#in my mind frank is the first to wake up but that happens years after it all Goes Down | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notakugelblitz · 18 days

Text

DELORES PART 2 • FIVE HARGREEVES X FEM!READER

sorry it took me so long to write it I don’t know why I was completely stuck. i’m not particularly satisfied with this part 2, but it’s okay. maybe it’s because I wrote in third person, i prefer using “you” usually. i hope you’ll like it ! thanks for your kind comments on the first part btw 🫶 english is still not my first language, so I hope there aren’t too many mistakes. takes place during season 4 episode 2 and 6 so be careful about the spoilers ! enjoy !

5539 words

part 1 if you missed it 👇

It wasn’t one of those mornings where the main character wakes up to sunlight gently caressing her face. A headache jolted Y/N awake, as if someone had stabbed a knife into her skull. A violent wave of nausea hit her as she struggled to sit up. It took her a while to recognize Five's room. He was still asleep, but a grimace twisted his lips. He didn’t seem to be feeling very well either.

At that moment, she could have been happy about the night spent with Five. After years of working for the Commission, bickering and flirting, it was a fitting conclusion. But Y/N felt so unwell that she struggled to take it all in.

She shook Five’s arm, trying to wake him up. He groaned as he was slowly woken from sleep, groggily opening his eyes and looking up at Y/N with slight annoyance.

“Stop it …”

Fuck, just let me sleep you moron. Y/N heard Five’s voice in her mind.

“That’s not really nice” she let out.

Five’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. He jolted up, sitting against the headrest of the bed and looking at Y/N.

“Did you just … hear what I was thinking ?”

“Don’t be ridiculous I …”

If you hear me that confirms pretty much of it. He hadn’t even move his lips and it resonated in her mind. She put her hands on both sides of her head and closed her eyes.

“What the fuck is happening, Five…” she whined.

That confirmed it. Y/N had abilities. Five tried his best to remain calm, gently resting his hands on hers and giving them a squeeze to help her ground herself.

“Y/N … Y/N, you need to try and focus. Just listen to me, okay ?”

“I keep hearing your thoughts …” she whined more.

Five gently pulled Y/N into his arms as he felt how scared she was, holding the back of her head. He began softly rubbing her back in gentle, slow circles, trying his best to soothe her.

“I know this is probably overwhelming right now, but I need you to try and focus. Listen to my voice. Try and block everything else out. Start with just my voice, okay ?”

Y/N nodded weakly, grabbing the back of his shirt tightly.

“Good … you’re doing good … just keep focusing on me, okay ? Just focus on how I’m rubbing your back … focus on my hand on the back of your head, running through your hair … keep your eyes closed … take a deep breath in and let it out … breathe with me … focus on how my chest rises and falls when I breathe, and follow it … take a deep breath in … hold it … and let it out nice and slow…”

“Why … why is this happening to me …?” she huffed, doing as he said.

Five continued to rub her back and run his fingers through her hair, trying his best to keep his voice calm, soft, and steady.

“I don’t know … I know that this probably scares the hell out of you, but you’re doing good. Just keep following my voice …”

He gently pulled her head under his chin so she could hear his heartbeat, hopefully finding some comfort in the rhythmic pace.

Y/N breathed in and out, calming the beating of her heart. She could hear his thoughts still, but not as loud as earlier. He was hoping she’d be okay and cursing whatever caused this.

“I wonder … have you tried … to blink ?” she asked softly. “You seem as unwell as me …”

Five gently nodded, continuing to try to soothe her. As soon as she mentioned the possibility that he has regained his power, he let out a slight sigh.

“I don’t know …”

“Try it. I can feel that something’s different within me, and certainly within you.”

Five looked at her a bit puzzled. He struggled a bit before getting up. Suddenly a purple light blinded Y/N and he disappeared right before her eyes.

“Oh my …”

She didn’t have the time to finish her sentence that he reappeared, falling back on the bed.

“We should call the others …” he huffed, eyes widened.

Speechless, Y/N stared at Five for a while, a million thoughts running through her head. She shook her head and stood up, trying to find her phone, but she felt a sudden headache and some stomach pain. She could hear in her mind that Five was suffering just as much as she was.

Y/N finally managed to grab her phone on the bedside table. She typed a message to the group, telling them to meet at the academy as soon as possible. Everyone answered pretty quickly, saying that they all felt the same.

Five let out a deep sigh as he watched her write the message and looked at her with a concerned and worried expression.

“Alright … once we all get here, we’ll try and figure this out … but in the meantime … I think we may just have to ride this out … you look like a corpse …”

“So do you,” she tried to tease him, but she retched a bit.

Five chuckled, but it was interrupted by a retch of his own. His smirk faded, and he groaned slightly as he lay back down on the bed, putting a pillow over his face.

“I just hope we’ll get over it soon.“

He moved the pillow from his face just enough so that he was able to look at her, giving her a small, shaky smile.

“Mmh … hopefully the others aren’t suffering too badly and may at least have an idea of what the hell is happening …”

“Don’t you think it was a bit weird when Ben proposed shooters to us?” Y/N asked, grimacing a bit.

Five’s face scrunched up as the nausea hit him. He groaned again, gently grabbing her hand before replying, his voice a little shaky since he was forcing himself to stay calm.

“Yeah … that was a little weird … but knowing Ben, it seemed normal enough …”

“Are you sure about that ?”

“Well it’s true that he has been quite insistent about getting our powers back but … oh no.”

“Five … is the marigold still here?” Y/N asked, a horrified look on her face as she pointed at the box Sy gave them.

Five’s eyes widened as the realization hit both of them, and he looked toward the box sitting on the dresser. He gently let go of Y/N’s hand and grabbed the jar that was in the box and get it out. Half of the Marigold was missing.

“Fuck.” Five swore.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or not to have some powers now …” she whispered, her gaze lost in the void.

Hearing Y/N whisper in disbelief, Five gently put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently as he held back another retch. He couldn’t help but feel a mixture of emotions when it seemed like she was about to freak out just like he was.

“As long as they don’t make you suffer … it could be quite the drill to read people’s minds.” Five tried to reassure her.

She nodded firmly, looking right into his green eyes. He’s been the best thing she has ever encountered, and it was a blessing that he was here right now. If he weren’t, she would have just panicked hard.

“You’re right. Now you can’t hide anything from me …” she teased softly.

A small, weak laugh left his lips as a smile appeared on his face.

“I guess that’s one good thing,” he replied, trying to sound positive about the whole situation. “But believe me, you’re really not going to like a lot of my thoughts … most of them are pretty damn snarky …”

“But you are always snarky.” she let out, rolling her eyes.

Y/N let her hands go through his hair, caressing it gently, hoping it’d soothe him a bit. eyes softened as he felt the nausea starting to subside. He closed his eyes with a sigh, feeling her hands running through his hair. He leaned into her touch, a slight purr escaping his chest in response.

“ … and I’ll have to be careful when I’m thinking perverted things now … can’t have you listening to that every five seconds …”

“Too late.” she chuckled.

Of course he heard that silly little thought that ran through his mind. Five’s eyes widened as his face went red, a mixture of embarrassment and slight annoyance from how quickly she heard his thought. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave her an unamused expression.

“We’ll have to set up some rules.”

“You’re not funny … ” she sighed but still smirking.

But he was right, that wasn’t fair and polite. So she managed to stop the reading. Five groaned and laid his head back on the pillow, putting his arm over his face, hiding it a bit since it was still red with embarrassment.

“I hate you so much right now … you know that, right?”

She got on top of him and leaned down to his face, laughing a bit.

“Oh yes, of course you hate me …” she teased him.

Five’s eyes widened with slight surprise, not expecting Y/N to dominate him like that. He tried to keep his grumpy expression, but failed as a chuckle escaped his lips. He was about to say something snarky when Y/N’s ringtone caused him to pause.

“Maybe we should go …” he sighed.

Y/N groaned, cursing his siblings to be that impatient. It was Diego who was calling but she hung up quickly. She kissed Five briefly on the nose and gathered her clothes that were laying on the floor.

“I’m not finished with you, Five Hargreeves,” she said, putting on her pants.

He couldn’t help but chuckle again from her comment, rolling his eyes.

“Looking forward to it …”

•••

And so she was right. Ben did gave them their power back by pouring some Marigold in the shooters last night. But what they didn’t look forward was the bunch of adventures that came up to try to stop another apocalypse.

Five explained to Y/N how he ended up into a subway every time he teleported, she even went with him while they were in New Grumpson. That place was pretty weird actually, but nothing was as much surprising as a talking cube or time travel after-all. So Y/N didn’t worry about that, neither when Five disappeared with Lila a few hours. Oh … little she knew …

For Christmas, the whole family was staying at Diego’s, with Lila’s family and their children. And now that they were all reunited, she finally started worrying. But the stress suddenly faded away when she heard Five’s voice in her mind. *We’re back …*

The two of them came in with dark faces, Lila kissing her children like it has been an eternity. As strange as it may seem Five looked a little bit older. But Y/N swept this observation away. She promised Five that she wouldn’t read his mind if he didn’t allow it, so she didn’t, but she walked towards him with a worried face.

“Are you alright …?” she asked quietly.

He tried to put on a smile, though it was obviously fake. The past seven years on the road with Lila had taken a toll on him, and he looked exhausted.

Five gently caressed her cheek with a trembling hand as if he was scared to break it.

“You look radiant as always, doll…”

She frowned her eyebrows. He never used to call her that. She looked at Diego kissing Lila, her looking distant.

“May I talk to you ? Alone ?” Y/N asked him, pretty much concerned.

Five couldn’t help but inwardly sigh, realizing that she was catching on and suspecting something was off. He nodded, grabbing her by the arm lightly and leading her away from everyone else and into the kitchen.

Y/N looked at him for a little while, leaning back on the counter. She had her arms crossed on her chest, nervously biting her nail. She was waiting for him to say anything.

Five looked at Y/N for a moment before looking away, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black suit. His stomach was doing flips, knowing that it was going to be almost impossible to avoid telling her the truth.

“Just…don’t freak out, okay ?”

“It’s too late for that. Look at you. How could I not freak out?” she lets out.

Five winced slightly from her words, his shoulders tensing a bit. He let out a shaky sigh, still avoiding eye contact as he leaned against the wall of the kitchen, his gaze on the ground.

“It’s …”

He trailed off, his jaw clenching a bit. He still didn’t want to speak the words. He didn’t want to say them, as though speaking them would solidify the truth of what happened during those seven years.

“Would it be easier if I read your mind ?” Y/N asked, her heart beating fast.

She knew that something was wrong, and it was killing her. Five’s whole body tensed up even more as she made the suggestion, his eyes widening. The thought of her getting stuck in his mind and seeing the events of the past seven years frightened him even more than speaking about it.

“Please no …”

He said a bit too quickly, finally looking into her eyes. He could feel the guilt forming in the pit of his stomach more and more as he saw how worried she looked.

Y/N bit her lip and hesitated before walking towards him and carefully holding his hand, rubbing her thumb on it.

“You know … we worked for the commission together and fought a few apocalypses so … you can tell me anything. I’d understand …” she tried to reassure him even though she wasn’t really calm.

Five winced a bit as she walked over to hold his hand, his heart aching. He gripped her hand a bit tighter, knowing that the words were about to come out no matter what at this point. He took a shaky deep breath before looking into her eyes again, his expression nervous and guilty.*

“I…”

His voice broke a bit as his gaze dropped from her eyes and down to the ground.

“I messed up.”

Y/N hurried close to him, cupping his face as she tried to meet his eyes.

“Hey hey … I’m sure it is not a big deal …” Y/N said softly, her heart still pounding hard in her chest.

He flinched slightly. She deserved to hear the truth … no matter how much it hurt. Five closed his eyes with a shaky sigh, his shoulders tensing once more.

“I travelled through different timelines with Lila … for seven years.”

Y/N frowned her eyebrows.

“Seven years ? How … it’d only been a few hours …” she let out, puzzled.

“A few hours for you … but seven years for me.“

Y/N tilted her head as she processed the information.

“It has something to do with the subway you get in when you teleport ?” she asked bluntly.

Five nodded slowly, hating how quick she was to figure it out, but a small part of him was impressed, knowing that she was always smart and could figure out the bigger picture. But it still didn’t ease his guilt. He could still feel the pit in his stomach and the tightening in his chest. Yet he squeezed her hand a bit more, as though silently asking her to hear him out before she said anything else.

“We were alone … and I was weak, emotionally weak and so damn tired. And she … she just …”

His voice shook, his grip on her hand unconsciously getting a bit tighter. Five didn’t really have to say anything more. Y/N let go of his hand and walked back, leaning against the counter again, eyes lost in the void.

“Something happened between you and *her*…” she articulated.

Five hated the way her face dropped when she spoke, the slight tremble in her voice. He took a small step forward, as though wanting to close some of the distance she had just created by walking back. But her words made his stomach drop, realizing too late that his silence had confirmed everything for her.

Five opened his mouth to speak again, his voice weak and shaky.

“Y/N I …”

“Why did you come back then ?” she asked with a somber tone, cutting him off.

His eyes widened a bit in surprise as she spoke so bluntly, no anger in her voice, only shock. He hated how emotionless she was, wishing that she would get angry or sad … anything was better than this.

Five reached out to grab her hand again, only hoping that it’d cause a reaction other than her being completely closed off now.

“Because I couldn’t stay away from you, you know I can’t.”

“That didn’t stop you from doing whatever you did with L- … *her*.”

Y/N couldn’t say her name : it made her nauseous instantly. Five squeezed his eyes shut, her words bringing about the reality of the situation. He gripped her hand tightly, as if trying to stop her from pulling away from him again. A wave of shame washed over him, his heart aching in his chest.

“I … was an emotional mess back then, I wasn’t thinking straight …”

“That’s what they always say …”

“But you know that I’m not lying, Y/N.”

She looked right at him, her eyes finally full of tears but still they didn’t run down her cheeks. Somehow, even though she was hurt, Y/N couldn’t help but thinking what she could have done if she got stuck 7 years with another man, with a friend. And there was so many possibilities, and so much desperation.

Five saw the tears in her eyes, and his stomach dropped even more. He hated being the reason for those tears … he’d always sworn that he’d never, ever hurt her like that, and here he was, having hurt her in the worst way possible.

In instinct, he stepped closer to her and lightly cupped her face, his thumb gently rubbing against her cheek as he gently spoke, his voice shaking.

“Y/N please … say something … anything …”

“I … I don’t know …” she let out.

Y/N didn’t look in his eyes : she couldn’t. She wasn’t looking at anything, actually. He continued rubbing her cheek with his thumb. It hurt to see her like this, so distant and emotional.

“Come on. You can yell at me, cry, get angry … just say something please.”

His voice was trembling, trying to hold back the tears that were building in his eyes in

response to her closed-off expression. Y/N looks up at him, her heart broken for a bit.

“What happened exactly with her … like … do you really love her ?” she asked a bit desperately.

His hand froze against her cheek, her question catching him off guard. Five quickly shook his head, his expression becoming panicked.

“No, of course not … God, I don’t love her … I don’t love her at all !”

“Then why…?” she asked with a broken voice.

Y/N finally looked up at him, fighting the urge to just read his mind. Five gently slid his hand down from her cheek, letting it fall to his side. He looked into her eyes, guilt still swirling in his own green ones.

“It’s just … I thought I got stuck again you know ? But this time I wasn’t alone so I’ve been holding on to it. I thought I went crazy. For 6 years we searched for a way back I swear and … I got tired. I gave up, I did, and I’m sorry. Not a day has past without me thinking of you. But in the end it just hurt me so badly. I lost you. And I thought *she* had the ability of healing that but I was so damn wrong.”

She looked at him silently and brushed her tears away.

“I believe you Five. But I need facts, I need to know what really happened because you’re not fucking precise at all and … I know you don’t want me to read your mind if you don’t allow it and that’s fair, that’s a promise I made. But I don’t care about Lila.” she articulated with a somber tone.

Y/N then pushes him and bursts into the living room where everyone was. Five tried to catch her but it was too late. She walked toward Lila and, without warning, slapped her. And this mere contact allowed her to see what she needed to see.

Y/N saw them, being desperate to come home. She felt their sadness, their mess, how Lila was down because her marriage was shit, and how she missed her children. She saw how Five was powerless. They then searched for years and years, and after six they kissed as if it could heal their pain. And Five seemed bad, really bad, Y/N could see that he was not feeling the same as Lila did. They ended up living in a house, away from everything, thinking there was no way back. But then Five found one, and he didn’t even hesitate.

Y/N lost her balance, having seen too many memories at once, her power allowing it but taking too much energy from her to do this.

Five was caught off guard by Y/N’s reaction but when he saw the look on her face, he realized that she must have done more than just a slap on her … she’d read her mind. He immediately rushed forward to catch her as she started to fall.

“Y/N ! Y/N, are you alright ?”

She was feeling dizzy as she could hear all of the Hargreeves exclaiming some things, surprised by her act. Diego was mad, but Luther was holding him back from jumping on her.

“Five …” she let out, feeling weak.

“I got you…”

He held her up as best he could, gently rubbing her back as he spoke, trying to keep her grounded against the dizziness. He ignored the shocked looks from his siblings, focusing completely on Y/N and making sure she was okay.

“I know you didn’t mean it …” Y/N huffed.

Everyone heard and got silent, not understanding why she just said that.

“What the fuck is she saying?” Diego asked angrily.

“It’s fine, love,” Lila said, scared that he’d discover the truth.

Five could hear everyone else’s confused reactions as Y/N spoke, but he tried to ignore it, knowing that they probably wouldn’t understand without context. He gripped her tightly, speaking in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear.*l

“How much did you see..?”

“Pretty much…” she lets out, regaining her strength a bit.

She straightened a bit and looked at Lila.

“At least you took care of him,” Y/N said, her voice a bit off.

Five stayed close to her, ready in case she wobbled again. He turned to look at Lila when, his eyes a bit wide and surprised at the almost backhanded compliment she gave her. Y/N then looked at Diego, and back at her.

“I know the last few years have been shit for you … but you have everything, Lila. Everything everyone here has ever wished for. Look at us. Luther, Allison, Klaus and Viktor lost their other half. Ben is a fucking mess. And we went through puberty a second time and that’s shit. And above all that ? Diego is doing his fucking best. Five, he …” she looked at Five. “He’s not the solution you’re seeking.”

Five’s heart broke a bit at her words, seeing the way she tried to give Lila some actual advice while still being heartbroken by what she’d seen. He hated seeing her like this, knowing that she was suffering and in pain. He hated that he was the cause of her pain. He reached out to hold her hand, gently stroking his thumb along it, his eyes pleading silently for her to look at him. But she kept addressing Lila instead, making his heart ache even more.

Y/N kept silent, waiting for Lila to open her mouth and say anything.

“What the heck is going on,” Diego groaned toward Lila.

Everyone else was waiting for Lila to say something, still confused about what was happening. Especially with Diego demanding an answer. Lila remained quiet for another moment, trying to think of what to say before eventually speaking, her voice wavering slightly.

“It’s not what you think …” she said, her eyes going back and forth from everyone’s confused expression.

“Oh, it better not be.” Diego scolded.

Lila looked into Diego’s eyes for a few moments, seeing how hurt he was. It broke her heart to see him like this … but she didn’t know what to say to him without the truth coming out …

“Darling, I promise you … it’s not what you think …”

She took a small step toward him, silently begging him to believe her with her pleading expression. As she could feel that Diego was about to say something, Y/N stood up, leaning on Five.

“I need some air.”

Five immediately held her a bit tighter so she had support.

“Yeah … yeah, of course …”

He helped her toward the front door, shooting a glare at the other siblings when they looked as though they wanted to interfere with them leaving. He quickly led her outside, closing the door behind them.

“Lila will find a way to get out of it,” Y/N said.

She breathed in and out, closing her eyes. Five nodded and released a deep breath, knowing fully well that Lila would find some way to talk her way out of what just happened. It wouldn’t be easy for her, but if there was anyone who would manage to make Diego drop the subject, it was Lila.

He kept his hands on Y/N, gently rubbing her sides in a comforting manner as she closed her eyes.

“You okay..?”

“I… I don’t know if I could ever forgive you but…”

She looked down as his heart dropped, but he understood somehow. He kept rubbing her sides, gently coaxing her to look at him instead of the ground. Y/N finally met his gaze and sighed out.

“… but I get it. I mean … yeah. Loneliness and desperation are quite tricky …”

“You don’t have to try to make me feel like I wasn’t at fault to feel better. I know what I did was wrong … I shouldn’t have let it happen. I should’ve been stronger and said no …”

“Five, listen …” she cut him off, putting her hand on his lips.

They felt warm against her fingers, but she let them slide onto his cheek.

“I’ve met enough apocalypses and weird things to know that I should enjoy every single moment. And fuck it. I love you, okay? So damn much. Of course, it hurt. But damn … seven years … and you got stuck 40 years in an apocalypse I can’t even imagine how you felt thinking that there was probably no way back again …”

He closed his eyes, his heart aching from the memories. Five leaned into her palm, desperate for a bit of her warmth and comfort. His eyes opened again and he placed his hand on top of hers, keeping her palm against his cheek as he spoke.

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve your love. Not after this …”

“Maybe not. But I don’t fucking care.” she said, finding his gaze.

Even though she didn’t read his mind, she could feel how sorry he felt, how truly hurt he was. He held her gaze, a mixture of guilt, hurt, and love swirling in his blue eyes. Five gently gripped her hand, his heart fluttering slightly at her response.

“You’re an idiot …” he murmured quietly, his grip on her hand tightening.

She leant her forehead against his, a tear falling down her cheek as she let out all of her stress.

“And you’re a fucking moron …” Y/N said back, smiling slightly.

Five chuckled softly, bringing his free hand up to gently wipe the tear from her cheek. He kept their foreheads pressed together, feeling the warm and familiar feeling of having her so close and so near to him again. He gently tilted his head sideways, his nose brushing against hers.

“Yeah, well … takes one to know one.”

“You owe me, Five Hargreeves,” she chuckled.

Five nodded in response, her breath hitting his face in a way that he’d missed immensely these past seven years. He knew fully well that there was no argument to that statement.

“I do … I owe you so much …” he said quietly, slowly bringing his thumb up to brush against her bottom lip, resisting the strong urge to kiss her.

“Don’t ever forget it then.” Y/N threatened him gently.

God, it felt good to be able to hear her gentle teasing again. His thumb stayed against her lip, slowly tracing along the edge of it, unable to pull his gaze away from it. Yet he managed to force out a quiet chuckle.

“I think you’ll have plenty of opportunities to remind me …”

“A kiss would be a good start, dont you think ?” she suggested with a smirk.

Y/N looked right into his eyes. They were full of hurt and love at the same time. His thoughts were so powerful that she could hear some of them … and they were only apologetic ones, full of love.

He smirked, letting out another soft chuckle in response to her suggestion. It was a familiar smirk that he hadn’t seen on her face in so long … he was still her Five, and she was still his Y/N, his Delores, even after seven years and everything that he’d endured over that time.

Five kept his thumb against her lip as he spoke, knowing that she could hear his thoughts clearly. Even though he knew he didn’t fully deserve to have this again, he found that he was getting impatient, desperate to kiss her again.

“Is that so ?”

“Unless you forgot how to do it for seven years … oh no right, you trained on your brother’s wife.” she teased him in a quiet voice.

Y/N knew that it was a barb she hurled at him, but he deserved it a bit. But she craved for a kiss, as if she had waited for it for seven years too. He chuckled softly at her teasing, knowing that he deserved this. He deserved so much more than that, to be quite honest. But the thought of not being able to kiss her again was something that made him sick the last seven years ….

He leaned forward, his lips a mere inch away from hers, a smirk still on his face as he spoke.

“Why don’t you see for yourself ?”

Time froze as his lips pressed against hers again, feeling as though he’d finally come home after being stranded in some unknown desert for so long. Five knew he didn’t deserve this affection, he knew he shouldn’t be allowed to love Y/N so fiercely anymore … but he couldn’t help himself. He kissed her slowly and gently, being so overwhelmed by wanting her that he couldn’t stop himself. He brought his other hand up to cup her chin, holding her face in his hands as he continued to kiss her, afraid of letting her go again.

Out of breath, Y/N broke the kiss and backed away a little bit, their noses still touching.

“How I love the kisses of Delores …” she hummed quietly.

Five laughed, a frank laugh. He felt truly good for the first time in seven years. This song, he kept singing it in his mind when he was stuck, remembering the night they sang it at Luther’s wedding, or when they kissed in that car on their way back from the restaurant.

“I would die to be with my Y/N.” he hummed back, replacing Delores by her name on purpose.

Y/N smiled and buried her nose in his neck, holding him tight. They could die tomorrow, and the thought of living every future single moment without him was nonsense. He was back and that was a gift. God only knows what she could have done if she had been stuck seven years with another person just like him. She could have done nothing and at the same time she could have done much worse …

As Bryant H.McGill said, there is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love. And this man, whoever he was, was so damn right.

taglist (thanks for your support <3)

@armyswag93 @boogiemansbitch @mylatest-hyperfixation @fanficwriter5

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #five x y/n #five x reader #five hargreeves season 4 #tua #tua s4 #tua five

45 notes · View notes

aemehhh · 10 months

Text

Regrets and mistakes are memories made- Jotaro x Reader

CW: Canon typical violence, swearing (like, a lot.), blood, deep wounds, hurt, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression and a panic attack is described in great detail, detailed description of character death, heartbreak. Also, spoiler warning for parts 3-6!

Wc: ~9.5k

A/N: Hello everybody! After I made a poll on here a lil while ago, people voted for a Jotaro fic and of course, your wish is my command.

First off, I want to apologize for any grammar mistakes; english isn't my first language. Also, this is my first fic, so any criticism is appreciated <3

Second of all, the story is made with a fem! Reader in mind, so the pronouns she/her are used. Also, the Reader is a Stand user! The name of the Stand is based on the Song "Head In The Clouds" by Hayd. Please give the Song a listen when you're done reading! :) Link for the song here: https://youtu.be/_aYQZoC3YCY?si=I8hSXMTYTzBmwzXC

Lastly, I am no mental health professional. Every description of depression and panic attacks stems from my own experiences as well as research I did. So, if you can't identify with Readers symptoms, I apologize. I also apologize if Jotaro is OOC. I still hope you have fun reading this story!

Enjoy~!

Love sucks. Like, it really, really fucking sucks.

Okay, no, it doesn't. But it kind of does too. It doesn't suck, when you see how you bring a smile to your partner's face with just your presence. It doesn't suck when you kiss the person you love or feel their touch or their warmth, and your heart just bursts with happiness. It doesn't suck, when your partner has a smile reserved for you and only you. When you whisper sweet nothings into each other's ear, fall asleep tangled in an intimate embrace, and then wake up to your beloved's face in the morning.

No, love really doesn't suck when that is the case. In fact, it can be considered to be truly beautiful.

It is beautiful when it is reciprocated. And that is where it really does start to fucking suck.

You met Jotaro Kujo in your very first year of high school. Jotaro was your classmate back then, and he always sat silently by the window. There was always that bizarre aura to Jotaro, when you look back. He has always had his typical, grumpy demeanor that practically screamed, "Leave me the fuck alone." His appearance spoke for itself. Although he was extremely handsome, having high cheekbones, a nearly perfect nose, the most beautiful blue eyes that have ever graced the earth's presence, as well as gorgeous, black curls; the most common expression on his face was a scowl. Jotaro also had more of a delinquent type of style when it came to how he wore his hair and uniform, and if that wasn't enough, he also told each and every single person who approached him to fuck off. So, he wasn't just a loner; he was kind of a freak, at least in your eyes. Which is precisely why you never bothered to interact with him, even when you became classmates and your assigned desk was next to his.

However, the two of you became friends in the long run. Though, to be frank, the way it happened really was bizarre.

It started at the beginning of your second year in high school. Unlike Jotaro, you weren't a loner by any means. On the contrary, although you weren't the most popular girl in school, you were social enough to have a close circle of friends that you hung out with regularly, and you didn't need more than that.

While the two of you never really spoke to one another, Jotaro was relieved that you were in the seat next to his. You were one of the only girls in the school who wasn't screeching in his ear whenever he walked by. Hell, you didn't even interact with him unless you were forced to by your teacher because of a dumb group assignment.

A group project was actually the reason why he started taking notice of you.

You two were working on a project with two other classmates. Jotaro was mostly silent, only saying something if absolutely necessary, which wasn't out of the norm for him. He looked out of the window with a bored expression, waiting for the next time he could smoke a much-needed cigarette. At the same time, you were in a heated discussion with a classmate about some stupid argument that needed to be brought up in a debate as part of the project. That classmate had completely disagreed with anything you said, not because he had good arguments, but because that fucker wanted to get on your nerves, and you knew it. You and that asshole were at it for about five minutes, and you were getting increasingly angry when, all of a sudden, the guy just magically agreed with your opinion. More or less. The guy claimed that that exact thought—your argument—just came into his head randomly. Jotaro noticed there was something weird about you at that moment. There was a shift of energy in the air when the guy just suddenly agreed with you, and it rubbed him in the wrong way.

Jotaro kept an eye on you after that. He noticed it happening like this a handful of times, where someone wouldn't agree with you for a while, then there would be a sort of shift, and all of a sudden, they'd agree with you. It bothered him real bad now.

Jotaro got his "evil spirit" soon after and was arrested. After his grandpa came to Japan and explained the concept of Stands to him, as well as the looming threat over their heads, a 100-year-old vampire named DIO, Jotaro suspected that you might have a Stand as well. After all, according to his grandpa, Stand users attract other Stand users.

Jotaro was right with his assumption.

You discovered you had a Stand during Jotaro's battle with Noriaki Kakyoin. You were in the nurse's office because you wanted to ask for some painkillers when the nurse, possessed by what you would later find out to be Kakyoin's Stand, attacked Jotaro and two other students. Something within you awoke in that moment, and a humanoid gray ghost came up behind the nurse, whispering in her ear that she would no longer attack the students. Afterwards, Kakyoin's Stand, Hierophant Green, came out of the nurse's body as if in a trance, and Jotaro's own Stand beat Kakyoin to a pulp.

Per his request, you followed Jotaro home that day as he carried Kakyoin, whom you discovered to be controlled by DIO. there. From there on, you learned about Stands from Jotaro's grandfather, Mr. Joseph Joestar, as well as his friend Muhammad Avdol, both of whom were Stand users.

On that day, you also named your Stand.

"So, from what it seems, your Stand has the ability to manipulate someone's thoughts and actions by whispering your command into their ear. This creates a haze that manipulates the opponent's head in such a manner that they think your command was their own thought. Therefore, making them take that action with no question asked. That is quite a useful ability to have." Avdol said while grabbing his chin in thought and looking at you.

"I guess now it makes sense why people magically agree with me when I fight with them, huh?" You scratched the back of your head, letting out an awkward and nervous laugh. All of this was just.. bizarre. Stands, a 100-year-old vampire in Egypt? Yeah. Not something that is usually happening in day-to-day life.

"So, got a name in mind? You can't just call it a ghost." Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, said with a grin.

You looked at the floor for a moment, pondering. Then you had one in mind.

"Hmm.. "Head in the Clouds" sounds pretty fitting, doesn't it?." You replied to the older man with a smile.

The true adventure began when Jotaro's angel of a mother, Holy, became ill from her Stand's power. Her soul was too kind, too gentle to be able to keep up with it. Avdol examined Holy and predicted that she would only have about 50 days until her body succumbed to her Stand's power and she would die. Mr. Joestar, who was beyond devastated and angry, called some doctors from the renowned Speedwagon Foundation (apparently this guy has connections everywhere in the fucking world) over to look after Holy.

Avdol, Joseph, Jotaro, and Noriaki, who was now freed from DIO's curse, planned to take the 50-day trip to Egypt in order to save Holy and defeat DIO. You were asked to join the others. And although hesitant at first, you agreed to tag along.

Your parents were contacted by the Speedwagon Foundation a few hours later, and they told them you got a spot in their international exchange program for Japanese students (you allegedly applied months ago). You had a bit of explaining to do that night, but they had no reason to think you were lying, so they let you go.

You got close to everyone on the trip. You even had a new guy join the group; a large, French man with silver hair called Jean Pierre Polnareff. He was quite a silly man, sometimes even a bit of a perv, but he was serious when he needed to be. The group sort of became a family to you at some point. Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, was acting like a father to Jotaro, Noriaki and you. Even when he was annoying at times, he kept his heart in the right place and made sure everyone was fed and doing as well as possible. You saw where Holy got her kind heart from. Avdol, although he was gone for some time, recovering from his shot wound given to him by a Stand user, was a very interesting and charming man. You and the others often listened to him talk about his travels all over the world and all the different people he met before.

Noriaki, Jotaro and you were the closest to one another, though. You guys formed a close bond that grew with each passing day. While you were indifferent towards Jotaro in the beginning, mainly because you didn't care to bother a person who very obviously wasn't keen on getting attention, you had learned to read him over the course of the trip. His body language and the way his eyes looked in different situations made it fairly easy for you to know what mood Jotaro was in. Take it from growing up in a home where you'd have to guess what your parent's mood was based on their footsteps alone, but your analyzing of his behavior made it easy to figure him out. Jotaro had a cold demeanor, yes, but he was also undeniably loyal, and he was worried deeply about his mother and friends. He protected those close to him with everything he could, and, not to mention, he did have a kickass sense of humor sometimes. You noticed little things about Jotaro too. You took note of how his face started sweating when he got stressed, his right nostril twitching slightly as well, or how he pulled his hat over his eyes when he got flustered or embarrassed, covering that up with his signature mutter of "good grief". You also started looking up to Jotaro the more you witnessed him fight, with Star Platinum's pure strength being something truly out of this world.

And while you weren't the most effective when it came to pure strength and close-hand combat, your Stand was strong enough to defend you most times, and your mind-manipulation saved the team's asses plenty as well. Your strategic and quick-thinking skills were impressive, and similar to Noriaki, you were able to come up with plans at the speed of light to figure out when an enemy Stand user was scheming something. This helped you bond with Noriaki, too. Both of you quickly became the team's strategists.

You and the guys basically bonded over beating ass. That's a given, though, considering the mission you and the gang were on.

You remember that one night, after you guys defeated the Sun. Jotaro, Noriaki, and you were sitting around a fire while Joseph and Polnareff were asleep. Avdol was still out of commission because of the shot wound, and Iggy, the dog Stand user that would later join you, wasn't there yet either. Or was he? (You aren't sure anymore.).

The three of you were talking. Well, kinda, it was mostly you and Noriaki talking about an ongoing manga that came out after a video game series, while Jotaro sat and listened to you, occasionally throwing in a comment or two. It was easy talking to the guys, maybe because all of you were the same age. That night, the three of you fell asleep by the fire with a light mood in the air. Nowadays, you look back on small moments like these fondly, a warmth embracing your heart.

But it hasn't always been that way.

"Death is inevitable. We all die one day."

Avdol muttered these words a few nights before he would die. The group of you were in a hotel room, most likely Joseph's. Iggy was asleep on the bed, Jotaro was smoking a cigarette with Polnareff on the balcony, and Noriaki was still in the hospital. You, Avdol, and Joseph sat at the table and drank coffee. You started the conversation. The injuries everyone, including you, got during the trip were heavy on your mind.

"Do you guys ever worry about dying here? Like, at all?" You broke the comfortable silence that was in the air. Your anxiety gnawed at your heart.

"Where did that question come from?" Joseph looked at you and laughed; today you know that it was a strained laugh, uncomfortable, even. Avdol only looked at you with a raised brow.

Joseph laughing made your 17-year-old self feel insecure about your feelings. You averted your gaze to your hands and started fiddling with them. "I.. I don't know. To be honest, I've just been thinking about death a lot these past few days, I guess. Day 50 is about three days away as well.." you hesitated. "I'm just overthinking. Forget I said anything." There was a long stretch of silence that followed until Avdol spoke up.

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day." Avdol placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before continuing. "I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death, and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

Joseph cleared his throat. The topic made him uncomfortable; you know that today. "You know, you're still young." He started. "I don't think you could die without regrets, even if you tried. You're still in high school; you have the whole world to see. I don't plan on letting you kids die, and neither am I letting Holy die. It's not your time yet."

He was right. It wasn't your time. Neither was it Noriaki's, Avdol's, or Iggy's. But unlike the aforementioned, you were lucky enough to survive the battle against DIO.

To be frank, you barely made it. DIO targeted you after he killed Noriaki. And just before finishing you off completely, Joseph attacked him. If it weren't for him, you'd have been mush on the sidewalk.

You were hospitalized for about a month and a half after the battle. Your parents were told you were in a car accident with your "research group". In reality, DIO dropped a car onto your body. Your stand protected you well enough from dying, but you still had grave injuries. Part of your lower spine and hip got crushed. They performed surgery, added some metal plates and some other high-tech stuff to your bones so you would be able to walk again, and you also had to get a kidney transplant. There was some more stuff to it, but you never bothered to remember what they did in detail. The memory stung too much.

None of your physical pain could even compare to what you felt emotionally, anyway.

Survivor's guilt honestly ate you up alive. It gnawed on your heartstrings and burned as if someone poured a bottle of chili sauce on your heart and lungs. You felt even more horrible when you couldn't attend Noriaki's funeral. Joseph was the only one to go. Jotaro felt too guilty to be there.

Speaking of, Jotaro frequently visited you in the hospital.

You would've thought that Jotaro wanted to forget all about the trip and bury it—and you—in the past. But no, he often came by. He paid more attention in class, you noticed, since he always brought you notes. He also helped you study.

You avoided the topic of the trip like the plague at first. Until you couldn't.

When you got out of the hospital, Jotaro and you spoke much more at school since you joined him on the roof during his smoke breaks (you picked up the habit as well, not your proudest moment). So, it was weird to not see you at school that day.

Jotaro has felt uneasy a few times in his life. That day was one of them. He knew that your parents weren't going to be home for another two weeks; you told him that they were on a month-long vacation overseas, which in turn meant that you'd been alone for a while. He would never have admitted it out loud back then, but he was worried about you, especially because, as he came to find out, you didn't call in sick that day either.

He got even more worried when you didn't open the door. He rang the bell at least six times and knocked for three solid minutes until he got sick of it. He used Star Platinum to open your door from the inside and let himself in. He was panicking, picturing a bloody mess in your room. He thought, maybe that one pawn of DIO's, that DIO wrote about in his diary, hunted you down to finish you off and get revenge. He pictured blood, a corpse—the most grotesque image you could think of—and his heart pumped harder with every step he took towards your room.

He busted your door down when he walked in. It might not have been graceful, but fuck it. He blamed the adrenaline later on.

The first thing Jotaro saw was shattered glass on the floor. It looked like it was a mirror once. The next things were your school supplies that were scattered everywhere, as well as dirt and a destroyed flower pot. Your wardrobe apparently joined the mess too. Its broken, wooden remains adorning the ground, and a lot of your clothes were at the center of it. If it hadn't been for your cowering form in the very back corner of the room, Jotaro would have thought you'd been robbed.

That night, you remember, they appeared in your dream. They, as in, your friends who didn't survive the trip. You were all meeting up in Jotaro's garden, and everyone was a little older. It was fun; it felt warm; it felt like home. There was laughter coming from Joseph and Avdol; they were laughing at Iggy and Polnareff, who were fighting as usual. Noriaki was helping Holy pour tea into everyone's cup, and you and Jotaro were on the side, smoking a cigarette.

That's how you knew it was a dream; you were smoking. You only started after the Egypt trip, much to your doctor's disappointment.

It was a beautiful dream. And it sucked. It sucked because it wasn't reality. It sucked because Iggy, Avdol, and Noriaki were dead, and they were never coming back.

When you woke up that day, you almost couldn't get out of bed. Your bed was comfortable; it was safe. Your room was safe. Until it didn't feel safe anymore.

The dream didn't trigger the breakdown. It was stupid (a comment your therapist would scold you for), actually. It was a dog barking in your neighbor's garden. This past week, you noticed that your neighbors got a new puppy. Also, guess what? Of course, the fucking puppy had to be black and white. During that time, you repressed all memories of the group, apart from when they appeared in your dream. However, for some fucking dumbass reason, that dog just brought everything back.

Your chest tightened in that moment. You knew the feeling of having to cry, and although you didn't want to, the tears just came. Usually, that wouldn't be a problem. You could wipe the tears, take a breath, and go about your day. That day, you couldn't.

Everything made you angry. You were extremely frustrated, and when you looked into the mirror, you didn't see yourself; all you saw was failure. You saw yourself as an utter, embarrassing failure. A mess that couldn't protect your friends for the life of you. The sight pissed you off. You grabbed the mirror and smashed it on the ground; the glass was in pieces on your floor. When you turned around, you saw your desk, your homework from the day prior still being there. Fuck it, fuck school, fuck every single thing. You didn't deserve it. Why did you get to do your homework when Noriaki, who should have been able to do it, was now a rotting corpse inside of an ugly casket with a huge ass hole in his chest? Fuck no. You threw it all on the ground, enraged that you would even have the nerve to go about your life normally. You throwing your homework on the ground also caused your flower pot to smash into pieces, joining the mess. While you were at it, you thought, there was a polaroid of you and three of your friends from school that was taken during the last summer festival in your town. It was hung up on your closet door. You were smiling in the picture, holding up a peace sign with one hand and a small fan with the other. Just who the fuck did you think you were to believe you deserved any sort of fun? You threw your closet onto the ground as well, the wood cracking as it hit the floor, coating your clothes with wooden splinters.

At the same time, you couldn't stop crying. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Not only that, your usually silent hiccups turned into full-blown sobs, and your sobs started turning into screams. Your chest hurt, and it became difficult to breathe. You couldn't take a deep breath anymore; and to be honest, you weren't even sure if you were able to take a regular breath. Whenever you tried, a heartbroken sob would interrupt your attempt. Your inability to breathe made your heart pump faster in your chest, and it hurt. Everything hurt: your throat, your chest, your head, your hands. You were trembling but sweating, as if you ran a marathon; simultaneously, you felt cold as if you sat naked in fucking snow. You didn't know that it was a panic attack back then, you found that out when you went to therapy a few months later. At that moment, however, you felt as though you were dying.

"You're alive." Jotaro muttered when he saw you crouched in the corner that was opposite to your bed.

"I wish I wasn't." You replied with a hoarse voice.

"I know." was his reply as he sat down next to you on the ground. Jotaro usually never sat down on the ground.

You sat in silence until nighttime that day. He never left your side. And while he didn't hug you or tell you that everything would be okay, you felt safe.

You guys started talking about Egypt after that incident. Jotaro basically dragged you out of your broken-down room and to his place. Holy didn't ask questions for once when she saw you, which Jotaro appreciated.

That night, you opened up about how you felt about everything. Looking back, you know that it must have been really fucking hard for Jotaro to listen. Even though he acted like it didn't affect him that much, nowadays, you know how Jotaro felt, and still feels, about Egypt.

Weirdly enough, the trauma made you two bond even more than the entire Egypt trip. Your therapist says that is because the two of you share a traumatic experience that not many people can relate to.

Oh, yeah, your therapist. Jotaro told Joseph about your panic attack, who, in turn, made you go to the best therapist he could find in Japan. Your first therapist retired about ten years ago; now you have another one. Joseph, funnily enough, still pays for it, even though you're more than capable of footing the bill yourself. That senile old man forgets every single thing on this planet but somehow never forgets to pay that bill every month.

Your therapist got the same story your parents did: a car accident with your research group. Three of your squad members died; you got critically injured; yada yada. They helped you, though. Ever since you started, you have learned to deal with your emotions better. You also haven't destroyed your room since going.

Back to the past and how you and Jotaro bonded, though. Not only did you smoke cigarettes together during your lunch breaks at school, you met up a lot in private. You hung out and read manga together in silence. Often times you also played video games, a habit you two picked up after Noriaki died. Noriaki loved video games.

You learned to appreciate Jotaro a lot. You often stayed over at his place and learned about some of the things he was passionate about. Contrary to popular belief at school, Jotaro was extremely intelligent and started taking his studies seriously after Egypt. Often times, he was even top of the class when it came to his exams. He was also super into marine life, something you noticed when you visited his room for the first time. When you asked him to tell you about it, he didn't shut up for about two hours. You've never heard so many words come out of Jotaro's mouth, like, ever.

And while you were oblivious to it at first, he slowly started to occupy your thoughts.

It came gradually, your crush on Jotaro. At first, it was just you missing him on days you weren't hanging out together. Then, your heartbeat picked up when you spoke to him or saw him. You started to feel giddy when you met up and you started dreaming of him.

It was super fucking embarrassing.

But it also felt super fucking good to love Jotaro. You weren't going to say shit, though. Ever.

Your dynamic never changed. You and Jotaro were practically glued at the hip at some point. It was obvious that you were going to follow Jotaro to the USA for college when he proposed that he wanted to study marine biology in Florida.

When you and him went, you got an apartment from Joseph as a gift. The two of you were supposed to be roommates all throughout college. And, honestly, you hoped to be roommates for the rest of your life.

It was fun being roommates. It really was. Freshly eighteen and graduated, the two of you entered your apartment and lived to the fullest. You cooked together, watched movies, played video games, and, of course, you were there for each other when it was needed.

Even though the two of you were in therapy, night terrors were still frequent enough at that time. It was always the same pattern. One of you would wake up from the nightmare, wake the other up to talk and then you would go into the living room and talk about it, or just cry.

One of these nights was also the first time Jotaro hugged you.

Jotaro was the one with a night terror that time. The two of you were sat on the couch in the living room as he talked to you about Noriaki appearing in his dreams. You listened, as you usually did, and that was all he needed. He knew you understood, and he knew you were there. This exact stability gave both of you comfort. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and just held you. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think he needed to.

Although, looking back, you definitely interpreted that hug wrong. While it made your heart flutter, to Jotaro, it was nothing more than showing appreciation.

Jotaro introduced you to his girlfriend about three years after the two of you moved to the US. She was a lovely girl, blonde, perfect figure, beautiful face and a disgustingly sweet personality. All in all; she was the perfect package, and she looked fucking perfect next to your perfect, perfect Jotaro. Shit.

You wish you could say you hated her guts, but you couldn't.

You couldn't hate her, because Jotaro loved her. He loved her more than words could describe, and you knew it. You knew from his eyes, from his body language and from the way he talked about her.

Oh, and if all of that wasn't enough, he got her pregnant about a year after they got together, and the two of them got married in the same year (her parents insisted—they were very religious). If you look at their wedding pictures, you could see the bump under her dress. If you look at the wedding pictures again, you'll see yourself standing next to Jotaro with a big smile on your face. You're a great actress, you've got to give yourself that credit.

You moved out of the apartment about a month before Jotaro's daughter was born. They needed the space, and you didn't want to trouble the newlyweds with moving, so you sucked it up and left the apartment you called home for three years. Joseph was generous, as you'd come to notice. He had a single-bedroom apartment that he gifted you, and he claimed that it wouldn't feel right to him if you had to rent, especially as a college student. You took it, obviously.

Jolyne was a beautiful little girl. Jotaro made you her godmother; no questions asked. After he got married and had a kid, you'd think the two of you would lose touch, but no. Jotaro made sure to call you at least once a day and insisted on weekly meetups. You don't know if that was because he got so used to you that he couldn't live without your presence or because he knew that solitude made you spiral mentally, but you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. It felt good to be around Jotaro, even if it hurt to see him live a life you've been fantasizing of having with him.

Most importantly, however, you were a rock in Jotaro's life that he couldn't live without, and that feeling was mutual. Your therapist would call it an unhealthy attachment, but neither of you cared. You needed each other close.

"You're stressed." Your eyes locked with Jotaro's just a moment prior. The blue hue in them was as bright as ever, but his expression, the small furrow of his brow, and the slight twitch of his left nostril gave him away.

"Fucking figured that out from just a look? Good grief." He sighed as he averted his gaze. Jotaro couldn't pull his hat down to hide his embarrassment, as he would usually do. Ever since he got together with his wife, she asked him to take it off when they were home.

"I've lived with you for years, Jotaro. I can even figure out when you're about to shit your pants because you had a fucking McDonald's milkshake. Spit it out; what's bothering you?"

"She has the birthmark. I.. Fuck, I can't even sleep anymore." Jotaro and you were sitting on his balcony while you were taking a smoke. He stopped that habit before Jolyne was born, but picked it back up a few months later. He rubbed his temple as he closed his eyes.

"You're scared that this pawn of DIO's, that he wrote about in his diary, is gonna hunt her down one day, huh?" You replied, your eyes still locked on his form.

"I am. Yeah. Fucking terrified, actually. I never would've thought I'd become a softie like this."

"That's the parental instinct, Jotaro. It's love. You understand your mom a little better now, huh?"

"I do. I was a fucking bitch to her back then."

"You still are a bitch, you know?" You joked, putting out your now-finished cigarette.

"Shut the fuck up." He shook his head, though his lips were curled in a very small smile. He did this more often, ever since Jolyne was born.

"You know damn well you don't want me to shut up."

"You're right. I don't."

It was a Saturday night in 1999 when Jotaro rang you out of your sleep to tell you to join him on a trip back to Japan. He had to pay his uncle a visit. Yeah, uncle. Apparently, Joseph cheated on Suzie Q with a college student back in the early eighties. The Kujo/Joestar family was sort of a mess for a while afterwards.

The person you felt the most sorry for was Josuke, the kid. He was pulled into all of this for no reason.

Jotaro asked you to join him because he "needed your assistance" to track some enemy stand users who used an arrow that turned other people into stand users. You knew that he didn't need your help, but he wanted to get you out of your house. You remember that you felt like shit at that time, because your long-term boyfriend broke up with you. His reasoning was that he didn't feel like he was the love of your life and he wasn't wrong about that. You loved him, you really did, but he wasn't Jotaro. The love of your life would forever be Jotaro, no matter how many people you tried to date as a desperate attempt to dull the ache that your heart was consumed by every day. And, of course, you accepted Jotaro's offer to go together. You always would.

Morioh was an experience, to say the least.

Not only were there more Stand users than you'd ever seen in your life, it was also a strangely wholesome journey.

Josuke was a great kid, and so were his friends. The bond between everyone really warmed your heart, and you were happy that you got to be part of it. Although you had to admit that you certainly weren't prepared to find and fight an actual serial killer, who was, of course, a Stand user as well. Looking back at it, though, the kids were very reliable, Josuke almost defeated that Kira guy all by himself after all.

Josuke, Okoyasu, and Koichi also caused some embarrassing tension between you and Jotaro at some point.

"Ya know, it's actually super cute." Josuke grinned at you.

"What is?" You paused and set down your coffee cup. It was your last few days in Morioh, and you were at a café the kids frequented. Jotaro and you sat next to each other while Koichi, Okoyasu, and Josuke sat across from you. Joseph was also there with Shizuka, the baby he and Josuke found.

"The two of you. Why didn't y'all tell us you were married?" Okoyasu commented with a pout.

Jotaro and you exchanged looks with a raised brow. Then it clicked: Jotaro was wearing his ring.

"It's because we're not married." Jotaro deadpanned.

"Oh." All three of them got quiet. "We just.. We thought you were because of, uhm.. the ring. Sorry." Josuke averted his gaze.

"Don't worry, Josuke. I mean, the big, mean guy doesn't really talk much about his family. Do you guys even know he has a kid?"

You successfully changed the subject by bringing up Jolyne back then. The guys drilled Jotaro to tell them everything, and although he was never a big talker, he did talk about Jolyne. He adored her; everyone knew so. Jotaro's eyes lit up just a tiny bit whenever he could tell people about her. The subject change allowed you to stay for a few minutes before you made up an excuse to leave the guys. When you left the café, you immediately went to the cemetery. Coincidentally, Morioh was Noriaki's hometown and also his resting place.

You had never mustered up the courage to visit Noriaki's grave before. It felt weird, looking at the stone with his name, but regardless, you sat down in front of the grave and spoke to him. To anyone else, you probably looked like a maniac. You couldn't tell anyone else about your feelings for Jotaro and you figured Noriaki would enjoy an update on your life after twelve years, even if it was sort of depressing as fuck.

It felt liberating, telling Noriaki everything. Even if he wasn't physically in front of you, you felt as though he was right there, listening to every single word you had to say, and by the end of your monologue, you were crying.

What you didn't expect was Joseph standing next to you after you had been crying like a bitch at Noriaki's grave for a while. You jolted when he said your name.

"You know, the only reason you two didn't end up together was Jolyne, right? He loves you, but he's terrified of losing you." His older, raspy voice spoke softly.

"How would you even know that?" You questioned the old man, but you didn't make eye contact with him. Your eyes were glued to Noriaki's gravestone.

"Because I know what it looks like when you're someone's whole world. You're his world, and he can't lose that. Being your friend is easier than taking the risk of the two of you ever breaking up in the future."

Joseph's words made you cry again. They hurt even more than if Jotaro ever rejected you personally, because they meant that it was hopeless. No matter what, you could never, ever be with him.

Jotaro got divorced from his wife in 2002, three years after Morioh. By that time, you were a successful lawyer in a big firm, while Jotaro was a big researcher in marine biology; he even got a doctorate. You and him hadn't seen each other in a month at that point. Both of you were busy; Jotaro was often on trips for either the Speedwagon foundation, because of possible clues regarding that one friend of DIO's, or he was doing actual research regarding his job. You were busy because you thought that drowning yourself in work would help you move on from him. Spoiler alert; it didn't.

The way you found out about the divorce was when Jotaro showed up at your doorstep one day with a big suitcase in his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You'd gotten home half an hour prior, so you were still dressed in your work attire.

"We filed for divorce. Can I move in for a while?" He asked, though; he had already made his way into your house. He knew you wouldn't say no.

And you didn't. You guys lived together for about five years after he moved in. He even paid half of the bills, and you almost felt like you did when you guys were still living together in college.

Living together with Jotaro was easy; it was warm, and it also fucking sucked. You couldn't avoid your feelings when the two of you were together all the time. Everything felt too fucking domestic, and it made you want to cry.

Jotaro was the perfect roommate; he made you guys breakfast whenever he wasn't on a trip. He cleaned up the house when you were working late; he went grocery shopping. Fuck, he even knew when you would be on your period and made sure you were stacked up on pads and painkillers. Since you only had one big bathroom in your rather small house, he kept the door open while he shaved his stubble, so you could brush your teeth and do your makeup for the day. You guys were basically acting like a married couple, except for the legal status and the romantic aspect.

You noticed that Jotaro wasn't truly happy, though, and you knew why. After getting divorced, Jotaro essentially abandoned Jolyne. The reason why Jotaro and his wife got divorced was because his ex was tired of him rarely being home. She lost feelings for him along the way and gave him the divorce papers about two days before he showed up at your doorstep. The divorce didn't hit Jotaro as hard, he told you. What did hit him was that he didn't see Jolyne much. They maybe saw one another once every two or three months. You felt sorry for her; the divorce hurt that beautiful girl and your heart broke for her. You visited Jolyne and her mother a lot, even after the divorce, because you wanted her to still have a small constant in her life. You supported her whenever you could. However, Jotaro asked you to not bring her to the house. He started distancing himself from her, because he was growing anxious the older she got. DIO's friend and the diary never left Jotaro's mind and he simply didn't want Jolyne to be in danger. You understood, so, slowly, you started distancing yourself too.

It was 2007 when Jotaro asked you to move back to Japan with him. Jolyne, who was 14 at the time, got arrested for car theft. Jotaro pulled the harshest dick move he could and told his ex-wife that he wasn't going to help her bail Jolyne out and that he got a job offer as a professor at Tokyo University, which he accepted. His ex didn't even have time to cuss him out before he hung up the phone. Jotaro had ultimately abandoned his daughter, and even if he tried to play tough, he was devastated because he didn't want to leave her behind.

Why did you know that? Well, Jotaro still had night terrors. So, of course, your old tradition of going to the living room to talk it out had been picked up again. Jotaro hated himself for abandoning Jolyne, but he kept saying that he'd rather cut all ties with her to keep her safe than watch her die in front of him. You agreed with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself either, if you were in his shoes.

Of course you agreed to follow him back to Japan; you'd follow him anywhere he went anyway; he didn't even need to ask. Home is where he is. Even if it meant quitting your job at the law firm.

You were more at ease in Japan anyway. It's home. Plus, you got to visit Josuke and the others in Morioh more often, and, of course, Noriaki's grave. The kids grew up a lot in the years you haven't seen them. Josuke got his doctorate to become a surgeon, Koichi worked as a criminal psychologist, and Okoyasu got a job as a police officer. Oh, and Koichi and Yukako got engaged. Yeah, they certainly weren't kids anymore.

When you moved back, Jotaro and you decided to move in together again. It proved useful with the bills, and you got used to one another's presence anyway. You definitely weren't complaining about spending more time with him. After he accepted the position as a professor, he had more time on his hands compared to when he worked in research. He was still trying to hunt down DIO's little buddy, though. Still, it wasn't as bad as before, and he was home a lot more.

You got a new job in the American Consulate of Japan about six months after moving back with Jotaro. It was pretty boring, but the bills got paid. During work, you always looked forward to the evenings when you got home, because usually Jotaro would have a meal prepared for the two of you. You started eating dinner together every night after some time. It was always one of you waiting for the other one to get home, then you would heat up the food and eat together, either in front of the TV, binging a show you liked, or you sat at the dinner table, where you would talk about anything and everything. It was nice seeing Jotaro let lose even if it was just a tiny bit.

It was about four months after moving to Japan when you and Jotaro began implementing a "besties day". It honestly was just a synonym for a date night, if you think back to it. The two of you would either go for a walk, go on a small road trip, or have dinner at a nice restaurant, and, at some point down the line, the energy between the two of you shifted. He started to put his arm around your shoulder while you'd watch a movie, and you'd play with his hand sometimes. You fell asleep on the couch so often that you guys just decided to sleep in the same bed and set up a TV in Jotaro's bedroom, your own bedroom basically turned into a room where you kept your clothes, nothing more.

It was on one of those evenings when you almost confessed your love to Jotaro.

You remember that the two of you were watching Zoolander on Jotaro's bed. He had his arm around your shoulder, and you were cuddled up to his side, his arm a heavy but welcome weight on your body. Jotaro was caressing your back as he stared at the TV, and his face got illuminated beautifully by the light of the TV. While Jotaro focused on the hilarious movie that played, your eyes were solely set on him. You took in how he had a few bags under his eyes, signaling that he was tired, and he wore his hair shorter compared to when you were teens, but the haircut complimented his face perfectly. From the side, his jawline and nose stood out to you. Jotaro had a light crook to his nose, but it looked good on him. Additionally, Jotaro was still a giant, muscular and tall (curse his amazing genetics and his gym habit.), just like when you were younger. Your heartbeat picked up in the moment, and you couldn't help but smile. Jotaro was so, so beautiful and you couldn't contain how happy all of this made you.

"You're so beautiful, Jotaro." You mumbled as you looked up to lock eyes with him.

"Where did that come from all of a sudden?" Jotaro stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening just slightly, before looking back at you.

"I dunno. I.. just felt the sudden need to let you know. I think you're so beautiful, Jotaro, I really do. Call me a sap or whatever, but I have never met a man as beautiful as you. Inside and out." You kept your eyes locked with his. Your words came from your heart and this would be the closest you could get to confessing your love to him without directly telling him.

Jotaro blushed just a hint, but you couldn't see it in the darkness. The movie might have lit up the room a tad, but it was not enough to make out the small pink hue on his cheek. He averted his eyes and pulled you closer to him while clearing his throat. There was a few minutes of silence before he spoke up.

"I think you're beautiful too."

You've never felt happier, but of course, it wasn't going to last.

It was January 21st of 2009 and you were just on your way out of a store. It would be Jotaro's birthday soon and you were out to shop for a present for him. You decided that a new watch would be appropriate, since he has been saying that he needed to get a watch soon. The watch you got was rather simple, a thick, silver wristband and the clock had blue details that accentuated the silver. Figuring silver would go perfectly with his skin tone, as it is more on the cool side, and the blue details would fit his eyes, you happily bought it for him and gripped the bag tightly when you left the store.

Since you were out late to avoid the massive rush-hour crowd, it was 10PM sharp when you reached the train station. You were alone and listening to music, when you noticed a figure close to where you were standing. It was a tall man you had never seen before, but you didn't really feel threatened by him. The man had long, white hair and sat on a bench, his eyes were entirely white, too and he held onto a cane. Thus, you figured he might be blind. You took out your phone, an iPhone 3G, a newly released phone that still shocked you. A touch screen was just super futuristic to you, considering you remember the old landline times. Geez, now you felt old. You sent out a text to Jotaro, telling him you're at the station and that you'd be home soon.

You waited for the train for roughly five minutes before you heard a loud bang, followed by a few more. A sharp pain spread throughout your body; first in your throat, then in your abdomen and in your legs, then you felt it in your shoulder. You heard the clunk of small metal pieces falling onto the floor.

You sink to the floor. You're falling into liquid, a lot of it pooling around you more and more by the second. You can't breathe, only gargling out because there is blood pooling in your mouth as well. It's cold, everything is cold. Your heart is pumping loudly in your chest and your head is getting foggier by the second. Did you really just get shot? But how? There was nothing there! You turn your head weakly, spitting blood out onto the pavement as you desperately try to inhale just a tiny bit of air. This can't happen. You can't die like this!

But you are.

You grab onto the bag you held in your hand tightly. The bag that carries Jotaro's birthday gift. Fuck, Jotaro? He's home, he's waiting for you. You have to call him, you have to get home to him! You can't leave him here, you can't go! You have to be there for him! Who will be there for him when you are gone? You have so much to say to him, you haven't even told him that you love him!

You look around. Your sight is getting increasingly foggy and your heart and lungs are burning. Everything is wet and hurts. Everything is hard. You're dying, you know you're dying. You're actively bleeding out in a random train station and you cannot do anything about it. You start to panic; your heart is picking up it's pace, and you choke on your own blood again.

All of a sudden, you hear Avdol's voice in the distance. Avdol? Why is Avdol speaking to you?

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day. I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death- and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

You freeze. You have to call Jotaro, you have to call him right fucking now. Where the fuck is your god damn phone?! You spot it a few feet away from you, on the floor and try crawling your way towards it. As you do so, the blood keeps flooding out of your body, leaving a red, ugly trail on the white tiles of the station. Every move is excruciatingly painful, but you have to bite through it. Your only focus right now is calling Jotaro. You cannot leave this world before telling him.

You try crawling, but you can't go any further. Your limbs shake and you can't hold yourself upright anymore. Wait, that's it! Head in the Clouds! You haven't used it in years, but now, now you need it more than ever before. You called Head in the Clouds out to make it grab your phone; which it does, albeit slowly. Its grey, ghostly form mirrored your state. It was weak, but it still reached out to the small, square mobile device as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

It's just a few seconds, just a few more seconds, please! You keep repeating the word "please" in your head; you have to stay awake for just a few more seconds. You won't die here, you refuse to die here! There's so much more you want to do! You want to kiss Jotaro, you want to wake up next to him one more time! You want to hug him tight and go on another walk! You want to see his beautiful eyes reflected in the mirror as he shaves his face while you're brushing your teeth next to him! You can't go!

Avdol's words play in a loop in your head as you shakily try to unlock your tiny phone. Your bloody fingers smear the screen and your head keeps lulling to the side as you force yourself through these painful moments.

Avdol said you shouldn't have any regrets if you want to fight the fear of death. You have regrets, you're terrified of leaving this world.

You make it. You successfully dial Jotaro's number. You hear his voice on the other line.

"Hey, why are you calling? You just texted me. Everything okay?"

His voice. His beautiful, beautiful deep voice. God, you love his voice so much. It's such a warm sound for your soul. Never stop talking, Jotaro.

You spit out more blood as you try taking any sort of breath. Your voice is barely there as you choke out his name.

"J-Jo... Jota...ro.."

Jotaro calls out your name, his voice sounds serious now. Worried, even. You can't answer him. He calls out your name louder.

"This isn't fucking funny! What's wrong?! Are you okay?!"

Wow, he sounds like he's panicking. Or does he? You're not sure anymore. His voice is far away. You want him to keep saying your name, but not like this. You don't want him to worry, you want him to be happy. Will he be happy? Can he move on when you're gone? He has to. You know he won't have a choice.

Maybe it's better to die regretful than hurting him even more. He'll feel guilty, if you tell him you love him. He shouldn't feel guilty, you don't want him to. It's okay, you think. He doesn't need to know.

You muster up a big breath, your body feels light. It doesn't hurt anymore. You're still cold and it's wet, but it's okay. Your heartbeat slows down.

"J-Jojo.. I'm.. okay.. " He hates the name. You know he does. But it's easier on your voice right now.

"Where are you?! Are you still at the station?! Were you attacked?!"

He sounds scared. Please don't be scared, Jotaro. Please don't be scared for me, you think.

"'m.. okay. Don't-" you cough up a little more blood. "It's not your fault, Jojo.. It never was."

You won't tell him. He's scared. He will be hurting even more. You can't do that to him.

"What the fuck do you mean "not my fault"? Tell me where you are, please! Are you hurt?!" Jotaro's voice is cracking. He's yelling into the phone.

You can't feel your arm anymore and your eyes lose focus. Your phone drops to the floor, next to you, right into the crimson pool around you. Your head is pounding and you feel so, so tired. You can close your eyes for just a second, right?

You see Iggy in front of you when you open your eyes again. He's wagging his tiny tail as he bites your hand softly to wake you up. When you look around, you see Avdol, shaking his head slightly as he crosses his arms, but then he gives a small smile. Noriaki is crouching next to you and smiling sadly.

"I wish we didn't see you again this soon. But destiny has its own plans, huh?" Noriaki spoke. His voice was soft, so soft. He still sounds this same. You feel warmer, somehow and there's no wetness clinging onto your clothes anymore. Noriaki takes your hand as he helps you get up.

"Come on, we have to go."

"Go where?"

"To the other side"

You hesitate. But then Avdol takes your other hand and Iggy walks ahead of you guys with a joyful bark. Everything feels warm here, it's so nice.

"Okay."

So, you go. You disappear with the three of them and you feel happy. You don't mind having to wait in order to see Jotaro again one day.

It's January 31st of 2009 at 8PM when Jotaro stands in front of your gravestone. He brought you a bouquet of white roses, which he lays down gently at your resting place. He is wearing the watch you bought on the day you died. If you were still here, you'd probably be overjoyed to see him wearing it.

Joseph is next to him, the two men staring down at the cold stone.

"I loved her. I loved her more than anyone I have ever loved in my life." Jotaro speaks up after half an hour of just standing in front of your grave.

"I know." Joseph just replies, one hand on his cane and his other hand placed softly on Jotaro's shoulder. If you looked at the pair closely, you'd see Jotaro's shoulders shaking just a tiny bit.

Jotaro was the love of your life. But sometimes, destiny has other plans for people who truly love each other.

So, yeah, love really fucking sucks for Jotaro and you.

#jotaro x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #jotaro kujo #jojos bizarre adventure #heartbreak

75 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the Family (Dad!Eddie x Mom! Reader)

The baby is here the baby is here THE BABY IS HERE!!!

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, mention of epidural, some language

WC: 2.3k

A/N: Please give me suggestions for Part 5! What do you want to see from the little Munson family?

Part I | Part 2 | Part 3

Taglist: @dylanmunson @tayhar811 @princess-eddie @briasnow-blog @eddielives1986

Baby Munson’s due date is October 25. That morning, you and Eddie wake up—or rather, Eddie wakes up, as you barely slept. Your back is killing you, your feet are aching, and the baby seems to love dancing on your bladder at 4 AM. Your husband kisses your forehead and places a hand on your bump.

“Today’s the day,” his sleepy eyes sparkle. You want to meet his enthusiasm, but you’re too tired, too sore, and to be frank, too cranky.

“Maybe. First babies tend to take their time,” you remind him of what the OB-GYN told you. You shift under the covers, trying to maneuver your way to a sitting position. It’s too much and you start to cry.

Eddie’s used to this by now; between your mood swings and the sheer frustration of being nine months pregnant, you’ve been nothing short of an emotional mess. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and lets you cry.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out, and I’ll help you up so we can eat some breakfast,” he says softly. “I’m so proud of you for growing this beautiful baby. I just want him or her here with us so you can be comfortable again. And, of course, for all the baby cuddles.”

You smile at the thought of your newborn snuggled up on your chest, or Eddie rocking the baby to sleep while singing a lullaby. There will be no shortage of diapers to change or bottles to warm, but you’re looking at the silver linings: cute little outfits, teeny tiny fingernails, and of course, watching Eddie get to be a dad.

“There’s my favorite smile,” he presses a kiss to your lips. “Ready for some food?”

You nod as he helps you sit up. Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself to stand. “I feel like I’m 100 years old,” you mutter crossly.

“You’re the sexiest 100-year-old I’ve ever seen,” Eddie teases and you roll your eyes.

The two of you munch on cereal as Eddie gives you a rundown of his day. “I’ll be at the store from 9 to 5, and then I’ll be right home. You need anything, even if you think it might be a false alarm, just call me. All my employees are on standby in case I need a shift covered.”

“Got it. So, don’t have a DIY home birth.” You give him a thumbs-up. “I know the drill, Eds. I’ll be here watching trash TV and eating ice cream like a good pregnant lady.” Your maternity leave started last week, allowing you to stay off your feet.

He flicks your hand and places his own on top of it. “That’s my girl!”

There’s no need to call Eddie that day, or the day after, until it’s Halloween and you’re still pregnant. It falls on a Saturday this year, which means that Eddie is scheduled to work. He’s ambivalent about going in today with you six days overdue, but you brush off his concerns with a wave of your hand.

“At this rate, I don’t think this baby is ever coming out,” you joke, then poke your belly. “You’re too comfy in there!”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, his eyes filled with concern.

“Positive. The record store isn’t so far away, and I’ll let you know if I feel even the slightest contraction.” You’re saying this to put his mind at ease, but the truth is, you started feeling some contractions earlier this morning. Your doctor said that contractions don’t necessarily mean labor is happening that day, so you’re waiting until they get closer together.

What Eddie doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?

“Still no baby, Munson?” Steve asks as he and Andy stride into the store for their weekly excursion.

“No baby?” Andy repeats. He’s been speaking in one- to two-word sentences, and his favorite thing to say is…whatever his dad’s just said.

“Sorry, bulldozer,” Eddie reaches over to tickle Andy. “No new cousin for you yet.”

“Y/N must be completely miserable. Nancy was only two days overdue with this guy, and I thought she was gonna bite my head off.”

“If she doesn’t start labor soon, she might kill me,” Eddie sighs. “Last night she started crying because she was angry that I got her pregnant.”

Steve laughs. “Sounds about right.” He puts Andy down, who immediately runs over to a box of cassettes, knocking them over. The tot wails and flops down on the floor.

“Hey, buddy, it’s all good,” Eddie reassures him calmly. “Didja get hurt?” Andy shakes his head. “Ah, just a little scared, then?”

“Scared,” he whimpers, but his crying slows.

“I bet you scared the tapes, too!” Eddie picks up a cassette and talks to it. “Did the big Andy monster attack you?” he scrunches up his nose and Andy laughs through his tears.

“Help Uncle Eddie put them back, okay?” Steve nudges him, and Andy clumsily places the tapes back in the box.

Crisis averted, Eddie thinks. And then the phone rings.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as Eddie runs to grab it. “H-hello? I mean, Record Emporium, this is—”

“Eddie, I need you to come home.” His heart soars as he hears your voice on the other end of the line. “I’ve been having contractions, and now they’re 15 minutes apart.”

How does she sound so calm? He wonders silently. “Okay, babe. I’ll let someone know I need my shift covered, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.” His heart races. By this time tomorrow, he could be a father. He could have a little baby sleeping in his arms.

“Drive safely,” you remind him. “Don’t want you getting into an accident. I need you by my side so I can squeeze your hand till it breaks.”

“Okay. I-I will. I love you,” he says before hanging up the phone.

“You good?” Steve calls from across the store, making sure Andy doesn’t cause any more damage.

“Harrington,” Eddie announces, “it’s baby time.”

You wouldn’t mind having a nice, quiet ride to the hospital, a calm before the storm, but Eddie asks you a million questions during the 30-minute drive.

“How are you feeling?”

“Are you okay?”

“Am I driving too fast?”

“Am I driving too slow?”

“Are you having another contraction?”

“What do they, like, feel like?”

“Eddie!” you finally snap, “if you don’t stop asking questions, I will have this baby in the car out of pure spite.” He closes his mouth, and you feel bad. “Why don’t we listen to music?” you suggest kindly, popping in a Black Sabbath cassette.

“Is this music good for the baby?”

“Eddie, I swear to God, I’ll start pushing right now.”

Eddie calms down once you’ve gotten situated in the room and the nurses can tend to you. He plops down in a chair and takes a deep breath. He’s already called your parents and Wayne, all of whom are on their way to meet their grandbaby.

The doctors and nurses talk to you both, keeping you updated on your progress. After you get your epidural, your teeth start to chatter.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, rushing to your side.

“’M cold, Eds,” you whine softly. “Epidural’s making me shiver. ‘S normal, don’t worry.” Still, he asks for another blanket from the next nurse he sees. You’re finally able to rest, the pain of the contractions slightly eased. You can’t get too comfortable because of all the IVs and machines you’re connected to, but it’s certainly better than writhing in pain. You even manage to fall asleep for half an hour before the sound of your doctor’s footsteps wakes you.

“Well, Mrs. Munson, we’ve been at this for nine hours already,” she states, flipping through your chart. “Let’s see how baby’s doing, hmm?”

“I feel...feel like I have to push,” you groan. The contractions are really close together and you don’t know how much longer you can keep going before you pass out from exhaustion.

“Looks like we’re at 10 centimeters!” she announces. Eddie’s pulled his chair up next to you, stroking your hand with his thumb and bringing it to his lips for tender kisses. When he hears what the doctor says, he squeezes tight.

“This is it!” he whispers excitedly. “You’re so brave, sweetheart. I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re the strongest, most bad-ass person I know.”

You manage a giggle. “I love you, Eddie Munson.”

After an hour of pushing, you’re holding your tiny baby in your arms.

“I’m so happy,” you coo as she lets out a yawn. “Daddy and I are so happy you’re finally here!” You turn to Eddie. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted but grinning from ear to ear.

“I have a daughter,” he says, awestruck. “She’s so perfect. I just…I just don’t get it. How is she so perfect?”

“Beats me. You and I are a mess,” you tease as a nurse knocks on the door.

“Hi there,” she calls softly. “I’ve got some grandparents who would love to see you.” Your parents and Wayne wave from the doorway.

“Come on in,” you say. The adrenaline of labor is quickly wearing off, and you feel yourself in desperate need for a nap. Still, you aren’t going to deny them time with their first grandchild.

Eddie gently takes your daughter into his arms. “I’d like you all to meet Melody Joy Munson,” he announces. “Melody because she is the sweetest music I’ve ever heard, and Joy for—”

“For your mother,” Wayne finishes, tears in his eyes. “She would be so proud of you. Both of you,” he amends, “and she would’ve spoiled the hell out of this little girl.”

You nod, and Eddie adds, “Oh, she would’ve bought her every frilly pink outfit she could find.”

After 10 minutes of newborn snuggles, you start to fall asleep, and the proud grandparents head home. It took some bargaining, but Wayne eventually puts Melody back in her bassinet, but not before promising that he’ll never put her down once she comes home.

You’re asleep for all of 45 minutes before you’re greeted with more guests.

“The Munson family is very popular,” the nurse quips jokingly, and it warms you from the inside out. We’re a family.

Steve and Nancy file in quietly. “Sorry to wake you,” Nancy whispers, “but we just had to meet the baby. We’ll only be a few minutes, I swear.”

“’S’okay,” you reply tiredly, managing a small smile. Eddie puts his hand on your shoulder, a silent I got this, as your friends peer over at your daughter.

“Melody, this is Aunt Nancy and Uncle Steve. They have a son named Andy. We’ll try to keep him from stampeding over you.” Melody stirs but doesn’t cry.

“Such a good baby,” Nancy swoons. “Almost makes me want another one—almost,” she clarifies as she catches Steve’s cocked eyebrow.

“Y/N, Eddie, she’s adorable. I love her already,” Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s back. “Can I hold her?” he asks anxiously. Eddie nods, lifting Melody into Steve’s arms. You take in the sight of your husband and your friend bonding over your baby, and you nearly melt.

Nancy sits next to you. “You get some rest,” she orders gently, offering a kind smile. She’s always looked out for you. “But first,” her voice drops to a whisper, “how did Eddie do during your labor?”

You laugh even though it hurts. “Surprisingly well. I thought I was gonna murder him on the drive over, though. Asking me 14,000 questions while I’m trying to breathe through my contractions.”

“Good. If he passed out or something, I’d kill him myself.” She suddenly looks over at Steve, who nods amidst your confusion.

“We actually have a little surprise,” he says. The door bursts open before he can finish his thought.

“Uncle Dusty’s here!”

Eddie spins around, and you’re grateful he’s already handed Melody to Steve. “Henderson! You’re here!”

Dustin pushes past Eddie and goes straight toward the baby in Steve’s arms. “Lemme see! I don’t believe that Eddie could make a cute kid.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curly hair. “Lucky for you, she looks just like her mom.”

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathes, “Eddie Munson has a daughter.”

“That’s what I said!” Eddie laughs. “So, what, Henderson? You cut class just to see me?”

“No, I cut class just to see her,” Dustin points at Melody. “Actually, I told my professors that I’ll be out for a few days because my brother and sister-in-law just had a baby.” He’s bashful as he says it, but you’re truly touched.

“You wanna hold her?” you ask, and he nods in response. Steve hands the sleeping baby over to Dustin.

“She’s beautiful,” he says, and you can tell he’s choking back tears. “What’s her name?”

“Melody Joy,” you answer, blinking back tears of your own.

“Well, hi there, Melody Joy,” Dustin coos. “I’m gonna be your favorite uncle. And when you get older, I’m gonna teach you all about Dungeons and Dragons. You roll your eyes lovingly as he continues.

“Can I tell you a secret? Your mom and dad are amazing, incredible people. Always looking out for their friends. Who knows where I’d be without your dad taking me under his wing? And who knows where he’d be without your mom making sure he takes care of himself?

“But do you know what the best part about our weird little makeshift family is? You never run out of love. When life beats you down and you feel like you can’t get back up, you have a whole army of people ready to help you. Because we love each other. And we love you, little Melody Joy.

“Welcome to the family.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #dad!eddie series

663 notes · View notes

physalian · 20 days

Text

Am I the only one who likes Heroes of Olympus less and less as I get older?

Sometimes I think about how much better Heroes of Olympus could have been if there was A Plan. I have reread my copy of TLO so many times I have to be careful with it because the spine is falling apart, meanwhile I don’t think I’ve opened my copy of MOA. Originally read it borrowed from a friend as the copy I have came with the box set.

I don’t know what went on behind the scenes or why choices were made and they weren’t written that far apart so it can’t be nostalgia interfering—I was in middle school when the first few HOO books came out, I distinctly remember being a little jealous seventh grader that an eighth grader in my criminology class had the hardback of Lost Hero. But I wish I did know what went through either Riordan’s mind or his editor’s or the people at Disney-Hyperion because this series… just pales in comparison in so many ways to the original.

Not to say it’s all bad! So before anyone starts screaming, here’s the shortlist of things I liked:

I think SON was probably the best written overall as a cohesive story between all POVs, never got bored waiting for Percy’s POV to come back around and Frank and Hazel are awesome characters

Still adore the Tartarus sections in HOH, I loved all the callbacks and how it felt like a hellish road trip through everything that brough these two legacy characters to this point, digging up even the oldest of old foes

The main seven are solid, more so now as I get older and can appreciate them all for what they brough to the table, however the changes in characterizations for the legacy characters is… something else

I liked a lot of the minor gods and villains, despite Cupid’s role in the story, he was fantastic. I liked the exploration into both wider known Greek myths, like Narcisus and Heracles, and myths you’d definitely have to google, and the exploration outside the US

But regardless of what the actual plan was, it doesn’t feel like there was a plan, and a lot of that comes down to the plot and the complete lack of a thematic throughline. There was so much plot, that there was just no time for theme.

What I mean by this is that a message really front and center in PJO was the neglect of the gods and how they became their own self-fulfilling prophecy, by treating their kids like tools and toys, they can’t be surprised when the actual human children wake up to their neglect and attempt to do something about it, and that whole story was anchored by the different paths of Luke and Percy—Luke is what could have happened to Percy, whether by not having a slightly-less-shitty god for a dad, or having a mom who wasn’t cursed by the Oracle.

Fully admit that my memory of HOO is less than stellar because I haven’t read it nearly as much, but there was no Luke of that series, there was just Gaea and a couple secondary villains like Octavian, who is not nearly present enough or significant enough to be more than an obstacle. Kronos did a whole lot of nothing for the entire series until the final book, just whispers and threats and moving pieces around his chessboard, but his proxy was Luke. Luke was a personal, meaningful villain to Percy, Annabeth, Grover, Thalia, the Camp as a whole. He wasn’t just some guy. Gaea didn’t have a proxy—she had the giants and little short-lived minions, but none of those gave personal stakes to the story. If, say, something catastrophic had happened and Jason became the New Luke for the same damn reason—didn’t have anywhere else to turn and thought a world without the gods would be better than this—after spending a whole book getting to like him, maybe?

Obviously a big difference is the pacing, but I won’t fault it for the attempt at telling one huge, months-spanning story. Making a bold choice like that and seeing what sticks was always going to be interesting, but doing so did sacrifice seeing these new characters grow over five years like we did with Percy, and then having to share page time with multiple POVS, and not showing up at all for an entire book, either in TLH or SON. Not only was it less time with the former protagonist, but on top of all this plot, we’re having to race through it with a majority of new faces.

Another thing is the very intentional meta rivalry between the Greeks and the Romans. When I was a kid people hated Jason. We got incredibly protective of Percy and didn’t like Jason creeping in on Percy’s spotlight, this dude who we’ve never met and are simply told “he’s the Roman version of Percy but slightly better” and yet the book reinforces that idea constantly. In SON, I can’t pull specific page examples, but the Roman condescension of CHB’s way of life—like the campers being split by godly parent—isn’t just a condemnation of their ancient enemy, it also mocks the older books themselves, like “oh, you thought this was cool? Well you’re supposed to hate it now”. In MOA, literally, on the front cover, is the repeated skirmishes between Percy and Jason, once again asking readers to pick sides instead of thinking of these two as a team. If Jason really is Percy But Better, contrived fistfights never would have happened because they’d respect the fuck out of each other—and they didn’t happen organically for that reason. They had to be possessed and brainwashed. For…tension?

But I think the treatment and the arcs of the legacy characters, Percy, Annabeth, and Nico [no footage found for Grover], is the most confusing decision. I really don’t know what was going through their heads when they decided not to give a single POV to Percy, the sole narrator of five years of books, to the (presumed at the time) last book we’d ever see him in. So many choices with his characterization, too from MOA on, like the lack of meaningful reaction to Calypso, or Nico randomly getting kidnapped, to just… just the whole climactic nosebleed in BOO. He just became a caricature of himself, popping up to throw out a Persassy one-liner or getting weirdly jealous of Frank for being able to shape-shift. One of the only lines I remember clear as day from him, probably because it was a quip and not anything with substance, is “I can’t drown and neither can my pancakes.” If this isn’t his first line in BOO, I do remember waiting like, 60 pages to hear this boy speak. He was at his best in a return to form in HOO, and man was that a fall from grace from the last chapter of HOO to the first chapter of BOO.

Annabeth… is Annabeth. Ironically it was because her character didn’t change that makes it worse. I only recently had the “she actually is hell abusive” revelation, but beyond that, I know there are fierce defenders of her not being useless, but she… kind of is? Not in the vein of her not having combat powers, and I know she has her role with the Parthenos, but so much of her skill overlaps with or is overshadowed by Percy (he's incredibly clever and saves them at least half the time, and is a perfectly servicable strategist and tactician who, when he doesn't know something, consults his friends), and always has been. She’s the only character whose fatal flaw bites them in the ass without them even realizing it, more than once. Percy’s loyalty sees him drop with her into Tartarus, but it’s Annabeth’s hubris that got them into that situation. I will always appreciate a character who has to be clever because they aren’t strong, but she is also abusive and arrogant and instead of trying to exercise her fatal flaw, she keeps it in her corner like it justifies her every decision.

Nico. I do have more to say about him than the “lone queer character forced out of the closet at gunpoint in a shocking twist reveal” trope but I still, to this day, am confused about what the heck he was doing for two books only to suddenly get kidnapped by giants because the plot demanded it. “Oh we have to rescue Nico he’s suffocating in a jar with pomegranate seeds as his only lifeline.” Why couldn’t we see that battle? It feels like he only showed up as the “Ambassador of Pluto” so audiences could do the DiCaprio pointing meme, sometimes. But of course, the Cupid scene, and how Nico’s entire character is now and forever more defined by his sexuality and the traumas associated with it. Loved the scene for the tension, hated it for what it did to his character.

A few other legacy characters did pop up, like Thalia, but I don’t remember her role well enough to properly comment on it in this post. All I remember is Phoebe getting killed rather suddenly and graphically.

And then the whole “at least one of you is going to die” bait and switch, which could be a whole post on its own. For a series that was supposed to be darker and more adult, more for teenagers than the YA audience, for a book that got as dark as HOO did with everything in Tartarus, to then completely wimp out on the promised major character death on a technicality was definitely. A choice. That was made.

Look I don’t hate these books, I just feel mostly apathetic toward them and I think that’s worse. I don’t need every story I read or watch to have a moral and a message, but when the moral and message was so strong in PJO, to have just nothing to say for a series with a 50% longer wordcount was a letdown. We have to stop Gaea because the world will end. Yeah, okay, we know you’ll do that.

When you have stakes like the end of the world in a fantasy setting, the tension rarely comes from “are they gonna let the world end,” but from what the cost of preventing catastrophe will be. We knew in the back of our minds in PJO that Kronos wasn’t going to win, but TLO opened with a kid blowing himself up in what amounted to a vain effort to end the war early, who’s death haunted his surviving girlfriend so much, she then also died trying to redeem herself for her role in getting him killed. The cost of stopping Kronos was the possibly-avoidable death of a teenager who, at the last second, woke up to his grooming and gaslighting and killed himself to kill the villain.

If I’m not mistaken, BOO opened with Jason in cosplay and he and Piper on yet another fetch quest. Leo technically did die, but he didn't stay that way for long, and the climax was so confusing that I don't recall even being upset about him dying.

I might not remember the story very well, but I do remember this confusing uncertainty while reading BOO for the first time just… waiting for it to get good. The only thing I was holding out on by the halfway mark was somebody important dying to stop this, to make any of this matter. And that did not happen. Considering how manipulative the cliff-hangers were, I wouldn’t be surprised if “oooo somebody gonna die” was just a carrot on a stick to keep readers’ attention to the end.

PJO, what did it all mean? The tragedy of child heroes and the consequences of neglectful parenting, the lives it ruins and the means hurt people turn to just to get the respect and attention they were robbed of by their parents and those who were supposed to care about them.

HOO, what did it all mean? I guess… when the world’s at stake even the oldest of foes can set their grudges aside for the greater good? Even though the main seven weren’t foes, or rivals, and the big climactic Greeks vs Romans battle was kind of background fodder for the grand plan of singing Gaea a lullaby.

Not awful books by any means, but books that were full of bizarre choices in everything from characterization to pacing to conflict both internal and external and a lacking throughline of meaningful tension without a decent, meaningful villain.

#pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #retrospective

7 notes · View notes

insomniamamma · 1 year

Text

We Came Along This Road: Frankie Morales x f!reader

A/N: This one got angsty and a bit personal. My little boy had colic and my milk mostly dried up at around 6 months, but I had to start supplementing with formula long before that. Colic's a funny thing. It really does sort itself out at around 3 months, but those three months are a fucking eternity. Silver Airways is a real regional airline serving the south eastern United States, the Bahamas and Caribbean. Since Triple Frontier was set in Florida, I figured this in an airline Frankie could fly for. His job would probably involve multiple short-hop flights a day. Written for my year of kisses, as part of @yearofcreation2023, the prompt being a kiss goodbye.

Warnings: Drug and alcohol use, hospitals, pediatrician mention, colicky baby, reader has a new baby. Fuck-ton of angst related to raising a child. Emotions that are all over the fucking place. Jumps around in time. Frankie's a fuck up. Broken relationship. No happy ending.

"Can I?" "No. Don't you dare wake him." Frankie bites at his lower lip, that same bit of flesh you used to suck between your teeth when you kissed him. His entire back would lock up when he felt the graze of your teeth, his breath would draw in sharp.

Gabe is colicky. The pediatrician assured you that he would sort himself out at about three months, but that seems like an eternity from now. Doesn't matter if you nurse him or bottle feed him, the bloating and crying happen anyway. Your milk supply is not what it should be. One more thing to worry over, and you've switched formulas but nothing seems to work. You hate yourself for it. This should be easy. When he nurses those big dark eyes are locked on yours clumsy baby fingers patting at your side, looks at you like you hung the moon and stars, but then he's screaming twenty minutes later, face crumpled up, mouth an endless zero, a black hole and you run through the steps in your head, rock him against your shoulder and pound his back to get him to burp and if that doesn't work, there's the simethicone drops and belly rubs and most times he'll fart and his huge eyes will goggle even wider and you laugh, how can you not? Better out than in, huh, buddy? And most times he'll calm after that, but sometimes he won't. Sometimes the moby wrap is the only thing that works, him tied against your chest in a fabric cocoon while you try to keep up with the dishes and washing out the bottles and trying to keep everything in some sort of order so you don't go insane.

Push everything out of your mind except the here and now. Try not to think about how Gabe's dark puzzled eyes had locked on to Frankie's and how Frankie had smiled so broad and wide, tears running unbidden and ignored down his scruffy cheeks, when he'd cut the cord and they'd tucked Gabe against your chest, the fever heat of him, so small and soft and warm. He felt impossible. The lactation consultant had showed you how to get him to latch, you're a natural she said. And the two of you discharged into the care of a flustered Frankie, I can fly a fuckin Blackhawk but this car seat almost got the best of me. Hey language. He doesn't understand yet. No, but he will. I would very much like his first word to not be fuck. Fair enough babe. Fair enough. Frankie looked at you and you both turned to look at Gabe dressed in a onesie with little foxes on it, already sound asleep. Holy shit. We're parents, he said, and those lovely dark eyes shone with tears that strained not to fall. Take us home, Frank.

You try to hang on to that feeling, now that it's just you. Just you and Gabe. Frankie's staying with the Millers for now. You found out he'd been using again late into your third trimester and he'd dropped down on his knees and swore to you that it was a one time thing. You know how they over-schedule us, Babe, his big warm hands folded around yours, eyes locked on your steady and sure and not sliding to the side when he promises you that he's done. I fucked up, squeezes your hands in his and looks up at you from on the floor, around the ripe curve of your belly, but I'm done. I swear to you.

And you wanted to believe him, feeling your son kick inside of you, press against the prison of your body and what choice do you have in that moment but to trust that he means it? The alternative is too bleak to think about. You can't do this alone. You realized that the second you peed on the stick and cried over the results until you couldn't breathe, he said he'd do right by you and, God, you wanted to believe. This shit? You can't get caught, okay? You can't. You think I don't mean it. I don't care what you mean! It's too fuckin late for that, cradling your distended belly in your hands, the baby's kicking, he never stops kicking, you get caught and you lose your job. You lose your job you lose our insurance. You got an extra 15k laying around? You get caught and we're fucked. I won't get caught. I told you, I'm done. And I'm telling you that you cannot get caught with this shit.

Gabe's finally down after what feels like hours so shushing and rocking and simethicone drops and tummy rubs, held him tucked against your shoulder listening to old country songs, Johnny Cash and Pasty Cline and Loretta Lynn, held him and rocked with him until he went slack against you, fever-warm and drooling into the crook of your neck. Prickling cramp in your tits and you carry him up the stairs, dribbles of milk let down warming and then cooling through your shirt. You'll pump, or try to, once you get Gabe settled, not that you expect much. You know that having to give Gabe formula doesn't make you a bad mom, you know that in your mind, but it's hard to hang on to that when the internet is full of contentedly nursing mothers with babies who sleep through the night and don't scream like the world is ending after every feeding. Settle him in his crib and hover. He stirs, stretches his arms on either side of his head like a cartoon cactus but doesn't wake. His mouth moves like it does when he nurses, tiny Cupid's bow of his lips pursed around nothing, but at least he's asleep.

I know it's hard now, but around three months he'll sort himself out, or so the pediatrician said, but that seems like an eternity from now, a whole different age. And for now Gabe sleeps, cactus arms stretched on either side of his head, but you know he won't stay down for long. You debate the merits of trying to sleep versus trying to tackle the mountain of dishes in the sink, trying to pump even though it's an increasingly fruitless venture, and then the door bell rings. It's not loud, about the volume of a stifled cough but your first reaction is rage.

You are so angry you can't even make words. The form letter from Silver Airways trembles in your hands as you shove it into Frankie's face when he comes in the door, his hands raised, as if that will make things better somehow. Suspension pending review, that phrase stood out when you opened the letter and the rest dissolved into tear-blurred hash, You fuckin told me you were done with this shit!-- Whoa hey Babe-- You got down on your knees and promised me you were done and now you go and get yourself shit-canned? What the fuck were you thinking? I know it sounds bad, Frankie takes a step back from you, hulking large in the door frame, But they've got a program, ok? For first time violations. Other than this my record is spotless. I'll make this right-- You won't, you say and his eyes go dark and hard, Gabe's high, reedy cries rising in the background, You couldn't stay clean for him. You won't stay clean because of what some councilor tells you. What are you trying to say? Tears run hot down your face but inside you are cold as the space between stars, a future stretched before you dark and wide, one that for the first time since you fell pregnant does not involve Francisco Morales. I think you should leave. He reaches to rest a hand on your upper arm, a gesture of comfort, of grounding, a gentle touch you've felt so many times before, but you bristle back as if burned. Are we-- Just go. I'll call, he says, retreating into the dark, M'not gonna ditch you. You don't say anything, just watch his headlights turn on, the rumble of his battered truck backing out of the driveway, crunch of tires on gravel and then the endless bug music and humid night.

I just got him down, you think, pulse hammering in your ears as you descend the narrow stairs, rushing to get there before the bell can ring again, not much louder than a stifled cough but with the struggles you've had getting Gabe to sleep it might as well be a sonic boom. "I'm coming," you call as soon as you think it's safe, something like a stage-whisper, open the door and there's Frankie, filtered through the window screen, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes shining in the ugly yellow porch-light, little glittering arcs beneath the bill of his hat. "Hey," says Frankie. And that knot clenches in your chest. Anger and grief and want all smeared together. You miss him, looking right at him in the bug-humming glow, soft pink!pink!pink! of moths and junebugs and christ knows what else suiciding into that sizzling orb, nothing you're feeling makes itself into words, you're so tired, so fucking tired, eyes filling up with tears, you cry so fucking easily these days and Frankie's through the door and folding you up in his arms before you can tell him to go to hell, that you don't want to see his face, sink into his familiar warmth, his palm cradling the back of your head, tucking you into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he smells like laundry soap and beer, faint tang of sweat, warm and solid and despite everything you want to stay there forever, you want to be soothed, to be rocked and held and you are just so goddamn tired, but you extricate yourself and step back from him, scrubbing your wrist across your eyes. "Why are you here?" "I wanted to see Gabe." "He's sleeping. I just got him down." "Something's come up," says Frankie, "I've got a job, and I'm gonna be out of town for a bit." He's smiling, but it doesn't quite hit his eyes. "A bit? How long's a bit?" "Ten days at most. I won't be able to contact you though." "Christ. I thought you were done with this kind of shit." "The money's good," says Frankie, "It's just a quick recce. One and done. Redfly's with us this time." His hands find yours, fiddles absently with the ring you can't quite bear to take off just yet, squeezes your fingers. "It'll be enough to see us through til I complete the program and get my wings back."

You wouldn't let the nurses take him out of the room for tests. And when they tried to appeal to Frankie, all they got back was, you heard the lady. Gabe stays right here unless she decides different. You can do the tests in here. He can sleep right here. So they let him stay, swaddled and tiny, soft, snuffling breaths and you slept with your hand reaching into his crib, plastic box on a cart on wheels, your hand on his tummy, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, Frankie passed out on the narrow couch, hat pulled over his eyes. Gabe's here and he's perfect and he's yours, and you drift off to the rhythmic breathing of the two people you love most in the whole world.

"When do you leave?" "Tomorrow morning," says Frankie, takes his hat off and rubs his hand through his curls before putting it back on, a nervous gesture you've seen many times before. "Can I see Gabe? I've missed you guys so much." "It took me forever to get him down." "I just need to see him, okay?" "This job. This recce. How dangerous is it?" "It'll be fine," says Frankie, "Pope's gathering intel and we're backing him up. Low contact. Everything goes right the mark won't even know we've been there." "Where?" "Better you don't know, babe." "Jesus." "Hey," he curls his hands around your upper arms and gives you a little shake, "I'm not gonna ditch you okay? I'm not ditching him. I'm going to make this right, okay?" The breath that comes out of you is wet, wavering, and you nod, not sure if you believe him or if you just desperately want to, and those big brown eyes meet yours, his gaze sure and steady. You nod. "Yeah. Okay."

You and him stand side by side, peering down at Gabe in the soft greenish light from the swirling stars projected on the ceiling, soft hiss of white noise that he seems to prefer, his tiny hands balled up on either side of his head. Cactus arms. "He's filling out some," says Frankie, voice pitched low. "He is." Gabe's face has lost the newborn scrunch, "He's a little behind growth wise. The colic--" "He's perfect," says Frankie. Fake stars pass over his face, shifting light shining in his eyes. And you feel yourself smile, as tired as you are. "He's gonna be just fine." Frankie reaches into the crib and strokes the pad of his thumb between Gabe's eyes, and you draw a hard inward breath. Gabe's faces screws up and then smooths out, lips purse and suck at nothing. Frankie leans over the crib. "Hey little man, Se bueno con tu mamá, ¿vale? I'll be home soon." Frankie presses two fingers to his lips and kisses them, presses them to your sleeping son's forehead. Gabe stirs but does not wake.

You stand in the ugly light with Frankie, bugs doing their endless, mindless dance in the yellow glow and his hands find yours again, warm and calloused and familiar and gentle, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles. "I'll call. Soon as we're back state-side. We'll figure things out from there." You pull your hands away. "Sure." "Take care of yourself. You won't do Gabe any good if you run yourself into the ground." Turns and walks down the path to the driveway, turns back to you and smiles. "Stay off of those fuckin mommy blogs, okay? Those people are crazy." And you laugh. Frankie fuckin Morales. He can always surprise a laugh out of you. And for a moment it feels like before, before he started using again, before he got busted, before Gabe, just you and Frankie sharing a laugh, his eyes crinkled and warm, that sweet dimple sinking itself into his scruffy cheek, curve of his cheek as he turns from you, boots crunching over the pea-gravel driveway as he retreats into the dark. Dark that swallows him whole beyond the weak circle of porch-light, you can still hear his footsteps, fading into the endless, mindless song of crickets and rising scream of cicadas. You know in a moment you will hear his truck start up, rumble of a muffler that badly needs replacing. You almost call out to him, but you do not.

#year of kisses #frankie morales x f!reader #year of themes 2023 #triple frontier #heed the warnings kids #angst for days

43 notes · View notes

k8fics · 2 years

Text

Ruined Legacy

My Way to Freedom

summary: Based off “My Way” by Frank Sinatra; Joel & Ellie find a curled up woman in a farmhouse with a freshly dead guy outside — Episode 1 of the ‘Ruined Tragedy’

rating: R - just reader’s backstory & character building (my bad), some joel splattered in there tho, she cannot catch a break, abusive/toxic relationship (not joel), murder, brutally killings, dead parents, captivity (kinda? idk man), thoughts of suicide, cussing, hopefully that’s all

And now the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

I still remember how my mother woke me up that night; tears streamed down her face, and her entire body shook. How she frantically grabbed my hand, pulled me towards the basement door, sat me down on the cold ground, and told me to wait down there while she received a call for help from my father.

I still remember how I stared at the small window, covered by the dusty curtain. How the lights from the outside world showed through the glass, the orange hues, the flashes of car lights, the shadows of people’s feet running away.

I still remember waking up down there. This time, my parents were with me, arguing over each other. My mother paced with her arms flailing out, my father leaning on the concrete wall with his arms crossed.

“We can’t just leave! You heard the TV, we’re instructed to stay inside!” She yelled.

“And you saw what’s out there. We have to get out of here, who knows if they’ll start bombing again.” He said calmly. She only sighed in response, stopping and looking directly at me.

I stayed silent, still acting like I’m asleep. But she could tell I was awake. Mom always could tell. She walked over to me, with a smile. Although, the smile was fake. I could tell she was scared.

She put her hands on my face, I leaned into her. “Hey, baby... We gotta go, let’s start packing.” She said, pulling me up.

As I walked to my room, and she walked to hers, I looked out the window. Your neighbor’s house still burning from the night before, the ground covered in blood and ash. The world has gone to complete shit.

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my chase of which I’m certain

“Who the fuck are you?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by a gravelly voice. You looked up to see a girl and a man. You glanced around to see you were in the same room you had been stewing in for the past day.

You opened your mouth to speak, lips cracked from the lack of moisture. “..I stay here.” You stated, not in the most cohesive terms though.

The man still had his gun pointed at you, looking at you and then at your surroundings. “So why is there a freshly dead guy on your porch?” It was like he was a detective investigating you. Although, a detective’s attitude would be less intimidating than his.

“I killed him.”

I’ve lived a life that’s full

I travelled each and every highway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

My father was always a survivalist. He taught me how to make a fire out of sticks, how to hunt — even when I was begging him not to make me shoot an innocent creature, — and, starting last year, how to defend myself.

He said something about ‘it was better to be prepared and nothing happen than to be unprepared and have something happen.’ I guess he was right, at least we’re prepared. Though, I don’t think he expected his 16-year-old daughter to be using these skills so soon.

After the first month of walking through decaying neighborhoods, buildings, and streets, I was put on map duty. I didn’t mind it, it helped me think. I didn’t want to think about who and what was lost, how all my friends were gone, how my life and future were ruined.

Regrets I’ve had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exception

The walking was the worst part, and although the pain in my feet was unbearable, the pain of walking away from the only life I’ve ever known hurt more. I wished I could have told that guy in my 3rd period I liked him, I wished I told my friends I loved them more, and I wished I could be with them without my parents grieving my death.

I wish I didn’t have to kill. Even though it was only a few, it kept me up at night. I would close my eyes and only see their bloodied faces. I would fall asleep and see them beside me.

I tried so hard to not let it get to me. I had to do it. If not for them, it would’ve been me. Maybe it would’ve been me.

I planned each chartered course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

My parents met Tim as they were going on a supply run while we were stationed at an old house. He had been staying in the overgrown convenient store tending to his wounds when they came in.

Dad said the man didn’t even put his gun up just kept his hands above his hands. Mom said he showed them a bunch of supplies that hadn’t expired. They said he was a good man.

I had just planned our next ‘trip’ when they brought him. He was pushy and, honestly, very arrogant. Even if he didn’t show it around my parents. He wasn’t ugly, but I had no attraction toward him.

“I guess he’s just not my type.” I told my mom when she asked why I didn’t ‘give him a chance.’

She laughed at my response, “Well honey, just give him a chance. It’s been 6 years since you went on a date-“

Before she could speak further I interrupted her, “Yeah Mom, 6 years since the world went to shit. I don’t need some guy to protect me, you know? I have you guys for that.”

And she laughed. God, I missed her laugh.

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

It had only been a few months since Tim joined us. I could see something was wrong with him. His eyebrows were always furrowed like he was trying to figure out the hardest math problem. His jaw clenched when my dad talked to him, sometimes I thought he was going to hit him.

To my dismay, he was much pushier. He would constantly want to be around me, he would always go with me on my runs, and, worst of all, he would not stop asking me out.

After the tenth time that week, I had enough. “Where would you take me out to, Tim? What? The woods? The old diner down the street that’s infested with the infected? Oh! Or do you want to go to the shed by the creek where the clickers are?” I said, no yelled.

His face changed completely. The cocky smile contorted into the same expression that scared me throughout these months. “You’re going to regret saying that.” That’s all he said before walking towards his place of residency for the time being.

Later that night, I woke up to several grunts and pleas. As I tried to move my hands up to rub my face, I realized that my body had been attached to a rope wrapped around a tree. I looked around at my surroundings, I was outside in an open area in the woods. In front of me were my parents in the same predicament as myself.

I called for them. They didn’t respond, both of them looking off to the side. I turned my head as much as I could to see what they were looking at. To my shock, it was Tim standing there. Leaned up on a tree, axe in hand. When I called for him instead, that’s when all three of them turned to look at me.

My mom looked like she had been crying for hours. My father looked furious, a face I hadn’t seen in a long time, his face was bruised and bloody. His right eye was swollen shut and his nose bleeding. Tim looked the opposite, he was clean like he had taken a shower moments before, although, his knuckles were bleeding, and his face. God, he looked ecstatic.

He walked over to me, his axe still gripped tightly in his hand. He looked down at me before placing a hand on my face. I flinched, his face looked like it did that afternoon prior.

“You should’ve just except my fucking date. Now, look at what you made me do.” He said.

I shook my head, “Please... My sorry, please don’t do this.” I pled, but all he did was walk over to my parents.

I scream at him for what felt like an eternity but his back still faced me. He only looked at me when he got in the face of my mother. When I looked into his eyes, I knew he wasn’t going to stop, no matter what I did.

I watched him kill them both with the axe. I couldn’t protect them. I could only cry. The most undeserving deaths. Just for what? A date?

He came over to me quickly after killing them both. I had stared at their corpses for so long that I hadn’t noticed him cutting the rope. I ran to them as soon as I was free. Not long after, he came after me.

But through it all when there was doubt

I ate it up and spit it out

I faced it all and I stood tall

And did it my way

I remember when Tim took me from my home. The way he would talk about my parents was like they were some problem in my life. How I didn’t need them, I was too old anyways. It felt like he was jealous of it all, that I had my family and he didn’t. I found sympathy in him, in a way.

‘Maybe it’s the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in.’ I would think. But then again, he murdered my parents because I wouldn’t date him. Who the fuck does that.

One time I brought it up to him, which landed me on the ground with a hard punch in the face. I didn’t talk for the rest of our travel.

One year later, he found a farmhouse. It was impressive, basically taken out of a Hallmark movie. Though my impression of it changed when I got to the children’s rooms, it didn’t take long for him to start commenting about how we should ‘fill them up.’ Fucking disgusting.

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed, and cried

I’ve had my fill, my share of losing

After 13 years of being here, I learned to live — or survive as I like to call it — with him. Sure, I tried to escape a few times, but it never worked out in my favor.

The first time I left, I was gone for a week. I lived in the woods, trying to find some haven which was harder than it looked, considering I didn’t have any access to a map or any weapons. Tim confiscated everything on me the day we left my parents’ rotting bodies.

He found me curled up behind a tree, facing a creek. Fighting him never worked. No amount of self-defense could ever get him down without a weapon. He was bigger than me, and when a stick didn’t work, I gave up.

All the escapes after had been futile, he had set up traps in the woods close to the house, knowing I couldn’t walk on the trail without him seeing me on his day-night searches.

He wanted me to be a stay-at-home-whatever-the-fuck. So fucking be it. I won’t lie, I played the part as much as I could. Whatever would get him to leave me alone. It didn’t work sometimes, but it did for the most part.

So I “loved” him. If love is making him food, cleaning his messes, cleaning his clothes, and letting him hug me.

I laughed at his stupid jokes that I had heard a million times before this shit show.

I cried at night when I had to share a bed with him. Feeling guilty that I couldn’t do anything about this predicament, that I couldn’t find a single sharp thing that could kill him or myself.

And now, as tears subside

I find it all so amusing

He left early that day, earlier than usual. When I woke up he was gone, only leaving a note saying he had gone on another supply run. I scoffed as if we don’t have enough.

I barely know where he goes these days, you would think after all these years, he had found every single store or house, but I guess not.

As I walked to the kitchen, I noticed something abnormal on the table designated for Tim’s backpack. It was a fucking knife.

‘He must’ve left it there when he was searching through it.’ I thought. “Dumbass.” That was all I said before quickly grabbing the handle and pocketing it.

Soon after I was done making eggs — still don’t know where he gets the eggs from, he could’ve at least told me that — he came back. I gave him a short greeting before putting the two plates on the table and sitting down. He sat down next to me, both of us not uttering a single word. It was nice, the silence.

I got up as soon as I was done, cleaning off my plate. Before I could leave, I was entrapped by his arms, pulling me into his chest. I scowl, still not used to touching the horrendous man.

“I love you.” He said. “I-“ Before he could speak any further, I reached behind me and stabbed him the first place I could reach, his left shoulder.

He released me and stumbled away, giving me time to run to the door. As soon as I unlocked and opened the door, I was pushed to the ground, landing on my back onto the dirt in the front yard. Tim was on top of me, panting heavily, his blood and spit dripping down onto my face. I struggled with him as his hands tried to find a way to my neck.

My hands faltered for a millisecond, allowing him to wrap his hands around my neck. I fought with him once more, arms and legs flailing, trying to get him off of me. My attempts were futile. The harder I fought, the harder he gripped my neck.

He smiled menacingly when he saw me losing strength, “You spoiled fucking bitch. After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you're fucking repaying me? Stabbing me with my knife?” He screamed in my face, as I sobbed and kicked.

I accepted my fate, me dying in the hands of the man that has made my life miserable, at least he would leave me alone now. “I should’ve killed you right in front of your mama and daddy.” He said.

Something snapped in me. Sure, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the hatred I consumed for him for years. But I like to think my parents wanted me to avenge their deaths.

To think I did all that

And may I say, not in a shy way

Oh no, oh no, not me

I did it my way

As soon as my right hand felt the unfamiliar, cold object, I quickly grabbed it and hit him once in the head with as much force as I could gain. He was on the ground instantaneously. I got up on her feet taking a few breaths before pulling myself into a defensive position. My hands up and set on the metal pipe securely, eyes focused on the battered man’s wheezing form.

To my surprise, he stayed on the ground, back facing me as he groaned in pain. I stepped closer and kicked him in his backside. “Fucking look at me, you coward.” I snarled, “Look at what you fucking did to me!” I screamed at him, kicking him once more.

This time he decided to look at me. Eyes moving towards me away from the afternoon sky, “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He pled with me. And for a second, I thought about letting him go, but I knew that wouldn’t stop him from trying to find me. This had to end.

I took one step towards his battered body before speaking, “I fucking trusted you. My parents trusted you, and you murdered them like it was nothing! You wanted me to think it was nothing!” I screamed, letting out every single emotion I had felt throughout these years. “I have hated you ever since that night. You didn’t fucking save me! You’re a murdering waste of space.” I admitted.

“I saved you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “You didn’t save me. You ruined me.” I said, before hitting him again. I repeated myself once more before hitting him again for good measure.

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught

When I was done, the man was unrecognizable. His face caved in, bruises showed through the cracks of his clothes, and dirt covered most of his backside. I looked at the body for what felt like an eternity.

I didn’t drop the pipe in her hand until she made herself back inside the house. Closing the door behind me, walking to the kitchen where I once was. I picked up the knife that Tim had pulled out of his arm, placing it in my back pocket.

I looked around the house, an eery silence following me. As glad as I was that he was gone, the loneliness crept behind me. Not that I’d miss that ugly son of a bitch anyways.

My hands darted to the bags that he had left when he departed, quickly going up to them and ripping them open. There wasn’t much for me, Tim was quite a hoarder. He collected unnecessary things. The bag was no different, besides the cans of food and water bottles, the rest was unneeded random objects. Multiple different pans, silverware, and cups. Clothes that would neither fit him nor myself.

I glanced at his backpack that was left on the table, I aggressively grabbed it and looked through it. For whatever reason, he never let me look through it. Something about him sharing everything with me and he deserved privacy. It was laughable considering that he would do monthly checks of the house looking for secret hiding places where I would put my plans of escape.

I completely emptied the bag, object sprawling all over the ground. I rummaged through them, I stopped when I found a piece of jewelry. “Fucking bastard.” I cursed. It was my mom’s, she said one day, it would be mine. Some kind of generation gift I guess.

When I looked further, I found more of my things from so long ago. It was surprising that he kept all these things but wanted me to let go of all of them, even my parents.

I found my old diary, the mp3 player my dad gave me, and a dusty picture of my family that I had kept under my pillow when my parents were still alive. I called him a bunch of insults before picking up what you wanted and packing them into the, once Tim’s, book bag.

Before I started packing my clothes, I passed a mirror and stopped. I inspected myself, my face covered in his blood, my hands still red from the cold pipe outside, and possibly from Tim’s blood.

I rubbed my face, expecting it to come off easily but it had dried faster than I had originally thought. I rubbed more aggressively, eyes tearing up, whispering, “You ruined me.”

To say the things he truly feels

And not the words of one who kneels

The record shows I took the blows

“Tim was a bad man who murdered my parents,” At that the man’s hold on the gun falters, but still stands his ground, “and kidnapped me. I tried to escape, he tried to strangle me, and I killed him with a pipe.” You summarized.

The girl behind the man sighed, “Joel put the gun down, she doesn’t even have a weapon on her.” She tried to convince him.

You made a face, “Actually, there’s a knife in my back pocket.” You said, making them both turn to look at you.

The man, seemingly named Joel, sighed, “Stand up.” You quickly followed his orders. He reached behind you and smoothly grabbed the knife from your pocket, hands brushing over your ass. “Alright, I believe ya. But I saw that guy’s body, I know what you’re capable of. Do you wanna go somewhere else?” He asks, hovering over you for a few seconds after he stopped talking. He took you in before backing away.

“Only if I get to keep the pipe.” You bargained.

Joel scoffed, “Here’s the deal; I’ll keep the pipe safe until we can trust you, 'kay?”

“Deal.”

And did it my way

jesus christ this is so long y’all… hopefully grammarly does me justice bc i’m not reading all of this 😭

#ruined legacy #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us series #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #TLOU #tlou fanfiction #TLOU series #tlou x reader #tlou x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #ellie williams

131 notes · View notes

swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

Text

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II)

Summary: In the wake of the announcement that John Walker would be the new Captain America, (Y/N) lends a patient ear to both Sam and Bucky, and an open-minded Steve gets an important and well-meaning lesson on modern forms of discrimination.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a frank discussion of racism/bigotry

A/N: Writing more Sam and Bucky and their constant squabbling was so much fun, and it really did wonders counteracting how sad it was writing Steve’s emotions about Walker becoming Cap lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II) May 2024 Rockport, Maine (Previous Chapter)

Two weeks later, (Y/N) was sitting alone on her wraparound porch and fiddling with Natasha’s old red hourglass-shaped belt buckle, her lost friend’s treasured memento unable to give her its usual sense of comfort as she listened to Sam talk. He’d filtered through a wide range of emotions in the days since Captain John F. Walker had been named the new Captain America – shock, anger, sadness, outrage – before finally settling on heartbreak. Seeing a white man with the same blonde hair, blue eyes and chiseled physique that the country had come to expect in their Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan did nothing short of break Sam’s heart and – although she was nowhere near a trained psychologist – she suspected that it only served to validate his intrusive imposter syndrome. She’d made it a point to call and check in on him every day since, and she was happy that her best friend hadn’t shut her out; just as he’d been there for her during so many difficult times in the past, she was giving him the strength and support that they both knew he needed.

“I decided not to watch that GMA interview that aired this morning,” Sam sighed over the phone. “I mean, why put myself through all that?”

“Believe me, you didn’t miss anything you couldn’t just find out with a quick Google search. The guy’s like a walking slice of plain white bread.” (Y/N) smiled to herself as her best friend snorted in amusement at her joke. “Scott was blowing up my phone throughout the entire thing; Walker had better watch himself, because he’s only been on the job for two weeks and he’s already got Ant-Man pissed off at him.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tic-Tac angry before and now I kinda don’t want to; all the shrinking and growing still freaks me out a little, and I haven’t forgotten how that little shit deactivated my wings like it was nothin’.” Their laughter faded away into a heavy silence that was eventually broken by Sam. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She frowned in confusion. “For what?”

“For not trying to convince me to talk to Steve about all this. I love the guy, I really do, but with all this that’s happened…it’s somethin’ that he can never really understand. Maybe he will someday, but it’s not up to either of us if he does or doesn’t.” Biting her lip, (Y/N) struggled to think of how best to respond to his statements but he continued on before she could say anything. “So, how’s everyone doing today? Enjoying the warm weather up there?”

“Well, Steve took Carina and Indy for a walk after the GMA interview, so it’s just me holding down the fort; I tried working a little on the first draft of my book but I couldn’t get Walker’s annoying mug out of my mind, so I decided to sit out here and give my best friend a call. What about you? How’s your search for these Flag Smashers going?”

A few days after the new Captain America was announced, Sam told her about the emergence of an anti-nationalist group that aspired to return Earth’s governments and society to how it was after the Snap and before the Battle of Earth: a united world without borders or patriotism that cared about helping each other in times of need. As someone who lived through those turbulent five years and who didn’t necessarily agree with everything the Global Repatriation Council was doing, their initial mission statement sounded appealing to (Y/N); however, their methods were violent and destructive and most concerning of all, they were comprised of suspected super-soldiers and possessed a replica of Doctor Erskine’s serum. An Air Force friend of Sam’s had a close call with the group in Switzerland and for the past two weeks, they’d both been tracking their whereabouts to try and apprehend them.

“Pretty good, actually. Torres managed to track them to Munich and Redwing picked up some aerial footage of their suspected base just outside of the city, so we’re flying out of D.C. at oh-nine-hundred.”

“In that case, I should probably let you go so you don’t miss your flight…” (Y/N) twisted the belt buckle around and around in her grasp and tried not to think about the last friend she’d said goodbye to before an important mission. “Good luck out there, Birdbrain.”

Sam chuckled and replied, “Thanks, Booksmart. I’ll give you a call as soon as I can, okay?”

They both said their goodbyes and after hanging up, (Y/N) sat back in her rocking chair and held her belt buckle to her chest as she closed her eyes. “Keep an eye on him for me, Nat.” Her eyes flew open when her phone rang again and she scrambled to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, doll, it’s Bucky. Where the hell is Sam?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders sagged in sudden realization. “Oh, shit. I take it that you watched the GMA interview…”

“Yeah, I did, and it’s about time that he and I discussed how he just threw away that shield.” The super-soldier’s voice was filled with ire and she could hear his agitated pacing in the background. “I’m at your guys’ old place in D.C. but he’s not here, so I thought you might know where he’s at.”

“Bucky, none of this is going to change what’s happened-”

“Do you know how much it hurt to hear a total stranger sit there with that shield and call himself a brother to Steve? Do you have any idea how it feels to have Steve’s legacy tarnished by a guy who would’ve gladly kicked his pre-serum ass if we were back in the 40’s?”

Clenching her jaw in growing irritation, (Y/N) stood and started pacing across the porch. “Believe it or not, Bucky, I do. You think I didn’t try everything I could to get answers for what they did? It took threatening to go to the press for Senator Smith’s office to return my calls and when they finally did, I got an incredibly condescending explanation about what constitutes as government property. If I went any further than that, then I’d risk my family’s safety and privacy, so now I’m forced to sit by and watch a man who I know isn’t worthy of the shield parade around as Captain America while all those asshats on Capitol Hill congratulate themselves for preserving the so-called sanctity of a mantle that they’ve never understood.”

She could hear Bucky sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to accuse you of not caring or anything. It’s just…that shield, Steve’s legacy…it means a lot to me. And to see Sam just throw it all away for no reason…”

“You want answers? Sam’s scheduled to fly out of Joint Base Andrews at 9 o’clock for an overseas mission, so if you want to talk to him then you’d better make it quick.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem, but can you do me a favor and actually listen to what Sam has to say? He’s really been beating himself up over what’s happened, and you coming in hot with angry accusations isn’t going to make him or you feel better.”

“…Okay, okay, I’ll try. For you.” Bucky’s pacing slowed and she could tell he was weighing his words. “How’s Steve handling all this?”

(Y/N) leaned a hip against the porch railing and looked out at the gentle waves in the distance. “When I figure that out, I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I should probably let you go now; by the time I drive across D.C. and talk my way past the MP’s, it’ll be time for Sam’s flight to take off. I’ll call you soon, doll. Give Carina a kiss for me, okay?”

After they exchanged their goodbyes and she tucked her cell phone back into her pocket, (Y/N) looked down at the belt buckle in her hand and gave it a small smile. “Could you keep an eye on Bucky too while you’re at it, Nat? Something tells me that Sam won’t be traveling to Munich alone…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dinner was delicious, sunshine,” Steve commented later that evening as they cleaned up the kitchen together; there was a mischievous twinkle in his azure eyes when he spared her a brief glance and continued drying the dishes she’d finished washing. “You know, you’ve come a long way from only knowing how to make spaghetti, tacos and scrambled eggs.”

Narrowing her eyes, (Y/N) playfully flicked some soapy dishwater at her chuckling husband. “This coming from the guy who used to boil all his food and who never touched hot sauce until he was ninety-seven.” They finished washing and drying the dishes in comfortable silence, and it wasn’t until after they checked on Carina fast asleep in her crib and made their way back out to the living room that she decided to bring up the subject of the new Captain America. “Sweetheart, if I ask you a question will you promise to give me an honest answer?”

Steve’s brow arched but he nodded all the same. “Of course. What is it?”

“What was going through your head when you saw the announcement naming John Walker as the new Captain America?”

They sat down on the couch and Steve’s hand automatically found hers, his thin fingers intertwining with hers as he considered her pointed question. “Honestly? For a split second there, I thought that I was seeing a ghost on the television screen.” (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion and he continued. “When I was accepted into Project Rebirth and sent to Camp Lehigh, I joined an entire regiment of potential candidates and over the course of a week, we were ordered to complete training that would determine which one of us would be chosen as the SSR’s first test subject. Doctor Erskine made it pretty clear from the beginning that he wanted me, but Colonel Phillips was gunning for a guy named Gilmore Hodge.” He huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Talk about a horse’s ass. Hodge was a bully; he fought with the other guys in the barracks, he cheated during training to get higher scores and he hated that a woman was the one personally overseeing our training.”

“Wait a sec, was he the soldier that Peggy told me about once, the one she knocked onto his ass with just one punch?” Steve nodded and (Y/N) grinned appreciatively. “Peggy Carter was such a bad-ass. So, Walker reminds you of Hodge?”

“Mm-hmm, right down to the blonde hair and blue eyes. Everything I’d read or heard about him since paints him as the perfect soldier, and it was all summed up in that GMA interview this morning.” Steve bit his bottom and looked over at the wall beside their small piano. He’d spent their first month in Maine framing and hanging some of the sketches he’d completed over the years; scenes of his childhood in Brooklyn featuring his mother Sarah and Bucky, portraits of his fellow Howling Commandos and everyone he’d worked with at the SSR, doodles of the laid-back days spent with the Avengers and more drawings of (Y/N) throughout the years than she could count. Doctor Abraham Erskine’s portrait hung proudly towards the center of the wall, a place of honor for the man who changed Steve’s life in more ways than one, and Steve’s eyes softened a little as he continued. “Doctor Erskine came to the barracks to see me on the night before the scheduled procedure. He told me about the time Schmidt took an unfinished dose of the serum and how he became the Red Skull, but then he said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget: ‘The serum amplifies everything that’s inside, so good becomes great and bad becomes worse.’” His azure eyes flicked back over to (Y/N) while the corner of his mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “The second thought that ran through my head after seeing that broadcast was ‘Thank God that they didn’t get their hands on Erskine’s serum too.’”

Sensing his pensive mood, (Y/N) draped her legs over his lap so she could cuddle up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “The government did what the government does best: purposefully overlooked the accomplishments of a Black man in favor of maintaining the status quo. It’s a tale older than America itself.”

“But…” Steve’s voice was filled with an uncertainty that she’d come to associate with him being a man out of time. “Sam was the one who decided to give the shield to the Smithsonian. Unless…did he mention if someone contacted him and convinced him to hand it over?”

“No, no one convinced him. Sam doesn’t talk about it much, but he suffers from something called imposter syndrome; it’s when you believe that you’re less capable than those around you, that any success you’ve had in your life is only the result of luck and that at the end of the day, you’ll be outed as a fraudster. Many, many people of all walks of life struggle with imposter syndrome but it particularly affects the BAME – Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic – community.”

The thumb that had been caressing her knee slowed as Steve carefully asked, “So, when Sam said that he felt like the shield belonged to someone else, what he really meant was that it belonged to someone who looked like me?”

(Y/N) nodded. “To you, you were only passing along a superhero name and a vibranium shield to the person you believed was meant to have them but to Sam, he was faced with accepting a mantle that reminded him of the atrocities of our country’s history and a future where he’d be the first and only Black man ever named Captain America. It’s a heavy burden to bear and in the end, Sam chose to put his well-being first.”

“I didn’t think that…I-I should’ve known…”

Sitting up, (Y/N) cupped Steve’s face and gently coaxed him to look at her, her heart breaking a little as she looked into his distraught eyes. “Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. You only did what you thought was right, and there’s no way that you could’ve known any of this on your own. Sam doesn’t blame you, so you shouldn’t go and start blaming yourself.” She gave him a sad sort of smile. “If only there were more people like you and Sam in the world…I guess I should count myself lucky that I have the both of you in my life.”

Her husband’s expression softened and he shook his head. “Nah, we’re definitely the lucky ones, baby.” His thumb and forefinger lightly grasped her chin and held her steady as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, (Y/N) spent the morning and much of the afternoon on a conference call with Greg and the editors going over the first draft of Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers and while a freshly-inspired Steve worked into the evening on the cover art, (Y/N) set up Carina’s playpen in the garage and kept an eye on her daughter while she worked up a sweat with their suspended punching bag. Her time with the punching bag was when she allowed herself to reflect on the nightmares she experienced as a result of her PTSD; they were usually memories of all the losses she’d suffered at the hands of Thanos, playing over and over on a constant loop in her mind, but exercising helped her acknowledge and slowly push through them.

While she was taking a quick water break and checking Carina for signs of sleepiness, her cell phone began to play the tell-tale tune of Sam’s ringtone. “You hear that, Cari? Uncle Sam’s calling!” The infant clapped her little hands together and (Y/N) grinned as she reached for her phone, but she arched a brow in surprise when she saw that it was actually a FaceTime request; with a shrug, (Y/N) answered and was met with the sight of Sam’s withdrawn face. “Sam? What’s wrong, Sam?”

“It’s probably easier to tell you what isn’t wrong,” Her best friend sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bucky and I went to Munich yesterday and got our asses handed to us by eight super-soldiers, he took me to Baltimore to meet an old man named Isiah Bradley and I got to learn that the Army once experimented on Black soldiers while trying to replicate the serum, Bucky got himself arrested because he missed a therapy session, and I was forced into an uncomfortable couple’s counseling session with Mr. Stares-A-Lot himself.”

“Wow, that was…a lot.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your workout, (Y/N), but after the day I’ve had, I just really needed to see a friendly face.” Sam’s expression relaxed when he caught sight of Carina playing with her stuffed white wolf. “Two friendly faces, actually. How you doin’, cutie-pie?”

“Say ‘hi’ to Uncle Sam, lemon drop.” (Y/N) helped the infant wave her chubby hand at the screen and grinned when her best friend chuckled. “Hey, that got you to smile! Did you want to talk about it?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m too tired to go through it all again.”

Before (Y/N) could reply, Bucky appeared from behind Sam and gave her a half-wave. “Nice to see you again, doll. Is Samuel here tellin’ you all about my time in the slammer?”

“Bucky, are you all right?” She ignored the glares that both men were shooting one another and waved her hand in front of the camera to grab their attention. “Hey, if you guys stop doing that weird macho shit, you’ll realize I asked you a question.” Carina let out a particularly loud coo and (Y/N) glanced over at her with an apologetic smile. “Yes, Cari, that was a bad word that Mommy shouldn’t have said, but your uncles are driving Mommy insane right now.” She looked back at the screen and raised a pointed brow. “How are you feeling, Bucky?”

“Well, I feel better,” Sam interrupted as they walked out onto a sidewalk.

Bucky sighed in annoyance. “I feel awful, (Y/N), but thanks for asking.”

A police car’s siren blared through the phone’s speaker, ending as soon as it began but replaced with a familiar boastful voice. “Gentlemen! Good to see you again.” Instead of hanging up the FaceTime, Sam switched to a normal phone call after exchanging a look with Bucky and although (Y/N) was confused by his action, she listened closely as they approached John Walker. “Who were you talking to? Your girlfriend?”

“My best friend, actually. She was checking in on me, but she had to go.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), right?” (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise but she remained silent, mindful that the phone was on speaker. “I’ve studied the files of all the Avengers in preparation for taking up the mantle, in case I ever have to work alongside them. I sent her an email, you know, giving her my condolences and asking for her personal blessing to carry Steve’s shield, but I guess it must’ve gotten lost somewhere ‘cause I never heard back.”

“That’s because I sent that unopened email directly into the goddamn trash,” She muttered under her breath and heard Bucky cover his snort of amusement with a small cough.

“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance and you guys know that.”

Sam sighed. “So, what do you got?”

“Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

A new voice spoke up, and (Y/N) quickly recognized it as belonging to Lemar Hoskins, Walker’s partner known as Battlestar to the public. “They geo-tagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of those camps.”

Bucky snorted in derision, and (Y/N) could very-well imagine him rolling his eyes in plain view of Walker. “Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip, so I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

(Y/N) listened to the heated exchange between Bucky and Walker with growing concern, and she was thankful when Sam interrupted them before they could escalate. “Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them, but you guys have rules of engagement and all kinds of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible, so it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

There was a moment’s pause before Walker replied, “A word of advice, then: Stay the hell out of my way.”

She could hear footsteps walking down the street and after a minute, the phone call was switched back to FaceTime and she saw Sam and Bucky’s concerned faces on the screen. “So, what do you think of the new Captain America?”

“I think that you two need to be careful around him,” (Y/N) answered honestly, perching herself on the garage’s workbench and shaking her head. “Something seems off with him. I mean, ‘targeting civilians’ was concerning enough, and then he basically threatened you both when you wouldn’t agree to work with him? I don’t know about either of you, but I’m even more grateful that he doesn’t have the serum than I was before.”

“Yeah, me too. Speaking of the serum, it looks like we’ll have to start there if we wanna gather more intel on these Flag Smashers.” Sam glanced over at Bucky walking beside him. “What are you thinkin’?”

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’-”

“Oh, don’t take that to heart, that’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant Hydra.” At Bucky’s statement, (Y/N)’s jaw dropped as she slowly realized what he was intending on doing. “Hydra used to be my people.”

Sam scoffed at Bucky’s implication. “Not a chance.”

“Walker doesn’t have any leads-”

“I know where you’re going with this, no.”

“He knows all of Hydra’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” Bucky shot an imploring look at (Y/N). “C’mon, doll, back me up here.”

(Y/N) bit her lip and carefully thought their less-than-ideal situation over. “It sounds like you don’t have much of a choice in the matter, but you need to make sure you’re mentally prepared to face him again. I remember Siberia, Bucky, but I also remember how he took control of you in Berlin.”

Sam looked over at Bucky with concern in his dark brown eyes. “So, you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?”

“…Yes.”

With a slow nod, her best friend glanced between the super-soldier beside him and his phone screen. “Okay, then. We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

Despite the seriousness of their situation, (Y/N) couldn’t contain her huff of laughter. “Look at you two, already starting to work together like a team. Keep it up and you’ll figure all of this out in no time. Hey, maybe you’ll even end up becoming real friends!”

“You’ve got some imagination, doll; it’s no wonder why Steve fell head over heels for you,” Bucky remarked but managed to give her a half-smile. “Take care while we’re gone, okay?”

“I’ll give you a call as soon as we know more about what we’re dealing with.” Her best friend’s assured tone and the look of determination that was written across his features helped to ease some of her worry for the pair, and he smiled a little when she finally nodded. “We’ll see you soon, Booksmart.”

“Good luck, Birdbrain,” (Y/N) replied and when the FaceTime ended, she sighed and stared at her concerned reflection in the phone’s screen. “And stay safe.” She pocketed her phone and lifted Carina out of her playpen, giving the giggling infant a kiss on the forehead and tickling her stomach before handing her the stuffed white wolf. “You’re absolutely right, lemon drop. Your uncles are going to be okay because they’ve got each other’ backs. C’mon, let’s go check on Daddy and make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep on one of his easels again…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: The next chapter takes place in Delacroix, so buckle up for more angst and shenanigans! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

#stumblin' in #steve rogers x reader #post serum steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #post serum steve rogers #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #john walker #captain america #lemar hoskins #battlestar #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers x f!reader

67 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 years

Text

Now I’m in the last of us

A young woman wakes up in the last of us not knowing what will happen after she only watched two episodes. How will she survive the apocalypse? And will she find Joel and Elli?

AU of the last of us.

read on wattpad

———————————————————————————————

Chapter 1.

When I got home from a full day of work, I cooked myself a nice plate of pasta having the recipes from one of the TikTok videos I watched the day before. After that doing my full-face routine so that it wouldn't matter if I would make it to bed or just crash on the couch as it happened more often than I would like to admit.

I was now pretty invested in the series even though I still didn't know what was happening. But I wanted to know what was happening. At the end of the second episode, I was pretty tired but still wanted to know how it would go on. Letting the auto-play let run through so that the next episode would start. Ellie and Joel were just making their way to frank and bills house when I noticed my eyes getting heavier and heavier.

When I woke up, I noticed immediately that something wasn't right. The first thing I noticed was the smell in my apartment. I turned on my couch and had to sneeze. When my eyes opened everything was full of dust. The paint peels off the walls and my bowels with my snacks smelled awful. I still had my skims on and was clean like the day before but everything else around me looked like it wasn't touched in decades. It was weird and I was thinking that this must be a dream, or I was turning crazy.

Maybe I did work too much? Or my brain was just exhausted? I don't know but whatever I just have to find out what's happening. I walk over to my window looking out to the street where it also looked like in the series. What the hell? It can't be possible that I was actually transported into the series like it often happens in fanfiction where a crazy person writes that some random person is transported into their favorite series just to fall in love with their favorite character.

I mean, first of all, I don't know what's happening in that series and second of all I don't have a favorite character. So please someone explain to me what's happening.

But there's no one here. Not a single person is in that got dam building. I tried looking for my neighbors but every apartment on my floor was abandoned.

My own apartment still looked the same as it did only hours before only full of dust and like it wasn't touched in the last 20 years. I still had all my gadgets like my MacBook my iPhone and all the other stuff it just didn't work anymore. The weirdest thing is that the apartments of my neighbors look like from the beginning of the 2000s. which is especially weird because I myself am only 23 so seeing things that I grew up with is super strange.

I am sitting on my bed holding my legs to my chest crying not knowing what the hell I am supposed to do. The whole day just went over with me sitting on my bed looking out of the window now and then. When evening came, I just laid there till sleep or exhaustion came I'm not sure which it was. I only hoped that my mind was playing games with me, and I would wake up again and everything would be the same as it was before.

When I woke up again this new reality was still around me. I screamed. Ugly tears were running down my face. It felt like I didn't even go to sleep. I didn't drink or eaten anything the day before and the crying most likely didn't help my condition. I went to the kitchen hoping that I had something to eat. Right at that moment I deeply regretted not buying any cans of food like I did when I was a student but no. Two days before I got to this new reality being healthy and doing sports being a fucking stick was the goal not just for me but for a lot of women so yes, I tried to eat as little as possible so that I wouldn't have so much fat on me. I'm not skinny per se but also wouldn't say I'm thick or anything just your normal body type but fortunate enough to have good genes so I was well proportioned. But yes, society still made me try to get skinnier and skinnier. But I often failed. I'm one of the people that wouldn't easily lose pounds but if I only breath around a cake I would gain a few pounds. Thinking about that now seems super ridiculous.

If I really am in the last of us that is. I still haven't seen one of the zombies or whatever they are called. The most I know about them is from the two episodes I watched and the walking dead. But what I could gather from the few episodes is that those two fandoms are completely different and that the zombies from the last of us are way worse and much more dangerous. Well, congratulations to me, I guess.

I found one can of beans being grateful that I still had something. After eating that I tried the sink I was astound that it actually still worked so I had a glass of water to hydrate myself. Afterwards I tried gathering things so that I would even have a chance of survival. Deciding that I couldn't stay here in my apartment forever.

I found out that apparently one of my neighbors was preparing for the end of the world they had a bag and all the things that you would need to survive this hell.

I never thought that after covid I would actually have to be prepared for the end of the world only thinking that the end was quarantine which didn't prepare me for things like that. In quarantine being lonely was the only thing that was hard. But I have to say even then I didn't feel as lonely as I do now. Back then there were still people around me now there was no one.

I gathered all that I could find having a few rations of food for the trip. Even though I still didn't know where to go but I thought it would probably be safer outside of the city than not being able to see what was lurking around the next corner. I also found a knife, a backpack, a lighter which was almost empty, and a gun which I found behind the back wall of a closet. I never in my life used a gun but every guy in apocalypse movies or series had one so I would probably have to use one too. But for now, I didn't actually want to use it, being that it is more likely that I would harm myself rather than the person or zombie I would try to use it on. Maybe I could use it as a threat to people if it ever came to this situation. They wouldn't have to know that I don't know how to use it. Now the only difficulty would be to actually get out of the city. Searching my closet for some clothing that I could use was also a thing. I decided to do some good old fashion layering. Putting on a black sports bra from VS, a black cropped t-shirt from Chanel, an oversized hoodie from harry styles merch, some black cargo pants from Lv, my black buffaloes and I still had my gold jewelry on that I got from my grandma. I know that these clothes might not be the best for the end of the world, but they were the only things I had. After I started working and actually working my way up the job ladder, I had enough money being able to buy designer clothing. Which as you can tell I really did.

Next, I got two water bottles for the way. I started my descent from my apartment. I lived on the 10th floor. I tried to be as quiet as I could be, not knowing what will wait for me when I'm outside. Getting to the ground floor I open the double doors that just a few days ago were always opened by the friendly portier Freddy. He was a lovely older man that was like a grandfather always asking how I was and if I need anything and actually meaning it which made it easy for me to really love him in a paternal way. But now he wasn't here anymore, and I made my way outside. I walked down the street making my way outside of the city. I was fascinated by the different plants that were able to make their way through the tarmac. Maybe that wasn't the most intelligent way though it was beautiful I quickly realized that I really had to watch where I'm going. Just a few centimeters before me there was this trail of cordyceps like I had seen in the series where Joel tolled Ellie to watch out it also was already dead, but it also could have been still alive.

When I turned onto the last street that would lead me to the outskirts of the city, I saw the first person since I got to this god-forsaken reality. I ran to this person; I didn't think in that moment just being happy to see another person but as I made my way nearer and nearer, I realized that this human wasn't human at all. They turned in my direction making me able to see into their face. I got slower and slower till I finally came to a stop. I didn't know what I should do now, but they came nearer and nearer and at a speed that I never would have thought a zombie could move. I tried to get my knife out of my pocket at the side of my pants really panicking now that I wasn't able to do it as fast as I would like to. I had the knife in my hand, but it was still protected which was good because I didn't know how to use it but at this moment, I just wanted to use it as fast as possible. The zombie jumped onto me making me lose the knife on the ground while the both of us also fell. I was able to keep their face far away from my body while also searching with the other hand for the knife. My fingertips were able to make contact with the knife, but I wasn't really able to get to it. The zombie was getting more aggressive when I finally got the knife in my hand. Trying to gather all of my strength I punched the knife through the skull of the zombie using full force. Luckily it stopped moving but now the full weight was laying on me. Making my way from out below the zombie I was glad that my survival instincts kicked in. I didn't really get how I survived this, but I was glad that I was now still breathing even if it was very heavy.

After a break trying to catch my breath again, I walked on and found a brick on the side of the road. After finding some fuel and short-circuiting it (I once saw a video on TikTok on how to do this) I was able to make my way much quicker through the city and over to the suburbs of Lincoln, Massachusetts.

30 notes · View notes

mimisempai · 2 years

Text

You walked into my life like you had always lived there

Summary

Bill wakes up the next morning and all traces of Frank's passage are gone. What if it was all a dream?

Notes

Bill and Frank's story is so beautiful, so real... I wanted to add my little bit to it. Without pretention.

On AO3

Rating T - 2089 words

“So, if I do this, I am gonna stay for a few more days.”

Bill woke up with the last words of Frank's that he remembered in his mind. He moved slowly in bed, his cheeks slightly flushed as he thought about what had happened just after those words.

Once he turned over, he gasped.

No one.

He reached out his hand.

The place next to him was cold.

What if everything was a dream?

What if everything was an illusion?

What if after all this time, he had gone crazy?

Yes.

A dream, that must be it.

Because... how to explain that in less than twenty-four hours, not only had he offered a meal to a man, given him clothes, let him play on his mother's piano?

How to explain that not only had he spent the night with a complete stranger, but had slept by his side in complete trust?

Then how to explain that a man like Frank would want to be with someone like him? Of course it could only exist in a dream.

But it had felt so real.

He dragged himself out of bed and put on his clothes.

He had to fill up the generator, check the gate, and then he could make himself breakfast.

Like every morning.

Nothing had changed.

It had only been a dream.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he couldn't help but look at the piano.

Of course the cover was closed. He couldn't help but open the sheet music case and rummage through it until he found Linda Rondstadt's songbook.

His eyes fell on the last line of the chorus.

“And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time.”

It had been so long since he had sung that song. Long before the epidemic started, so long before.

"So, who's the girl?"

He had just raised his hands from the piano and Frank asked, "So, who's the girl?" He moved closer and clarified his question, "Girl you're singing about?"

Bill shook his head and didn't dare look up as he replied, "There is no girl."

He didn't know what he expected in response but certainly not Frank's warm hand on his shoulder, as warm as his voice when he said softly, "I know."

He also didn't expect the man's lips on his, nor did he expect his teary cheeks when he asked, still with the same smile on his lips.

"What's your name?"

But he recognized the emotion in the other man's eyes.

The emotion that was his when he answered, "Bill."

Bill closed the score book, put it back in the case and closed it with a snap. The sound pulled him out of his reverie.

He muttered deprecatingly, "You idiot, it was just a dream. A fucking dream."

As if to prove him right, when he turned to the dining room, the table was spotless, no leftovers from the previous night's meal, no plates, no glasses, no Beaujolais wine. The chairs were as always neatly arranged around the table and the wood of the tabletop was perfectly clean.

As he opened the bottle of Beaujolais, all he heard were Frank's moans of pleasure as he enjoyed his first bite of meat.

Bill had never cooked for anyone other than his mother in his later years and this was the first time he had seen someone actually enjoy what he had prepared.

He looked at Frank and couldn't help but smile at his look of pure delight.

He said softly but still deprecatingly, "Everything tastes good when you're starving."

Frank shook his head, "Yeah but not like this."

Then Bill poured him the wine and Frank, having just swallowed, added, "A man who knows to pair rabbit with a Beaujolais."

Bill, who really wasn't used to compliments, replied in a self-deprecating tone, barely meeting Frank's eyes, "I know I don't seem like the type."

But the other man's expression became serious again and, boring his clear gaze into Bill's, he said gently but firmly, "No, you do."

They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, and Bill, not being able to take it anymore, looked down and returned to his seat on the other side of the table.

He had this strange feeling that Frank had seen him. That Frank knew him.

Intimately.

Bill chuckled bitterly.

More proof that this had all been a story from his imagination. Because in reality, if there was a Frank and Frank knew him, there was no way he would want to stay with someone like him.

He'd had dreams a long time ago. Because before he was a paranoid survivalist, he had been a dreamy teenager. Introverted and dreamy.

And he had to admit that the Frank of his imagination was exactly the kind of person he dreamed of. He dreamed about it because it was exactly the kind of person he would never meet in reality.

"Oh crap, you're up already!"

Bill turned with a sharp movement to find himself facing Frank who was holding a tray with everything needed for a breakfast for two.

The other man continued to speak, "Did I wake you up? Yet I tried not to make any noise. I wanted to surprise you! You looked like you were sleeping so soundly then I- Bill?"

Bill had come up to him and was reaching his hand toward his face, hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid to touch him. He moved closer still until his fingers brushed Frank's cheek. At first very lightly, then more strongly.

Frank, looking puzzled, asked again, "Bill?"

Bill swallowed several times and whispered in a shaky voice, "You...you're real?"

Frank chuckled softly, "Yes, absolutely real." Then, seeing from Bill's expression that the question was not a matter for joking, he set the tray down on the buffet beside him and turned again to Bill, whose hand had hung in the air where it had touched Frank's cheek. He grasped the other man's hand and, kissing the palm gently he repeated determinedly, his eyes in Bill's, "Yes, I am real."

Bill shook his head, and with his voice tight with emotion, whispered, "That's not possible. This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. It can only be a dream."

Frank smiled fondly and cupped Bill's face in his hands, "I'm flattered that you think I'm from a dream, but this kind of thing really happens to you and it's reality." He gently pressed his lips to Bill's in a long, deep kiss. Then sliding his hands down the other man's arms, he grabbed his hands and pulled him toward the table from which he pulled out one of the chairs and made Bill sit down. Frank pulled out another chair to sit across from him and grabbing the other man's hands again between his own, he asked him softly, "What made you think this wasn't real?"

Bill lowered his head and with his eyes on his hands in Frank's, he suddenly felt like a complete idiot. One of Frank's hands released his and grabbed his chin, making him lift his head, "Hey, don't be like that. I'm not blaming you. I genuinely want to know."

Frank caught a strand of Bill's hair that fell in front of his eyes and pushed it back behind his ear. This simple, delicate gesture brought tears to Bill's eyes. Frank insisted, and said as gently as ever, "Tell me..."

Bill swallowed the lump in his throat and with his voice above a whisper, he explained, "When I woke up I was alone, I... the piano was closed, the sheet music was put away, the table was clean, there... there was no trace of you. And then did you look at me... ? I had every reason to believe that it had all been a dream. How could I have believed otherwise? How could someone like you... with someone like me?"

Bill was trying hard to hold back the tears, not wanting to appear weaker than he already was. But still, one managed to escape and was intercepted gently by Frank's thumb, which wiped it away gently.

"Oh Bill..."

Frank leaned over and gave him another long kiss before replying, "This morning I was up early, force of habit. And as I told you, you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you up. Then, if, as I understood, you are someone who likes things to be in their place, I put everything away as it was before. I'm sorry, I didn't think that-"

Bill shook his head, "No, please don't apologize, I'm the one who-"

Frank stopped him by putting a finger to his lips, "Stop that right now. Like I told you last night, I'll stay a few more days, at least. And I have one condition. There will be no 'someone like me' and 'someone like you'. There will be no 'I don't seem like the type.' You are not less than me and I am not more than you. I know it all happened quickly, I know we're still a long way from knowing each other, but I also know that I feel the promise of something strong."

Bill shook his head, but Frank continued, "Don't tell me it's because there's no choice. Because it seems to me that tonight neither you nor I were there as a consolation prize, if you know what I mean. Bill, I don't know much about you, but what I can tell you is that you are worth so much more than you think. So much more. And I want to be there to make you realize that. If you want me to. So if you tell me to leave because you don't want anything to do with me, I'll leave. No hard feelings. But be clear, be honest, no false reasons like you won't be good enough for me or I'll be too good for you or anything like that."

Bill felt at that moment like he was on the edge of a precipice, he could either jump into the unknown or just back away to a safe place. His instincts were screaming at him to get back to safety but could he go back after what had happened in the last few hours? Could he go back to what his life was like before? Did he want to?

Without Frank.

Who in a few hours had broken down one barrier after another.

“Everything tastes good when you're starving.”

“Yeah, but not like this.”

“A man who knows to pair rabbit with a Beaujolais.”

“I know I don't seem like the type.”

“No, you do.”

“So, who's the girl? Girl you're singing about?”

“There is no girl.”

“I know.”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“With a girl a long time ago, but...”

Yeah, I know, so... I'm gonna start with the simple things.”

“If I do this, I am gonna stay for a few more days. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

Of course he couldn't go back.

"Okay, I get it."

He was pulled from his thoughts by the voice of Frank who was withdrawing his hand from Bill's cheek and starting to back away. For the first time since they had known each other the smile was gone from his face.

Bill grabbed his hand and whispered, "Stay."

Then he repeated louder and more clearly, "Stay. Please. Stay."

The smile returned to Frank's lips as he replied, "Yeah. Yes. I'll stay. I'll stay."

This time it was Bill who reached out to Frank. He was the one who brought his face to his and pressed his lips against his.

They kissed for a long time, both crying in the kiss, and when they broke apart to catch their breath, they chuckled softly together.

After a few seconds Frank planted one last kiss on Bill's lips and in a lighter tone said, "Let's get that breakfast." He continued to speak as he stood up, "So I don't know what you usually have, so I made a little of everything. I hope you don't mind me wasting some of the groceries, but I did what I-"

He set the tray down in front of Bill, who put his hand on top of his and said simply, "That's perfect like that."

Frank smiled again and nodded before taking a seat next to him.

Bill looked briefly at the other end of the table. Yet another barrier broken.

Yes, it was perfect like that.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Bill and Frank masterlist : here

#the last of us show #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou #bill and frank #bill/frank #bill the last of us #frank the last of us #I love them already so much #episode 3 related

26 notes · View notes

hayffiebird · 2 years

Text

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 33

Hayffie Post-mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M SUMMARY: Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more? Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming. Chapter 33 Clouds on the horizon Mrs. Pluckrose had a silver door knocker shaped like a wolf’s head. It shone with moist after the latest rain. Empty eyes stared into Effie’s when she lifted the heavy ring between its jaws and knocked three times. The November wind whispered in the apple tree and she wrapped her cardigan, Haymitch’s cardigan that was, tighter around herself as she waited. Almost a full minute passed and right when she thought they would simply ignore her, the door swung open. Mrs. Pluckrose’s ten year old looked back at her, startled and big-eyed, standing there in his stocking feet and red knitted sweater with blue dots on it. Then his face closed shut and he stared her down, defiantly and suspicious. “Hello, Timothy. Is your mother home?” But she needn’t ask for now Mrs. Pluckrose herself appeared in the doorway, next to her son. “Something I can help you with, Ms. Trinket?” Effie’s gaze flitted to Timothy who remained behind his mother’s skirts. “Do you want to tell her, Timothy or shall I?”

When there was no response her attention returned to Mrs. Pluckrose. “Your son has been harassing my children. Calling them names.” “I didn’t! I just…” “Today wasn’t the first time either and I will not stand for it.” Mrs. Pluckrose turned to her son. “Have you said anything inappropriate, Timmy?” Timothy worried his bottom lip. Looked surly from Effie to his mother. “No. I only said what you…” “In!” Mrs Pluckrose snapped, pointing. “Go to your room!” The boy shot one last glance at Effie and walked off. With him gone Mrs. Pluckrose turned to her neighbor again, smiling a smile sweet as a lemon. “I’m sure this is nothing but a big misunderstanding. You probably just heard him wrong, that’s all. I know how tiresome the baby years can be.” “I heard him perfectly clear, Mrs. Pluckrose.” “Our Timmy is a good boy. And this is a good neighborhood. Nothing like what you said has ever happened before. Not until you moved here.” “Oh, my dear Mrs. Pluckrose,” said Effie and shook her head. “If you are bent on playing this obtuse, then can I at least talk to Timothy?” The neighbor flashed another sweet-sour smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “That is never going to happen, Ms. Trinket. Pardon me for being so frank but if you feel like the Capitol isn’t agreeing with you then there’s always the option of moving. Why don’t you just heed my advice and take your family back to District 12. You’ll be happier for it.” xXx “I should’ve gone.” More rain tapped against the glass ceiling of the roof terrace while Effie poured coffee for them both. “Goodness no.” She checked on Amy sleeping in her baby bouncer before settling into the sofa with her cup, her feet tucked underneath her. “I’m way too exhausted to wipe that woman’s blood off the walls.” Ian moved sleepily against his father’s chest but with the rocking of the old hammock he didn’t wake up. Haymitch rubbed his free hand against his aching eyes. Felt like someone had poured sand into them. Effie was probably right. A few weeks ago she wanted fresh tulips to celebrate the fact that the house was now hers. Later, when they pushed the stroller out of the flower shop they crossed paths with an elderly couple. 80 years old or more. Him leaning heavily against a cane and dressed in a pearl gray suit and matching hat. Her, petite and viciously laced up with a dead Eastern bluebird on top of her elegant hairdo. “Oh, don’t mind about them, dear,” the old lady said and patted her husband’s arm. But the man had halted to a stop and when Effie met his frosty stare with her head high he spat on the ground. “Filthy half-breeds!” “Hey, pal!” Haymitch shouted after them. “If you don’t want me to knock those false teeth out you’ll keep your opinions to yourself!” So yeah. Haymitch had always fancied himself a level-headed man. Someone who could keep his cool under pressure. Even be diplomatic when the situation called for it. But with Amy and Ian… If something threatened them, he saw red every time. “Do you want me to take him?” Effie asked when Ian let out a long whine and bumped his mouth into Haymitch’s shoulder. “No, it’s alright.” He kissed the top of his son’s head. “Boy’s just determined to have his father jump off the fire escape. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” In response, Ian hiccupped and the next moment something warm ran down Haymitch’s shoulder. Effie burst out laughing and covered her mouth with her hand. Haymitch shot her a look. “You gonna do that every time they spit up on me?” Effie cleared her throat to try and contain herself but her eyes glittered with mirth as she helped him with the paper towels. “At least you have a burp cloth,” she said. “If you could just remember wearing it. That’s more than I had when you puked on me during the Games.” Down bellow, the door bell suddenly rang in a fury, followed by a thunder of feet and distant laughter. Haymitch sighed. In the weeks and months that followed their first visit, they’d spent a lot of time in the Fountains of Youth. Other places too. The river Theseus, Cupid’s Garden. Always in the morning when the least people were up and about, giving them a hard time. But it was only kids who advanced like this. Who dared more than looks and whispers. And Timothy Pluckrose wasn’t the only one. Far from it. It got so bad that Haymitch and Effie would probably have kept to the roof terrace with its bullet proof glass as much as possible, if it was all up to them. It wasn’t a bad place for someone who needed a break from the world. If not a safe haven, then at least a quiet, peaceful hideout, overflowing with potted plants. A comfy couch, armchairs. Soft carpets. A small book case stood in the corner filled with children’s books and glossy magazines and a family of Effie’s origami frogs. In here they fed and changed and cuddled the twins. Read them bedtime stories and played records for them on their grandfather’s old gramophone. Even enjoyed a good lunch or a catnap, when given the chance. It was a good house. No matter what his feelings were toward the rest of the Capitol, he had to accept that it really was. The rooms, the roof terrace, the little garden with the tree and the wishing pond. A good place for children. And with each memory built that included them, the more it became their house. Amy and Ian’s. And that made it the one place in the Capitol he could actually stand. But Amy and Ian loved being outdoors. They loved riding in the stroller. Especially through the Fountains of Youth. Haymitch didn’t know if it was the sound of water or the wind chimes or simply the soft bumps and bounces of the stroller itself but it was the single best way to make them fall asleep and sleep hard. Overall, their sleep cycle was out of whack, despite Effie’s careful planning. When she was still pregnant, it had seemed like a non-issue – staying up with a newborn at three in the morning – since he’d be awake anyway. But what he didn’t take into account was the fact that Amy and Ian needed him just as much during the day. Every day. 24 hours a day. No wonder sleep deprivation was used as a torture method. He’d confess anything at this point. The crying was another matter. Effie said it was all normal but he’d be damned if her genes hadn’t given them a head-start in the voice department. Because how else could someone so small be so fucking loud? He’d be deaf in one ear before their first birthday. His entire existence had narrowed down to just recognizing what the twins needed and give it to them. Course, his life hadn’t exactly been chockfull of ambition prior to them either. Or any kind of meaning, for that matter. xXx ”Tattletale! District breeder! Twelve Whore!” Hands banged on the windows and the twins shrieked, startled awake just minutes before being put down. “Goddamn punks!” Haymitch hauled himself out of bed. Seeing him coming, the kids fled, giggling hysterically. He slammed the window open. “Come back here, you ignoramuses!” Their laughs echoed as they all scattered to the wind. “Go back to District 12, traitor!” one of them piped. ”It’s OK. It’s OK, baby girl. I’m here. Mama’s here.” Amy wailed in Effie’s arms. Ian too, alone in the crib. That’s what finally moved Haymitch from the window. “Come here. Don’t cry, little ‘un.” He lifted his son up, holding him close. “I ain’t never gonna let anyone hurt you. Not ever.” Haymitch knew his children’s cries. Had heard plenty of it since the moment they were born. He’d even started to recognize some of them, able to tell what cry meant what, with Effie’s help. But he had never heard anything like this and he never wanted to again. The wrong cries. Frightened cries. Like they were scared out of their minds. He cradled Ian close to his chest, rocking him. With his hands clutched into fists the baby wailed from the top of his lungs. Amy did too and all they could do was waiting for it to pass. Ian calmed down first. With his little face buried in his father’s sweater, the safe and familiar smell comforted him. Amy had a worse time. Sometimes there was a pause in her cries with nothing but the occasional whimper but then it was like she remembered it anew and it set her off all over again. Effie rocked her and kissed her and whispered a soft lullaby. Wonderfully out of tune, yes, but the sound lit an idea in Haymitch’s head. “Come. Imma try something.” Holding the twins, they headed for the living room. Haymitch laid Ian down on the couch and Effie had a seat next to him with a crying Amy to her chest. June and Annabel’s piano went with all the rest of the furniture when the moving van rolled out of the Capitol but Effie had one herself. One that belonged to her parents, though not nearly as fancy. Now Haymitch pulled out the music stool in front of it and had a seat. With his fingers on top of the ivories, slow and sweet music filled the air. His first performance since before they were born. It was one of her absolute favorites. Haymitch had played it to her as many times as she liked during the pregnancy. Baby Mine. That’s right. Or Babies Mine as Effie’d come to call it. A mountain air as old as the hills. Haymitch even taught her the lyrics when asked. She heard the words in her mind now, just as clearly as she did the music. Amy quieted down as the music registered. With tears shining on her cheeks her cries turned to sniffles and then nothing at all. Ian nibbled on his knuckles, blinking up at the ceiling. Both the twins listened, in wonderment over the sounds. Then, almost immediately, their eyelids started drooping. “Oh,” said Effie in a hushed voice. “I think they remember.” Haymitch’s dirty blonde hair fell into his eyes as he kept playing the soft lullaby. Effie kissed Amy’s temple, holding her with one arm; her other hand rested against Ian, throughout the rest of the song. xXx “You should’ve let a Capitolian knock you up instead of me.” Haymitch lay on his side, watching Amy and Ian’s chests rise and fall with each breath. They slept soundly now, lying in the middle of the bed, safe between their parents. Effie met his gaze from the other side, caressing their hair. “What kind of rubbish is that?” “I’m serious. You wouldn’t be having this problem if they weren’t my blood.” “Don’t start that again. I don’t care what people think. Amy and Ian are yours and it’s exactly how it should be. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. You know that.” “OK,” he said. “What about them? What will their lives be like?” An hour later the cab pulled up to the curb. The glowing sun was on its way down, setting the world ablaze. Just the kind of orange Peeta loved. Mrs. Pluckrose stood in her doorway, watching them lift the last of their bags into the car. So giddy she was practically flying on her feet. “We’ll be sorry to see you go,” she thrilled. “Oh, just let it be, Effs,” said Haymitch but Effie had already turned around and left him there with the twins, slumbering in their child safety seats. “We’re not moving, Mrs. Pluckrose,” she said, coming face to face with the neighbor. ”We’re going to District 12 to visit our other children.” Mrs. Pluckrose snorted a laugh. “Your children?” “That’s right. And while we’re being this neighborly, let me just inform you that if you don’t teach your son some decent manners until I get back I might just tell your darling husband about the gentlemen you enjoy spending time with while Timothy’s at school.” Mrs. Pluckrose’s face turned an ugly red. “That’s a filthy lie! And even if it wasn’t, my Carl would never believe the words of a fallen woman like yourself!” “Maybe he will and maybe he won’t. Do you really want to take the chance?” Mrs. Pluckrose’s teeth were clutched so tightly it was a miracle they didn’t shatter like dinner plates at a tourist attraction. Her pale eyes stared into Effie’s who looked straight back, steadfast and unwavering. ”Twelve Whore,” she murmured through pressed lips. “Capitol cunt,” said Effie, loud and clear. Mrs. Pluckrose gasped, gaping like she couldn’t even believe the words. “You!” was all she got out. “You… you!” Effie didn’t stay to hear the rest. She turned on her heel, back to Haymitch and their children. Mrs. Pluckrose wasn’t the only one who stared. Haymitch looked at Effie like he’d never seen anything so magnificent in all of his 40 odd years. “Did you just…?” “Oh, shut up, Haymitch!” She lifted Ian into the car. “Let’s go.” Author’s note: And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Effie is boss! Baby Mine is from the movie “Dumbo” of course. The 2019 version. You can listen to it on Youtube: “Disney Piano – Dumbo Baby Mine – Relaxing piano.” I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave a review if you wanna make my day and make for faster updates.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #hayffie twins #the hunger games

5 notes · View notes