taken a moment to appreciate the sculpted plane of his body or even to notice the blanket strewn on the hardfloor indicating he didn’t sleep in a bed. You didn’t worry about any of that, though. Instead, you shoved past Bucky as soon as that door was opened, your gun raised.

“What the hell are you-”

Bucky was cut off by the shattering of his window.

You had four rounds fired off before the first two intruders could set their feet in the apartment. The blasts were muffled by the sound suppressor on your gun, but they found their targets with no less force or deadly precision.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed, the sound of his dog tags clinking as he sprinted over to the window just as the third and fourth intruders touched down. This time, these two made it down, the bullets lodging in the wall or their vests.

Then Bucky was on them, his metal arm catching one by the throat while he kicked the absolute shit out of the other, sending the intruder flying into the wall. The plaster cracked behind him and you shoved your gun into your waistband, no longer able to fire without risking hitting Bucky.

As Bucky incapacitated the intruder he had by the throat, you made sure the one he kicked stayed down. As the attacker staggered to his feet and rushed you, you dodged his clumsy hits easily and landed a crushing uppercut to the underside of his jaw. The sound of his teeth snapping together was sickening, but you were unfazed.

As the large attacker stumbled back, you rushed him and slid to the ground. You wrapped your legs around one of his and tugged, bringing the large invader crashing to the ground with a force that made the floor shudder. Moving quickly, you maneuvered yourself on top of the downed intruder and whipped out your gun, holding it directly at his head.

Suddenly, the apartment was silent except for the panting of both you and Bucky. You glanced up to see Bucky standing over the invader he was fighting, his bare chest heaving with breath. Probably more out of shock than exertion, you figured.

Turning your gaze down to the one pinned beneath you, you held the gun steady, “Who do you work for?”

The man smiled up at you, his teeth full of blood, “You’ll have to kill me,”

“Okay,” You said simply, moving the barrel of your gun to his shoulder and pulling the trigger.

The invader let out a strangled cry of pain at the nonfatal injury, his body writhing beneath you.

“Let’s try this again,” You gritted out, pushing the gun closer to his chin, “You tell me who you work for, or the next shot goes into your brain.”

“He’ll kill me for telling you,” The man nearly sobbed.

“Who’s he?” Bucky growled, staring down at the attacker mercilessly. When he didn’t respond, you clenched your jaw.

“Either die now for not telling us, or die later with a chance of making it away. Your choice.” Your words rang through the room as both you and Bucky stared down this terrified intruder. A pang of sympathy ran through you that was quickly smothered because in the end, he had come after Bucky.

And for some reason, that made your vision bleed red.

“Kingpin,” He finally cried, his eyes shut as his blood seeped into Bucky’s floor, “Kingpin sent us to silence the Winter Soldier.”

You had to fight to keep the shock from your features long enough to whip the butt of your gun across the blubbering man’s face and knock him out. Once he was silent beneath you, you stood slowly and looked over to Bucky. His jaw was clenched and his eyes holding that same haunted look they often did.

“I had a run-in with Kingpin as the Winter Soldier,” Bucky muttered, his eyes trained down on the floor where the four intruders were, “I managed to get past his defenses, tore through them like paper. What I found nearly sent him to prison for good if Hydra hadn't cut him a deal.”

The words broke over you, making your mind whir, “So if he’s coming after you now, after all this time,”

Bucky looks up at you, his blue eyes nearly knocking your bravado out, “Then that means he’s got something going on he wants to make sure no one finds out about.”

You took a moment to process the implications. Kingpin had something big going down, not that he didn’t always, but now it was more personal. Now, it involved Bucky, which meant it involved you.

“I’ll get this mess cleaned up,” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his short, dark hair, “Go back to your apartment.”

That was it? Not so much as a thank you?

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “That’s one way to thank someone who just saved your ass.”

“You didn’t save anything,” Bucky gritted out, taking a step closer to you in that intimidating way you found he often liked to, “If you hadn’t come by, I still would have woken up and taken those guys easily.”

“Are you kidding me?” You exclaimed, gesturing around to the mess, “I had two of those guys out before you were even fully awake, Barnes! Just admit I helped you,”

He was so close to you that you could barely reach out and you would be touching his bare skin. The temptation was strong, stronger than you’d like to admit. It was like he was a magnet and you a compass, and for the life of you, even when you wanted nothing more than to run away from him, you couldn’t stop yourself from being led right back into him.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Bucky muttered, his voice low and making your stomach take a sudden swirl. “I don’t need your help.”

His eyes darted down to your lips, and then lower before returning to your gaze. It was then that you became fully aware of your lack of pants. Your cheeks heated slightly and you felt your stomach go taut from his attention, but you clenched your jaw and held your place.

“Clearly, you do,” You echoed back to him, refusing to back down. After staring off at him for a few more moments, you let out a frustrated groan and stepped back, snapping the tension in the room as you shoved your way to the door.

“Why do I even bother with you?” You gritted, stepping over a body, “I got up in the middle of the night and risked my life to help you and I don’t get so much as a-”

“Thanks,”

Bucky’s voice was so quiet that you almost missed it, but you had heard it. You froze in your tracks, your body going still except for your speeding heart as you slowly turned back around.

“What?” You whispered, unbelieving what he had just said. Bucky shot you a pointed glare, but let out a long sigh, some of the anger draining from his face. He looked tired, so incredibly tired.

“Thank you,” He repeated, the words cutting straight through your anger, “I know I can be difficult, it’s just…I’m not…”

He struggled with the words, his voice no longer flooded with frustration or annoyance. You spent a moment peering at the soldier, taking in the fact that he indeed had slept on the floor and noting the dog tags that hung around his throat.

Bucky Barnes was haunted by his past. So haunted, you guessed, that he was shoving away everyone in his life to make sure nothing bad could happen again. You still were infuriated by him, but you couldn’t say that you hated him.

In fact, you couldn’t begin to think if you ever really did. Or if maybe that hate was just a cover for the growing attraction you felt towards him, for the…

Ridiculous, you scolded yourself.

“It’s okay,” You finally announced, your words softer than you intended them to be, “I get it.”

Somehow, you found yourself offering him a sad, soft smile that made the hard edges of his face soften.

“You’re a lone wolf, I get that.” Your words made his jaw twitch, “And I’m not gonna tell you how to heal. You already know that answer. So, when the time comes that you’re ready to not do all this alone anymore, I’ll be right next door.”

Something changed deep within Bucky’s gaze, something that would have made you stay if you didn’t turn and walk towards the door. As you did, you felt the thumping of your heart. Your words had not just been an offer of help for this Kingpin situation. No, they had been more. An offer of help for anything, and you hadn’t realized you had meant them until they had come out.

Now you were left wondering for the rest of the night when exactly you had stopped hating Bucky Barnes.

And why you had the suspicion that you never hated him at all.

|||

As the dawn broke the next morning, so did your common sense.

No matter how magnetizing Barnes was, you had to keep your distance unless your mission directly required you to get close. You didn’t know how deep your…not hatred…ran, but you weren’t willing to find out. It could compromise this mission, and most dangerous of all, it could compromise Bucky.

You had to keep your head in the game. So, the next week or so was packed with you spending the day actively avoiding Barnes in the same way you had purposely collided with him at first. During the nights, you poured over documents and case files concerning Kingpin. You tracked his movements, hunted down where his men crawled back to after their missions, watched his cover businesses with a close, keen eye.

Kingpin was an intimidating mobster and could rule his forces with an iron fist of fear, but he wasn’t necessarily the brightest businessman. He was good at covering his illegal tracks, but not great. That was why you were able to catch the whispers around the upcoming charity gala a local socialite was hosting.

Word was, Kingpin and his men would be at the gala to finish working out a business deal with an associate. The same business deal, you suspected, that had him lashing out at not just Bucky, but several other known adversaries to his empire across the whole of New York.

So if Kingpin would be there, so would you.

As you finished getting ready for the gala and stood in front of your mirror to make sure everything was perfect, your mind strayed to the super soldier next door. You hadn’t seen him in over a week, not since that night where you saved his life. Even now, his apartment was silent.

You let out a long sigh and adjusted the contours of your dress and felt for the weapons beneath it. The floor-length number was deceiving to anyone with a keen eye, exposing parts of you that would normally hide weapons. Your thigh on your dominant side was almost fully exposed with a slit, and your bodice provided no way to get to a weapon if it was stored there.

You were a professional, though. Where you hid your weapons, no one would see until it was too late.

As you made your way out of your apartment, being sure to take the stairs this time, and then climbed into the ride you had waiting for you outside, your mind played through a million different ways this night could go.

Best case would be you catching wind of whatever business had Kingpin so wound up with no altercations in the meantime. Worst case…well, let’s hope you didn’t have to use those weapons you so painstakingly hid.

After a drive that wasn’t long enough, you clambered out into the star-lit, diamond-encrusted evening. The event hall was elegant as you walked in, decked in lavender and silver and crawling with New York’s most elite. In a crowd like this, you knew it would not be hard to find a man as large as Kingpin.

The longer you spent canvasing the gala, the more your worst case scenario started to play out in your head. As you had feared, Kingpin wasn’t here, not that you could see. Odds were, he sent someone in his place to do the negotiating. Now you had to find some way of finding that-

You gasped as your shoulder bumped right into a firm chest. You had been so busy scanning the room that you hadn’t been looking where you were walking. A warm, calloused hand gripped onto your elbow to keep you stable, and the way the touch made your brain fog should have been an indicator of who this man was.

But you did not think of it until you glanced up, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t…what are you doing here?”

As your gaze connected with Bucky Barnes, you saw the same flash of disbelief and then annoyance run through his crystal blue eyes.

“Are you serious, doll? You can’t even give me one night out without following me?” Bucky muttered lowly, his hand still around your elbow, holding you close.

Your chest skipped at that word, that nickname he had called you, but you ignored it and glared right back up at the man, “You know, and this may come as a shock to you, but not everything in my life revolves around following you,”

Bucky scoffed, tilting his head at you. Suddenly, you were fighting to overcome how stunning he was in the all black suit that he wore. His alluring gaze seemed to draw you in again, and you knew you had to get away from him.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart.” Bucky assured, his tone like pure narcotics to your soul.

You let out a short laugh, “Trust me, I know.”

He shook his head, licking his bottom lip as he held your arm and started pulling you towards the exit, “It’s time for you to go.”

“Hey, you cannot just tell me what to do!” You muttered, pulling your arm from his grasp and coming to an abrupt halt. He gritted his jaw as he turned and looked down to you, but you beat him to the punch.

“If you’re here for the same reason as me, then Kingpin’s men are out here somewhere carrying out a business deal that could be huge. This could be our only chance to stop it.”

“Our?” Bucky repeated, and you stared at him indignantly.

“That’s what you caught from all of that?” You exclaimed, huffing out a breath, “Look, whatever is happening is big. If we don’t stop him, who will?”

“I said before, stay out of this. Go back to Langley and report your mission as a success, and leave me alone. These men are dangerous, don’t make this your fight.” Bucky’s words weren’t as angry as before, there was something in them, something almost desperate.

You held his gaze, taking a step closer, “Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve dealt with plenty of dangerous men.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, almost taunting you as he cocked his head at you.

Your heart was racing, your skin was on fire and he wasn’t even touching you. Maybe leaving was the best idea.

You caught something out of the side of your vision, and looked over towards the dance floor. There you saw one of Kingpin’s associates you’d been tracking all week step out onto the dance floor with a woman you’d never seen before. As he pulled her into a waltz, you knew immediately that this was a business dance, not pleasure.

“There, 11 o’clock,” You whispered, turning your gaze back to Bucky as his gaze flitted towards the direction you gaze. He nodded once.

“That’s them,” He agreed.

“Come on,” You urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the dance floor.

“Woah, woah, I don’t dance,” Bucky protested, but let you pull him nonetheless. You cracked a half-smile as you looked back at Bucky, and you noticed the way something in his gaze shifted at the sight of your smile.

“Well tonight you do.”

As you pulled Bucky out into the slow dance alongside a few dozen other couples, you noticed the way his lips tipped up ever so slightly. The sight of that smile…it made your heart miss more than a few beats.

As the two of you joined the fray, Bucky tugged you into him so swiftly that you let out a gasp. Expertly, he guided one hand to the small of your back and grabbed your hand with the other. In a matter of moments, the two of you were dancing, and you looked back up at the soldier in wonder.

“I thought you said you don’t dance,” You mused. Bucky smiled, then turned his gaze to you.

“I don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t,” He informed.

In that moment, with your hand in his gloved metal one and him smiling down at you like that…it was enough to make you forget anything before this, before now, before him. The two of you danced, and for a moment both of you forgot why you’d joined the dance floor in the first place. Forgotten was business and missions and danger, the only thing left in the world was his hands on you as you danced.

You could hardly breathe as he led you around the dance floor, and you certainly couldn’t take your eyes off of his. You weren’t smiling anymore, but neither was he. You didn’t smile because you knew. In that moment, held in his arms and dancing like the two of you had been practicing this step your entire life, like you had been made to dance together, you knew.

You knew that no matter what unfolded in the days and weeks to come, whatever became of this mission, Bucky Barnes had ruined you. For no longer could you dance with anyone else. Not when you knew this, knew him.

He had ruined you in this moment, and for the first time in your life you understood why the Moon never left its orbit. The Moon was so enthralled with catching even a glimpse of the Sun that it was willing to bear the black of night if that’s what it took to bear the Sun’s rays.

Bucky Barnes had ruined you, and now you could never leave your orbit either.

“Doll, I-”

Whatever Bucky was going to say died as the two of you suddenly found yourselves dancing right beside Kingpin’s associate. That was the snap to reality that you needed, and you forced out1 the outrageous thoughts that had been plaguing you.

Thinking quickly, you pulled out of Bucky’s hold and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder. This position let you inconspicuously listen in to what it was that the associate was saying to his business partner, and Bucky quickly caught on as he brought his hands to your waist and held you close.

You’d like to say that eavesdropping was the only reason you did this, but you’d be lying. Being held by him set your skin on fire, as if you’d been touched by lightning and survived. You needed this, you craved this, with his hands on your waist and his breath on your neck. But you had to focus right now, you had to hear what the associate was saying.

You forced your brain to switch into operative mode, forcing yourself to focus only on the conversation beside you.

“-depending on how much your boss is willing to pay. Timeliness like that is going to be extra,” The woman spoke.

“Money is not an issue, trust me,” The associate assured.

“Well then,” The woman responded, sounding pleased, “1.5 for the weapons and an extra 1 for the time bump. Do we have a deal?”

There was a pause, a consideration. Your heart sped up more than it was already racing. Weapons. An arms deal that Kingpin would no doubt use to spread onto the streets, to put a tighter noose around the neighborhoods he already kept under his thumb. And over two million dollars just for weapons? This was the biggest deal you’d seen up close. This could plunge New York into a deeper chaos than it already was.

“An even 2 and we have a deal,” The associate managed out, his tone taut.

“Then I will see you next week. And your boss had better be there, or the deal’s off,” The woman spoke with finality. And then there was silence, nothing but the waltz and the normal clamor of the gala.

Pulling back, you turned your gaze up to Bucky, whose gaze burned down on you with a certain clarity to his blue eyes.

“Got it?” He mumbled. You nodded, your eyes wide with excitement.

Smoothly, Bucky led you right off of the dance floor, offering his arm to you. You took it, making sure the two of you were walking in the direction opposite the associate. When you were mixed enough in the crowd, you spoke quietly, your tone flooded with vigor.

“Sometime next week, two million for an arms deal,” You informed. Bucky let out a sharp breath, his gaze forward just like yours as the two of you walked.

“A trade that big…”

“I know,” You whispered in response, your heart thundering. You stopped walking, pulling Bucky to look at you, “I could figure out a day, time, and place. Then, together we could crash their party with an army of SWAT and CIA hiding out nearby. We could keep two mill worth of weapons off the streets and put away Kingpin for a while.”

Bucky turned his gaze from you, his jaw clenched. You furrowed your brows up at the man, you were so sure he would be all over this mission. So why did he have that look in his eye?

Without looking down at you, Bucky finally spoke, “Like I said, there’s no we. I’m taking you back to the apartment and that’s where you’re gonna stay until this is over.”

You flinched back, so struck by his sudden change in demeanor that a shot of pain went through your chest. How could he be so cold after what happened on that dance floor? You couldn’t have been the only one to feel that…

“I don’t understand,” You breathed, indignation rising in your chest, “Don’t you want to take out Kingpin?”

“I do,” Bucky responded, finally looking down to you with that cold, shut-off look in his gaze that you knew all too well, “But not with you. You’re going home.”

He let go of you and turned, walking towards the exit of the gala. Sputtering, you followed after him, storming behind him into the brisk night.

“Are you kidding me?” You exclaimed as he gave the valet his ticket and they ran off to grab his car, “What happened to working together? This is my mission, Bucky and I’m not just going to give up on it.”

Bucky turned on you, his gaze boiling with something that wasn’t quiet anger, but felt a lot like it, “I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. Stay out of this one.”

You could see the valet bringing up the car and you knew that once we were inside, he would shut down. This was your last chance.

“Whether you want my help or not, you are getting it! It is my mission to keep you safe, Bucky and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Bucky shook his head at you, muttering something about you being impossible as he caught his keys as the valet threw them to him. He sauntered up to the car, opening the door and gesturing for you to get in. Cheeks hot with anger, you stormed up and got in the car, adjusting your dress as he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.

Just as you predicted, the ride back to the apartments was silent.

You knew what he was doing. He thought this was too dangerous, and he didn’t want you involved. That night in his apartment, you had seen how guarded he was to keep people from getting close. That dance, that had pushed the line and now he was not going to let you get into this mission. Frustration boiled up within you, and halfway through the drive, you finally exploded.

“This is bullshit!” You suddenly exclaimed, and you caught the way Bucky’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“We’re not doing this,” He muttered.

“Like hell we aren’t,” You fired back, turning to look at him even if he kept his eyes on the road, “I know why you’re banning me from this mission and I get it, I do. But-”

“You don’t know anything,” Bucky cut in, his voice low and almost menacing.

You laughed without humor, slowly losing your control, “You are impossible, impossible!”

Turning forward again, you raked your hands through your hair, “You are so difficult. One day you’re gonna need someone, and if you keep shoving people that care for you away, you’re gonna have no one!”

The car screeched to a sudden halt.

Your stomach dropped as you looked around the surprisingly quiet street, your heart thudding.

“What are you-”

“Get out.” Bucky gritted.

Your heart sank instantly. You looked over at him in astonishment, your eyes wide, “What?”

“Get. Out.” Bucky repeated, not even looking at you, “Walk home.”

“That’s like four miles from here, and I’m in heels!” You exclaimed. Bucky’s jaw tightened.

“You’re CIA, you’ll figure it out.”

Your heart slammed in your chest, and the words you had spit at him moments prior burned in your chest. You had crossed a line, and you knew it. You felt it, “Bucky, I’m sorry. I–”

“Get out of this car before I pull you out myself.” There was hurt in his eyes, and it made you want to die.

You had both said things to hurt the other, had both wounded each other.

As you stepped out of the car and into the night air, you realized that people could only be hurt by someone who held at least a part of them. And as you shut your door and Bucky peeled away into the night, you felt a piece of you go with him.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head and pulled out your phone. You were already searching up a ride to take you to your apartment, but you walked as you did it. The cool night air was refreshing in a way, and you let out a long sigh, putting your phone down and looking around at the near-empty streets.

What had gone so wrong?

And so, you decided against calling a ride. Instead, you turned into a nearby, warm-looking bar and sat, drinking away your sorrows and working up the courage to make the long, lonely walk home.

|||

You were within a half-mile of your apartment, and you still hadn’t sorted through the storm in your mind.

All you knew was that this was more than a mission, and it had been for a long while.

“I gave you one job, and you couldn’t even accomplish it. One simple job.”

Your feet stalled, your head suddenly going quiet. You knew that voice. And, as you took one step closer to the alley that it poured out of and peered inside, what you saw confirmed it.

Kingpin.

In your muddled haze of a walk, you’d forgotten that one of Kingpin’s cover businesses was on the way back to your apartment. Now here you were, just around the corner of the mobster himself. Your eyes took in his massive frame hovering over a quivering man. A man that looked awfully familiar…

You managed to stifle your gasp as you recognized it as the man that gave Kingpin up to you and Bucky when he’d broken into Bucky’s apartment.

“I’m s-sorry boss, there was two of ‘em. I was lucky to make it out alive,” The man stammered. Kingpin hummed.

“You’re right, that is lucky,” He grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him off of his feet, easily holding him in mid-air, “So tell me, what exactly did you give up to them to save yourself?”

“N-nothing boss! I would never give you or the operation up, never! I’m loyal,” The man pleaded.

You should go. You should hurry past and keep walking. But you just couldn’t, not when the man himself was standing right there and he might give up information on the arms deal you’d caught wind of.

Kingpin set the man back onto his feet and smoothed out the man’s collar, “I believe you.”

The man nearly sobbed, “Thank you boss, thank you.”

“But just an insurance policy,” Kingpin said, then motioned with one hand into the darkness of the alley. Two burly guards stepped forward, armed to the teeth.

“Kill him,” Kingpin spoke smoothly, then stepped back and held his hands together as the man begged and pleaded. Your heart thundered in your chest as the gunshot from one of the guards into the man rang through you, making you flinch slightly.

When the job was done, Kingpin walked up to his guards, “Filch reported back from the gala. Said he got the deal moved up to next Saturday. Make sure the streets stay quiet. We can’t let it get out.”

“Sure thing, boss,” The guard nodded.

Next Saturday, that gave you eight days. A smile tugged onto your lips and you were just about to move past the alley when a set of burly, vile hands closed around your shoulders.

“Well look what we’ve got here, a little birdie listening in.” The man purred, and your stomach sank to the floor.

You had to get away, and you had to do it now. You thrashed against the man’s hold, slipping your hand towards where you’d hidden a small but lethal knife. Kingpin couldn’t know that you’d heard. He couldn’t know. Your hand was inches from the knife when another one of Kingpin’s men came around the corner and grabbed your wrists in a bruising grip, yanking them in front of you.

“Hello there, pretty bird,” He greeted, and together the two men began to drag you into the alley. Sudden, blinding panic slammed into you and you knew instantly what you had to do.

If you pulled a weapon and beat the shit out of these guys like you knew you could, Kingpin would know you’d heard him and were someone to be worried about. Your best chance at making it out of this not only alive, but with the deal still set for next Saturday, you had to play dumb. You had to be a regular citizen, an innocent bystander scared of getting mugged.

And so you did.

You turned your anger into fear that wasn’t totally falsified, and you thrashed in the men’s grips.

“Please, let me go!” You begged, “You can take my money, my wallet, anything you want! Please!”

They’d gotten you into the alley by now, and darkness wrapped around you as Kingpin himself heard your cries. He paused, looking back at you and tilting his head curiously. Your pulse thundered so fast that you thought you’d faint.

“What’s going on here?” Kingpin asked, slowly walking up to you, towering over you even when he was a few feet away.

“Caught this pretty lady walking by, looking like she wanted to come say hello,” One of the men presented.

The smell of the alley nearly made you gag, the fabric of your dress already soiled at the bottom from the puddles of unknown liquid. Real fear was pulsing through you, and you let it. You shoved down the instincts drilled into you from your time in the CIA and let yourself be a citizen, a bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Please, you can have my jewelry, my money, anything you want,” You insisted, your eyes filling with tears that weren’t entirely fake.

“We’re not muggers,” Kingpin responded, his tone curious as he took you in, “What are you doing out here all alone, little bird?”

“My Uber canceled on me and I had to walk home from my party, please I don’t know what’s going on!” You trembled out.

Kingpin studied you closely, then tilted his head and said to the men holding you, “Search her,”

Panic was constricting your chest, and you shivered as the men began patting you down. You had to clench your firsts to keep from breaking one of their noses when one stayed a little longer than necessary on your breasts. There was a small breath of relief when they both stood back, having found none of your hidden weapons.

“She’s clean.”

Kingpin cracked a half smile and reached forward. You flinched back as much as the men holding you would allow, but that wasn’t enough. He grabbed ahold of one of your fists, raising it up to inspect. He looked back up at you, his gaze amused.

“You’re angry,” Kingpin mused, a smile ticking onto his lips, “You’ve got more fight in you then you’re letting on.” “Well ladies with fight who are dragged into alleyways don’t usually last long, do they?” You managed out, your eyes daring to meet his. To your surprise, he laughed.

“Let her go, boys. We’ve terrified her enough.”

You almost sobbed in relief when the men holding you let go. It worked. He was letting you go, he didn’t know. He didn’t-

That’s when you made your first and only mistake. You let your eyes travel the alley for a moment. But that moment, no matter how short, was enough. You saw the dead body of the man who had just been shot.

And Kingpin knew it.

He glanced back towards the body, then slowly back to you.

“Oh little bird, why’d you have to go and do that? I was really starting to like you,” He sighed.

Terror like you’d never known gripped you suddenly. Dread, real and cold pierced into your belly. You began to shake your head.

“No, no please I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t-”

His massive hand gripped your jaw, cutting you off. You trembled terribly as he held your jaw and just peered at you, seeming to test you.

Finally, finally, he said, “I believe you.”

You sighed, but barely had a moment to breathe when he repeated those damned words from before, “But just as an insurance policy,”

He stepped back, letting you go and then gesturing to his men.

“Rough her up. Don’t kill her, just show her what’s gonna happen if she does decide to tell,” Kingpin stepped back into the dark alley, a smile starting on his lips, “Which I don’t think she will. Good night, little bird.”

“Wait,” You shook, glanced around at his goons who now surrounded you, “Wait, please,”

You had taken beatings before, you could do this. You could do this.

“Boss’s orders,” One shrugged, then crashed his fist into your jaw.

Then the onslaught began, and you let it happen. You let them beat you, let them kick you so hard you thought ribs cracked, let them bust your lip and bruise your cheek. You could have them all dead in moments, but you let it happen. You’d made it this far without blowing the mission to hell, you couldn’t give yourself away now.

So you stayed there on the alley floor, and you took it.

|||

By the time you finally made it to your apartment and stumbled up the stairs, you could barely stand.

Your head was spinning as you struggled to get your keys into the door. By the time you finally did, you shouldered your way in and didn’t even bother closing the door. You could barely think, barely see, barely feel anything besides the pain.

You’d taken worse beatings, sure, but it didn’t make this one hurt any less. Your breathing was labored as each breath made shooting pain pierce through your rib cage. Your dress was ripped and bloody and covered in filth from the alley floor. All you could taste was blood from the lip one of the men had split, and you were sure that if anyone were to see you, you’d look more like a walking corpse than anything else.

You stumbled over to your kitchen bar, gripping onto the surface for stability as you dropped your phone and clutch onto it. Your legs trembled from the effort of standing, and you didn’t even bother to switch the light on considering that would require more walking. All you wanted was to gather your strength, make it to your bathroom, and get all of this blood off of you.

Then you’d sleep for as long as your body would let you.

At least, that was the plan until there was a knock on your slightly open door.

You didn’t even have the strength to speak as the person pushed open the door and walked a few steps into your dark, silent apartment.

“Y/N, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but…” Bucky paused, and the sound of his voice nearly made you sob. More than anything, more than even a bath or sleep, you wanted him to hold you. You were too tired to question the impulse.

Bucky sighed, and you could practically hear the indecision in his tone, “I turned around as soon as I forced you out, but I couldn’t find you. I’ve been pacing the entire night waiting for you to come back. I overreacted and…and I’m sorry.”

He’d gone back for you. He’d looked for you.

Your heart burned, and tears you didn’t fight worsened your already blurry vision.

You wanted to turn and run to him, you wanted to hold him and tell him that it was alright, that you were sorry too. But you couldn’t. If you let go of this counter, you’d collapse, and you knew that if you hit this floor, you weren’t getting back up tonight.

“You were just trying to help me, and I have such a hard time taking help and an even harder time letting people in and,” Bucky stopped with a sigh, cutting off his rant, “I’m stumbling through this, could you please just turn around and say something?”

If you weren’t on the brink of passing out, you’d laugh.

Bucky let out a frustrated huff, “I’m apologizing here, are you even listening?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but blood came out instead and you let out a short cough.

“Fine,” Bucky gritted, clearly trying to hold back his emotion, “I’ll just…leave you be.”

Panic disrupted your pain and you managed to brace your weight with one hand on the counter and turn towards where Bucky was already walking towards your door. He couldn’t leave. You needed him.

“Bucky,” You strangled out, your voice exhausted, “W-wait,”

Bucky froze, his gaze turning back to you with his brows furrowed. That’s when the light of the hallway broke upon you, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood and dirt and bruises.

You heard him say your name like a vow, but then the world began to spin and you were collapsing.

You barely felt the thud of the floor as you slammed against it, your body bloody and broken and giving up for the night. You heard the pounding of footsteps, felt the floor tremble as Bucky slid to his knees beside you. His hands were so gentle, so heart-breakingly gentle, as he lightly touched your bruised cheek. You watched through a blurred gaze as he kneeled over you, his jaw tight and his eyes wild.

“You’re okay, doll, I got you. I got you,” Bucky promised, ever so tenderly pulling your broken body into his lap. He cradled your head with his hand, his eyes sweeping over you to take in the extent of your injuries.

“Shit,” He swore, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

“Not your fault,” You managed, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Bucky shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you saw his muscles ticking. His breaths were shallow as he caressed a finger down your cheek before gathering you in his arms as gently as he could. You groaned in pain as he stood, holding you close to himself with ease. But even despite the pain, he was holding you, and that was something you never thought you’d feel again.

“I know baby, I know,” He whispered, his words soothing you through the pain. He carried you out of your apartment, careful to close the door before carrying you into his place. You felt your consciousness slipping now that you were safe. You actually had never felt safer than when you were here, in his arms.

Bucky set you down on his counter, the cool material taking the edge off of the aching of your body. Before he could clean you up or bandage anything, Bucky stood close to you, his hand staying on your cheek. You leaned into it, knowing you wouldn’t have if you weren’t half-asleep right now.

“Doll, I need you to look at me,” Bucky urged, a cold, ferocious tone to his voice that you didn’t think was for you. You managed to pry your eyes open and clash your gaze with his. In it was a cold fury, “Who did this to you?”

“Kingpin’s men,” You mumbled, and Bucky stiffened, “I caught…word of the deal, but he…he saw me. Only way to…to not blow it was to…to-”

“Play the bystander,” Bucky finished for you, and you nodded. Bucky shook his head, “You stupid, brave girl.”

You managed a smile, but the movement pulled at the split in your lip and made you wince.

“You can sleep now, doll. I’ve got you,” Bucky whispered. You nodded, letting your eyes flutter closed. You felt his hand caress your cheek, his fingers lingering on your skin.

Then, in the near dark of sleep, Bucky let out a defeated sigh.

“Oh darling,” He sighed, then there was a press of a kiss to your brow and whispered words against your skin, “How the hell am I supposed to let you go when this is all over?”

|||

“Bucky?”

Your voice rang through Bucky’s apartment, amusement heavy in your tone. He hummed in response, his back to you as he slaved away at his small stove.

Before you already sat a fresh coffee, eggs, toast, and fruit. You couldn’t help but smile. The movement pulled at your healing lip, but it didn’t hurt anymore.

“It’s been two days. You don’t have to keep apologizing,” You called out. Bucky turned around to you, holding a pan in one hand.

“I’m just making breakfast,” He tried, but you just raised an eyebrow at him. With a sigh, Bucky set down the pan, and walked over to the counter, settling his hands down on the other side of where you sat.

“Y/N, you didn’t see what I did that night,” Bucky mumbled, not meeting your gaze, “If you could have seen how you looked, all that blood…”

Your heart strung in your chest. You slept nearly an entire day after the incident, and then spent the next day being fussed over by Bucky. You had a few bruised ribs and some nasty shiners, but nothing serious luckily. In all that time, the two of you had avoided the subject of that night besides the both of you apologizing to the other profusely.

“Buck, listen to me,” You whispered, his pained gaze finally rising to yours, “That was a heated night, we both did and said things we didn’t mean. We apologized for that, it’s behind us. But what happened to me in that alley,”

You paused hesitating only a moment before you threw caution to the wind and reached across the counter, grabbing his hand. His metal hand. His eyes widened a fraction and something changed in his gaze, something that made your heart miss a step.

“What happened to me in that alley was not your fault. That one was all me,” You insisted. Bucky squeezed your hand, the cool metal soothing your skin.

“But if I had just kept you in the car, if I hadn’t overreacted like that-”

“Then we wouldn’t know when the deal was going down,” You reasoned, “And if I were you, I would have kicked me out of the car too.”

Bucky let out a low laugh, shaking his head. His thumb ran across your skin absentmindedly, making your mind muddle, “Fine.”

You raised your eyebrows, a smile dancing on your lips “So does that mean we can move on? Not that I mind you making me breakfast.”

“Don’t push your luck, doll,” Bucky warned, a smile tugging at his lips. Letting go of your hand, he walked around the counter and into his living room, walking over to his coffee table where two files sat. You swiveled around on the barstool, watching him curiously.

As if he felt your gaze, Bucky spoke again, “While you were getting your beauty sleep in, I found where the arms deal is going down. So, if we’re gonna crash that party, we better start planning.”

A thrill went through you, and you sat up straighter. You watched as he turned and walked back to you with the files in his hand. Sure enough, he handed you one of them. You opened the front, seeing the page filled with information on Kingpin, his empire, and the arms deal. You looked up at Bucky with wide, bright eyes.

“We?” You taunted. Bucky rolled his eyes, grabbing the front of your file.

“I can still take this back,” He warned. You smiled, pulling it back towards you and out of his grasp. His grumpy demeanor didn’t scare you, nor did it frustrate you like it did before.

“Too late,” You said sweetly, looking up at him as he stood before your seated frame. He shook his head at you, a half smile he tried to hide on his lips as he stepped back.

“Alright CIA,” Bucky announced, flipping open his file, “Show me what you got.”

|||

It was Saturday night, and the air was thick with anticipation.

You and Bucky sat in his car, staking out the trainyard where the arms deal was set to be going down. The walkie set before you crackled to life.

“How’s it looking?” Sam Wilson asked. You smiled at the sound of his voice, happy to have him here. Once you briefed him on what was happening, he just had to have a piece of it.

“Nothing so far,” You replied, your eyes sweeping across the darkened yard packed with parked trains, “We’ve still got some time, though.”

“I have RedWing watching from the skies, so I’ll keep you posted,” Sam informed.

“I hate that damn thing,” Bucky grumbled. You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.

“What was that?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” You answered, putting your hand over Bucky’s mouth just as he’s about to repeat his statement, “Tell RedWing we said thank you!”

As soon as the radio went quiet, Bucky pulled off your hand, staring at you in indignation.

“You are getting too comfortable with me,” He gritted. You shrugged, trying not to look too smug.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” You quipped. Bucky was grumbling under his breath about something, and you were just about to ask him about it when something caught your eye in the distance. You sat up, pointing towards the left side of the yard.

“There,” You announced, your tone serious, “You see it?”

Bucky leaned forward, following the direction you were pointing. He nodded, reaching forward and grabbing the walkie.

“Sam, two SUVs rolling in. You got ‘em?”

“I see them,” Sam responded, his voice all business, “Looks like it's the dealers. The weapons are probably stashed in one of the train cars somewhere. I’ll run a scan, you guys get out there.”

“Will do, comms going in,” Bucky replied.

The two of you slipped the comm links into your ears, checking your respective guns before exiting the car. You both jogged towards the first train car parked in the massive yard, getting cover as fast as possible.

“Be advised, the dealers have associates fanning out through the trainyard.” Sam’s voice crackled through the comm.

“Copy,” You spoke softly, your back pressed against the train, “We’ll take care of it.”

Looking over to Bucky, you nodded once at him before he led the way, gun raised as he cleared the corner. The two of you worked systematically through the yard. Sweeping out slowly in search of the associates. This place was a maze, making it ideal for deals like this. If you wanted a chance at taking the op down, you had to get these guards out.

You and Bucky paused at a break in the train, and this time you led as you inched forward and checked the corner. Seeing a guard standing watch at the corner, you pulled back and looked at Bucky. Without even having to say a word, you and Bucky worked together as if you’d been doing it for years.

You crouched down, holstering your gun and slipping out a knife. You took a beat to breathe before you slid forward, around the corner. The noise made the guard swivel her head, but she made the mistake of not looking down. With the deadly sharp knife, you made it to her feet before she noticed you.

Then, you whistled. A quiet, simple tone. With furrowed brows, she looked down to see you, crouched by her feet with a knife. Her brows rose and she opened her mouth to alert someone, but Bucky was on her, his hand around her mouth. That’s when you struck, slicing the tendon at the back of her heel.

Bucky’s hand muffled her scream as she dropped, and you stood in response, landing a killer blow across her temple and knocking her out. When the scuffle was over, the trainyard was silent. With a breathless smile, you looked up to Bucky.

“We make a pretty good team,” You whispered. He shot you a pointed look.

“I don’t do teams.”

You followed him as walked past the downed guard, a smirk tugging at your lips, “That’s right. You’re a lone wolf.”

Bucky stopped in his gait, nearly making you run into him. He turned and shot a glare at you, one that let you know you were getting under his skin. You held your hands up, showing him you were backing off the subject. He shook his head at you and kept walking.

“You do make a good team,” Sam intervened, making you smile triumphantly.

“Sam, I swear-” Bucky began, but you darted up, covering his mouth with your hand to silence him. He saw the guard rounding the corner a second after you did. Luckily, the guard hadn’t seen you.

Not yet, at least.

Thinking quickly, Bucky grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up into the opening of a nearby, darkened train car. You landed inside silently and turned, waiting for Bucky who jumped in a second later. Swiveling his gaze around, he noticed the same problem you did.

The car was full of weapons. The weapons.

Not only did this endanger the both of you should the deal start soon, it also left little room for you to hide. Bucky solved that issue swiftly as he turned and urged you against a stack of explosives, his body pressed against yours instantly, caging you into the darkness and making sure the two of you were invisible.

Or, you realized with a start, making sure you were invisible.

You could see just far enough to look up and see Bucky peering down at you. His body was against yours, and his face was so near to yours that you could move half an inch and your lips would be touching. His pine and whiskey scent washed over you, intoxicating you, making you forget for a moment where you were.

Bucky seemed to do the same as his hand moved from beside your hand and he swept a thumb against your cheek. Lightning scattered across your skin where he touched, and you nearly forgot how to breathe.

You wanted to kiss him. You needed to kiss him.

Bucky’s eyes were darting between your lips and gaze, and your heart thundered in your chest. You were sure he could feel it with your bodies pressed so tightly together, and the uptick of the edge of his lips told you he did. Your lips itched in anticipation, burning even as they were kept apart from his.

Bucky’s hand moved from your cheek down to rest against your throat, just as it did that day in your kitchen all those months ago. You knew that he did it to get a better feel of your pulse, and your cheeks heated in response. His lips were nearly touching yours and his hand was on your neck and you thought you might faint.

He was totally in control of you, and he knew it.

With a half-smirk that made your knees nearly buckle he whispered, “Do I always make you this nervous?”

You wanted to banter back, to shoot a petty insult at him, but you couldn’t think of anything but his lips on yours. You wanted it so badly, and you could tell Bucky did too because the hand that wasn’t on your throat was clenched tightly, as if he was restraining himself. You nudged your chin up a fraction, stopping just short of his lips, leaving the decision up to him. Bucky moved, and when his lips were almost touching yours-

“I found the weapons,” Sam’s voice poured out of RedWing, who sat hovering right in front of you and Bucky.

You and Bucky jolted apart, the coast clear from the guard and the both of you coughing or clearing your throat.

“What?” Sam asked, his tone taunting, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Sam, if RedWing doesn’t fly away I’m gonna break it,” Bucky threatened lowly.

“What, are you mad that he’s c-”

Bucky lunged for RedWing, who turned and flew away just in time. You couldn’t help but smile, struggling to hold in your laughter as Bucky turned and shook his head, clearly wound up. When he saw the look on his face he pointed a finger in your direction.

“Not a word,” He commanded.

“Yes sir,” You teased, shoving his shoulder lightly as you passed him to inspect the weapons. What you missed as you peered into the weapons crates was the way Bucky smiled at you as you passed, a real smile unlike any of the one’s he’d given since the 40’s.

“Look at all this,” You breathed, inspecting box after box of weapons of all sorts.

“And there’s at least six more cars just like it,” Sam informed over the comm. You shook your head, picking up a rather nasty looking bomb.

“We better get a move on, Kingpin’s bound to be here at any moment.” Your words caught Bucky’s attention and he nodded, walking towards the opening of the train car and hopping out. Wordlessly, you followed. As you jumped out of the car, Bucky grabbed you by the hips and slowed down your descent, setting you safely on the ground. His hands burned on your waist, and that tension from before returned in full force.

“I had that, you know,” You informed, raising a brow at him. He just smirked.

“I know.”

Then let you go and walk away, finally letting you take in a breath. As you followed him, you shook your head.

This was going to be a long night.

|||

It took twenty more minutes for you and Bucky to clear out the guards without any of them reporting back a disturbance.

And, right on time, Kingpin and his men showed up

You watched as the massive, hulking man sauntered up to the center of the trainyard where the dealers, led by the woman from the gala, stood waiting. You stood pressed against a train nearby with Bucky against the one across from you. Overhead, Sam was waiting for your signal to move in.

It would be your job to make sure the SWAT team rolling up outside had enough time to infiltrate and secure the weapons that they could. In the meantime, you, Bucky, and Sam would ambush the deal, taking out as many operatives as you could and securing Kingpin and the Dealer.

But right now, your mind wasn’t on the plan. No, you were stuck staring at the goons who waltzed up with Kingpin. You recognized three of them as the men who pummeled you that night after the gala. Noticing your clenched jaw, Bucky followed your gaze to the men. Understanding broke over him and you glanced over to see a certain fury flood his gaze. He looked back to you, his gaze clashing with yours.

“Which ones?” Was all he whispered, low enough so he couldn’t be heard by anyone except for the comm link. You heard the edge in his voice, and maybe it was wrong, but you loved it.

“The two on his right and second to the left.”

Bucky nodded, staring down the three men. He looked back to you, “You want them?”

A smile ghosted your lips. You could see the restraint in the way his shoulders were held tensely and the whitening of his knuckles on his gun. He wanted them, but he wanted you to have the choice first.

And you fell in love, right there. It began with the dance, but it was done now. There was no going back.

“Share?” You offered, and Bucky’s lips tipped up in a smile.

The two of you turned your attention back to the deal, straining enough to hear the conversation flowing from Kingpin and the Dealer who met in the middle.

“I’m not seeing my weapons,” Kingpin noted, his hands clasped before him. The woman smiled.

“The money first. Then you’ll get your weapons.”

Your hands tightened around your gun, waiting for Kingpin’s next move. He surveyed the Dealer before nodding, turning back to his man and motioning. That was it, this was your chance.

“Now,” You whispered, and instantly the sound of bullets from somewhere to the right blasted through the air.

Sam’s distraction.

The Dealer and Kingpin snapped their gazes towards the sound.

“What the hell-”

That’s when you and Bucky swept in, guns raised and bullets flying before the group knew what was happening. Chaos broke out, but every time someone strayed from the center to flee into the trains, Sam was there to guide them back.

The scene was a flurry of bullets and knives, of yelling and screams, but in the end it was you and Bucky who were left standing amongst the group of downed guards. Of course, there were a few left standing besides Kingpin and the Dealer, one of which happened to be one of the men who beat the shit out of you after the gala.

You did not miss how one of the other men who’d beat you wasn’t just unconscious nearby, but his neck was twisted at a wrong angle with Bucky standing nearby. The last of three was lying somewhere in the mess, shot and bleeding out.

Silence settled over the scene as Sam slammed down on the top of one of the train cars, gun raised. Bucky stood by the Dealer, and you by Kingpin. The two criminals stood silently, their hands raised in submission.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” You announced, keeping your gun pointed at Kingpin. He snapped his gaze to you, and surprise flickered through it followed by a sort of…admiration that made your skin crawl, “A SWAT team is closing in on the weapons now, so the two of you are going to call off anyone else you have stationed and come with us, without a fight preferably.”

“Little bird,” Kingpin greeted, making your pulse spike. You didn’t want to look at him, but you did anyway, and you hated the way you shook as you did, “It’s not often I’m surprised, but I gotta say, you’ve got me speechless here.”

You gritted your teeth, but it was Bucky who called out “Clearly not speechless enough,”

Kingpin laughed, seeming almost at ease. He started to lower his hands and you took a step closer, your gun held strong before you.

“Keep your hands where I can see them!” You ordered.

“Okay, okay,” Kingpin complied, raising his hands up, “But I just want to say, you really shoulda thought this out more.”

You furrowed your brows, “Wh-”

You couldn’t even get the words out when three of the nearby train car doors slid open, and guards poured out. Your heart shot into your throat, and you didn’t even have the chance to shoot when twenty guns were pointed at you and twenty more at Bucky. You shot a nervous glance towards Bucky, who shared the same look.

“Sam, go,” You whispered, and he flew off without another word. He needed to get the SWAT team in here now, or you and Bucky wouldn’t make it long. On the bidding of Kingpin’s army, you and Bucky set your guns down slowly.

“Alright,” Kingpin announced, sighing as if this were just another Saturday night, “Now here’s what’s really gonna happen.��

He walked up to you, and off to the side you saw Bucky immediately lunge forward towards him. He couldn’t make it far before Kingpin pulled out a gun of his own and pointed it at your head.

Bucky froze.

“Leave her alone,” Bucky ordered, his voice dark and menacing.

“Now it’s getting fun,” Kingpin mused, ignoring Bucky completely and stepping closer to you. You clenched your fists to hide the way they shook.

“You’re gonna hop up to this train car here and get my weapons out, make sure they’re what I wanted. Then, you’re gonna call off the SWAT team, and we’re gonna walk out of here,” Kingpin said simply.

“Not happening,” You gritted out.

“Funny, I don’t remember giving you a choice,” Kingpin sighed before grabbing your arm and looking to the dealer, “Which one has the weapons?”

She smirked, pointed at the train car nearby Bucky. It was torture to be dragged past him and not be able to touch him. Not for lack of trying, either. As you went by, he made a break for you, shouting your name. It took eight men to restrain him.

Eight men, that’s how many it took to hold him steady.

And, you figured he was holding back since there was a gun to your head.

“Oh, and package the soldier up. I want to have a few…words with him later.” Kingpin ordered, and panic blinded you. You reared back helplessly, struggling against his iron grip as you had to watch the men try to subdue Bucky and get him into handcuffs.

Your panicked gaze met his, and all you could do was pray Sam was close with the SWAT team. You couldn’t rely on that, though. Kingpin was going to kill you and then Bucky.

You could die, so long as Bucky didn’t.

A plan began to spin in your head as Kingpin shoved you up into the train car.

“Now, grab a gun from in there and show it to me,” Kingpin ordered, but then gave you a knowing smile, “And don’t try anything, or I’ll have a bullet in your boyfriend’s head.”

“On our way!” Sam called through the comm, but you were running out of time. The men were already hauling away Bucky, and you had to act fast.

Turning into the dark train car full of weapons, you tried to lift a box and pretended to fail. Turning to look down at Kingpin, who still stood on the ground, you gritted, “I can’t get it. It’s too heavy.”

Maybe it was his built-in trust of you from your encounter that night after the gala, or maybe it was because he thought you were under too much emotional duress, but he believed you.

He bought it, and he hauled himself into the train car for everyone to see.

“You better not be-”

Before he could speak again or anyone could react, you’d pulled the bomb you picked earlier off of your belt and pulled the pick. Gasps and shouts rang out through the yard as you held the live explosive in your hand and made sure you stood between Kingpin and the exit of the train car.

“Y/N NO!” Bucky shouted, his voice cracking. With a bare pull of his arms, the cuffs on his wrists snapped and he made a move for you.

A handful of guns were pressed into Bucky’s head, stopping him cold. In response, you held the motion-induced explosive tighter and pushed it further towards Kingpin, who had backed as far as he could against a stack of crates. Terror was clear across his face, which brought a sick sort of delight.

“You shoot him, and I drop it,” You announced, and once again the yard plunged into silence.

Anyone who could see the situation knew you had the upper hand. If anyone killed you, the bomb would hit the ground and kill Kingpin. If Kingpin tried anything on you, you’d drop the bomb and kill the both of you. You were locked in a stalemate, and now you were going to win.

“Now, put your guns down.” Your voice rang through the trainyard, but no one acted. You lifted your brows and nodded, turning your head towards Kingpin. Panic flared in his eyes and he shouted, “GUNS DOWN! Put your damn guns down!”

You turned your head and watched as everyone did as they were told. Your eyes snagged on Bucky, who had a desperate look on his face. He shook his head, but you ignored his silent pleas.

“You, the Dealer and all your forces are going to stand down. You’re going to wait patiently for SWAT to get here,” You lifted your chin, “Or I’ll drop this and we both go.”

“You wouldn’t,” Kingpin stuttered.

“You really want to call my bluff? Go ahead, end your criminal empire in one moment of stupidity,” You dared.

Kingpin took a moment to survey your gaze before he shook his head, “You’re crazy.”

You didn’t miss a beat.

“The things you do for love.”

That’s when you heard the rustling of gear and looked over to see the SWAT team storming in, guns raised and shouting at the Dealer and all of the assorted criminals throughout the yard. Taking in a trembling breath, you looked back at Kingpin.

“Game over, little bird,” You lifted your chin, and Kingpin’s eyes flared.

“This isn’t over,” He assured.

“Sure it isn’t,” You replied easily. Well, as easily as you could with a live bomb in your grasp.

You heard the clanging of the train car and looked over to see Bucky inside, his eyes deadly and his jaw clenched tightly as he grabbed Kingpin.

“Out,” Bucky growled, throwing him to the ground outside. Officers were on him instantly, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention, instead, he was on you.

“Bucky, stay-” You warned with a trembling voice, stepping back to keep the bomb from him. Bucky wasn’t listening to you, though, He cut you off and cupped your cheeks.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could have died!” Bucky nearly shouted, but you didn’t miss the way his voice shook.

“He was going to take you, and I couldn’t let him do that,” You whispered, tears gathering in your eyes.

“So you pulled a bomb on him?” Bucky pushed. A tear slipped down your cheek and Bucky wiped it away, shaking his head at you, “Don’t ever do that again, don’t ever risk your life like that for me again.”

“No promises.” Your voice was trembling badly, and your hand was clenched so tightly around the bomb that your fingers hurt, “Bucky, I’m scared.”

You heard Sam call for a bomb squad in the distance, but you didn’t tear your gaze from Bucky. He pressed his forehead to yours, “I know, baby. But you’re gonna be alright.”

“What if I drop it?” You whispered, only allowing your fear to be heard and seen from Bucky.

“You’re not gonna drop it,” Bucky assured, reaching forward and holding the explosive over your hand.

Buck, don’t-”

He held fast, closing both of his hands around yours and the bomb, “You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

“Sam, how long on that bomb squad?” You called out, another rogue tear burning down your cheek.

“They should be here any minute.” Sam’s reply made the tension in your chest ease slightly, and as if on command, the bomb squad came running up to the train car.

Bucky’s hands were solid around yours, and his gaze was unflinching and unafraid. He had you. That thought made your heart rate slow. He had you, he had you.

“So what do you have here?” A lady asked, jogging up and hopping into the train car, looking down at the explosive. She hummed, nodding before reaching into her kit. You looked down to watch her work, new fear ripping through you.

“No, just look at me,” Bucky ordered, making your gaze snap up to his. You nodded, doing your best to hold his gaze as the woman worked on the bomb.

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” You murmured, the fear making your inhibitions lowered, “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Bucky’s lips edged up into a smile, “Well, I figured you thought so considering how fast your heart was beating in that train car a few minutes ago. Or were you thinking about something other than my eyes?”

His charm worked perfectly, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look at us,” You mused, glancing down at the bomb for a moment before looking back up to Bucky, “A few months ago you wanted to kill me, and now we’re holding a bomb I pulled to save your ass, again.”

“No, I still want to kill you sometimes,” Bucky amended, but the words held no merit.

“Alright,” The bomb squad lady said, grabbing onto the underside of the bomb, “You can let it go now. I’ve got it.”

Your smile faded and you locked your gaze with Bucky’s again. He pulled one of his hands off and your grip on the explosive tightened. You shook your head slightly.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, nodding to you, “Let it go.”

Bucky slid his hand that was left on the bomb to yours, intertwining your fingers and slowly pulling your hand off. Before you knew it, Bucky had managed to pull your hand off the grenade. In its stead, Bucky held your hand tightly, pulling you instantly into his chest.

You let out a shuddering sigh of relief, leaning your head on Bucky’s shoulder. Slowly he pulled back, keeping your hand in his, “Come on, let’s go.”

You nodded, your fear ebbing as the two of you jumped down from the train car. In an instant, Sam was at the two of you, nearly knocking you over with a hug. You laughed, letting go of Bucky’s hand and hugging Sam back.

“You are insane!” Sam exclaimed, letting go of you and shaking his head, “Absolutely insane.”

You smiled, “Thanks,”

Sam laughed, shaking his head as he walked over to Bucky, “So not a compliment.”

After he checked in with Bucky he turned and faced the two of you.

“Good work, guys. Glad to see you’re not killing each other here.”

“Yet,” You and Bucky happened to say at the same time.

Sam smiled, “I better be off, I’ve got a mission I left to help out here.” Pausing, he looked over to you and gestured to Bucky, “Take care of him?”

You smiled, nodding, “Always.”

The two of you said your goodbyes as Sam turned and flew off. With a long sigh, you turned and began to make your way back to Bucky’s car.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I could go for some food right now.” You announced.

“Wait,” Bucky stopped you, grabbing your arm and pulling you around to face him, “What you said back there to Kingpin…did you mean it?”

For a moment, you considered playing dumb and asking what he meant. But you knew what he meant, and he knew you did. You had inadvertently said that you loved him, and because of the bomb situation you almost thought you’d make it out without having to confront it.

You held Bucky’s gaze that was searing into you, and suddenly you were overcome with that same sensation to kiss him as before. With him standing this close to you and after what you’d just been through together, it took all of your strength to hold back. The tension in the air between the two of you as he waited for your response was maddening.

“Well, I did nearly blow myself up for you so take that as you-”

“You are infuriating,” Bucky huffed, tugging you closer so that your body was flush against his. Your joking ended immediately, your pulse flickering wildly as his lips danced just out of reach of yours. His blue eyes were dark as he stared down at you, each of you daring the other to make the first move.

Your lips brushed against his as you spoke into the silence, “I meant it.”

And then his lips were on yours. His arm was around your waist, pulling you tight as his other tangled into your hair. This kiss had been brewing for months, and you could feel it. Lightning danced across your skin as he kissed you desperately, in a way that made your arms tighten around his neck to keep yourself from falling. He nipped at your bottom lip softly, then pulled away and moved to hold your face in his hands.

For a long while, Bucky just stared at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. You smiled, still dazed from the kiss.

“What?” You asked.

He ran a thumb across your cheek tenderly, “I was just trying to think back to when things changed between us. But…but I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”

Your smile widened and you surged forward, kissing him again. Pulling back, you gazed up at him with an amused glint in your eyes.

“And when you were choking me in my kitchen, threatening to kill me, that was you showing your love for me?” You asked.

Bucky’s grin turned suave and playful as he threw his arm across your shoulders and walked with you towards his car, “Well, you seemed to like it enough in that train car.”

Your cheeks heated and you scoffed, slapping his muscled chest as the two of you walked.

“Jerk,” You laughed out, and he held you closer to him with a smile.

“I love you too.”

#angst #fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #the winter soldier #fatws bucky #angst oneshot #sam wilson #enemies to lovers

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byersbootyshorts · 1 year

Text

Blood and Tears (S.R.)

When Spencer takes a bullet for you, you struggle to come to terms with what’s just happened.

Word Count: 1,773

Warnings: s9!Spencer, gn!reader, angst, fluff at the end, Spencer getting shot, reader crying, a lot of blood, hospital

this doesn’t really follow the canon episode but I don’t care

You were in the middle of a shootout with a potential unsub. Bullets were flying everywhere and you had no idea where any of your teammates were. You were shooting blind into the building in front of you with no clue as to what your bullets were actually hitting. You heard a shout behind you and instinctually looked around towards the source of the cry. A cop had been hit in the shoulder and was writhing on the ground. The sudden sight of the injured cop caught you so off guard that you almost forgot there were bullets hurtling towards you, until you heard someone shout, “Y/N, watch out!”

And that was when everything started to go blurry. The voice you heard was Spencer’s, warning you of a bullet that was headed straight for you. And now that same bullet was lodged in his neck. He lay bleeding on the ground in front of you. You felt like you were in a trance, moving in slow motion as you dragged his limp body behind an SUV. Spencer’s eyes drifted shut and his breath hitched.

“Hey, Spence, keep your eyes on me,” you said frantically.

You pressed your hand firmly against his wound to try to stop the bleeding but blood still seeped between your fingers and showed no signs of stopping. Spencer kept his eyes open for only a few seconds before he began to lose consciousness.

“No, no, Spencer. Do not shut your eyes. Please, Spencer, look at me,” you panicked.

But his eyes stayed shut.

“Medic! I need a medic!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. You knew you should’ve called for help earlier but you as soon as you saw Spencer fall to the ground it was as if your brain stopped functioning.

“Spencer, open your eyes,” you urged him. “Hurry! Over here!” you called to some silhouettes in the distance who you hoped were medics.

Eventually the medics ran over to you and lifted Spencer onto a stretcher. You held his hand as the medics carried him to the ambulance and didn’t let go as they hoisted him into the back of the vehicle and started speeding to the hospital.

Everything was moving so fast. You could barely breathe. Your whole body was trembling with fear, shock and terror. You tried to make sense of the events that had just unfolded but you couldn’t seem to clear the fog that was clouding your brain. You hoped with every atom in your body that this was all just a bad dream and that you’d wake up to find Spencer lying safely next to you.

But while you didn’t wake up, Spencer did. His eyes opened just a crack and he mumbled incoherently, but at least he was awake. For a moment you felt like you weren’t in a nightmare. You felt that maybe he’d just get up as if nothing happened.

“Spencer, I’m right here. You’re ok,” you said, squeezing his hand.

But just as you felt relief wash over you there was a sudden beeping of machinery.

“Pressure’s dropping. Pulse is threading. Starting a large bore IV,” one of the medics quickly rambled.

“Huh?” you breathed, unable to comprehend what the medic was saying.

“Agent, you need to stand back,” the other medic ordered you.

You moved to the back of the ambulance and sat with your head in your hands, rocking back and forth.

“Stay with me. God, please stay with me, Spence,” you mumbled to yourself.

It wasn’t long (although to you it felt like hours) until you arrived at the hospital. More medics opened the doors of the ambulance and swiftly moved Spencer onto a gurney. Once again, you grabbed his hand as he was wheeled through the tall glass doors of the hospital. You raced down endless hallways until you reached the door to the operating room.

“Agent, you can’t come in here,” a surgeon told you.

“But, I-,” you began, but in your mind you knew you couldn’t be in there with him.

“I’m sorry. We’ll do everything we can,” the surgeon said as you let go of Spencer’s hand and watched as he disappeared into the operating room.

You didn’t know where to go so you slumped against a wall and onto the floor in the hallway that led to where Spencer was in surgery. About thirty minutes passed and you didn’t move from your position. You had your head between your knees. You couldn’t think. Your mind was reeling, trying to make sense of what had happened. You had heard Spencer shout. And then all of a sudden he was on the ground with blood spewing out of his neck. And then it hit you. That bullet was meant for you. He had tried to warn you and then jumped in front of you.

Before you had time to process your new realisation you heard familiar voices coming your way.

“Y/N, you ok?” Alex asked, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

You looked up to see your team standing above you. All of them shared Alex’s worried expression.

“Spencer,” was all you could manage to mumble.

“We know,” Hotch said. “How long has he been in surgery?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered. Morgan leaned down beside you and helped you off the floor. You noticed the bandage around his arm. Still, your teammates maintained their concerned expressions.

“Hey, how about we go get you cleaned up?” JJ asked softly, holding out her hand to you.

“What?” you said, not understanding why you needed to be ‘cleaned up’. JJ grabbed your hand and for the first time you saw it.

You looked down at your hands and saw that they were covered in blood. Your sleeves were drenched red. You could only imagine what your face looked like considering you’d been sitting with your head in your hands. Your entire face was probably stained with blood.

Spencer’s blood. Not your blood. Spencer’s.

And that’s when everything came crashing down on you. The fact that Spencer had saved your life. The fact that he was in critical condition, fighting for his life because he took a bullet that was meant for you. The fact that you were covered in his blood. So much blood you couldn’t fathom how he could possibly still be alive.

Every realisation hit you at once and, for the first time, you cried. A loud sob escaped you and you almost fell to the floor before Alex caught you and pulled you into a hug. You were staining her clothes with blood but you didn’t care. You wept into her shoulder and she rubbed your back gently.

When you pulled away from her she said, “Why don’t you go with JJ now?” You did as she asked and followed JJ down the hallway, further and further away from Spencer.

It had been hours. JJ had helped wash the blood off you and got you a change of clothes. Once you’d started crying it had been hard to stop. Your body was alternating between sobbing and going numb. Different members of the team had come over and attempted to comfort you but you couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. All you could focus on was the door that you hoped a doctor would walk through to tell you Spencer was out of surgery.

And finally, a doctor appeared.

“Spencer Reid,” he announced to the waiting room.

“Yes,” you said, practically leaping from your chair. The whole team crowded around the doctor.

“He’s stable.”

Every one of you sighed in relief. A tear rolled down your face and Morgan rubbed your arm.

“I knew that kid was a fighter,” Rossi smiled.

“Can I see him,” you asked, your throat hoarse from shouting and crying.

“He’s not awake yet, but yes, you can see him,” the doctor said.

He led you down more narrow corridors to a recovery room. When you entered you saw Spencer lying unconscious on the bed. His neck was wrapped with bandages and his face was paler than you’d ever seen it. But apart from that he looked no different than how he looked before being shot.

You darted across the room and pulled a chair over to the bedside. You laced your fingers in his and couldn’t help but cry again. Except this time they weren’t tears of sadness, but tears of relief.

You laid your head on the bed, your hand still holding his, waiting for him to wake up. You had no idea how long you’d been there when you felt Spencer’s fingers start to twitch against your hand. You whipped your head up from the sheets to see Spencer’s eyes slowly flicker open.

“Oh my God,” you sniffed.

Spencer turned his head towards you, trying to figure out where he was. When he finally got his bearings he smiled tiredly at you.

“Why are you crying? I’m the one who got shot,” he said groggily, wiping a tear from your cheek.

You let out a choked chuckle and kissed his hand.

“It’s kind of hard not to cry when you don’t know if the man you love is dead or alive,” you replied.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m alive,” Spencer smiled weakly up at you.

You stared into his eyes for a moment, so happy to see them open again. Spencer shifted in the bed slightly and winced when he moved his neck.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said, helping him readjust his pillows.

“Done what?” Spencer asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“That bullet was meant for me.”

“I’m not sorry,” Spencer said bluntly.

“Well, you should be,” you told him off. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Hmm, I’m not really in a rush to try it again. Once was enough for me,” Spencer joked.

“I’m serious, Spence. I cannot lose you,” you said, placing your hand on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too. That’s why I took that bullet for you.”

You took a deep breath and finally allowed your muscles to relax. You closed your eyes and took a moment to let all the stress of the past couple of hours drain from your body. When you opened your eyes again, Spencer was staring up at you longingly.

“Now, can you please kiss me because I want to kiss you but I can’t really move,” he said, pointing at his bandages.

“If you insist,” you smiled, leaning down gently, making sure not to move his neck too much. You placed your lips on his and tried to forget all the blood and tears you’d just endured.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #gn!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #angst oneshot #fluff oneshot #angst fic #fluff fic

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jomamaofficial · 1 month

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The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter pt.2 (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: SO, THIS WAS ASKED IN MY ASK BOX. BUT I STUPIDLY REPLIED TO IT SO I DON'T KNOW WHICH ANON ASKED FOR IT SO I'M JUST GOING TO TAG EVERYONE WHO LIEKD THAT POST HERE AND HOPE IT'S THE BRILLIANT ANON WHO WANTED ME TO WRITE A PART 2. @dark-magic-phoenix @crystal-freak24 @observaureium @justtovi3w62. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Graphic descriptions of blood (coughing blood), graphic imagery of crushing a heart (doesn't happen, just explained) CW: difficult father-daughter dynamics. Taglist: @thatcatladywrites @smikys-stuff @kimberlyfletcher @dawnwriterimagines Masterlist Word Count: 1951. Summary: One argument led to another– the foundation of your family was built upon suffering and sacrifice. Secrets were unveiled, revealing the true intentions of your father, the lingering wounds of the past stinging harder than any cut has ever. With tension reaching a breaking point, what happens when you confront your father, searching for the harsh truth, even if it leads to a devastating decision– you will never be the same again. He will never be the same again.

——————————————————————————————————

Toshinori’s chest rose and fell.

“You don’t mean that…”

A pang struck through your heart as your father’s laboured breaths increased, tailing off in steady wheezes that only grew louder.

“Dad…” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Dad, I didn’t m-”

Your voice cracked, succumbing to the hot tears which burned against your cheeks. Emotions flooded your head, as though they had been waiting to escape from the dam of truth that you had to silence to protect the peace in your family. The pressure had built up and that dam had finally broken in the most irreparable way possible.

Shame hammered your mind, delivering blunt throbs as you watched your dad clutching his frail chest in agony.

Guilt drilled poison into your veins as your father struggled to stand up– his sickly body unable to bear this pressure. His airways had been restricted, thus his once strong and proud chest had nothing to show but a vacant cavity, struggling to hold itself up.

This living room had always been small– enough space just for the two of you. Dad and his little hero. It had always been you two, but today, this room was longer and narrower, as though mocking your sanity which had become a battlefield.

Would you protect your father and carry on living in this dollhouse family, of which the foundations were built off of your suffering.

Or would you protect yourself and destroy your relationship with the only family that you ever had.

The struggle had refused to forsake– silence had become your greatest enemy. It had left you alone with your screaming thoughts of doubt that deafened your conviction, leaving you straggled, naked, and vulnerable in the vast depths of your fears because what if.

What if Midoriya truly was better than you?

What if you truly were not worth it?

What if you had lost your rights to call yourself his daughter.

Forever.

You had lost everything to the ravenous beast which ruined everything you touched, and it wanted more. It wanted more, so it began making more noise, howling over the whispers of the wind, it howled over the ticking of the clock. It howled until nothing could be heard.

Silence.

It had become silent.

As though you were the only person in the room.

A sudden thud drew your attention to the floor.

Toshinori collapsed on the ground, and his eyes had gone blank, jaw slack. His ribs stuck out from under his skin, showing through his thin white t-shirt as his brassy cough filled his mouth with blood.

He urgently covered his mouth with his hands, forcing it shut but to no avail. It had already slipped past his hold, travelling down his neck, staining his shirt. A constant offender.

Your father began developing bloody coughs over three years ago. Yet every time you saw his chest heave and bleed, surges of nausea would creep up your veins, forcing you to leave.

“Dad!”

This was too much blood. It wasn’t meant to be like this… The doctor said a few drops or so, maybe a teaspoon, but that was ‘highly unlikely’. You watched as his white shirt became saturated, dizziness threatening to blur your vision.

But you could not see him like this. You didn’t think twice before rushing to help him– but you were stopped.

Toshinori raised his shaking hand immediately. You were halted, frozen in disbelief.

He put his hand back on the floor, taking a few breaths before pushing himself, warranting another step forward from you, another cry, but he just stopped you again. You could only watch as your father relied on his bony wrists to push himself up.

You could hear his shallow gasps for air, and his repressed coughs– and all you could do was watch your father’s face contort in fatigue and ache. Toshinori had finally gotten up, but that look had not left his face as he pushed past you. You watched the limp in his leg as he hobbled towards the couch, slowly lowering himself onto the cushioned couch. His head slumped onto the head rest, limbs unfurling in exhaustion.

You were suspended in your head, unable to move past the questions which rung bright sirens.

You shouldn’t have raised your voice at your own father– the doctor had told you. He’s injured, he’s getting older. He can’t process such shocks like this anymore.

What was wrong with you?

But it couldn’t have been just your fault… right? But then he pushed you– maybe he didn’t just notice– but what if he did it on pur-

“Y/N”, your father had called for your name, but his eyes did not meet yours.

Instead, they looked past you.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was five years old.

A decade after the first quirk was discovered, many adoption agencies in Musutafu began sorting children based off of a ‘ranking system’.

Official documents stated that this case was first brought up in the Supreme Court due to an incident that had occurred in an orphanage near Musutafu, 26 years ago. It was a heartbreaking case of manslaughter that had taken place when six year old Chihiro Onodera– Quirk: Lava, accidentally murdered eight year old Honoka Sugo– Quirk: Bubbles, during lunch time as they were play-fighting.

It did not take much convincing as this case had reached international news, thus the court immediately passed a bill on the separation of quirks preliminary based off of their strength and danger levels, which were to be evaluated on a scale of 1 to 5.

Nevertheless, this bill had struck a controversial match, becoming the largest contemporary topic that was disputed over in the past years.

Demonstrations, protests and violent public outrage reached its peak when leaked intel revealed that a lot of children began to go missing from Adoption Agencies under the radar– they no longer had papers, as if their identities had been erased off of the face of this Earth.

Nanami Tomoda, Sae Ojima, Makoto Kanezaki– these were some of the household names that had garnered petrifying national and international headlines:

Heartbreaking Tragedy Strikes Japan: Devastating Attack Leaves Communities Reeling

Japan in Shock: Deadly Assault Rocks Nation's Sense of Security

Aftermath of Brutal Assault Leaves Nation Grieving Chaos and Carnage

Not much was known about these young adults.

Apart from two things.

First.

They were not independent contractors. All of them could be traced back to some of the very few established, powerful, underground organisations.

And second.

They were all orphans, rated 5, who had been declared missing for ten or more years.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was rated 5.

Toshinori Y/N lost her quirk at age ten.

You are rated 0.

Zero.

Toshinori took a deep breath before he spoke.

“I have raised you since you were five years old.” He still did not meet your eyes. “I raised you in hopes that you would become a strong, and powerful young lady.”

He drew a breath in– it was laced in disappointment.

“But why does it feel, as though it has had no influence on you?”

Toshinori shifted both of his arms onto the couch rests, sitting tall.

“One does not become a hero by winning every fight. Not everything is about a hero’s physical strength. A hero is made when they understand that retaliation only makes them the real villain.”

Your father’s voice had deepened, and so did the dreadful pit in your stomach that sunk your resolve.

“A true hero understands that strength lies in the ability to rise above the pain. Because those who focus on what has been lost”, he continued, lips twitching, as a faint, uncontrollable tremor laced his words in indisputable venomous contempt, “are either insane, or desperate for attention they know they will never get.”

Small muscles in your face began to twitch despite the heaviness that had been pulsed through your body, holding it in place, as you just stood there. Your eyes, once red and exposed, had no inhabitant, no focus.

A ghost town.

“A true hero is grateful. And recognises every bit of effort someone else put in order to get them to where they are now.”

His gaunt eyes found yours, casting an unfamiliar chill in your body. They were sunken in, casting his gaze in dark shadows– an abyss impenetrable by light.

“You got your quirk stolen, Y/N. But you cannot get that back anymore. But it’s been years, I expect at least some gratitude considering I did you a favour by adopting you.”

He had left a clot that blocked your heart.

“Because no one else would have wanted you.”

It is always the one closest to you that hurts you the most.

The man you called your father had waited until the last second to take the satisfaction of crushing your heart, flesh against flesh.

Humans evolved to gain resistance and immunity against everything that threatens their survival.

Therefore, living with this man only meant that you had to gain immunity against pain and humiliation, because that was the only thing that could guarantee your survival.

So when you shook off the heaviness in your lid and focused onto your father’s face, you could only lift the corners of your lip.

“If you didn’t want me. Someone else would have adopted me instead. Like you did. No papers, no nothing– I’d slip under the radar, at least I’d still have my quirk, and end up on those headlines.”

“How dare you?” he uttered, face contorted in malice.

“I was five. That’s why you adopted me. Don’t deny it”

Toshinori stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His shoulders, broad and hubris, had become small and meek. You watched him contemplate: his eyes, vindictive and daring, were cast down, hiding amongst the Tatami flooring.

“My child…” he began, his voice softer. “After your quirk had been stolen, I could not risk making you the target again. That’s the reason I don’t come to your events. It’s because you’ll become the target everyone goes for because they know you’re my daughter”.

“They’ll know?” your lips had pressed into a thin line. “Like how Midoriya knew I was your daughter? Like how the media knows?”

In the stifling air, your dry laughter bounced off of the discomfort.

“Don’t act like you aren’t ashamed of me.”

Your face had settled into a stone.

“It’s not about me being a target. It’s about protecting your image.”

“My daughter-”

“You have lost the right to call me your daughter. If I was such a disappointment after my quirk was ripped away from me, why did you keep me? You could have sent me back. Why did you keep me, dad, why did you keep me!”

Those closest to you, leave irreparable wounds.

But there was a reason they were close to you. A reason that subsided in love, care, and hope.

Your crushed heart was surviving on its last breath, waiting to hear something that could revive it.

Toshinori lifted his head again, his eyes flickering behind you.

It locked onto an object that somehow gained more attention than you ever had in your entire life. You risked a look over your shoulder, only to see the picture of your father and Midoriya, smiling–almost mockingly– back at you.

You knew what the answer was going to be.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing.”

A flat-line.

“Well if that’s how you really feel, I have no obligation to stay here anymore.”

You drew your breath in, words suspended at the tip of your tongue.

“I wish you and your student the best of luck, All Might.”

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perfectsunlight · 7 months

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘

𝒇𝒕. 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆, 𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓. 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐲, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟑.𝟐𝐤

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲 - 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐨

eunchae remembered the first time she saw wonyoung on television.

izone was one of her favorite groups when she was younger. fiesta was her favorite song and she recalled just how badly she wanted to be an idol someday.

she would spend hours watching fancams and performances, mesmerized by wonyoung and the rest of the girls. sometimes eunchae wishes izone stayed as a group. maybe chaewon would be happier.

being an idol was hard, but being a trainee was even harder.

the grueling life of a trainee, with its endless hours of practice, sweat, and tears, often seemed like an insurmountable mountain. but in those moments of despair, when the weight of ambition threatened to crush her spirit, eunchae found solace in her idols.

she often wondered how wonyoung made it look so easy.

lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry

aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of hell?

insecurity was a foreign feeling to hong eunchae. she knew she was more than capable of being an idol. as the youngest member of le sserafim, she knew that her spot in the lineup was not just a stroke of luck. it was a testament to her hard work and dedication.

despite all the challenges she and her fellow members went through, the young idol knew that le sserafim was a force to be reckoned with. she knew that despite her own age, she was more than qualified for a position in the group.

the first time eunchae doubted herself was when chaewon slipped up on a live with sakura and kazuha.

dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies

did i ever tell you that i'm not doin' well?

“konnichiwa, izo–”

kim chaewon caught herself and immediately stopped speaking. sakura’s face fell for a split second at the realization of what her former izone member said before forcing a smile and saying the correct greeting.

of course, eunchae knew izone was always going to be a part of her leader and the eldest member’s past. it wasn’t something that would be erased.

but the young girl started to doubt the validity of her group at that moment. she questioned her worth, her abilities, and her very presence in le sserafim. it felt like chaewon was still longing for something she no longer had.

or rather, someone.

ooh, i care, i care, i care

like perfume that you wear, i linger all the time

watching, hidden in plain sight

“look, it’s yujin.” sakura whispered to chaewon, motioning with her eyes to the group of girls that had entered the room. ive and its leader, another former izone member, were making their way to their seats. eunchae would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a pit in her stomach at the smile that formed on chaewon’s lips when she saw wonyoung.

it was a smile that spoke volumes, a silent reminder that jang wonyoung was more than just an idol – she was family.

“ah,” the japanese girl sighed softly. “wonyoung’s all grown up.” sakura's whispered words, filled with both nostalgia and a touch of wistfulness, only deepened the pit in eunchae's stomach. the leader next to her nodded absentmindedly.

“i know. she’s not my maknae anymore.”

my maknae.

oh how that small phrase burned a hole in the young girl’s chest. the term was once a term of endearment, something that chaewon always called her.

now it just echoed in her mind like a painful reminder of her place in the hierarchy of her leader’s heart.

she poked the inside of her cheek and stared at her folded hands in her own lap. despite sitting amidst her fellow idols, eunchae felt like an outsider peering into a world she could never truly be a part of.

she bit her lip, fighting against the surge of emotions threatening to engulf her. she couldn’t be sure whether her unease stemmed from the shifting dynamics among her former group members or from the unsettling realization that her position within the group might not be as secure as she had once believed.

eunchae's eyes flickered back to chaewon, whose gaze remained fixed on wonyoung as if captivated by an unspoken connection that stretched beyond the confines of words.

the way chaewon's smile softened, her eyes glowing with a mixture of pride and longing, cut through eunchae like a knife.

it was a smile meant for a cherished younger sister, a smile that belonged to someone else. someone who had once held the title of chaewon’s maknae. a knot tightened in eunchae's throat, and she clenched her hands into fists to quell the rising turmoil within her.

despite the undeniable talent and potential that had secured her a spot in le sserafim, the presence of her illustrious seniors, both past and present, weighed heavily on her young shoulders.

ooh, i try, i try, i try

but it takes over my life, i see you everywhere

the sweetest torture one could bear

hong eunchae’s daily screen time was averaging around 10 hours. 75% of that time was spent on looking at wonyoung. or rather, comparing herself to wonyoung.

her fingertips danced over the glass, scrolling through images, videos, and social media posts that showcased wonyoung's charisma and talent. each swipe brought a mix of fascination and self-doubt, as if she were willingly subjecting herself to a torturous cycle of comparison.

the effortless grace with which wonyoung carried herself, the way her smile seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the screen – it was all a constant reminder of the standards she felt she had to meet.

eunchae, despite her own remarkable abilities, couldn't help but measure herself against this unattainable ideal.

the more she looked, the more the lines between admiration and envy blurred, leaving her trapped in a cycle of insecurity.

it also didn’t help that wonyoung’s face was practically everywhere. the girl was being casted in commercials, plastered on the covers of magazines, and dominating television screens with her charismatic presence.

everywhere eunchae turned, there was wonyoung.

the constant exposure amplified eunchae's feelings of inadequacy, as if the world itself were conspiring to remind her of the gap between her dreams and her reality. even as she closed her eyes at night, wonyoung's image lingered, an uninvited guest in her thoughts. in her dreams, eunchae found herself shadowing the footsteps of her idol, trying to mimic every gesture and expression.

it was as if she were living a fractured version of her life, a relentless pursuit of a mirage she could never truly catch.

the true cracks in the glass began showing when eunchae met wonyoung for the first time.

smart, sexy lacy, i'm losin' it lately

i feel your compliments like bullets on skin

chaewon laughed as she leaned over and hugged wonyoung tightly. eunchae stood next to her leader, her hands clasped tightly, trying to conceal the tremor that ran through her fingers. the moment hung in the air like a fragile thread, as if the universe itself held its breath, waiting to see how this encounter would unfold. wonyoung's presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in with an effortless charm that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. her voice felt stuck in her throat, unable to form the words she longed to say.

compliments that should have flown freely, expressing her admiration for the girl who had once been her beacon of inspiration, now felt like shards of glass, cutting her from the inside.

as chaewon and wonyoung exchanged pleasantries, eunchae's smile wavered, her eyes momentarily clouded with uncertainty. it was a subtle shift, one that might have gone unnoticed by others but not by her leader. chaewon, perceptive as always, sensed the inner battle raging within her youngest member.

sensing eunchae's hesitation, the le sserafim leader gently nudged her forward, as if encouraging her to step into the spotlight. the young girl took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had left. “um, wonyoung sunbaenim, it's truly an honor to meet you,” she managed to say, her voice quivering ever so slightly.

the moment wonyoung’s eyes met hers, eunchae wanted to throw up.

when the taller girl spoke, her words were laced with a sincerity that cut through eunchae's defenses like a blade. “thank you,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of genuine appreciation. “i've seen a lot of your performances. unnie speaks highly of your group, you are all hard workers.”

wony’s praise, genuine and unfiltered, hung in the air like a double-edged sword. to any other listener, her words might have been a beacon of validation, but to eunchae, they were a reminder of the expectations now etched into her skin.

her throat tightened, and she forced herself to swallow the lump that seemed lodged there, trying to respond with a gracious smile. “thank you,” eunchae managed, her voice barely above a whisper. her words felt inadequate, drowned out by the cacophony of her internal struggles.

in that moment, she realized the weight of admiration was a double burden. it was building her up to knock her down.

the praise that was meant to inspire now felt like an anchor, chaining her to a pedestal she was not sure she could stand on. beside her, chaewon's grip tightened on her shoulder, a silent reassurance that felt both grounding and suffocating. eunchae wished she could voice her fears, her doubts, but the words remained lodged in her throat, silenced by the fear of exposing her vulnerability.

the ive member’s smile never wavered, but her eyes, so full of wisdom beyond her years, seemed to see through the façade eunchae wore. it was a gaze that felt like an x-ray, peeling away the layers of her self-doubt and revealing the raw, unvarnished truth beneath.

the room buzzed with conversation around them, but in that moment, eunchae felt like she was standing in the eye of a storm, where the world was still, and only her internal turmoil raged on.

dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnate

well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

wonyuong was all anyone ever talked about. she was the perfect example of everything anyone ever wanted to be. and hong eunchae couldn’t feel any less inadequate.

everywhere eunchae turned, it seemed, there was a whisper of wonyoung's name, a fluttering echo of her successes that permeated the air. magazines showcased her flawless smile, billboards displayed her commanding presence, and social media platforms buzzed with her fans' adoration.

wonyoung was not just an idol; she was an icon, a living embodiment of dreams realized. she was the epitome of grace, talent, and beauty – everything anyone ever aspired to become.

chaewon’s birthday was coming up, and the young girl wanted to make her a nice card. she spent 3 days cutting, gluing, and coloring together the perfect card for her leader.

when she finally showed chaewon, she felt proud of herself. and it would have been a perfect moment if not for the comment that she said.

“ah, this reminds me of when wonyoung used to make cards like this. you remember that?” chaewon said towards sakura, reminiscing on the past and lingering on the only girl who made eunchae feel everything she wasn’t. the japanese girl cooed at the remark and nodded her head, agreeing silently with the former izone member.

eunchae knew her leader meant well, and it wasn’t a jab at her in any way directly, but she felt like she was invisible.

eunchae's heart sank at chaewon's innocent remark, the joy of her accomplishment instantly overshadowed by a wave of insecurity. the compliment meant to lift her spirits now felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of the constant comparison that loomed over her, even in moments of genuine connection.

for the following days, eunchae found herself haunted by that moment. the specter of wonyoung's achievements seemed to follow her everywhere, even into the sanctuary of her practice room. the movements that had once flowed effortlessly became stilted, the melodies that used to inspire her now carried a bitter undertone. doubt, like an unwelcome companion, whispered in her ear, casting shadows on her every step. desperate to break free from this suffocating cycle, eunchae immersed herself in her training.

the practice studio became her refuge, the place where she could pour her frustrations into every movement.

she practiced until her muscles ached and her breaths came in ragged gasps, hoping that with enough dedication, she could drown out the cacophony of comparison that echoed in her mind. yet, even in the midst of her determined efforts, the memory of chaewon's unintentional remark lingered, an invisible barrier between her and the confidence she so desperately sought.

she felt like she was trapped in a never-ending loop, unable to escape the cycle of insecurity that threatened to consume her.

but there was nothing that eunchae wanted more than to be her own person in the eyes of the leader she admired so much.

ooh, i care, i care, i care

like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots

you got the one thing that i want

everything eunchae did seemed to only cement herself deeper into the shadow of jang wonyoung.

in the following weeks, eunchae became acutely aware of the seemingly insurmountable chasm that separated her from wonyoung. every accomplishment, every effort to shine, only served to highlight the gap between them. despite her best attempts, the world around her continued to echo with wonyoung's name, a constant reminder of the impossible standards she was expected to meet.

even within the confines of le sserafim, eunchae found herself walking on a tightrope of comparison. her every move, every note she sang, was scrutinized against the backdrop of wonyoung's flawless performances. the praise she received, though genuine, felt like a reluctant acknowledgment. even in the practice room, where she had once felt the most liberated, the young idol now felt even more of the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders.

each dance move became a battleground, a chance to prove herself, to show that she was more than just a shadow of someone else's brilliance. yet, the more she pushed, the more she seemed to stumble, the movements losing their fluidity and grace under the weight of her insecurities.

what did she bring to the table that was truly hers? what made her unique? what made her special?

what made her different from jang wonyoung?

“manchae?”

chaewon’s soft voice rang out, snapping the young girl from her thoughts as she entered the practice room. it was 3 in the morning.

“unnie.” eunchae said, bowing in the direction of her leader. “you’re up late.” the leader added, walking over to the younger girl with a worried look on her face. “everything okay?”

the younger girl forced a smile and nodded. “i just want to make sure i have the dance break down.”

“i think you know it better than anyone at this point.” the older girl chuckled, gently patting the maknae’s head. “you should get some sleep soon.”

eunchae appreciated chaewon's concern, her leader's presence providing a comforting reassurance amidst the late-night silence of the practice room. the gentle pat on her head felt like a touch of understanding, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her relentless pursuit of perfection.

“i just want to make sure i get it right,” manchae said, her voice a soft murmur, filled with determination. “i want to be the best out there.” the leader’s eyes softened, her gaze reflecting a mix of admiration and concern for her youngest member. she took a step closer, her hand resting on eunchae's shoulder, grounding her with a touch that felt like a lifeline.

“eunbi unnie told me this before, and i’ll tell you it too. i even told wonyoung this.” chaewon leaned down to be level with the youngest member.

“you cannot perform the best, without even a little bit of rest.”

there it was again. the sinking feeling, that anything eunchae did or heard, was just a reminder of wonyoung.

she wondered if wonyoung ever heard the leader say she’s told her the same things. why did it always have to be the other way around?

ooh, i try, i try, i try

try to rationalize, people are people, but

it's like you're made of angel dust

“but i can rest after our performance.” eunchae pushed lightly, motioning with her hands for emphasis. “that way i can know my rest is well earned.” chaewon chuckled softly, mentally noting how similar eunchae’s attitude was to wonyoung’s all that time ago. “you’re more stubborn than my last maknae.” she teased lightly, gently pushing the younger girl’s shoulder.

of course wonyoung took advice from her leaders. of course wonyoung would rest when told to. of course she did everything right.

unlike her sunbae, eunchae seemed to only do everything wrong.

the teasing words resonated in eunchae's mind, sparking a sharper pang of insecurity that she thought she had somewhat buried. as she watched her leader's retreating figure, a wave of self-doubt washed over her. the comparison to wonyoung, meant in jest, felt like a spotlight highlighting her perceived shortcomings.

once again, she was reminded of her place.

lacy, oh, lacy, it's like you're out to get me

you poison every little thing that i do

lacy, oh, lacy, i just loathe you lately

and i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

in the quiet, the room seemed to close in on her, the mirrors reflecting back an image she didn't recognize. the young girl who had once dreamed of being an idol, who had once danced with joy and passion, felt like a distant memory.

now, in her place, stood a girl burdened by the shadow of comparison, questioning her every move, her every decision.

she found herself spiraling into a cycle of negative thoughts, each one a barb digging deeper into her confidence.

“maybe i'm just not cut out for this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely audible above the distant hum of the air conditioning unit.

wonyoung was someone she once idolized. she was someone she looked up to and wanted to be exactly like.

was it wrong to say that she despised the girl now?

all she ever wanted was to be like wonyoung. and to hold a special place in her leader’s heart. but it seemed like she could do neither.

the question gnawed at her soul – what had she done wrong? why couldn't she be the person chaewon admired so deeply, the way she admired wonyoung? the uncertainty clawed at her, leaving her with a sense of isolation that cut deeper than any criticism from the outside world.

she wiped her watery eyes with the end of her sleeves. she was so caught up in her head that she didn’t realize the tears cascading down her face. as she gazed into her own eyes, red and puffy from crying, she finally admitted defeat.

hong eunchae would never be jang wonyoung.

but maybe that was okay, even if right now it didn’t feel that way.

yeah, i despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

a/n: this is my first fic that isn't an x reader...but i hope u guys like it :)

#eunchae #chaewon #wonyoung #izone #lesserafim #angst oneshot #lesserafim oneshot #izone oneshot #lacy olivia rodrigo #perfectsunlight

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jakeyzzz · 6 months

Text

forgiven...

(angst/fluff) heeseung x f!reader oneshot

masterlist ! ♡

warnings - { mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, swearing, crying, kissing, mentions of not being able to sleep }

let me know if I missed anything !

english is NOT my first language so please be nice !

🤍 1.4k words 🤍

...

You couldn't sleep. Your brain kept replaying the same scene that broke your heart into a million pieces over and over again.

You've tried to forget about it. You've tried to forget about how he left with her. You've tried to forget about how he left you behind. But it was impossible.

You were sitting on your kitchen counter late at night when you started thinking about how he must've felt in that moment. You wondered if he regretted anything. You wondered if she could make his heart beat faster than you could. You even started questioning if you were ever good enough for him. And as you were busy overthinking, you heard someone aggressively knocking on your front door. You got startled by the loud noise, and slowly started walking towards your front door before nervously looking through the peephole.

You sighed looking at the Person standing at your front door. You felt your heart clench in your chest. But you knew you needed to hear him out. You had so many questions.

You slowly opened the door, not able to look at the boy in front of you. You wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out. ,,What are you doing here ?'' Heeseung leaned his body against the door, looking at you with tired eyes. He looked so exhausted. ,,I'm sorry...'' He mumbled. His voice was weak, and it was almost too hard to understand what he was saying. He was clearly suffering. But you ignored his apology. You couldn't forgive him that easily.

,,Did you drink ?''

,,No'' He lied.

Heeseung was a mess. He could barely stand by himself. He had been drinking a lot the last few days, since he couldn't deal with the pain and the regret he was feeling. But he knew alcohol couldn't solve his problems. It just made the pain more bearable.

,,Please forgive me'' Heeseung murmured, stumbling towards you. You tried to keep him up on his feet as much as you could, which was hard since he was pretty tall. So before anything else could happen, you put his arm around your shoulder and carefully lead him towards the couch in your living room. You prevented him from stumbling over his own feet a few times and had to help him sit down, but everything ended up going well.

,,You know it's not that easy, Heeseung...''

Heeseung sat on the couch with his eyes closed. You could see his lips tremble which made you realize he was trying not to cry.

,,I know I fucked up okay ? I was just being a selfish asshole in that moment but I promise I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to lose you. My life sucks without you in it, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm s- so sorry please come back to me...'' He begged.

,, Yes, maybe you didn't mean to hurt me. But she did ! and you let it happen. Was it worth it, Heeseung ? Did it make you feel good ? Did she give you what you hoped for ? Did you tell her the same things you told m- ''

,, Stop !'' Heeseung abruptly got up from the couch and directly looked at you as tears streamed down his face. He immediately felt bad for raising his voice at you when he was the one who messed things up. To him it felt like your words fully sobered him up.

He took a few seconds to calm down before slowly kneeling down in front of you. He gently cupped your cheeks to make you look at him, and you decided to let him. You knew he regretted everything. And you knew he was sorry. But you wanted him to feel the same amount of pain he made you go through.

,,No, Y/N. It didn't make me feel good. Doing this to you made me realize that you're way too good for me. You didn't deserve all of this. And I know I don't deserve getting you back, but I need you to give me a second chance. I love you with all my heart, and i made a huge mistake. I'm sorry, okay ? ''

Heeseung broke into tears once again as he talked.

You had to admit he was right.

He didn't deserve to get you back. But after all everyone deserves a second chance. And everyone makes mistakes. Making mistakes is a part of life. And he didn't deserve to be hated for being a simple human being. You did love him after all. Even though he hurt you, you never stopped loving him.

,,I just really hope I can trust you. You're the only one i've ever loved, Heeseung.'' You murmured with a shaky voice. Without even wasting a second, Heeseung quickly nodded his head.

,,I promise you can. I won't hurt you again...''

,,Good because if you do, I don't think I'll be able to forgive you.''

Heeseung let out a relieved sigh before finally pulling you into his arms. He missed you so much. You gently wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

Oh, you missed him so goddamn much.

,,i'm so sorry... '' Heeseung whispered, softly crying into your neck. You placed a gentle kiss on his temple as you caressed the back of his head delicately. Heeseung was finally at peace, and he knew the sleepless nights were finally over.

,,It'll be okay. I love you...'' You said. Heeseung weakly smiled at you when you gently wiped his tears away with your thumbs. He closed your eyes at your touch, feeling incredibly happy to have you back.

,,Y/N ?''

,,Yes ?''

,, ...Can I kiss you ?''

You smiled softly.

,, Please do...''

And then, your lips finally met. Your face was cupped in his hands as he kissed you slow and gentle. You wrapped your arms around his neck in order to pull him even closer to your body, which made Heeseung smile into the kiss. He carefully pulled you onto his lap and gently ran his hand over your thigh, then over your hip and eventually over your waist before wrapping his arm around it. He traced his tongue over your bottom lip before slowly deepening the kiss, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. Your hands were rested on his chest when he kissed you with more passion. He needed you to know how much he loved you.

,,No one can make me feel the way you make me feel, Y/N. ''

Heeseung whispered against your lips.

He gently brushed his lips against yours, not wanting to pull away just yet. He enjoyed your presence more than anything else.

,,Heeseung ?'' You giggled. ,,Are you okay?''

Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, not able to contain his smile.

,,Yes. I was just enjoying the moment. I'm more than okay. ''

You smiled softly before quickly placing another kiss on his lips. You realized how much you needed him. Because in the time he was gone, you simply missed everything about him. You missed his kisses, his touch, the way he smiled and even his voice. Your life sucked without him. But now he was finally back in your arms, kissing you and loving you.

,,Does your head hurt, Hee ?'' You asked, kissing his forehead softly. You knew Heeseung wasn't completely sober yet. You could tell by the way he was talking.

Heeseung sighed loudly.

,,Honestly, yeah.'' He admitted before putting his head on your shoulder. You looked at him with a soft smile on your face as you pulled him into your arms.

,,Let me take care of you alright ?'' You said, kissing the crown of his head after. Heeseung hummed tiredly. Before he could fall asleep in your arms sitting on the floor, you brought him to your bedroom.

You put a glass of water on your nightstand for Heeseung to drink before quietly getting under your blanket. Heeseung was already fast asleep. You took the chance to watch his sleeping face silently as you gently brushed your thumb over his slightly parted lips. You couldn't help but kiss him softly.

,,You mean so much to me, Heeseung. And i love you more than anyone else. I hope you know that. '' You whispered, placing another gentle kiss on his forehead.

You could see a light smile appear on Heeseung's lips.

,,I love you.'' He mumbled in his sleep, making you giggle quietly. You carefully sneaked yourself into his arms, trying not to wake him up.

,,I love you too, hee.''

And only a few minutes later, you fell asleep in his arms. And you both hoped you would wake up next to each other for the rest of your lives. You were meant to be for each other. You felt in in your hearts.

- end

...

taglist - { @aleiouvre , @wonbie ...}

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parvulous-writings · 2 months

Text

Miasma // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Halsin's rescue of Thaniel goes drastically wrong. Gender Neutral reader (they/them pronouns where they had to be used)

Warnings: Angst, character death, no resolution/comfort. Depictions of grief, anger. Violence. Wonky pacing, maybe? Unresolved ending, also - sorry for the hurt in advance!

Words: 3.7K

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

"The magic is delicate." Halsin had warned - the words now rang in your mind like a knell. "I will need your help if I am to survive- the portal will sap my strength." You had vowed to aid him - to defend the portal that Silvanus had helped him to create. And you had tried. You'd thrown almost every spell that you knew into the shrouded, cursed dark that surrounded your party and the portal, done near everything you could think of to keep the danger at bay. But, somehow, it wasn't enough. Something had gotten through your defenses, though you could barely recall what exactly it was. An arrow? A crow, touched and warped by shadow? The more you dwelled upon the thought, the more your chest began to tighten. What did it matter, what it was that ruptured the portal and caused it's premature collapse? No matter the form of the assailant, it did nothing to change the chain of events that had since then transpired. A gentle voice breaks you from your spiralling thoughts; "At least he is with Lady Shar, if nothing else..." You feel your face contort into a scowl at Shadowheart's words - Halsin was not a worshipper of Shar, why would he be happy that he is with the lady of sorrow? If anything, you thought, it would enrage him that the one who's shadows had laid claim to him, was the one he would be 'with'. But you say nothing to Shadowheart, you know for a fact that the only things that would pass your lips would be words of venomous spite. Not that you didn't like Shadowheart - you were actually quite fond of her, she usually would say things how they were, without sugar-coating them. But in this instance, using the name of Lady Shar to try and bring you some false comfort only made you feel worse.

The trek back to camp was coated in a stony silence. The rest of the party were waiting for you to say something, some words of wisdom or hope, but you said nothing. You did not wish to speak. All you wanted to do was ignore the grief that had settled into your heart. To shove it down, and ignore it. But you couldn't. You and Halsin had become close after you and your rag-tag team of friends had saved the Emerald Grove from the goblins. He had given you advice on how to get to Moonrise Towers, and had offered his aid on the journey. Of course, you had said yes - initially because you knew you'd need all the help that you could get, but as time wore on, and you spent night after night talking with him, you couldn't deny the fact that it was starting to feel like something more was blooming between the pair of you - and Halsin refused to deny it either. Though nothing between you and the druid had been made official to the others, he had told you time and time again; 'When I have righted what has been wronged, and the Shadow curse lifted... Then, we can focus on one another, my heart.' You had thought about those words often - they had spurred you on when you had first entered the shadow cursed lands, knowing that this, this was the place where you could finally end Halsin's century of distress, and fretting.

And yet it had all gone wrong in an instant.

The silence had followed your group into camp, and settled itself amongst you all as if it were a friend, and not some unwanted and unwelcome state. Even Astarion had stopped his quipping and teasing upon seeing your dour expression. He had never seen you in such a state - not even when he had accidentally woken you when he had gone to feed on you one night, almost three months ago at this point. That night you had been mildly disgusted initially, but you were definitely willing to let him feed from you if it was going to help his prowess in battle. You had been optimistic, in truth, despite the dangers. That was something about you that was always apparent, and always had been. Though some of your travelling companions had thought you... Not all there, at first, you had managed to prove quite a few times that you were persistent enough to almost always pull through.

You had made a direct line for your tent, ignoring the attempts of Karlach to approach you, and hopefully comfort you a little bit. The fabric flaps drew together behind you as you retired to your one place of isolation. The tiefling was confused, and a mite hurt, at the fact that you had just completely blanked her. You had never done that before - the worst you had ever done was tell her to stay in camp for a while, and more often than not, you had good reason to do so. Her gaze fell upon Wyll and Shadowheart, two of the companions who had set off with you that morning, before she began to march over, determined to know who or what caused you to become so withdrawn. "What the hells happened out there?!" Karlach could hardly contain the irritation that bubbled in her chest, spilling into her voice. Wyll was the first to speak, his face a mask of self-reproach. "Halsin was trying to retrieve Thaniel - the spirit of these lands..." He began to explain, glancing briefly to Shadowheart, who's lips were fixed in a clear frown. "Right..." Karlach said slowly, "... I'm assuming something went wrong, by the look on everyone's faces..." "... We weren't able to defend the portal he had entered entirely... It collapsed, and... He's gone." Karlach's face fell as it all clicked into place in her mind. That's why you were acting so strange. "... Oh." Was all she could manage. She couldn't even muster up any rage at the circumstance, she was just stunned. She hadn't had a chance to get really close to Halsin, but he was a nice guy, there was no denying it. He had been courteous to all of them - a kind hearted soul, who always lent an ear to anyone who needed it. To Karlach, he had been a good laugh. Most evenings, on the short walk back to their tents, she and him would share a good few jokes with one another before retiring to rest. The loss of the druid would weigh heavily on her, though not as heavily as it would do you. Wyll cleared his throat, glancing towards your tent. "I think I may try and speak with them..." Shadowheart scoffed at this, causing Wyll's head to turn. "Good luck," Were the only words that the half-elf offered him, her voice dripping with sarcasm, before she turned away, marching herself right back to her tent to isolate herself for a while. Karlach followed suit, with nothing of meaning left to say. She meandered back to her own tent, seeking to settle herself down in the mountain of various pillows she had stored in there, to have a good cry.

Wyll did not return to his tent, however. Like he had said, he was going to try and talk with you. Try being the operative word. There had been a handful of times that you hadn't exactly been open to talking with anyone, and Wyll fully expected to be one of those times. He tried to peer through the tiny gap left between the flaps that marked the entrance to your tent, but to no avail. He cleared his throat quietly to announce his presence - but there was no answer from him. He carefully parted the fabric before him, crouching down a bit to get closer to you. Your tent was the smallest out of the whole group's, purely for the reason that, before the adventure began, you didn't have a lot to bring with you. Even now, with so much more to your name, you are more likely to leave some of your belongings with your fellow party members. "Go away." Your voice was low, not quite a threat, but close. "I don't want to talk to anyone, about anything. Leave me be." "You know," Wyll began to speak, completely ignoring your request, "I don't think Halsin would want you to spend any time moping after him..." You started to push yourself up into a seated position. Even in the dark, Wyll could imagine the look on your face; a deep set scowl, eyes narrowed and glaring daggers at the perpetrator who dared disturbed your 'peace'. In this case, of course, that was him. "You have no right to-" "Yes, I do." Wyll's voice was calm, despite your ire. "I'm your friend - one of your closest by your own admission, if I remember rightly..." He said as he crawled into the tent to join you - in the hopes of making you feel a little bit less alone. "I know you and Halsin were close..." Close wasn't exactly the word that the warlock had in mind, but he didn't want to rub salt in the wound. You had lost a man that you loved, and Wyll knew that grief wasn't an easy thing to deal with. "But, we did what we could - defended him and that portal as much as we were able to... He didn't ask for anything more..." "But he did - he asked us for his help to heal the-" "I know... But that was before we got overwhelmed by shadow-cursed harpers, and Gods know what else..." Wyll interrupted. "We did what we could, and he'd be happy with that... Even if we didn't manage to heal the curse..." His voice was tinged with a hint of sadness, despite trying to ease your pain. "He wouldn't want you to sit here, isolating yourself as punishment... But I understand you need time to mourn.. So, how about, tomorrow morning, you and I go for a walk around the outskirts of camp? We can talk all things Halsin.." You consider it for a moment, before nodding quietly. "Good.." Wyll smiled in response to your acceptance - there were times when you could be extraordinarily stubborn. He'd seen it himself at various points on your adventure together, and he was quite glad that he didn't have to be on the receiving end of it. "I'll bring your dinner to you, if you'd prefer not to join the rest of us..." You nod again, and Wyll begins to shuffle out of your tent, leaving you be for the evening.

You didn't join the others for food that evening - not that there was much to join. The group sat mostly in silence as they ate, all starting to feel the absence of their druidic friend. Lae'zel did try to make conversation, having found that her ideals didn't exactly align with Halsin's, she didn't get as close to him as some of the other had done in the same time. However, no one could find it in them to respond, besides Astarion, who snapped at her to stop talking for a moment. Even he was feeling down about the loss of Halsin - even if he had only grown 'fond' of the wood elf because he found him amusing. But the time night had fallen - or at least, what the group had all assumed to be night, as both night and day looked eerily the same under the shadowcurse - everyone had returned to their tents to rest.

The night - like so many before that you had all spent in the shadow-cursed lands - was cold, and very very quiet. The dead branches of various trees clashing against one another were the only sounds to be heard. No birdsong could be heard for miles. That was unless you counted the raspy sounds from the undead birds that sometimes came close to camp. They'd scurry away before they got too close, though. But there was something, off in the distance, that was slowly making it's way closer and closer to camp. Of course, no one was really aware of it until it was right on your doorstep. You had initially thought that the heavy footfall approaching your tent in the middle of your rest was Karlach - she'd often come over to you after a long, hard day. "Karlach," You spoke, your voice slightly muffled against the rough material of your makeshift pillow. "Now really isn't a good time.. Go back to your own tent." You expected to hear the footsteps retreating after this. Karlach was never one to try and encroach your personal space, especially after such a blunt request. However, this wasn't the case with this now unknown intruder. Something twigged in your mind that this might not be someone who meant well. Either that, or Karlach really wanted to have some company. You started to push yourself up onto your elbows, and when your eyes finally managed to focus on the figure slowly starting to crawl it's way into your tent, you could have sworn you heart stopped.

Halsin.

Immediately you were alert - were you still dreaming? No, you couldn't be, it didn't feel... Fuzzy enough, to be a dream. But it never feels like a dream when you're in the middle of it. You hurriedly push yourself into a more upright position, trying to kick the raggedy blankets off of your legs for more freedom of movement. "Halsin-" Your voice caught in your throat, leaving it as little more than a mousey squeak. Your chest felt tight, heavy. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of hope - he was alive! But as your eyes began to focus on the massive form of your once lover, you began to notice that some things were amiss. There were clusters and clumps of some dark mass, something not quite natural. Some of the clumps glowed and flickered with an eerie and dim bluish light, casting a foreboding shadow over your beloved's stoic - and entirely too-still - features. You recognised those growths - the telltale calling card of the shadows when they had wrenched their claws so deep into a living thing that nothing but a husk remained. You had seen it earlier that day; the hundreds of undead harpers, githyanki, dogs and birds that had assaulted you, your party, and the portal that had undone everything for you. The last stage before the host of the growths was devoured, and became nothing more than a shadow doomed to roam the desolated town, caught entirely in their own pain and grief. Though, the thought of that final form was pushed to the very back of your mind just at the moment it had popped in. Surely, though, if Halsin had managed to find your camp, there must be something of him left in there? As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you've moved to rest on your knees, bringing your face closer to his. "Halsin, you're alright..." There's something screaming at you in the back of your mind, telling you that this isn't right, that something is dreadfully, dreadfully wrong, but you elect to ignore it. For once, you just wanted to try and focus on the positive side. "You..." You couldn't quite place what it was about Halsin's voice that felt off to you - was it too deep? Too scratchy? Who cares, he's here, he's home. You didn't have to bear with that godsawful weight in your chest anymore, you could just move on, and think of this whole affair as nothing more than a blip on your adventure. You open your mouth to speak, but Halsin beats you to it. "Failed." His voice was so low it almost sounded like the chords in his throat were rupturing as the words left his lips - or perhaps they already had. It hits you like a stone to the head, and you freeze in place, paralysed by the realisation you should have had much earlier. This was not a dream, and Halsin was in front of you, but, he had been corrupted. Whatever drive he had to get back to you - whether it had originally been love, lust or something else - had now been twisted into something sick, something that longed to make you suffer as it was.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, a thick hand was wrapping around your throat - squeezing, constricting, cutting off your air and your ability to cry out for help. Your hands dart to his wrist to try and alleviate some of the pressure, but you know that there's almost no point. With Halsin's great size, came great strength - you wouldn't be able to easily escape from this, he had the upper hand. You try anyway, clawing at his hand and forearm like a wild animal, trying to break skin and hurt him enough to have him flinch away from you. But that moment never comes. In fact, you could swear that he's applying more pressure to your throat. "Don't. Struggle." The grating voice of Halsin growls at you. You try to tell yourself that it's not him, but of course... the face looming above you would convince yourself otherwise. With the corners of your vision starting to blur and fade, you grow desperate. You begin to thrash and kick at him - and you manage to land a few good blows to the undead elf's ribs and stomach, not that it made much difference to the beast of a druid. You think at one point one of your feet dislodges a pole keeping your tent upright. At least, that seems to be the reasonable explanation for the structure collapsing on the both of you, obscuring your view even more. Your kicks start to weaken as Halsin applies even more pressure to your windpipe, obviously intent on robbing you entirely of your ability to breathe. You stop moving - in part to try and conserve what little oxygen you have left, but also because... What's the point in struggling against Halsin? Not only was he much stronger than you, but he was also... Right. You had failed him, despite the fact that you had tried your damndest to complete the task he had set you. Though it broke your hear to admit it to yourself, there was little you could do to deny it, even with the discussion you had had with Wyll earlier that night.

You had just about given in to the inevitable fate set before you, when the weight pressing down on your neck was just... Gone. You immediately sat up, spluttering as air finally reached your lungs, making you feel light-headed, but promising your survival. "Get the fuck away from them!" Karlach's roar was unmistakable as your scurried to pull the fabric of your tent off of your head to see what was going on; Karlach, greatsword in hand, was moving to swing at the corrupted Halsin - whilst Lae'zel, a determined look on her face, was mere moments away from doing the same, marching over from her own tent to join the fray. Gale was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, quickly," He ushered you over to his tent as he spoke. "Inside, Shadowheart will check you over in a moment," His gaze turned back to Karlach, Lae'zel and Halsin for a moment, watching as the Tiefling and Githyanki lay blow after blow into the flesh of the thing that had tried to kill you. They were only just able to keep him on his knees, and it looked like his skin was shredding where he had been hit. His only sounds acknowledging that he was being attacked were grunts of effort as he tried to through off their hits and get back to his feet - which did not work. He wasn't even bleeding; a greenish-blue liquid dripped languidly from his newly-formed wounds.

"Stop looking, you don't need to see this." Gale told you firmly, taking your shoulder and guiding you more forcibly into the tent. "That's not him, anymore... You know that, yes?" He tries to soothe you. "That wasn't Halsin - just an... Echo of him, if that." Despite his kind words, tears begin to streak down your cheeks. You feel Gale's arms wrap around you, and your legs give out for a moment. You can't do this. It's too much. How is one person meant to handle all of this - the mindflayer tadpoles, the fate and wellbeing of their companions, helping as many people as they can on the way through the environs they must travel - and still walk tall? It is too much of a weight, a burden you can no longer carry. This overwhelming grief is just the straw that breaks the Rothe's back. You don't remember much of what happens after that - besides the sobs that start to wrack your body, making you heave with each breath. Gale lowers you to the floor, and you can vaguely hear him saying something to you, though you can't quite make out the words. You don't try to figure out what they are, though. You just want this to stop - for the emotions that feel too big for your body to just cease, and leave you in peace.

Your companions come and go throughout the night, each taking a turn to sit with you, to try and soothe your sorrows. Nothing really works. After many hours - though it feels like days to you - the tears finally stop falling. You're exhausted, and can't bring yourself to move off of Gale's bedroll; and no one dares to try anyway. It's Wyll who's with you as you finally drift off into an exhausted sleep. He doesn't move to tell the others, though, in case you should wake and need his company. A frown is etched into his features as he watches you - he knows all too well how much this grief can tear someone apart from the inside. He makes sure that you've got a blanket over your shoulders to keep you warm. "Don't you worry... You'll still have us," He whispers, not even caring if you can't hear him. "No matter what, we'll stick by you... And we'll get you through this. For Halsin's sake, not just for yours..."

The druid would have wanted that much for his lover, at least.

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toxxicwrites · 1 month

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Routine Mission- JJK- Gojo x yn platonic Angst/ Major Character Death

It was a routine mission. A grade level three curse. Well within the strengths of a grade 1 sorcerer such as herself. At least it was supposed to be. Upon arriving at the abandoned warehouse Yn sensed something was off. The air held the rustic tang of fresh blood, but most worrying was the silence. Low- level curses were never this quiet. She opened the rusty iron door, its hinges squeaking loudly before being consumed by silence once again. She took a deep breath before entering, steadying her nerves. It was just a routine mission she reminded herself. She could do it by herself as she had done hundreds just like it before. Still, she felt herself longing the presence of a friend in the unsteadying atmosphere, hell she would have even tolerated Gojo- her ridiculously overpowered friend who would have filled the silence with rambling of his accomplishments and other random thoughts he deemed important enough to say out loud (Yn just thought he liked the sound of his own voice). After another hour of searching the premises Yn finally found her target. It’s spiked back was turned toward her, as a multitude of protruding pincers grabbed and ripped at something, the warehouse now echoing with the sickening sounds of gurgling and crunching as Yn peeked her head over and saw the remains of a human body the curse now feasted on. The putrid scene almost caused her to throw up breakfast but she held her wits. It was just a level three curse. But its enormous size left her unsettled. She reached to her back and unsheathed two swords, letting the sound of metal ring out, gathering the curses attention as it slowly turned around with a chattering, clicking noise.

“What-ke ke- do we have -ke- here?” The curses voice rasped holding a mocking tone. Multiple pairs of eyes blinked as the curse stared at her, blood dripping from its mouth or rather the gaping hole that resided in its stomach, expanding and shrinking as it took a breath.

“A-Another jujutsu sorcerer? Kekeke” The curse laughed with a horrible shriek and Yn looked down at the body, shock in her eyes as she registered the jujutsu emblem on the disfigured corpse's chest. Her heart beat faster as she met the creature's eyes again. A rage filled her as it stabbed the body with a pincer, throwing it across the room like a ragdoll.

“I could -ke- go for another snack”

Y/n yelled out as she charged, swords poised for attack. She jumped high bringing the sword down to the curses chest, but in an instant a cursed energy shield blasted out deflecting her attack. Her brow furrowed as the sword bounced off and in her moment of confusion the curse took its change, swinging its arm and sending Yn crashing into a stack of metal crates. Black clouded her vision as she made contact with the metal, denting it in the shape of her body with a loud clang. She blinked the darkness away, groaning as she got up. The creature laughed again. She narrowed her eyes. It was toying with her she could tell. And it was much stronger than a level 3 curse. That was for sure. The fight continued with Yn landing a few blows. But every stab she made grazed the skin, never cutting through the thick cursed energy field despite her own power behind each swing. It left her exhausted and slow. As she was launched across the room for the hundredth time she saw her opportunity. She grabbed a metal barrel, launching it toward the curse. As it swatted it away it didn’t notice Yn running from behind, cutting off five of its pincers. The curse cried out as they fell to the ground, dripping black, oil-like blood. She grinned as she stood on the other side of the creature, wiping a drip of sweat from her brow. The curse howled in pain yelling curses at her in an unknown language.

“Not so funny now are we?” She mused. The curse shrieked, making a mad sprint toward her. She smirked, now the fight was within her playing field. Toying with the curses rage she led it in a mad dash, letting its swings get wilder and wilder until finally she saw an opening to its underbelly, unprotected by the metal like skin of the rest of its body, a weakness. She had an opening then-

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a white haired student. Gojo. She almost cried out in relief- she didn’t know how much longer she could last… Unluckily for her, the moment's distraction provided enough for the curse to make its move. She was falling toward the curse, to its soft underbelly, and then she wasn’t.

“Y/N!” Gojo’s voice yelled out, filled with panic. Y/n felt no pain at first, but her breath was taken away. She remained suspended and she looked down. Eyes meeting the sharp pincer that stabbed through her stomach, the sharp pain now erupting like a volcano.

“Oh” she said with a small voice. The curse threw her across the room like a ragdoll. A soft gasp left her lips as she slammed against the wall. Her vision blurred and she saw the flash of white hair and a blue uniform. She didn’t know how long she sat there, her shaky breaths slowing as blood gushed out of her stomach like a waterfall. Vaguely she recognized the curse getting decapitated by Gojo and him running to her. A small white haired figure and then he was right in front of her. The scent of cotton candy and blood filled her senses.

“No no no,” Gojo mumbled, his hands desperately reaching for hers where they sat, holding what she assumed was her organs in her stomach. His blue eyes were wide, panicking.

“Gojo..” Y/n whispered, it was all she could manage at this point as spots filled her vision and her body felt so so tired.

“Is it-” She took a wheezing breath, “Is it bad?”

No no no no. This couldn't be happening. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He had come too late. It was supposed to be a routine mission and he was just checking up on Yn when he saw the curse stab through it, a bloodied pincer poking through her blue uniform. The curse was anything but a grade level 3, having swallowed two of sukuna’s fingers. And now, he kneeled in front of her, watching as dark red blood gushed out and her breaths became shallow.

“Is it- is it bad? Y/n asked her brows furrowed in pain as a cold sweat arose on her skin. No no no no. It was going to be okay.

“It’s gonna be fine Yn- it's gonna be fine,” He stammered looking into her pleading eyes, “I’m gonna get you to Shoko and you're gonna be fine.”

He began reaching to pick her up but a hand on his chest stopped him.

“Gojo, look at me.”

He looked at her, his expression one of desperation.

“You-” She let out a pained, wheezy laugh, “You are a terrible liar.”

“Please Yn” He pleaded, “We have to go.”

She shook her head, expression pained.

“No-” she mumbled, her head bobbing as she struggled to stay awake, “No just- just please stay here with me- just for a minute.”

He swallowed hard and nodded, meeting her eyes and fighting back the tears in his.

“When we get back can we get sushi?”

“Of course,” Gojo nodded, “Spicy tuna?”

Y/n weakly smiled, her face ghostly pale, “You know it.”

“Just-” She began, eyes closing, “Let me catch my breath for a minute…”

She slumped into his arms and he held her. She smiled against the warmth of his chest. Everything was so cold now, but at least she could feel warmth one last time. She died with a smile in Gojo’s arms. And his heart hardened. Another friend that he, the strongest sorcerer in the world, couldn't save.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #geto suguru #jjk shoko #jjk angst #jjk oneshot #jjk imagines #gojo imagine #gojo oneshot #angst oneshot #angst #anime #gojo x y/n

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lynderman · 2 years

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𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐞? (Vance Hopper) Pt.2

Pairing: Vance Hopper x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 2,055

Date Published: 8/11/22

Description: Vance could break every girl's heart and not bat an eye. So why was breaking yours so much harder for him?

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Vance looked at your tear stained face as he placed his hand on your cheek. He had expected you to welcome the embrace like you normally did. Not to shove it away immediately. He felt a tug at his heart when you asked him that question.

"Why not me?"

He didn't like the immense guilt he felt in that moment. The way his heart seemed to stop as you struggled to breathe through your muffled sobs. He didn't like the way you quickly walked away and into the forest. Away from him. Truthfully, he didn't like himself much in that moment. Was it because he forgot your gift? No, it was because he was publicly humiliated in front of dozens of people. Both of those are wrong. He didn't like himself because he knew he had played you. He knew for years, and never did a single thing about it. Not once. He had dated on and off with tons of girls. He left them crying for him, pleading for him to come back. Vance Hopper could break every girl's heart and never bat an eye. Not once.

So why was breaking yours so much harder for him?

Vance began to speed walk after you, shoving through the rest of your party guests. He made it to the steps until a hand gripped his shoulder. He turned and saw Griffin give him a worried look before shaking his head at him. He didn't want to let you just run into a forest late at night alone. But there was nothing he could do since people swarmed around him soon after. Robin and Billy were sort of shouting things at him, asking how he could be so clueless about you. Donna and Finney looked at him like he was stupid. Gwen was off to the side talking to Quinn, making sure she was ok. Then there was Bruce. Bruce looked livid. Like he wanted to kick Vance to the curb.

"Did you hit your head or something?" Vance watched as Bruce stood up to him. "Huh?" Bruce rubbed his temples as he began to scold Vance. "Vance are you that stupid? That clueless? Did your brain just become as empty as your hair product bottles?" Finney put his arm in front of Bruce. "Bruce. C'mon. This isn't how (Y/n) would want-"

"I don't Give two shits about what (Y/n) would want right now! How would you know? How would Vance know? You know what they would want right now? Hm? They'd want Vance to answer their question. Why not them Vance? Why not (Y/n)?" Vance wanted to answer but he couldn't. He didn't know. He didn't know why any of this was happening. He didn't know why you even liked him. Vance wasn't listening to anyone around him. All he could think about was why he couldn't answer the question.

"You don't deserve them, Vance."

"Excuse me?" He took a step closer to Bruce. "You. Don't. Deserve. (Y/n). It's as simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less." Bruce quickly shut up with a punch to his face. Bruce wiped his bloodied lip, mumbling something to himself. Vance was ready to throw another punch until his mom shouted at him. She came running up to Bruce and examined his face to make sure he was ok. She took the opportunity to chew Vance out. This started another argument. Then Quinn jumped in. Then Robin began shouting at Quinn. Then Gwen started to yell at Robin. Everyone was screaming before Vance walked away. No one seemed to notice. He made his way towards the forest as well.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Vance hadn't made it too far into the forest when he heard the sound of footsteps ahead. He quickened his pace as he called out for his friend. It was hard to look around, as it was past 9:00 at night. He walked a bit deeper into the forest before he heard a yelp. He looked in the direction of the sound. Before he could call out in the night, a scream erupted. It echoed through the forest, followed by even louder ones after. He recognized the scream. It was the same one you had made when you dislocated your knee at the park.

Vance began to sprint in your direction, shoving branches out of his way. He shouted your name louder and louder until he heard you respond.

"VANCE!"

The distress in your voice only seemed to make him run faster. The closer he got, he could see the outline of your shadow kicking and screaming. Someone had a hold of your waist and was attempting to fight you. The person holding you noticed Vance and took that as an opportunity. Vance watched as the culprit took out a can of something and sprayed it in your face, your body seemingly giving up. You were soon thrown into the back of a vehicle, followed by the sound of an engine starting.

He aimlessly chased the Van until he saw it leave through the trails. Shaking and scared, he stood there not knowing what to do. Defenseless and shaking. What could he have done? The only thing he could do now was to tell someone else. So that's what he did. He ran back through the forest, trying to navigate the best he could. By the time he got back, he was out of breath and panting. Small cuts lined his arms from the branches, and Gwen took notice of this. "Vance what's wrong? Are you ok? Where's (Y/n)? Why are-"

"They’re gone."

“What'd you mean gone? Gone as in went home or-" Vance cut her off when he hurriedly walked away trying to find the adults. Your parents and his didn't get a chance to scold him since Vance began to panic. "Did you get (Y/n)?" Vance shook his head. He explained In the best way he could what happened. Your parents looked mortified. Your father ran to his car to drive to police station, while your mom began to frantically make her way to the forest.

Soon all of the guests were searching everywhere. The forest, the amphitheater, the surrounding trails, everything. When your father eventually made his way back, he was in the passengers seat of a cop car. Several cops trailed behind and began to help search. Everyone was looking until the next morning. But that didn't mean everyone stopped. Vance continued the next day despite his mom's concerns. He looked everywhere. The diner, the music shop, the park. Even the back alley's behind the bars. But no one succeeded in the search.

Over the next week, the town mayor had made a public announcement. There was a curfew set out over the town. Children had to walk in pairs. Your parents even put out a $650 reward for anyone who could find you. They rarely slept for the following weeks. Your father sat by the front door every night, waiting for you to walk through the door and set your bags down like usual. But you never did.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following months seemed to go by slower and slower. Nothing felt the same to Vance anymore. His streak of not fighting anyone had ended. He was failing even more classes. Everyone around him seemed to dislike him more. People had accused him of things that he would never do. Sure, he beat a kid to a pulp before, but murdering his own best friend was a bit of a stretch. Quinn still stuck by his side. So did Finney, Billy, and Griffin. But other people didn't bother to spare him a glance.

Things started to escalate when more children were taken. Yet, these were only weeks apart. Whoever was taking the kids had no concern of being caught. After a good 4 months, there were no kidnappings. The town seemed to relax. But how could they? There were 6 missing children and everyone just forgot about them?! Everybody except Vance seemed too. He couldn't forget how he saw you taken right before his eyes.

Nor could he forgive himself.

He couldn't forgive himself for standing there, watching as you were abducted. The way he stood there, the vehicle speeding away. But he mainly couldn't forgive himself for the way he treated you. He soon realized that you were right. Quinn had taken up a lot of his time. Ditching you became a constant routine. You were never invited anymore. There were no more movie nights together. No stargazing. No nothing.

He couldn't forget the look on your face either. The way you looked at him with defeat and hatred. He often tried to push the night of your party out of his head and replace it with more pleasant memories of you. Like the time you taught him how to play guitar in your living room. Or when you came to his recital and threw your arms around him because you were so proud of him. And all the times you would watch the stars and talk about your ambitions in life.

He liked to remember your smile. The way your chipped tooth stuck out to him when you would beam at him. The way you would laugh at the stupidest things. He always found it cute. His favorite thing to remember was the way you held him.The way you welcomed him with open arms despite all his wrong doings. How how you were the only person he ever opened up to. All those times you would Clean his wounds and check up on him after fights. You loved Vance for himself, and he never understood that. All he ever wanted was to be loved. He seemed to forget that you deserved to be loved too.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

One muggy evening, Vance got called downstairs by his mom. He typically would ignore her, but he could hear the chatter of multiple people downstairs. Putting away an old box of polaroids, he got up and made his way to the kitchen. When he turned the corner, he saw the town sheriff, his parents, and Mr. (L/n) all around the table. When the sheriff saw Vance, he went quiet. So did the others. "Look, if this is about the go-go mart then I-"

"We found (Y/n)."

Vance gave the sheriff a confused look before turning to his mom. She wasn't looking at him. She was softly crying into her husbands's shoulder. Vance walked to them and looked out the door, as if he expected you to be waiting outside. "Just…not in the way we hoped to." He added. Vance didn't have to ask for clarification because your father gave it to him. "They found (Y/n)'s body along with the other missing children." Vance froze. "Body?"

The sheriff patted Vance's back as he frowned. "I'm sorry for your loss, son." With that, he said goodbye and left through the backdoor. Mrs.Hopper's sobs became louder as her husband hugged her fully. Vance turned to Mr. (L/n) with shock. He walked over and embraced Vance. "I'm sorry Vance." Vance stood there as he hugged him. He didn't know what to do. This was all his fault. If he had just spent more time with you. If only he had gotten you a birthday present. As Vance stepped back, he couldn't help but cry.

"I'm sorry Vance. I know how close the two of you were. You meant a lot to my kid. And I'm very grateful that you were there for them till the end. I don't want you to blame yourself either. It wasn't your fault. Nothing was. You're just a kid. You did everything in your power to help, and that means everything to our family. I know that (Y/n) would forgive you. So I hope one day you can forgive yourself as well."

The backdoor hit the frame as Mr. (L/n) left. Vance's parents hugged him as he silently cried into their arms. He wanted to say goodbye. He wanted to turn back time and tell you how much he appreciated you. How much he cared for you. How much he loved you. His crying turned into whimpers as his mother hugged him tightly. Why did it have to end this way? Why were you taken? Why not him?

Why didn't he choose you?

#robinsrelic #tbp #theblackphone #reader insert #x reader #vance hopper x reader #oneshot #angst #angst oneshot #Vance hopper

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khujoor · 1 year

Text

you left me. (scaramouche)

a/n: will upload the scara series ch 1 soon!!

tw: heavy angst, mentions of abuse, depression.

"scaramouche," you said, bitterly. you rarely used his full name, always choosing a nickname for him instead. but today, you couldn't.

he left you. you were at the brink of dying, but he left you. your family was harming you, physically and emotionally. you asked scaramouche for help, but he just stood there.

eventually, he ran from you. he left you there, constantly being harmed. he didn't ever call the police, or someone you knew you could trust.

"i'm sorry, i know i screwed up, but i'll be better," he was crying almost, but it felt fake.

"i can't. you know how much i trusted you. i told you everything, but you left me. you didn't even get help for me," tears begun rolling down your cheeks, your lip quivering.

"what if you leave me again? what if i get in a similar situation and you just leave me?"

"i promise i won't y/n, i'll never leave," he said, wiping your tears.

"but scara," you stayed silent for a moment, needing to stop crying, "how do i know you're not lying?"

#scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scara #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer #wanderer #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #heavy angst #tw angst #tw depression #tw abuse #angst drabble #angst oneshot #scarakuzush1

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yuidelrey · 5 months

Text

My Death Journey

TW: Depression, mentions of self-harm, angst

A/N: This is a little oneshot I wrote from the perspective of Yui. It is depressing and can be quite triggering for some readers. Please turn away if mentions of SH.

Night in and night out, droplet after droplet, Yui was always left crying alone. Wallowing away in her own self-pity and sorrow. Every day was a reoccurring nightmare. Wake up, get mauled by bloodthirsty monsters, then cry once they were gone. All Yui ever seemed to do nowadays was cry and pray while cooped up in her room.

“God, please. Kill me. Kill me and rebirth me. Give me another chance.”

Yui's eyes were shut tightly, head bowed, and hands tightly pressed together as she prayed to her god. Scabbed callouses renewed as bloody lacerations and her knees stung from the dust in the carpet; though Yui was unphased. She hadn’t felt physical pain in weeks. The pain in her heart outweighed the physical pain by a long shot. Before she knew it, tears as big as pearls were sliding down her pale face, moistening the skin of her cheeks before dropping onto her trembling hands.

"God," Yui whispered. "Please. If you hear me, please save me. Take my pain away. Death would be a kinder sentence than continuing to live." Tears slipped between her lips, filling her mouth. The taste of salty sadness wasn't unfamiliar to her. It was almost comforting. It was something they couldn't take from her.

How long had it been since she’d arrived? Yui could no longer remember. In fact, she couldn’t remember a lot of things. The only thing she could ever think about was the undying need to disappear. She didn’t care if she gained freedom by escaping or dying. Death was at the top of Yui’s bucket list. She counted each living day, praying for the day God will grant her the gift of death.

Yui had only hoped god had taken pity on her. She knew the vampires never would. Her deteriorating mental health was becoming exceedingly obvious. The once bubbly blonde had dulled out completely. Her skin seemed colorless, and her hair was limp and tangled. Faded fang marks were covered with small horizontal cuts. She hadn’t dared to cut vertically, in fear that she would upset her god.

Suicide was a mortal sin, but perhaps God would forgive her this once.

#yui komori #diabolik lovers #one shot #girlhood #angst oneshot #teen angst #dialovers #diaboys #komori yui

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jomamaofficial · 10 months

Note

Not sure if u do all Mha characters but could u do an all might angst of him having a daughter he doesn’t pay attention much too?

The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Anon, I’m not going to lie, when I first read this request, I was like ehh… idk if I’ll enjoy writing that. And then I actually sit down and write it, and I’m like, WHAT IN THE WORLD, WHY AM I SO INVESTED IN THIS. So anon, you are a genius and you made my day with this request <3. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. TW: Mentions of blood. Masterlist Edit: Part 2 Word Count: 3548. Summary: Adopted by All Might at the age of five, Toshinori Y/N was being trained to become the ninth user of One For All. With the quirk Element which gave you the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth, you were set for victory in the hero-society. However, after your quirk was stolen, your path led astray, the clear neglect was getting obvious, day by day, as your father found a new student to mentor.

——————————————————————————————————

The phone didn’t even ring for a second and he had already picked it up.

“Y/N, my child, could you get the door? Midoriya-Shounen has come to visit.”

Silently, you obeyed your father as you promptly left your work.

Midoriya Izuku. It was a popular name in the Toshinori household. His name managed to sneak into every dinner conversation, and every evening walk.

And now, he was just outside the door, seconds away from intruding your peace.

You released a breath, fingers on the door handle. Your shoulders dropped down low and you straightened your spine, standing an inch or two taller.

It was finally time to meet him.

So with your best rehearsed smile that still didn’t reach your eyes, and your well rehearsed speech playing continuously in your suffocating mind, you opened the door.

A bouquet of flowers and an earnest grin– this was the first time you met Midoriya Izuku.

A few seconds passed as both of you stood still, your throat running slightly dry as you saw confusion build up in the young man’s face.

“Um”, he took a gulp and stepped back. “I’m looking for the Toshinori household…?”

You blinked at him before clearing your throat.

“Yeah, you’re at th- um, yeah this is- I mean, I am-”

“Midoriya-Shounen!”

A loud and hearty voice greeted the young boy with a warm hug, apron on, spatula in one hand. You winced as you rubbed the shoulder your father swiftly brushed past.

You pressed your lips together as you stood beside the embracing pair, hands behind your back as you hid them further into your sweater.

“Five minutes early as always, my boy! Come on in!”

With an excited nod, the boy stepped inside the house, slipping his shoes off into the side of the genkan before following your father into the living room.

Unspoken words remained discarded in your mouth.

And they led, and you followed.

“You have a lovely house, All Might! I was really afraid I was going to run late. I had a bit of a heart attack when someone else opened the door… I thought I took down the wrong address, my mother told me it would happen but I was so surprised that I didn’t even think to confirm it beforehand or anything and it was so-”

“Midoriya-Shounen, please. Relax,” Toshinori chuckled, resting his hand on the worried boy’s shoulders. “You are here now. Please, sit down.”

Midoriya ran his hand to the back of his hair, sheepishly rubbing it as he took a seat across from you. His cheeks became flushed as his fingers adjusted the neck of his sweater.

Toshinori rushed into the kitchen without another word, grabbing a plate of meticulously placed mochi in one hand, and a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of water in the other.

Midoriya immediately got up as he saw his mentor struggle through the narrow doorway, extending his arms to take the tray from him.

They set the delicacies on the glass table, and without being told, Midoriya placed three coasters that were piled on the side of the table. His nimble hands made quick work of removing the glasses and pitcher from the tray.

“Always a step ahead, my son!” Toshinori commended with a proud grin that stretched across his tired face.

You moved to the side to make space for your father, tensing your legs so you could cramp yourself in the tiny corner of your tiny sofa.

‘My son’.

You watched as your father approached you, a glass of water in hand. Your eyes brightened.

But your fingers barely brushed the cold glass before your father walked past you.

The loud shut of the door shut the sparkle in your gaze and your jaw seized as you observed Midoriya, who moved to the side for your father who sat in the remaining space.

Your hands immediately guarded the sliver of your exposed neck, the pads of your finger rubbing against your collarbone.

Their lengthy conversation bled into a distance, and like a required prop, you just sat in the corner, spacing out onto the clear surface of the table that stood in between, dividing the pride and the disappointment.

Your lips became dry as the shallow inhales and exhales latched onto the chapped skin of your lips.

Water.

You needed water.

But the only glasses in the room glared back at you, half-empty.

“Oh, I’m sorry… Did I take your glass by mistake?”

Midoriya caught on quickly, his eyebrows furrowing apologetically.

You opened your mouth, drawing a breath in until-

“Fret not Midoriya-Shounen, the glass was yours. I must have forgotten to bring the third glass, there wasn’t enough space on the tray, you see.”

Your father had responded once again. And your unspoken words were discarded before they could even be said.

“Y/N, go get yourself a glass, if you please. And on your way, maybe refill the jug too?”

Midoriya stood up with the jug in his hand, “allow me to help you Toshinori-san!”

“Ah nonsense, she can do it herself, my son.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, your father sat Midoriya back down. “We don’t need to ruin the flow of our conversation, young man! We have much to speak about.”

Midoriya tensed his brows as his gaze lowered. But in the end, with a curt nod, he settled into the comfort of his seat and the jug was placed back on the coaster.

Hours passed. Evening twilight wound into night darkness. The bags under Toshinori’s eyes held greater weight, yet his dark vacant eyes held the reflection of the green-haired man in front of him, gleaming in a halo of pride.

It wasn’t until Toshinori’s lungs gave way to a bloody cough that the pair realised that the jug was empty.

It wasn’t until the pair halted their conversation, glasses in hand, that they realised that the sofa in front of them was empty.

After the last few finishing touches, you stepped back with a breath of relief; your aching hips required some support from your hands, but the corners of your mouth twitched.

An infectious pride was blooming in the depths of your chest, painting a ray of sunshine onto your cloudy face. The apples of your cheeks, full and bare; the crinkle of your eye, unfamiliar but genuine. You held your chin up high with your sleeves rolled to your elbows.

“It looks amazing, Y/N-chan!”

You basked in the sonorous sound of your supervisor, who had just stepped besides you.

“This is revolutionary, Y/N-chan, it truly is… I expected one or two sketch designs, but you… I have no words for how proud I am…”

Your lips turned upwards as you met your supervisor’s eyes, beaming her a wide grin before turning back to your exhibition where before you, set delicately, was the accumulation of two years of hard work.

Five scaled down prototypes of iron suits were set on display– standing tall and noble. Each suit was paired with leaflets in their respective stands, with a bold font printed across the face: ‘The Iron Suit and the Quirkless Hero’.

“I couldn’t afford any mistakes sensei… I just couldn’t. This was my dream. It’s been my dream since I was a child...”

And your inner child couldn’t let it go.

So you grabbed her tiny hand, and pulled her far away from her sorrows, protecting her, nourishing her.

The manifestation of the first quirk was regarded as a mystical phenomena; straight out of a sci-fi movie. But as time passed, quirk manifestations spread into common reality. ‘Professional Heroes’– a profession that would have garnered snickers and laughs a century ago, became the most sought after job globally. As the occurrence of a quirk grew, the government instilled quirk academies to scout the best and strongest quirk. Businesses began funding them when the first few heroes were churned out, and so the race to become the number one hero began from age five for many families.

Like all races, it was a test of strength, endurance, and resilience. It wasn’t for the faint of heart, and only the most courageous could join it.

But there were some who just couldn’t join the race? Not because they didn’t want to, no. But because they didn’t even have the legs to reach the starting line.

Toshinori Y/N was adopted by Toshinori Yagi at the age of five. And already, by such a young age, you were sprinting far far ahead.

Your quirk was Element– the ability to control all four classical elements: Air, Water, Fire, and Earth. Your father watched as he created the most powerful vessel for his ultimate goal: to turn his daughter into the ninth user of One For All.

You had the motivation, you had the strength.

You were thrown head-first into the twisted fate of hero society where nothing could bring greater joy than breaking yourself in the name of progress.

Hero society was a place where the pain of training was the sweetness of improvement, and the scars and fractures were the evidence of determination.

So one fateful day as all good things came to an end, you were walking back home, hair pulled back in two pigtails with a kitty lunchbox in one hand. A bag way too big hung on your ten-year-old shoulders, and your quirk was ripped away, gone forever.

The planes of the neighbourhood harboured pained screams of a disturbed soul that haunted every passing parent for the next two months.

Your legs were torn away in the middle of the race. And all you could do was stare at the passersby who mocked you as you tried to contain your spilling blood in order to survive.

Your smile faded and the storm had returned. Your memories were a recurring nightmare.

And you couldn’t wake up from them.

“Your father will be so, so proud of you, Toshinori-san.”

“Mmm…”

You pressed your lips together, lowering your eyes.

“I know he’ll be proud of you.”

You felt her comforting hand squeeze yours.

“Yes, sensei. He will be.”

Hours went past since your exhibition started. Countless people and countless pats on the back. It was a haze.

“Your call has been forwarded to the automated messaging sys-”

“For god’s sake.”

You cut the phone.

The lines on your forehead deepened as the number of missed calls grew.

Where was he?

Mentally, you replayed this morning’s conversation with your father. You had vividly remembered that you told him three times: “my exhibition is at five, dad. Please don’t be late.”

You had set alarms on his phone with small reminders attached to them: one at 4:00 PM, one at 4:15 PM, and one at 4:30 PM.

Where was he?

Your heart beat a bitter drum as you watched some fathers with roses in one hand whilst the other was pressed against their hips as they gasped for air.

“I couldn’t be late for my angel’s exhibition now could I?”

It was 9:00 PM.

The crowd had died down and you watched as they drained out: proud fathers holding their daughter’s hand, embracing them in unconditional love. Your once eager eyes were tired, exhausted from searching and scanning for the only face you had internally begged for.

Had you not expected it, you would have cried.

Your thumb hovered over your father’s name on your phone, hesitant.

But there was no point. You switched your phone off.

“Hana,” you asked the few friends that were left, “can you help me pack my things please?”

The pitch black darkness dragged the walk back to the nearest bus station. With your hands occupied with bags that contained the remains of your exhibition, periodically, you peered at the dimly-lit empty street behind you.

The street lights flickered sporadically, teasing your lone steps that were getting faster and faster.

The bus ride home was fine. You met a few friends waiting at the stop with their parents. Although when alone on the outer seat, hood still up, your eyes may have lingered too long at the napping daughters resting their head on their smiling fathers’ shoulders.

Your stop approached in forty-five minutes.

It was 10:36 PM when you got off the bus. The usual hustle of your neighbourhood had settled, so it wasn’t too hard to spot a head with green, curly hair leisurely walking towards your bus stop.

“Midoriya-kun?”

The young boy lifted his head from his phone to look around.

You gave him a hesitant wave, receiving a warm smile in return.

“Toshinori-san?” he asked, taking off his earphones.

“Uh, yeah, it’s me.”

You shoved your hands in your pockets.

“Wha- what are you doing here?” you blurted, staring at the ground.

The abrasive nature of your words caused Midoriya to stand straighter. He blinked a few times before answering.

“Oh um, All Might called me over for a chat. He told me you weren’t home so he said it would be a good chance to discuss more… things?”

The young boy ended his sentence with a wavering voice, getting quieter as he saw your body stiffen.

In the moments of your wordless exchange, a warm ache began to develop in the walls of your skull.

Midoriya’s gaze, which was travelling to and fro, fixed upon the bags hanging from your wrists.

“How about you? Um… Where did you come back from?”

Your mind tried to console your heart, hushing the bubbling feelings of resentment towards the boy in front of you.

You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders drop low.

You were tired.

“I came back from an exhibition.”

“Oh really? Were you presenting? Is that what the bags are for?”

Your lips found themselves smiling at Midoriya’s observation.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “they have my exhibition prototypes in them.”

Your ears perked up at the approaching sounds of relaxed footsteps.

“May I see them please?” Midoriya asked.

Finally, you lifted your head to meet his eyes.

You mumbled, passing him the bag with your prototype inside. “Yeah… sure.”

Minutes passed in complete silence. Timid glances found themselves analysing the look on Midoriya’s face, who was carefully reading the contents of your pamphlet, cross-checking it with your prototype. You felt a warm flush on your cheeks as the boy looked up at you, eyes wide and bright.

“You made this? By yourself?”

He was baffled: eyebrows raised, eyes twinkling. You pressed your lips together in attempts to hide your grin as you nodded.

“It took me two years.”

Midoriya carefully placed your prototypes back into their respective boxes, passing the bag back into your hands.

“I didn’t expect this at all- I mean, of course, you’re All Might’s daughter but just, being quirkless and everything? I just-” his expressive face comforted yours.

“You’re so cool, Toshinori-san. You’re so cool!”

The swells of your cheeks began hurting as you stared at Midoriya, your waterline becoming annoyingly emotional.

“Thank you, Midoriya-kun…”

“Please,” he chimed, “call me Izuku.”

You let out a chuckle just this once, sneaking a swipe to wipe the corner of your eyes.

“In that case, please call me Y/N.”

Izuku’s wide grin ignited a mellow flame in your disappointed heart. You cursed your heart for every ill thought that crossed your mind about the boy that stood in front of you.

“I am honoured to meet a brilliant mind like yours Y/N-san… The amount of lives this can save… The amount of innocent lives this can protect from harassment… You’re amazing Y/N-san,” he repeated, bowing down.

You blushed, your hands immediately reaching out towards the young boy to lift him up, “oh, Izuku-kun, please don’t bow…”

“My younger self thanks you Y/N-kun…” he whispered.

There was a small crack in his soft voice.

Your eyebrows twitched and the cold air travelled through the small opening in your mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘younger self’...?”

Midoriya’s big green eyes were frosted on the surface. He straightened his back, staring off into the distance.

“I’m sure your father told you, Y/N-san”, he cleared his throat.

“I was born quirkless.”

Your fingers felt cold.

“Quirkless…?”

“Yes. I was born quirkless. The doctors didn’t know what caused it. My parents had a quirk. My mother can float small objects towards her. And my father has a powerful quirk: fire breathing.”

His voice began quivering and the young boy had to take a pause.

“All I wanted as a young child was to become All Might. I still do, to be honest. I had a little All Might onesie. And my mother bought me all the All Might action figures. I would play hero with her. She used to act like a citizen in distress and for that short amount of time, I was her hero. And that led to me wanting to become everyone’s hero.”

His tears reflected the moonlight waning in the sombre sky.

“I was five years old when I was told my dreams were basically worthless. That I should give up… and become a police officer.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, hiding your hands inside your pockets.

“I didn’t eat for three days. I couldn’t stomach anything, so at some point, I-I guess I ended up fainting, and my mom had to rush me into the ER.”

Two bodies stood underneath the cold, clinical street light, incredibly still.

But the loud noises pinched you to disturb the silence.

You had to know.

“But… what about your quirk now?”

The door creaked open into a fully-lit living room. Toshinori was sitting in front of the television, phone in hand, swiping through his texts.

Trays and glasses– two glasses exactly– were lazing on the table with cubes of melting ice piled up on the bottom. The cushions were moved to the side, and the couch covers relaxed comfortably with deep wrinkles.

An unnoticed figure slipped inside the house and Toshinori felt two eyes settle onto him.

“Y/N, when did you come back?”

Nothing.

“My child,” he stood up, reaching towards your shoulder.

You shrugged his hand off as soon as it touched you, lost in the voices consuming your mind.

“Y/N! What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s eleven.”

“What do you-”

“It’s eleven!”

Your father’s body tensed as he stepped back, his brows knitted in pain and confusion.

Your throat, strained and dry, struggled to find words as it battled against the bitter rise of bile.

Your jaw trembled as your eyes burnt with unshed tears in the now blurring room. The cries of betrayal felt so weak. What should have been anger– a hellflame spreading throughout your house, came out a sniffle and singular tear. Anger that should have engulfed the sounds in the room and overpowered the drone of the television and the tick of the passing time was nothing but suppressed by the overbearing eyes that scrunched in concern.

“What do I have to do to get you to pay attention to me, dad? What do I have to do…” you weeped, your hands consoling your own body because no one else present could.

The cries of betrayal felt so weak because it was someone else’s incompetency, someone else’s fault that pained your wailing heart. And the cries of a wailing heart begging to be loved was a silent sound that overpowered all sense of self.

“What does he have that I don’t, dad? What did he do that I failed to do?”

You broke down into his arms. You found refuge despite his false embrace; it repulsed you because you knew it was going to be short-lived.

It was a fake.

“Why did I have to find out that my father was quirkless from someone else’s mouth?”

You felt his chest fall as your father squeezed you tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dad?” you whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Am I not worthy enough… Was I not worthy enough to find out?”

Your ears preened, begging for reassurance, begging to hear: ‘that’s not true my child’.

But it never came.

“I’m sorry for not being strong enough, dad… I’m sorry for letting him steal my quirk, dad.”

You tore away from his chest, sniffling away your tears for the last time.

“But why didn’t you tell me that One For All could work with quirkless too?”

Toshinori crossed his hands in front of him as he averted his gaze from yours.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Was I not good enough! Am I so weak without my quirk? That you blindly gave your power away to a boy you met a day ago! Dad, look at me!” you screamed, far too lost to control yourself. “Why couldn’t you give it to me, your own goddamn daughter? What did I not do dad, what did I not do!”

Why did All Might extend his hand to save Midoriya, when his daughter gave up her whole life to burn for his dreams?

His silence spoke a thousand words, so it was about time you spoke your final words.

“You’re a great hero, dad. But that’s all you’ll ever be… you’ve been a great hero but you’ll never be a great dad.”

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t-h-e-seance-tua · 19 days

Text

I'm sorry (JATP One shot)

So here we go, turns out this has been sitting in my google drive for a while. I found it last night and finished it off. It might seem a little rushed, but time passes differently when you are in danger.

What actually happened after Luke, Alex, and Reggie ate those street dogs?

It was the tingling in his hands he noted first, it had started not long after he grabbed the hot dog.

He wished he hadn’t ignored it.

If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

He was kneeling beside Alex, who was screaming in pain. He was the first affected. He said his throat felt funny only one bite into the hot dog, now his throat was being burnt.

“Can someone call 911!” Luke tried to call out, but was starting to feel his own throat starting to burn. He watched as the man who had sold him the hotdogs pulled out his cell phone.

“Alex, hang on. They will be here soon!” Luke tried to comfort him. Alex didn’t reply, he couldn’t reply. He was curled up on his side, clutching his stomach. Suddenly, he began violently vomiting with no signs of stopping. He continued vomiting until splashes of red turned into a river of red.

“The hot dogs must have h-had battery acid on them,” Reggie said behind Luke. Luke turned to look at him and noticed he had started sweating. Luke could tell that Reggie wasn't okay, that the front he was seeing was fake. A pit started forming in Luke’s stomach as he realised this was serious. Luke tried to form words but suddenly was overtaken by a stabbing pain in his stomach. It came on so suddenly and painfully that he let out a scream.

“Luke!” Reggie yelled, worried for his friend. Luke tried to take deep breaths, to tame the pain but it didn't work. Instead, he put on a fake smile to make sure he didn't worry Reggie.

This can't be happening

“I'm all good, go, grab my drink. Quickly rinse your mouth out.” Luke told him, hoping it would rid Reggie's mouth of the battery acid.

Reggie nodded his head. He went to stand up but instead crumbled onto his knees before falling forward.

“Reggie!” Luke called out before making his way over, clutching his side. Reggie never responded. He felt down to Reggie’s chest and noted that it was rising and falling very slowly.

How was this happening? What was going on?

Luke tried shaking Reggie awake but he wouldn’t stir. He desperately tried pushing himself up from the ground to try and get back to Alex who had also fallen silent. His arms shook before his body collapsed onto the cold, damp street.

His mind began to run through everything. Everything he regretted. This was meant to be the biggest night of the career, of their lives. Instead, the young boy was lying face down in the dirty street, praying the pain would stop.

Why did he have to be so stubborn with his mom? He knew she only wanted what was best for him. After all, he was her only child.

Oh my god, mom.

Luke had suddenly had the realisation that he could quite possibly die on this street, and his mom would never know. His mom; the one that brought him into this world. The one that coaxed him from across the living room to take his first steps. The one that held tightly onto his hand as he walked into school on his first day. The one that bought him his first guitar. The one that had been there when Shirley, Luke’s first love, had broken his heart. The one who wanted the best life for Luke. The one that was worried that playing in a band wouldn’t support him enough on his own. His mother.

An anguished sob escaped his chest that hurt even more than the battery acid in his throat. He was so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed the figure walking towards him.

“Hey kid. You’re okay,” The figure tried to comfort him. The figure mimed taking in deep breaths, which Luke mimicked and stopped his sobbing. “What’s your name kid?”

“Luke,” He whispered, trying his best to curl up in a ball hoping to relieve the pain in his stomach.

“Luke, don’t you worry. We are going to get you sorted.” The figure said to him. He could feel something placed over his face.

"My mom, I need my mom." He cried again.

“Don’t worry, we will contact her when we get to the hospital,”

“No, she doesn’t know where I am.” He tried to say under the mask. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that when he opened them he would wake up at home. He could feel his body being moved onto something softer, and he gathered that he must have been loaded into the back of an ambulance.

The figure continued checking him over, and asking him questions that seemed silly for the situation.

What's your name? How old are you? What's the date today? What time is it roughly?

Luke laid there in the stretcher, shivering even though he was covered in blankets as the person continued to ask him questions. When there was a lull in the questions, he quickly jumped in.

“The other guys, where are they?” Luke finally got to ask the figure a question.

“They are being looked after by my buddies, don't you worry.”

The figure continued to poke and prod Luke. Just when Luke thought the pain was going away, another wave rippled through. He felt as if it was ripping his throat apart. Was it ripping his throat apart?

He screamed out in pain and tried to desperately roll onto his side, hoping he could curl up and lessen the pain.

“I'm sorry kid, you've got to stay on your back."

“Please make it s-stop, please I'm b-begging you!” He screamed.

“I've already given you morphine, I can't give you anymore.”

“P-Please, I want my mom,” he cried, trying to move out of the figure's grasp.

“Don't you worry kid, she'll be here soon. We are just pulling up to the hospital now.” The figure told him. He could hear the unclicking of seat belts, and parts of a static voice in the background.

“Attention all units that attended Sunset Boulevard. This is an update that one of the patients-”

“Alright kid, let's go,” the figure announced, loud enough to drown out the radio. Luke opened his eyes to see now 2 figures working around him, getting him ready to offload.

“I'm gonna be sick,” Luke whispered, but one of the figures heard him and quickly gave him a bag just in time to catch his stomach's contents. The figures seemed to work quickly now at getting the stretcher out of the truck, and rushing towards a set of doors, all while Luke continued the throw up. He dropped back down onto the bed, closing his eyes. He was too tired to open them as he was wheeled into the emergency room.

“3 young males, found in an alleyway after accidentally ingesting battery acid. This is Luke, he has been alert and oriented the whole time,” The paramedic began to say as Luke felt himself being wheeled in before they dropped their tone, in a way so they hoped that Luke couldn’t hear

“I’ve just received word from the other crews who should be here soon. One of the males has been unconscious and convulsing since they arrived on scene, the other male has died on route here."

If the pain in stomach wasn’t enough, Luke could now feel his heart shattering.

“W-What do you mean they died? They couldn’t have. Who was it?” He yelled. All they did was turn and stare at him. Luke pushed himself up, trying to escape the gurney, only to be pushed back down by much stronger hands.

“Please, son. You can’t get up,” An older male said. “I’m Dr Macburn, I’m going to do all I can to save you and your friend.”

He knew that these words were meant to bring him comfort, but instead he burst into tears as the reality of potential death set in.

“I need my mom, please,” He whispered through tears.

“We are trying to get a hold of your Mom, Luke. Don’t worry, she will be here,” The older Dr said, holding onto the young boy’s hand.

Suddenly and without warning, Luke began to vomit. He screwed his eyes up and quickly turned to his side, trying to rid the bile but finding it hard to breath. He felt a tube go into his mouth and suck what was remaining. When he opened his eyes, he looked down and saw the stain that should have been green from bile was actually red.

He laid back down and sighed.

“Ring theatres, he is going to have a scope and then a laparotomy, to find out what is happening. We will most likely have to perform a tracheotomy too.” Dr Macburn called out to someone else, Luke was too tired to even open his eyes to see. “I want you to keep a watch on how much blood he vomits. He is obviously bleeding in his gastrointestinal track.”

“Sir, the other kid. I think we are about to lose him too.”

Luke could hear screaming as his mind swam through his thoughts.

What was going on?

Who was the other one on the way?

Who-

He didn’t want to think that thought.

Who was the one that had already died?

“You’re okay, you’re safe. Your mom will be here soon,” A voice tried to soothe him, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from, his eyes scrunched closed as if it was going to help stop the pain. The voice grabbed his arms and tried to rub them in a soothing manner. “Please, stop screaming. You’re okay. We are going to take care of you.”

Screaming? Was he screaming? That was when he realised the screams he had heard before were in fact his own.

He opened his eyes to see that a young nurse had been the owner of the voice trying to comfort him. He could see it in her eyes, she was worried for him. Did she think he was going to die?

“Please help me. Please don't let me die. Please,” Luke cried, grabbing the nurse's hand, not wanting her to leave him. “P-Please, I want my mom. She doesn't know where I a-am.”

“We've called your mom, she's on her way. She'll be here soon,” the nurse told him, brushing the hair out of his face.

He closed his eyes, imagining that the hand running through his hair was his mother's. Through his sobs, he let out a little whisper: “I'm so sorry, mom.”

Luke could feel his throat closing, he thought it was because he was about to cry but it wasn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he could not take deep enough of a breath. He opened his scared eyes and tried to look for the comforting voice from before, hoping they would help. As soon as he made eye contact with the nurse who was still trying to comfort him, she knew something was wrong.

“Sir, he’s stopped breathing!”

“We are going to have to perform the tracheotomy now! Grab the equipment!”

He closed his eyes again, trying to forget the pain and drown out the yelling that was happening around him. It was if he could feel how close death was, and he actually was wishing it would happen soon. He questioned every decision he had made in his life that led to this moment; dying alone knowing that at least one of his friends was already dead, and the other on the brink of death too.

It was at this moment, he noted the cold feeling spreading across him, as if it was the grim reaper himself wrapping the poor young boy in his arms.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” was all Luke could whisper as the darkness overtook him.

♡

I apologise for any emotional distress this one shot has caused 😂

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms one shot #jatp fanfic #jatp one shot #luke paterson #julie molina #alex mercer #reggie peters #this will make you sad #why do i do this shit #why do i do this to myself #angst oneshot #julie and the phantoms angst #jatp angst #fanfiction #fanfic

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agent-calivide · 3 months

Text

Wrote a new IEYTD oneshot!

This is whump, please check the tags before reading!

Though, if anyone has a tag they feel I should add please let me know! I'm feel like I'm missing some but can't for the life of me think of any more.

#i expect you to die #ieytd #ieytd fandom #angst fanfic #angst oneshot #whump fanfiction

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jakeyzzz · 7 months

Text

new beginnings...

( angst/fluff) jay, jake x f!reader oneshot

masterlist ✿⁠

warnings! - { heartbreak, crying, swearing, reader struggling to move on, slight crack, kissing, hugging, fluffy ending ! } !! not proofread !!

!!! let me know if I missed anything

!!! english is NOT my first language so please be nice ♡

( a/n ! : this story is inspired by a german song called scheine zählen ! )

♡ 2.5 k words ! ♡

...

You wanted him to be happy.

No... you needed him to be happy. That's the only Reason why you left him.

You wanted to be in his arms so bad. You wanted to kiss him so bad. But thinking about it made you feel selfish. You knew you were no good for each other, and breaking up was probably the best option for you two. But now you were all alone in your cold room, staring at the dried roses Jay once gifted you when you started dating. Your gaze was empty, and your heart felt heavy. It felt weird not having him around. Jay was your first love. And even though you hurt each other a lot, you knew that you would always love him. And he would always love you. Jay felt the exact same way in that moment. He had no idea how he was supposed to love someone else one day. He was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, softly choking on his tears as he thought about all the things he wanted to say to you. He didn't even think twice before taking his phone to send you a text. Texting you probably wasn't the best idea in that moment, but he needed you to know how much he loved and appreciated you before you both go back to strangers. He knew it would happen someday.

Jay : Y/N ... I never wanted to lose you. And I'll miss everything about you, but we both know we're better off without each other. I need you to know how sorry I am for everything that happened between us. I know you're sorry as well, and i forgive you. I really want you to be happy. I want to see you smile. And i hope you end up finding someone who loves you as much as I do. I'll miss you, but I'll be okay as long as you're happy. You deserve to be happy. And I need you to know, that the very last kiss we shared earlier means everything to me. I know we weren't perfect, but i loved you with all my heart. And I'm sorry I wasn't able to show you that. I promise you mean so much to me, and you always will ! I love you so much, Y/N. We'll be alright ...

You were silently reading the text with tears in your eyes. You and Jay were over. And you had no idea if you're ever gonna see him again.

,,Goodbye Jay...'' You whispered to yourself, holding your phone close to your chest.

You knew you needed to move on. You needed to heal. And you knew, that it would take a lot of time. Because you did love him. And you did miss him. A lot.

6 months later...

Things were going alright. You haven't talked to Jay since your breakup ... he was gone.

You met someone new. His name was Felix. But he didn't laugh like Jay. He didn't kiss like Jay. His skin wasn't as soft as Jay's. He held you in his arms, but his hugs weren't as warm and comforting as Jay's.

He made you miss him. And that's when you realized, you weren't over your Ex Boyfriend yet. You felt incredibly guilty for feeling this way .. but you couldn't help it. You missed Jay so much. You missed the way you would cuddle on the backseat of his car and just talk for hours. You missed the way he touched you. You even missed the arguments you had with him, and the way you would make up after.

Felix couldn't make you feel the way Jay made you feel. So when Felix asked you to be his Girlfriend, you rejected him. You felt like an asshole. But your heart and soul was longing for Jay, and you couldn't do anything about it. You needed more time to heal. And you had no intention of hurting Felix. You didn't want him to feel useless or weird. So you decided to be honest to him. He deserved better ... he was a good guy after all. Jay still felt the same Way about you. But things were easier for him. He had a big group of friends who would cheer him up whenever he felt down. It didn't always help, but he still appreciated them. Because he caught himself missing you as well. It was hard staying away from you, but he knew he needed to stay strong.

another 4 months later...

You were slowly healing. You got back in touch with an old friend you met in kindergarten a long time ago. He was also a good friend of Jay. Jake. It was nice having him around. He was good at cheering you up whenever you cried, and his hugs were the absolute best. Plus, he was an amazing friend to you.

,,I'm bored. Wanna do something ?...'' Jake asked, watching you stare at the ceiling tiredly.

,,I kinda wanna stay in bed ...I'm feeling kind of depressed today ''

Jake furrowed his eyebrows. ,,Why's that ?'' He asked , sounding worried.

You only shrugged your shoulders. Jake immediately knew what was wrong.

,,You should get over him, Y/N .. It's been a year. ''

You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back your tears. He knew you so well.

,,Let me cry one last time before moving on alright ?''

Jake softly smiled as he nodded his head lightly. He sat down next to you and pulled you close to his chest, letting you cry as much as you needed. He comforted you by gently caressing your back, and kissing the crown of your head carefully. He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

,,You'll be alright... I promise.'' He whispered into your ear, as you sobbed into his chest.

And as you promised, it actually was the last time you cried over your ex boyfriend.

approximately 1 year later...

You and Jake got invited to a small party by some old friends. You were nervous, but you felt happy at the same time. You haven't seen them in a while.

,,Soo .. who's coming ?'' You asked Jake, nervously fiddling with your hands.

,,Heeseung will be there for sure. Jungwon, Sunoo, Riki and Sunghoon will be there as well. And i'm sure Sunghoon invited some of his friends as well. I don't really know them tho..'' Jake responded, focusing on the street as he drove.

,,Alright...'' You said, looking at Jake with a warm smile on your face.

Your heartbeat got faster when Jake parked in front of Sunghoon's house.

,,Are you nervous ?'' Jake asked, clearly worried about the way you were shaking.

,,Yeah. I haven't seen them since you know .. the breakup. It's been a while.''

Jake smiled softly. He gently put his arm around your shoulder, before slowly guiding you into Sunghoon's house.

Once you greeted everyone, you immediately felt less nervous.

,,What have you guys been up to ?'' Jake curiously asked, as he sat down next to you.

,,I recently moved out of town because my girlfriend broke up with me. And that child over there has a girlfriend now ! Can you believe it ?'' Heeseung said, pointing at Riki making everyone laugh.

And as you all were busy teasing Riki, you heard the door open behind you.

,,He's here !'' Jungwon shouted excitedly, making everyone look at the person who just entered the house.

Everyone but you.

Without even looking at him, you immediately recognized his voice. You recognized his scent, and even his footsteps.

,,Jay...'' You silently whispered to yourself.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces when you turned around to look at him. He wasn't alone.

He brought a girl ... his girlfriend.

Your breath hitched when your eyes locked. He looked happy. He was smiling. Seeing him like this made you feel happy as well, but seeing him with someone else in his arms hurt like hell.

,,Hey.. are you okay?'' Jake whispered into your ear, caressing your back softly.

You nodded your head silently, chewing on your lip.

,,Why don't you sit down ?'' Jungwon said, signalling Jay and his Girlfriend to sit down on an empty couch.

You could tell Jay felt kind of bad. The way he looked at you in pity explained a lot. He didn't know you were gonna be there.

,,I feel like i should introduce myself... my name is Sabrina. It's so nice to meet you guys.'' The girl next to Jay spoke up, making everyone smile. Even you tried to force a smile, which didn't really work.

You watched her cuddle up against Jay before quickly pecking his Lips.

,,Excuse me...'' You quietly said, before getting up from the couch.

Jake worriedly watched you run away to the bathroom before silently following you, waiting for you to come out. He gently knocked on the door, listening to the quiet sobs coming from the other side. But you didn't even hear him.

You were concentrating on keeping your breath steady, crying uncontrollably. And when Jake finally knocked loud enough for you to hear, you immediately opened the door.

Jake quickly stepped in before closing the door behind him, immediately pulling you into his arms after.

,,Shhh.. Everything will be fine. We'll get through this together. I know you're in a lot of pain right now but I promise you'll get through this.'' Jake assured you, gently kissing your temple.

You whimpered at his soft touch. He held you in his arms for a few more minutes, before making you look at him.

,,No more crying, remember ?'' He said, softly wiping your tears away.

,,Jake ?'' You whispered, looking directly at him.

,,What ?''

You sighed deeply.

,,Thank you''

,,For what ?''

,,For being there for me...I really appreciate you.''

Jake smiled softly as he pulled you into another tight hug.

,,Should we leave ?'' Jake quietly asked.

,,Yes, please'' You mumbled.

Jake giggled softly.

,,My House or your House ?'' He asked.

,,My House'' You quickly answered before taking his hand to pull him out of the Bathroom.

As you were both saying your goodbyes, you decided to look at Jay one last time. And to your surprise, he immediately locked eyes with you.

You weakly smiled at him. The smile was barely visible since you were still hurting, but it was there. And you knew Jay appreciated it. He couldn't help but softly smile back. The love in his eyes was gone, but you had already accepted that. You weren't meant for each other. And that's okay. You were sure you would find your soulmate one day. You were sure you would find that one person you're meant to be with.

5 months later...

Another week, another sleepover with your best friend Jake. You've gotten pretty close in the last few weeks, which was great. He gave you lots of strength.

,,Don't move !'' You commanded, before gently applying some more eyeshadow on Jake's eyelid.

He chuckled quietly.

,,Can you at least make me look pretty ?''

You silently put the eyeshadow brush aside , before gently applying some blush on his cheeks.

,,Oh you look amazing. Trust me.'' You mumbled, giggling after.

Jake looked at you with sparkly eyes. He secretly really enjoyed this.

,,Should we add some glitter ?'' You asked, looking at the boy in front of you patiently.

Jake sighed deeply, knowing he had no other choice.

,,Sure.'' He said, making you laugh in excitement.

Your touch was so gentle and careful. Jake softly smiled to himself, hoping you wouldn't notice. But you did.

,,One more step and I'm done ! Go choose a lipstick color, Jake ''

Jake quickly walked over to your makeup drawer, and picked the the most bright red lipstick he could find. You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, slightly judging his decision. But you decided to just go for it.

,,I want this one'' He insisted, sitting down in front of you again.

You playfully rolled your eyes before taking a new brush so you could apply the lipstick more precisely.

Jake felt himself getting nervous about the way you were staring at his lips.

But so were you.

You knew you were slowly catching feelings for Jake. It was obvious. And you knew you were finally ready for someone new.

You've moved on. You weren't hurting anymore.

But you were scared of getting hurt.

,,Y- Y/N ?'' Jake spoke up, making you realize you zoned out.

Your face reddened in embarrassment.

,,Sorry..'' You mumbled under your breath, before eventually finishing his makeup.

,,All done''

Jake smiled softly, before finally looking at a mirror. He immediately broke into a fit of laughter. You smiled widely, finding his reaction cute.

,,I look like Trisha Paytas '' He said completely out of breath, making you laugh along almost immediately.

,,C'mere, I'm gonna help you remove it'' You said, pulling him towards you.

Jake giggled when you started wiping the heavy makeup off his face with a makeup wipe. When you were halfway done, he caught himself staring at you. He caught himself staring at your lips, and especially at the way your eyes sparkled whenever you looked at him. You looked at him with so much ... love.

And all of a sudden, he couldn't control his body anymore. He gently cupped your cheeks and placed a quick kiss on your lips. You looked at each other in shock.

What the hell just happened.

,,I'm so sorry. I don't know what has gotten into me...'' Jake blurted out, trying not to freak out.

He thought he ruined your friendship. He thought you would never talk to him again. But you weren't shocked because he kissed you. You were shocked because it felt so goddamn right. You were shocked by the tingly feeling in your belly when his lips touched yours. You were shocked because you were actually able to heal and fall for someone new.

,,Y/N ? Please say something...''

Your mouth slowly curved into a smile, leaving a confused expression on Jake's face.

You slowly pulled him closer, before softly closing the small gap between your lips. Jake gently pulled you onto his lap, immediately deepening the kiss. His hand travelled down to your waist, pushing your body to his as close as possible. You gently bit his bottom lip during the kiss, making him groan quietly. The way he caressed the small of your back, and smiled against your lips here and there made you want this moment to last forever.

,,I'm in love with you'' You whispered against Jake's lips, out of breath.

Jake rested his forehead against yours with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. He had a soft smile on his pink, swollen lips. ,,I love you'' He whispered. You gently brushed your lips over his again, not kissing him this time.

,,You make me so happy'' You confessed shyly.

,,I know. And I'll never stop making you happy. I promise I won't disappoint you.''

Loving Jake was easy. You were more than sure he was the one you were meant to be with. You knew he could make you happy.

,,Be mine, Y/N ...''

♡♡♡

♡ taglist - { @aleiouvre , @heetoldme ... }

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year

Text

Requests: The Witcher: Geralt of Rivia- Pained

Pairing: Parents Figures! Geralt and Yennefer, Sister!Ciri, Fem!Daughter!Reader

Pov: 3rd pov

Warnings: Dying, Readers' death, fighting, big sister ciri, motherly love, dying in someone's arms, sadness, losses loved one, PURE ANGST.

Summary: Geralt and Yennefer go to fight in the battle leaving their two daughters behind together, but even good endings have death in them.

WC- 1.9k

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers. This was so sad, and hard to write.

The Witcher Master List // Requests Master List

The war had began long ago but when Nilfgard invaded Cintra the whole world shifted. With Cintra only princess having run away, a Witcher having taking the law of surprise, a Sorceress having her powers completely ripped away from her, and finally a daughter who just wanted dearly to help her parents.

Y/n was adopted and regardless of that her family still loved her deeply. Geralt tried to be a great father to Y/n, it was harder then he thought it was going to be simply for the fact that he had been alone for so long before meeting before Ciri, and Yen. Yennefer was an amazing mother, she did everything she could for our sweet Y/n. To young age to older adulthood she helped her through everything.

Ciri was the same as Geralt. Having been alone for so long she adored having someone closer to her in age. Someone who understood more of what was going on with her. The battle caused mayhem for everyone involved. They tried desperately to keep the girls safe. Yennefer was hellbent on the girls not even being apart of the horror of a battle. She didn’t want them to see the horrofic things that happened. She didn’t want her daughter to have the scaring of heart and mind like the two of them did.

The only compromise was that Y/n and Ciri would stay together. They would help each other with the wounded and help those who couldn’t help themselves. A great plan but every plan can fail in some sort of way. Had it been the worse idea for Yen and Geralt to have come with? No, it was a great idea it kept the girls away from the immediate horro show of war. It was the safest for Y/n and Ciri to be together and away from the merciless killings that happned on the battleground.

Ciri helped along with Y/n with the wounded and helpless. Wounded were moved quickly and off the field if it was safe enough, and all while they did that Geralt and Yennefer fought side by side. Moving with each other through the field. Geralt sword flying and slicing through the air, as yennefer moved and killed people with her powerful powers. Puffs of purple magic flew from her hands as she killed the oncoming attckers.

The two fought side by side, as Ciri and Y/n tried desper5atl to keep up with the incoming wounded. People walking astray as they made it to the safety of the medical nook. There were to many enimies coming out from behind the woodland. Too many things were going on, so she isn’t sure how she managed to get hurt. Y/n doesn’t feel the injury at first it isn’t until she feel the wetness of blood and sweat agasint her hand. Her eyes widden as the pain hit her mind. How had she gotten hurt? She needed to keep it under wraps. The wars wasn’t over just yet, but they weren’t that far either.

Y/n just needed enough time to see Geralt and Yennefer, so she pushes through the pain. She needs to help Ciri, and she needs to get through this. The pain can be felt like a thousand brick laying down on her shoulders. It’s a searing feeling in the pit of her stomach, she worries that she won’t make it to the end of this to see her family. She worries about everyone else as they continue to rush in with wounds worse then hers.

What nobody sees is how a stray bolts of strong and dark magic flies over the fight past hundreds if not thousands of warriors and strong magicals beings. It just sears through Y/n and out to wherever it lands. The wound is gushing and running thick with a red stain. It stains Y/n’s clothes but she’s so wrapped up in everyone else and helping someelse that she doesn’t even feel it until it way to late for anything to be done.

She pushes throug the pain. She pushes so hard that the color is slowly draining from her face, and as much as Y/n wants to continue working she just can’t. The world around her is becoming dizzier and it’s harder for her to ground herself. Harder for her to make clear of what’s happening around her. It’s not until Ciri comes over, gently almost has if she doens’t want to hurt Y/n and taps her on her shoulder.

“Y/n are you alright?” She questions her. It’s not like the color leaving Y/n’s face is not a clear indicator Ciri is just being thorough. Right? Y/n shallows hard and blinks her eyes a few times to find herself again in the world of mixed pain. Ciri thinks that it might be from the prolonged sight of blood all around Y/n, or the dead bodies. From that ones that they couldn’t save, it’s a rancid smell that the bodies are already emitting. Ciri question goes unanswered for to long, the comfortable air is quickly draining, terror is psuhing, almost forcing it’s way into the back of Ciri mind.

Then like they’re in a good playwright or fairytale story that Yennefer used to tell them when they were much younger. The clouds disappear sunrays shining through onto the blooded but green ground. It’s almost a fucking miracle how everything just becomes peaceful all at the same time. Ciri looks back down at her sister, she asks her again. “Are you okay?” Y/n breathes for what seems like the first time. Shaking her head before deciding that it would be best if she spoke.

“Yeah just got a little lightheaded there was all. The smell and blood.” She lies to her sister, boldface lies to her sister and she knows it will be horrible the ending is coming soon she can feel it in her bones. She can feel how fast her heart was beating compared to know. Her heart not drumming along anymore, she worries still about her family. So, she lies.

“IT’S OVER! THE WAR IS OVER!!” The two hear men and women screaming from outside the medical tent. Ciri walks outside of the doomed tent the sun shines on her pale face, and she breathes in fresh air. Turning she turns and looks over at Y/n, “How about we get some air that’s not rotten or just about to die.” Ciri suggest, Y/n musters up a short smile before using the most of her strength to push herself off the small and worn cot.

The sun the bright and almost make the sky look white as Y/n steps out from behind the medical tent. “Is it really over?” She questions Ciri. The two stand together and look out at the destruction, blood and gore litters the ground below. Grass that used to be green is now laced with thick red blood, and it reminds Y/n of her own wound. Her hand is still pressed into it, but it doesn’t matter not anymore at least. She had grabbed her cloak to just protect herself from her mother and father worries. There would be no need to worry the two of them with anymore.

Ciri is the first one to see their parents. Dripping blood that isn’t there, Yennefers hair that was put into place is out in fringes here and there. Sticking to her face with clumps of dirt, and blood attached to her beautiful face as well. Their father isn’t worse for wear, but his grey hair is laced thickly with a red tinge as if he tired to wash it out, but it was probably the sweat that doing it instead. “YENNEFER, GERALT!” Ciri can’t help but scream, she without meaning to grabs Y/n’s hand and drags her behind her down the shapr curves ofthe grassy mountain. Y/n was always able to catch up, or at least keep up but now it seems as if her legs can’t manage to work.

Theres that feeling again, like her world is really spinning. Spinning away from her. Ciri just runs with joy. Her whole family, her protectors are all right there with her. None of them are hurt, still breathing and standing in front of her. Geralt looks rougher upclose Y/n thinks as she tries desperately to push away the stricking pain in her stomach. “Oh, girl that the gods you are okay.” Yennefer can’t help but sob. As she walks towards her adoptive daughters.

Y/n starts to feel herself sway like the breeze is pushing her back and forth. Her eys are shuttering closed, but Yeenfer is to happy that her kids are right in front of her face to realize that Y/n is falling to the ground. Y/n falls to the ground and it’s in slowmotion, her heart is slowling even slower then before. She watches as Geralts face changes ever so quickly. Worn out, tired, and in a flash theres concern writing itself over his expressions. Fear and heartbreak is pushing through his yellow eyes.

Her cloak opens up ralveaing a growing bloody spot on her white tunic. “Yen?” Y/n hears Geralt yell out, shaking his own daze. Y/n’s body doesn’t hit the ground rather a soft and plush body. “Yen we can fix this?” It comes out like a question, not like Geralt knows it. What he does know is that he’s watched enough people die to know the look on Y/n’s face. She’s white as a ghost, and she’s slipping as the three of them stand over her. “Oh sweet baby girl,” Yennefer hushes Y/n, her hand dirty combing through a sweaty mob of hair on Y/n’s head.

“What happened?” Geralt asks Ciri, but she unresponsive. She’s like a blanket canvas, she staring her Yennefer and Y/n. Unwilling to move ot say a damn word. So, Geralt get’s down on his knees sitting down next to Y/n. Pressing a large and firm hand into her gushing wound. “Oh, sweet Y/n. What happened?” She manages a shake of her head, looks back between the two people she calls her parents. Geralt sighs, and looks over at Yennefer for the first time.

Yennefer isn’t holding back, but her magic can’t fix the wound on Y/n’s frame. It’s impossible since they she doens’t know what happened to Y/n. The tears that Yennefer thought had disappeared long ago show up again. They roll down her face with such sorrow. Nobody speaks. Ciri comes alive, moving quickly she braces herself at Y/n’s feet. Y/n feels whole, her family is all around her, holding her in their hands. Her life in their hands and they all share a look of knowing it.

She takes her last strong full breath. Looks out at her people. Tears brim all of their eyes, but she smiles at them. “Mom, Dad, Ciri. I love you.” Just like that a sweet and pure life is taken from the world, nothing rips through the world like that. A spark as just died, and Geralt doesn’t know what to do now. Ciri is melting into the ground, her body is shaking as she tries to figureit all out. How it all could have happened. Yennefer is quite for to long, like her mind hadn’t processed that those were Y/n’s last words.

The screams that leave Yennefer’s mouth is world ripping. ITslices through the air and everyone from Nilfgard to Temeria hears the sounds of the truest heartbreak. The loss of a child, the loss of a forever love. Nothing would ever be as painful as the sight of a heartbroken mother, and a dead child.

Completed on: 03/13/23

Posted on: 03/20/23

The Hero's-

80 notes · View notes

stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Note

hiii! first i wanna start by saying i absolutely adore your work!

could i possible request an eddie munson one shot? where the reader recently moved to the school, and she ends up being outcast right away (for some reason) but eddie, being the angel that he is, takes her under his wing, and eventually notices a notebook she's always scribbling in, on the front is a 20-sided dice (you can take where the story goes i jjst love this idea 🥺)

What Makes a Hero | Eddie Munson

eddie munson x fem!reader ✧ one shot request

A/N: Thanks so much for reaching out!! Sorry it took so long, classes started up again and therefore so did my stress lol. On the other hand, that did make writing this even better. Hope you love it!! Feel free to keep on asking from me, I love seeing them! And as always, don’t forget to dream 🤍

Warnings: bullying, some angst, a fool in love, slight mention of blood, fluff

Word Count: 5,246

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Who decides who becomes popular and who becomes an outcast?

Is it something in our genes that we just can’t change, or something in the way we pursue our passions? Do the other students just get together the night before high school begins and make a definitive list of who will be popular and who won’t?

Well, screw whoever made that list because they certainly didn’t talk to me about it. It’s because of that list that I’m now speed walking to my first class in a brand new school in a brand new town with my head down. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe, by some miracle, I’ll be left alone here. I’d rather be alone than treated the way I have been in almost every school I’ve been to. It’s my senior year and all I want to do is just graduate.

“And what do we have here?”

My heart sinks, slamming straight into the floor. No, that voice can’t be talking about me. It can’t be, not this soon. I keep walking, hoping whoever that was ignores me. Or, better yet, doesn’t even bother to notice I exist.

“Hey, where are you going new kid? I’m talking to you,” that condescending male voice calls out right before a hand closes around my shoulder and whirls me around.

Basketball players. My heart sinks to the floor.

“That’s a new record,” I mumble to myself, noting how quickly I was outcasted. And for what? What about me screams reject? I clutch my sketchbook closer to my chest, trying to prepare myself for what’s to come.

“What’s your name, new kid? I’m Jason,” the boy introduces, and I keep trying to convince myself that maybe he won’t do what’s happened at my last two high schools, “Just thought I’d scope out the new senior.”

He notes my silence, the grunge outfit set on my figure, and the sketchbook held to my chest before snorting in laughter, “And it looks like we have a potential freak squad member on our hands.”

I roll my eyes, clenching my jaw and moving to walk away. Jason clicks his tongue and grabs my shoulder again, pulling me back to him. His teammates are standing smugly behind him, just watching this happen. As for everyone else in the hallway, they’re pretending as if none of this is happening.

Some things never change.

“Don’t leave yet, I still haven’t gotten your name,” Jason informs, his voice sickly smug and sweet. With acid burning my tongue and anger roiling in my gut, I restrain every urge I have to reach out and deck this guy. It would just be worse for me.

In the end, the predators at the top of the chain in high school will always stay just that—predators. They’ll always keep us as their prey, no matter what we do. Alone, prey don’t have enough power to upset the food chain.

And that’s what I’ve always been and most likely always will be if trends continue. Alone.

“Y/N,” I grit out, just wanting this to be over. Jason hums, scanning my face and figure before a slight disappointment tints his gaze.

“What a shame you’re one of those freaks like Munson,” Jason sighs, using a name of someone I haven’t met yet as he traces a finger down my cheek. Every part of me bucks in rebellion, but I clamp down hard on my urges to fight back. “You’re not too awful to look at.”

I shove away his hand, leveling my best disinterested glare at him, “Too bad I can’t say the same for you.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I internally berate myself. My control over my tongue slipped and now, as I hurry away from the basketball team, I can only pray that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

“Your life is going to be a living hell, Y/N!” Jason calls out to me, making my stomach drop and tears that I despise begin to burn in my eyes, “And I’m going to be your devil.”

I shove my way into a nearby bathroom, my heart pounding and my pulse fluttering painfully. I stumble over to the sink and drop my sketchbook and backpack onto the ground. As I grip onto the sink, I try to breathe to get my chest to heave less. I look up at my reflection in the mirror and curse myself for the tears that slip down my cheeks. I wipe at them furiously, and it takes every ounce of my strength not to scream.

Things got so bad at my last school that my mother moved us halfway across the country to quiet and quaint Hawkins, Indiana. And yet, even here, my demons follow me.

Will I ever be able to live one single day of peace? That’s all I want—just one day to be free from the chains of other people’s judgements. What I would give to-

“Well, this doesn’t seem to be going your way does it?”

I yelp in surprise at the distinctly male voice sounding behind me and whirl around, my eyes wide and my adrenaline pumping. I swing without looking only for the guy to dodge my hit.

“Woah! Easy there, killer. I’m just-”

His long, dark hair and tattooed skin is a clue to who the man is, but I’m not lingering on his surprising attractiveness. Instead, I’m focusing on the fact that this man is in the girl’s restroom.

I swing again, and finally the strange guy catches my wrist in his surprisingly gentle grasp. My eyes dart to his ringed-fingers softly holding my wrist and it’s hard to ignore the radiating warmth from where he holds me.

“Will you stop swinging at me? Don’t want to mess up this gem of a face, now do you?” The guy taunts, raising his eyebrows at me. His voice is mellow and his entire persona, from the chains to the tattoos and rings, screams I don’t care.

Against my body’s natural reaction, I pull my arm back. I eye him warily, waiting for the unease to set in my gut. And yet, it never does.

Instead, I find…comfort.

“What are you doing in here?” I finally manage out. The metalhead before me shrugs, twisting one of his rings and stepping back from me.

“You seemed pretty shaken up so I followed you in here.”

“Because that’s not creepy.”

An amused smirk tugs at his lips that strikes through the center of my being. Suddenly, I find myself falling into that smug little smile.

Suddenly, I feel my world shifting at the sight of it.

“Listen new kid, just thought you could use a friend.” The stranger backs up, adjusting the sleeves on his ‘Hellfire Club’ t-shirt, “Now I-“

His words cut off suddenly, making my brows furrow. The sudden loss of his voice makes me…I don’t want to dwell on what it makes me.

“What?” I question, confused by his sudden change in mood. Instead of those dark eyes lounging carelessly on me, they’re stuck on something on the floor, “What-”

The guy shushes me, sticking a hand up in my direction as he stoops to the floor. I huff out a sigh, not entirely sure if I should be offended, nervous, or humored. Somehow, I find myself being a mix of all three. I guess most of all I’m shocked that, for the first time since the eighth grade, someone at school has had a somewhat normal conversation with me for more than two minutes.

But is this really considered normal?

“Okay,” I mumble beneath my breath, but when the metalhead stands up and turns to me with something in his hands, I freeze.

That’s my sketchbook.

Sudden desperation clangs through me so strongly that I shove off of the sink and reach for it, but he pulls it out of my reach. Very swiftly I can feel my pulse quickening and the anticipation of what has happened too many times before happen again. I stand almost helplessly, not knowing how I can defend myself as I wait for the ridicule or the cruel comments.

But they never come.

Instead, the unsettlingly attractive guy looks up at me finally. Something in his gaze has changed, and those dark eyes sparkle with something akin to excitement, “Why did you draw this?”

I look towards what he gestures, seeing the 20-sided dice on the cover of the notebook. My stomach drops slightly, but I can’t help but notice the way he doesn’t look at me the way everyone always has—with contempt and disgust and ridicule. Instead, he looks at me like…almost like he’s seeing me. Actually seeing me.

To be seen for the first time…

Something irrevocably stirs in my chest and instantly I know there’s no going back.

“Why did you draw this, sweetheart?” His voice ricochets through me, and when he takes a few steps towards me I take a few steps back. Finally, when my body brushes into the sink again, I realize he has me cornered.

“It’s just a nerd thing, it’s nothing.” I try to move away, but his body is so near to mine and blocking the exit that there’s no chance. An amused, hopeful glint overtakes the brown in his eyes and he takes a few steps back. The guy whose name I still haven’t learned shoves a finger in my direction, still holding my sketchbook in one hand.

“You play DnD,” he says almost triumphantly. I stand rooted to my spot in shock, so shocked that I don’t object when he opens the book and starts flipping through the pages filled with campaign ideas and sketches.

“I’m sorry,” I start, my voice unbelieving as my brain struggles to compute what’s happening, “This isn’t…you’re not going to make fun of me?”

The guy lets out a loud, ringing laugh before closing the sketchbook and skipping, actually skipping, over to me. He bends at the waist into a bow of sorts, holding out my book for me to take. An amused smile starts to tug at my lips at his theatrics and I take the sketchbook back. When he stands, his long, brown curls ruffle messily around his smiling face. Something about the scene makes me feel at peace for the first time in I don’t know how long.

“Make fun of you? Sweetheart, you’ve just stumbled upon the strings of fate.” His eccentric behavior makes me smile again, and I watch his eyes dart down to my lips once I do, “The name’s Eddie Munson, and allow me to be the first to welcome you.”

Suddenly, it clicks. Munson. Eddie Munson. He’s the ‘freak’ that Jason mentioned earlier. Considering that Jason’s already lumping me in with Eddie and whatever he’s involved in, a part of me begins to wonder if I’m going to have a friend here.

The prospect sends a thrill through my chest, one that I don’t think is entirely separate from my friend being Eddie.

By now I’ve figured out that he probably plays Dungeons and Dragons as well, considering how excited he got when looking through my sketchbook. It seems at every twist in the conservation, though, he’s got me waiting in anticipation without knowledge of what he’s going to say next.

“I’m Y/N,” I respond hesitantly, eying him in confusion even if it’s only to hide the part of me that falls into his gaze more and more, “And you’re welcoming me to…the school?”

Eddie just smiles again, walking forward and grabbing ahold of my free hand. I bite my tongue to keep from gasping at the electricity that the contact sends crackling along my skin. The burning warmth of his hands tangos with the cool, smooth texture of his rings and serves to swirl my mind and muddle my senses until all I can focus on is his skin on mine.

“To the Hellfire Club,” he whispers, before stooping down and pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.

And I swear I begin to fall in love with Eddie Munson the moment his lips brush my skin.

|||

A few months later

Eddie Munson has saved my life, and I don’t even think he knows it. I don’t even think he tried.

For years I struggled with who I was, grappled with the perception of others that was in such stark contrast with who I yearned to be. I knew that teenagers would always ostracize me for being the epitome of the “unpopular” crowd. Then I miraculously stumble upon Hawkins, Indiana, and a metalhead with a soft heart of gold changes my life.

Throughout the last few months, Eddie’s quickly become my best friend along with the rest of the Hellfire club. The closer I’ve gotten to him, the more that he’s shown me that it really doesn’t matter who the hell everyone else wants me to be or the opinions they have on what I am passionate about. I’m still not perfect and I still often let other people say what they want to me, but something has shifted in me. No longer do I yearn to conform. No longer do I crave validation from the popular crowd.

No longer do I burn to be someone, anyone, else.

Eddie Munson has saved my life. In the same way he’s ruined it, because after knowing him I can never be the same. I can never have my heart back, because his ringed and safe hands will always hold it.

“Dustin, here’s your muffin. Mike, here’s your extra lunch money just in case you get hungry.” I divvy out the goods, making sure each of my friends has everything they need. I step back, my lip taken between my teeth as I think, “Did I get everyone? Does anyone need anything?”

“I need you to take the sunshine down a few notches, sweetheart. You’re gonna convince me that the world is a better place.”

It takes me a few moments to stow away the intense giddiness and instant flirtation that wants to break through at the voice wafting over. Instead, I lift an eyebrow and turn around.

“I don’t know about the world but our world is going to be great if I have any say in it,” I respond, cursing my heart for how it leaps at the gentle and true smile that touches Eddie’s lips for a moment.

“Thanks, Y/N! You’re the best!” Dustin calls out from behind me. Mike reciprocates a similar sentiment before the two walk off for class. I watch them go, a soft smile on my face.

I’ve never really had friends to care for before, so these last few months have awoken something within me. I know what it’s like to be ignored and neglected, and now that a certain Dungeons Master has flipped the trajectory of my life, I never want to let another person feel that way. Whether that’s bringing Max new tunes to try or bringing food to everyone whenever they need it, I just can’t help myself anymore.

“I’ve created a monster,” Eddie jokes, making me shove him playfully.

As usual, he dramatizes the hit and stumbles back, slamming into the lockers with a groan. I can’t help my giggle as he slides down them, clutching the shoulder that I nudged.

“Oh get up, drama queen.” I walk over, grabbing his arm and helping pull him back to his feet.

He pops up as if nothing happened, a cool smirk on his face, “You wouldn’t be as violent if you acted less like our mother, you know.”

I smile at his taunt, knowing he’s joking about my violence but his claim on mothering is well-founded.

“Oh come on, Munson. You’d all fall apart without me.”

There’s a pause, and what he says next is so quietly said that I almost miss it.

“More than you know.”

I have to pretend like I didn’t hear the words since they were clearly not intended for me to, but they slam into me more than I can express. Suddenly, all the joking is gone and once again I’m a fool in love with a guy three feet away. One day I’ll find the courage to tell him, but not now. Not today. Instead, I swallow my sudden feelings and fish out the sketchbook that bonded us together all those months ago.

“That reminds me,” I announce, flipping through the book as Eddie and I meander the hallway and the thinning crowd. We’re on our way to class, but whether or not we’ll make it there is another story, “I have something for you.”

Eddie runs a hand through his long curls, glancing over at me as I rifle through my notebook. Finally, I find the page I’m looking for and carefully rip it out. With a smile, I turn and hand it over to Eddie. His fingers brush mine as he takes the drawing, sending electricity sparking through me. As he grips the paper, nerves bubble up into my gut and inundate my chest.

I’ve given him many little drawings here and there, but this one I’ve been working on since that day in the girl’s bathroom. It’s not a true confession of my feelings, but it’s about as close as I think I’ll ever get.

“And what has the great Y/L/N drawn today?” Eddie announces, opening the paper before him. Once he looks over it, his steps come to a halt and the smug smile on his face drops. I stop beside him in the almost empty hallway, my anxiety pushing me to fiddle with the hem of my shirt as I watch him with nervous eyes.

“Did I render Eddie Munson speechless? It’s a miracle,” I taunt, trying to keep the tremble from my tone that would so clearly betray my nerves. Eddie just stares and stares and stares at the picture, a thick, charged silence settling between us. Finally, his jaw clenches and he lifts his eyes to me.

I’m undone in his gaze

The burning intensity, the raw emotion, the unusual seriousness. It sets every part of me alive.

“Y/N…”

The way my names sounds from his tongue makes a shiver run down my spine.

“I know it’s a little more intense than my other pieces, but I’ve been working on it for a while and-”

He cuts me off, shaking his head and taking a step closer to me, “Sweetheart I can’t take this. This isn’t…it’s not me.”

A rare flash of hurt sears through my chest, the kind of hurt I’m not used to. The kind of hurt that comes from someone you love.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” I mumble, my eyes wide. Eddie grits his teeth and shoves the picture at me. I drop my gaze to it, my heart constricting at the sight.

It’s him, a full-body portrait about as detailed as I can get, and he’s wielding a sword and shield. In the drawing, he’s fending off some sort of monster, but the focus is clearly on him. With the way the light breaks over his form and the fearlessness I etched onto his features, my feelings for him are about as obvious as I can make them without saying it aloud.

“I’m not the hero, not like you drew it here. That’s not me.” He grits out, his tone’s more serious than it’s been in a while. It makes my heart sink straight to the floor, and all at once I remember exactly why life was easier when I had no one to care about.

It also meant I had no one to hurt me.

“Eddie, you are a hero. You’re the only one who doesn’t see it,” I rebut, but he just shakes his head and shoves the drawing into my hands. I stumble back slightly, the sheer cracking of my heart manifesting into physical pain.

“Then everyone else needs to check their glasses.”

And then he walks away. He just…walks away, as if I’m not standing here with a drawing I’ve been working on for months just for him. As if the meaning of it has gone over his head.

As if walking away from me is as easy as it has been for everyone else.

|||

A few days later.

The next few days passed in a slow, dreary haze.

Eddie was avoidant of me, our Hellfire campaign last night was canceled, and I was reminded of what it felt like to live without the safety net of Eddie Munson. I guess it’s my own fault, anyways. I’m the one who let me heart believe that life could be anything but what it has been up until now. I should have stomped down the dichotomous poison of love long ago.

As I walk alone through Hawkins High, the hallways brimming with students as the day comes to a close, my heart stays in it’s broken coma. Everything is in a haze.

Until I see Dustin cornered by Jason.

“Is it a requirement to be as ugly as you to join your freak show, or just a plus?” Jason taunts, his friends laughing and jeering at the kid who desperately keeps his gaze down. I can tell he’s trying to look small, quiet, invisible. All at once, the haze clears.

And I snap.

“You’d think with all of that-”

I storm over, dropping my bag and sketchbook down as I go, “Hey douchebag!”

Jason and his friends glance over in time to see me crash my fist so hard into Jason’s perfect nose that blood sprays out.

“What the HELL?” Jason shouts, clutching his nose and stumbling back with a cry of pain. The quickly forming crowd gasps, and I whirl around to an impressed Dustin.

“Damn, Y/L/N,” he mumbles, his eyes wide.

“I’ve got your back, Henderson,” I assure, giving him a half-smile, “Get out of here, I can handle this prick.”

“But-” Dustin’s quickly cut off by a hand closing around my shoulder and whipping me around. Before I know what’s happening, I’m slammed into the lockers.

“You little bitch!” Jason seethes, blood running down from his nose and messing up his pristine varsity jacket.

“Hey asshole! Get your hands off of her!” Dustin exclaims, but the one step he takes near me makes Jason’s basketball buddies step towards him.

Panic at my friend being beat up by a group of senior athletes bolts through me, and I shoot as calm a look at Dustin as I can. Jason’s hands still grip painfully into my shoulders, and the metal of the lockers bites into my skin.

“Dustin, go.” I urge, knowing I can handle this. I’ve done it my whole life, and he shouldn’t have to.

Dustin falters, seeing the menacing athletes just seconds away from pummeling him. He darts his gaze back to me and waits only one more seconds before turning and running away. Relief crashes through me and I turn my head towards the furious Jason.

“Now, where were we?” I ask, making Jason rip me back and slam me into the lockers again. I only grunt slightly at the pain.

He must realize the growing crowd and his reputation at stake, so he lets me go quickly and steps back. The popular basketball player runs a hand covered in blood through his perfect hair, a hateful laugh breaking past his lips.

“You just can’t stop, can you Y/N?” Jason sneers, his face growing calmly cruel, “Such a waste of a face like yours. I mean, you could be friends with anybody instead of those Hellfire geeks.”

“You’re just mad I messed up your pretty face, Jason,” I call back, my pulse racing with adrenaline.

I’ve never really fought back before, never had the guts to. It feels glorious.

“What is this going to fix, huh? You and your friends will always be rejects.” Jason spits. I lift my chin, leveling my now deadly-serious glare to him.

“Whenever you look at your crooked nose, I want you to remember this,” I announce, daring to even take a step nearer to him, “Remember that you can ridicule me all you want. You can mock me and hate me and torture me, I can take it. But what you will not do is so much as speak to any of my friends again.”

Jason laughs ruefully, a dangerous look on his face, “Easy enough.”

He stoops down to the ground where my stuff sits and picks up my sketchbook. I feel my pulse spike and emotion clamp around my chest like a hand to my throat, but I shove it down. I can take it. I can take it.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” Jason begins, flipping through the book before laughing and presenting a drawing for the crowd to see. On cue, the cruel high-schoolers laugh and jeer at the drawing of my friend group here at Hawkins.

“The freak show and their devil game come to life. The circus must be in town.”

The crowd laughs again, and my chest squeezes painfully.

I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.

“And what is this? Did you draw Munson?” Jason finds the drawing I did of Eddie, the one he so vehemently gave back to me. Old wounds rip wide open and I grit my jaw to keep the tears from even reaching my eyes.

“Oh this is too perfect. The freak king and queen,” He ridicules, getting close enough that I can see where the break in his nose is, “Does lover boy not love you back? Not surprising.”

I can take it. I can take it.

“I mean, who would want you? A disgusting, loud-mouthed-”

“Personal space, much? You’re gonna get your blood all over the lovely lady.”

I know it shouldn’t, and I curse it for doing so, but my heart soars at the voice that interrupts Jason.

I look over to see Eddie at my side and shoving Jason away from me, a panting Dustin standing nearby. His words are teasing, but his body language leaks barely-bridled rage.

“Munson.” Jason greets, clenching his jaw. Eddie hums, tilting his head at the basketball player.

“She really messed up your nose, man. Is daddy going to pay for a new one?” Eddie taunts.

“At least I have a dad,” Jason retorts.

Anger floods me and I step forward, about to rip into Jason. Eddie stops me with a gentle yet firm grip on my arm. His large hand holds me steady, making me look over at him with furrowed brows. I nearly melt when he sends a wink my way and tugs me behind him. That one look communicated enough, though.

You’ve got Dustin, I’ve got you.

I’m a fool in love all over again as Eddie releases me and steps up to Jason.

“You know, all you normals are the same,” Eddie sighs, walking up to Jason with his hands clenched by his sides and a mocking smile on his face, “Scared of a break in the cycle.”

“Whatever, man,” Jason grunts, sprinting suddenly at Eddie. I almost gasp in shock when Eddie sidesteps suddenly, shoving Jason’s back and letting him slam into the lockers so hard they tremble. I shoot my hand to my mouth to hide the surprised laugh that breaks out.

“Oops, I thought you saw those.” Eddie apologizes, settling his hands innocently in his pockets. His eyebrows shoot up when Jason whirls around and charges again, “Oh, and he’s coming back for more.”

Eddie shoots his foot out, tripping up Jason spectacularly and making him stumble into the wall. All at once, Eddie’s joking and sarcastic demeanor drops and anger like I’ve never seen it coats his features. He steps up to Jason, his jaw clenched and his eyes serious.

“Mess with her again. I dare you.” Eddie whispers lethally, the tone so different from how he usually is.

His words, though…

It’s all I can do to just stare at him as he continues taking to Jason. Eventually, Jason shoves away and storms off, bloody and defeated. Eddie receives a few impressed nods and turns back towards me. I’m just staring at him. I can’t help it, not when he’s so utterly beautiful, inside and out. Every part of him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, walking up and putting his hands on my arms. The warmth sears through my shirt and it takes a measurable amount of strength to snap from my daze, “Dustin came sprinting up and said something about you and a fight and a broken nose. I didn’t fully understand him but I came running.”

“I had that, you know,” I remark, lifting an eyebrow at him and ignoring the warmth in my chest. Eddie smiles, stepping back.

“Oh really? Was that before or after the public ridicule?”

I laugh, shaking my head and stopping down to grab my notebook. As I stand, I catch how the page it’s open to is the drawing of Eddie from before. With a fresh measure of nerves, I look up at the metalhead and turn the drawing so he can see it.

“You proved me right, you know.”

Eddie walks up next to me, shaking his head at me and leaning his back against the lockers, “I’m not the hero.”

“You’re my hero.”

The words are out before I can stop them, and I’m not so sure I want to. He looks over at me, his eyebrows drawn together. I just smile.

“From the moment we met Munson, you’ve been my hero—giving me a place to belong, people to care about. You can deny it all you want but it’s who you are. A hero.”

“Y/N-”

“And I know you won’t believe me no matter how much I explain it to you but I’ll spend as long as it takes if it means-”

“Y/N” Eddie tries again, but I just keep talking, my gaze forward.

“-and the way you look out for everyone, just always being so-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Eddie sighs almost in annoyance before I hear him move. I look over just in time to watch him grab my jaw, press me against the lockers, and crash his lips to mine.

My gasp is absorbed into the kiss, and the cool metal of his rings is in stark contrast to the burning of my skin as his lips work against mine. Every part of is alive and humming and melting and dying all at once. His large hands are on my face and in my hair, holding me close and kissing me with utter control. When he finally slows and pulls away, leaving me utterly shell-shocked, that heart-stopping smile of his spreads onto his lips.

“Thanks for the picture,” he whispers, grabbing the drawing from my hand and kissing my nose before turning and walking down the hallway.

My cheeks are flustered and I can’t help but smile, “Is that all? No explanation?”

“Nope!” He calls back, skipping a little as he goes, “Gotta leave you wanting more, baby”

I laugh, dropping my head into my hands to hide the smile that stretches so wide it hurts my cheeks. My heart is faltering and skipping and stumbling in my chest and in my soul I know. I know that he took more than just that drawing as he left down the hallway. With it, he took a piece of me.

Now, I’ll forever and irrevocably be tied to Eddie Munson.

And, for the first time in my life, I belong. I belong wherever he is.

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