#jealous reader

The neon glow from Starcourt Mall flickered behind you like a broken promise, casting long shadows across the parking lot as you leaned against Steve's car. The summer night hung heavy, warm and restless, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest - trying to will away the sick feeling twisting in your stomach.

Tonight was supposed to be easy. Movies. Fries. Dumb jokes behind the counter at Scoops Ahoy.

But then she showed up.

Nancy Wheeler.

She hadn't been cruel - polite even - but that didn't matter. It was the way she looked at Steve, the way her fingers casually ran up his arm, how her voice dipped into something familiar when she said, "I miss how easy things were with you, Steve." Like she had some unspoken right to him. Like you were just passing through.

And the worst part?

Steve didn't stop her.

Now, he stood a few feet away, fingers buried in his hair, clearly trying to figure out what to say. You weren't going to make it easier.

He took a breath and stepped forward. "Look, I know how that probably seemed, but it's not -" He stopped, sighing. "She doesn't mean anything to me like that anymore, okay?"

He reached for your hand, hesitantly. "Just... talk to me."

You stared at the pavement. "You obviously mean something to her though."

It came out smaller than you intended, bitter and tight. The image of Nancy's perfectly manicured fingers dragging along his arms still burned in your brain.

Steve exhaled sharply. "Jesus, do you think I wanted that?" His voice wasn't angry - just desperate, like he needed you to hear him. "I didn't ask her to say that, and I sure as hell didn't ask her to touch me like that."

He stepped forward, gaze locked on yours. "She doesn't get to do that anymore. And I - I should've shut it down faster. I should've done more." He swallowed hard. "But I don't want her. I want you."

His hand found yours again, wrapping his fingers around them gently. "You're the one I think about all the time. The one I want to spend Friday nights with. The one I want to..." he trailed off, breath catching. "It's you. Only you."

You blinked back the emotion tightening your throat.

"I'm not anything like her, Steve," you murmured. "I'm a band geek who spends Friday nights in my room, not partying. I play D&D with the boys instead of stealing my parents' liquor. I don't... I don't want you expecting her when I'm just... when I'm just me."

Steve's face fell, like your words physically pained him.

"Are you kidding me?" his said, voice cracking. "You think I'm chasing some version of her? That I'd be standing here, saying this, if I didn't want you?"

His grip on your hands tightened slightly - anchoring. "I don't want someone who makes me feel like I have to be better just to deserve them. I want you - the band geek who kicks my ass at D&D and knows more about movie soundtracks than anyone I've ever met."

He stepped closer still, his voice softer. "You think I'd be out here like an idiot, begging you to believe me if you weren't exactly what I wanted?"

You wanted to believe him. God, you did.

"I - I just... why me?"

Steve cupped your face gently, brushing his thumbs across your cheeks. His eyes were so soft it made your chest ache.

"Because you see me," he whispered. "Not King Steve. Not Nancy's ex. Not the babysitter. You see me. And you make me want to be better - not because I have to - but because I want to. For you."

His forehead dipped to yours, his voice barely a breath.

"I don't want Nancy. I want you."

You could barely get the words out. "Okay."

Steve laughed softly, the sound almost disbelieving. "Yeah?"

You nodded, still in shock at how soft he was with you - how sincere. His hands slipped away from your face, and for the first time that night, you felt the tension start to fade.

"I promise," he said, his tone more certain now. "I won't make you regret this." He glanced at you with a crooked grin. "But if you ever want revenge... you can steal my hair products. Give me a buzzcut or something."

You smirked, nudging him. "I think you owe me fries, Mr. I Peaked in High School."

One Afternoon, he’d mentioned a fleeting conversation between them and Ghost, he’d only intended to share his joke, hoping to make you smile and feel a part of his day. Before you could stop yourself the snarky comment slipped out,

“Oh, you mean your work girlfriend?”

You tried to sound playful, but deep down it wasn't just a joke.

Soap chuckled, brushing it off in his usual manner. With him, nothing was ever too serious.

From then on it became a running joke between you. You would say,

"Ask your other girlfriend then."

After he'd teased you, claiming you 'didn't love him' when denying his request to install a trampoline in your living-room, or adopt an exotic animal from a local zoo. Sometimes you really did mean to joke but, as the words sank deeper into your mind it was harder to force out a smile.

'His other girlfriend.’ At least that’s what you referred to her as. Even her name left a bitter taste on your tongue. The hint of jealousy was easily shoved down in the beginning. After all, how could you not like someone you’d never met or seen?

It wasn’t until he invited you to the pub with his teammates one night, and you’d witnessed their interactions first-hand that you couldn’t ignore it so plainly. The ease of jokes and teasing conversation between them. But Soap? Well, he’s just like that with everyone.

"There you go making messes again, Johnny."

Ghost had nudged him after Soap spilled a bit of his drink on the bar, as she handed him a couple napkins and teased,

"Should we find you a sippy cup?"

You’d never felt this way, in the year you’d been together, jealous or insecure.

It was a gentle love from the start. He’d made you feel seen, heard, desired. Making sure you always knew how special and important you were to him. He gave you sense of security you'd never known. So why did it feel like he was slipping away now?

She was nice… and you hated that. The involuntary bitterness you felt for her left a pit of guilt in your stomach.

She didn’t deserve your judgment. She’d never crossed a line, never disrespected your boundaries. You only hated her because she was pretty, thin, funny… You hated her because she wasn't you.

The recurring nightmares were the heaviest burden.

This woman you barely knew… was somehow plaguing your mind and she’d done nothing wrong.

You hated how easily your mood changed on those mornings. Even the dreams were fairly innocent. Sharing flirty glances, Soap brushing his hand with hers.

It was nothing more than your own self-loathing manifesting in your most vulnerable state, painting a picture of betrayal and infidelity. When really your own mind was the only one haunting you.

Maybe it’s just easier to blame someone else than confront the harsh reality, you don't value yourself.

Regardless of the awareness of your own self-loathing, you shoved it down and continued the inside joke with a smile.

"Hey," you greeted softly, as if approaching a baby deer.

"Hey, sugar" she greeted, doing her best to hide her worry but you easily saw right through it.

"He will be fine, you know" you said as you sat next to her, shoulders touching against one another. "My magic is not that weak"

Agatha offered a weak smile. "I know it's not. It never was, " she commented and glanced at the sleeping boy. "Thank you again. I know you don't like taking such risks"

You gently nudged your shoulder with hers, earning her attention. "Well, someone once told me; there is no fun in life if I don't take any risks"

She could not help but crack an amused smile, remembering the many times she had told you those exact words.

She took a good look at you at the same time, remembering the young girl she had taken under her wings all those years ago.

Back then, you were more innocent and shy; often hesitating to show your magic or use it, afraid you would be judged or make a mistake.

It took a lot of effort from Agatha and patience to make you trust her enough and listen to her. Then, you truly had your fun with your shenanigans, your crazy plans, and ideas.

Of course, you also got into plenty of trouble, but Agatha never let you feel guilty about what happened.

You did not speak anything else for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the fact that you were next to each other. Agatha, even, leaned andrm rested her head against your shoulder; your presence always having this supernatural energy that calmed her down.

Sometimes it was what she needed, when her own mind was torturing her with thoughts and scenarios. Sometimes, it was what she craved when she needed to stop for a moment and breathe; think carefully of what she wished to do next.

And sometimes... it was what she feared. Being so quick to let go of her defences and open up to you, being so willing to lay in your arms and sleep; without worrying, you might harm her while she rests.

She feared feeling vulnerable and attaching to you, for you might as well turn and betray her one day or perish and leave her with another crack on her already wounded heart.

As if feeling the turmoil of emotions within her, you dared to spread your hand and hold hers; fingers interlocking into a secure grip. Your thumb gently caressed her skin, and you noticed the soft smile that formed on her face.

However, despite that sweet moment between the two of you; you had to speak up, and you had to take the step.

"Ags" you started gently, earning a faint humming response from her. "This boy... who is he? The sigil is not your design"

Agatha took a moment to answer, clearly debating everything in her head. "I... I don't know, honestly. I just feel like I know him"

You frowned faintly. "You think he might be Little Nicky?"

The nickname left a bitter after taste in your mouth, being so long since you had called her son that way.

It was a nickname you had come up with when you first met, and you had used it a few times for the time Agatha and him spent time with you. Then, out of the blue, Agatha had to leave and took the boy with her.

You had declined the offer to join, thinking it was not a good idea. Now, you regretted it.

You had no idea what happened to the boy, but you felt that had you been present, had you joined back then... that boy might still be alive.

Agatha pulled her head from you, an instinctive reaction to block any affection when she felt a wound reopening. However, she kept her hand locked into yours; offering the faintest of hope.

"I... I don't know, " She confessed, leaving a heavy sigh. "I mean... he could be, right?"

Considering she never told you what happened to him, you were not exactly the best person to answer that question. But you could see that Agatha needed closure; she needed reassurance.

So, you dared to play along. "Maybe" you lied.

It was then a faint groan let Teen's lips, earning your attention. Immediately, Agatha was on alert; letting go of your hand.

You stood up, choosing to let her have her time with the boy.

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

You did not walk astray, always remembering what would happen if you did. However, the Road gave you the feeling you had walked quite far; time being a mere illusion to you now.

You came to a halt, suddenly feeling on alert, but your gaze never stopped looking forward. Your hair at the back of your neck stood on end as a familiar presence and voice seemed to come directly from your own shadow; choosing to approach you from your most blind spot.

"Why the sour face, baby?" Rio asked, her hand slowly dragging itself across your back, making you shiver.

"I don't have a sour face," you argued, taking a few steps forward to remove her hand and put some distance between you and her.

Sometimes, it confused and infuriated you how both your magic and your body were reacting to Rio's presence.

You finally turned to face her, back in her normal earthy colours. "You did before. I guess the situation between Agatha and the Boy is not sitting well with you, " she said, her word sounding slightly more comforting and sincere, rather than the mockery you would expect.

Tired from everything, you could not help but sigh. "Come on, you can't tell me it doesn't sit odd with you," you said, and suddenly, something popped up in your mind.

You slowly walked towards her, steps condifent as there was this gleam in your eyes; one that akwsys intrigued and challenged Rio.

"I mean." You started, never breaking eye contact with her. "You made it so clear that you saw me as an obstacle between you and Agatha. Who says the boy isn't one as well?"

Perhaps it was wrong, to try and throw Teen under the bus that way. Perhaps you would regret it later on, considering what Rio was capable of. But you could not help it.

You had nothing against the boy, but perhaps you were tired of letting Agatha and everything slip through your fingers, always too afraid to tighten your grip and hold them there... hold them with you.

With the way the Road was going, you realized this might be the last chance for you to actually be brave and take the step... and that's what you were intending to do.

Rio watched you as you halted in front of her, neck craned up faintly as you stared deep into her dark eyes, no sign of fear; never fearing her, even when you first met.

"Because the boy is not hers," she replied.

Her gaze was not mocking, and neither was prideful at that moment, opposite of what you expected of her. Instead, you swore you saw regret in them; something you had rarely seen in Rio.

"How do you know?" You asked quickly, trying to save your futile attempt, but the moment the words left your mouth; you felt like an idiot. "Of course you do know," you sighed.

You felt her hand gently caressing your cheek, going as far as to gently push some of your hair away from your face and neck. The move was gentle, careful, and yet her cold skin made goosebumps appear on yours.

"You should be wary, baby girl," she started, taking half a step closer. "The way you are heading, you will get hurt again"

You focused on her, trying not to react or focus too much on her touch; which you swore was slowly growing bolder. "Only if I choose to stay behind but I don't have such plans. I am done being a coward," you confess, your voice threatening to crack by the last sentence.

"You are not a coward for doing what was expected of you," she cooed, words so sincere and caring you would not believe would come from the same witch that came through a freaking grave. "You are not meant to be here, Y/N."

You frowned at the certainty of her words. "What? Why?"

Rio didn't answer your question, holding back the answer you suddenly needed. "Join me, instead. Let me show you what you truly are meant to do."

Those words made you have a sense of dejavu, unlocking a memory locked at the very back of your mind.

The very first time you had heard her say those words, you stood between corpses of men; tired and blooded.

They were dead, and she had come to collect, having also enjoyed your magic outburst that ended your tormentors. Your magic was glowing and flowing wild, bright white eyes staring at her form.

She had told you those exact same words back then, trying to lure you intl trusting her; into giving in. You fought her at first and even later you never truly accepted.

Though you will admit, her lessons and influence had rubbed on you; helping you with your magic but also making you more careful of her 'true' nature.

"You and I are nothing alike" you managed to comment, feeling your self restrain getting more and more lost thanks to Rio's touch; that had moved towards your tie and threatened to take off some buttons from your white shirt.

"Aren't we?" Rio smirked, eyes landing on your parted lips as her hand stopped moving; fingers holding the side of your upper arm to ensure you would not move away.

Before something could take place, someone cleared their throat.