#her. “And would you?” she lifted one thick eyebrow; signaling to her dad that it was his move now
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I was rewatching The Stone Forest and I really like to think that Hilda had to pass by the Bell Keeper’s outpost on her way out of the city limits. I like to think that idiot looked at what was happening, shrugged, and said ‘eh, she’s the scariest thing out there’
#“‘the scariest thing out there’?”the girl sends him a look that isn't quite a glare for once; it still conveys her opinion just as clearly#Edmund shrugs. Hilda is still within sight of his binoculars. he watches her run and can’t be sure whether she’s running *towards* or *from#*.He doesn’t think she knows either.#'I mean. it’s not like trolls can harm her at this time of the day.#Don’t tell me you believe in fairies kid.'#And there it is at last: the glare. Meiri looks up from her art project - her new therapist had reccomended it as a way to express herself#and since he'd been helping so much so far she'd decided to grudgingly give it a shot -#“*No*” she states pointedly; to anyone who knew her it was an affirmation. And Edmund knew her better than she cared for#'What I believe in is wolves and recluse spiders and ticks and nettle. And I believe that someone with the spine#to sabotage the Patrol wouldn't have the self control to not lick a pretty mushroom'#“Hey!” Edmund protested putting down his binoculars. “I sabotaged the Patrol! For *you* I might add!”#Meiri's smile turned mean; it was a regular expression for her yet it never conveyed any malice. Just the thrill of a game that never tired#her. “And would you?” she lifted one thick eyebrow; signaling to her dad that it was his move now#The dad in question was unfortunately thinking back to a time in his young teenage years when he figured he could eat anything animals bit#and gave himself a poisoning that had him taken to the ER. But she didn't need to know that. *ever* in fact.#“Obviously I would. Like I'd let a mushroom ruin my perfect sandwich diet”#Meiri groaned loudly. Some games were worth playing. But some wars she'd already accepted she'd never win#“Anyway” he turned back to staring at the outside of the wall as if it was of any interest to him (it wasn't)#“kid'll be fine is my point. And even if she isn't ya know what's the best think about this situation?”#They looked at each other with matching smirks. “none of our flipping business” he said at the same time as she echoed#“None of our fucking business”#He gasped immediatelly. “*Meiri!*”#The chastening was useless. She just shrugged innocently.#He'd really have to limit her library visits#the bell keeper hilda#meirdom#hilda the series#hilda netflix
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Hi, I’m in love with your writing and would love to see a headcannon/fic of Kaz and Inej disguising themselves and like….. walking around Ketterdam listening to all the rumors about them just to have a good laugh? Thank You!
a/n: this was absolutely adorable and hilarious. thank you anon.
looking back, they weren’t sure who’s idea it was, and if they were being completely honest, it was because they were too drunk to remember.
kaz and inej watched the sun set from the attic office, the golden light shimmering off the water as the sounds of the stave picked up for an evening of fun.
inej sat in her window, drinking from her glass in careful sips, smiling as they spoke. after nearly a month and a half apart, she seemed to hang on every word made of his rock-salt rasp.
and kaz was no better. he waited with baited breath for her laugh, hopelessly embellishing his stories to hear it again and again.
they drank to their separate successes, her at sea and him in ketterdam. the lives saved, the kruge earned, all because of the wraith and the bastard of the barrel. and slowly, they realized they were drinking to their shared successes too.
with every conversation, every graze of skin, every night together, they’d become closer. kaz no longer felt the kick of nausea that once accompanied her skin. inej didn’t feel the phantom hands pining her down everytime he came close.
they were each others exception and that was a damned good thing to drink to. so by the time ketterdam was swathed in darkness, they were a bottle of liquor deep.
“you’ve always had a reputation!” inej shifted the weight of her outstretched legs off his bad knee.
“one i’ve never experienced directly.”
“surely you just heard how that sounds.”
kaz smiled and rolled his eyes. “i mean that no one has ever told me the stories they’ve heard because they’re speaking to me.”
“so you want to hear what people have to say about you… without them knowing it’s you?”
“that’s exactly what i want.” he nudged one of calves, his smile spreading devilishly. “haven’t you ever wondered what bedtime stories they tell of the wraith?”
inej laughed but she couldn’t lie to him, not even if she was sober. “i have.”
thus, their terrible plan was born.
they pulled some old costumes from kaz’s collection and attempted to make themselves unrecognizable.
inej wore thick-soled boots, making her usual weightless steps heavy against the stone. her hair was tied up tightly under a dark, wool cloak.
kaz rid himself of his cane and replaced his usual jacket for a long coat, turning the collar up to conceal himself even further. he even added a hat for good measure, one that he let inej pick out. she always did have a good eye for his hats.
when they arrived to the bustling streets of the pleasure district, kaz linked his arm through inej’s. he felt her hand grip his sleeve tightly as she stifled a laugh.
had they not been so deep in the drink, this plan would have never worked. neither would have wanted to risk their cover by blantanly asking for answers, but they were too far gone to know the difference.
they started outside of a bar.
kaz mustered all the memories of nina’s acting, using his best kaelish accent to disguise his voice. he felt inej shake with another silent laugh. “what have you heard of the dregs? no ones given me a solid answer since i arrived.”
the man was too drunk to see any potential issues the question posed. his words slurred together as he raised his eyebrows in suspicion. “best stay away from the lot of them. they run nearly half the town and don’t care who they have to get rid of to do it.”
inej let out a gasp, “oh?”
he nodded, taking a sloppy drink from his stine. “aye. and then there’s the boss, brekker. but you’ll only hear him called dirtyhands in these parts. he’s a monster that one.” the man leaned close, so close they could smell the rot of his breath. “i hear he murdered his mum and dad as a boy and only went worse from there.”
the pair fought back laughter, said their goodbyes, and found their way to a makeshift performance by a traveling komedie brute. they stayed in the outskirts, finding a women to be their next victim.
inej assumed she worked for the group, working and collecting extra kruge from the crowd. “you all come here often?” inej tried to thicken her own accent, forcing the dips and lifts she recalled in her mother’s voice.
the women shrugged. “if the moneys good. why? no one likes the show that much.”
“it’s fine but- well we were just wondering if you could answer a few questions we had? about the- locals?”
“go ahead then.”
“we heard of a- dirtyhands? brekker, i believe was his other name. do you know anything-“
she placed her hand out, to signal inej’s stop. “you best keep your nose out of their business. it’s no place for someone like you. especially now that his ghost queen is back in town.”
inej hoped the laugh she choked down came off as fear. “his what?”
the woman rolled her eyes. “they call her the wraith and she might as well be a devil just like him. she’s wicked quick and deadly. and now she has a ship she captains, killing across the seas. so run along before they catch you sniffing about.”
as they turned to go, inej clutched harder to kaz’s arm, her side aching from laughter.
it could have been hours that passed, but they didn’t realize. they strolled slowly back to the slat, laughing to themselves over the ridiculous stories and secrets whispered in hushed voices.
here they were, those dangerous and formidable characters, walking along the dimly lit streets of their city as if they were any other couple.
perhaps in that moment, that is exactly what they were. no longer dirtyhands and the wraith, king and queen of the barrel, but kaz and inej: farm boy and suli acrobat come to enjoy all that ketterdam has to offer.
that night, they slept soundly. their limbs intertwined, their minds at rest knowing they would never have to hide from eachother behind a story or lie again.
#kaz brekker#shadow and bone#six of crows#inej ghafa#soc#kanej#grishaverse#jesper fahey#leigh bardugo#kaz x inej#grishaverse fanfic#grishaverse netflix#soc fanfiction#soc fanfic#soc fic#soc headcanon#anon ask
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Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes
One - When Harry met Sally
Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)
[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect
And in the background they're always playing the right song
And in the ending there's always a resolution
But real life is more than just two hours long “
Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other.
(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon.
And yet …
Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.
A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.
“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand.
The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend.
“ I’m fine. “
Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead.
“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “
“ ‘s not that bad. “
“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “
It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book.
“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “
His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement.
As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit.
“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “
It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in.
His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.
“ I - I uh — “
He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face.
“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “
“ Huh? “
“ I asked if you want me to leave. “
As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear.
“ Why would I ask you to leave? “
Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.
“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “
It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.
“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “
Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief.
“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “
“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “
This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle.
“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “
“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “
“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question.
“ Not really. “
“ Ah, what a shame.”
Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.
“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.”
Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.”
“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “
He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.
“ No. Why? “
“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.”
“ Huh. “
“ Mmmh.”
After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.
“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “
“ Are you ?”
“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.”
“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky.
The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.
“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes
“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “
“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “
Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.
“ No? “
“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “
“ Ran where? “
“ Away. “
“ Away as in you left. “
“ Mm-mmh”
“ Just like that? “
“ Yup. “
“ Why? “
He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place.
“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.”
“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “
“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “
While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.
“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “
Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.
“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?”
“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“
(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy.
“ I have no idea what you just said. “
“ When Harry met Sally? “
Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.
“ You’ve never seen it? “
“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “
This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning.
“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.
“ I — I don’t know. “
That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing.
(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.
“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “
“ We are? “
“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “
“ I don’t even know you. “
“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back. “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “
Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness.
“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “
“ Perfect, Bucky. “
“ Bring a jacket. “
The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing.
Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries.
Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar.
His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook.
“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “
(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly.
Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can.
“ Hi, (Y/N). “
“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue.
“ I did. You told me to. “
“ And you listened! “
“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.
“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “
“ Wow. “ he exclaims.
“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “
She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.
“ Up? “
“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “
“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.
She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen.
“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “
“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “
She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —
“ You coming, grumpy ?”
“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “
The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around.
This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice.
A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people.
Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles.
“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back.
“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “
“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “
“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “
Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns.
“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “
“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “
“ You think so? “
She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “
Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.
“ I brought snacks. “
More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while.
“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “
As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen.
“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.
It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.
Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.
“ You okay, grumpy? “
He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile.
“ So, what did we learn today? “
Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment.
“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “
(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “
He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others.
“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “
“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “
“ That’s literally what happened. “
“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “
As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.
“ You think we’re friends? “
“ Oh, are we — are we not? “
“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “
(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.”
“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “
“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “
Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “
“ Alright. Noted. “
“ So have you talked to the girl again? “
“ Hmm? “
“ The one you went on a date with? “
“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.”
“ Why not? “
Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.”
“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “
“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “
“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “
“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “
That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.
“ Dancing, mostly.”
“ Like, ballroom dancing? “
“ Swing. “
“ You swing dance? “
“ I did. “
(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “
“ You don’t believe me? “
“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “
Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in.
“ You twirled me! “
“ Mm-mh.”
“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “
It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that.
The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.
And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk.
“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “
“ Gotta love the big city folk. “
“ Yup. “
“ Hey, Bucky.”
“ What? “
“ You really can dance.”
“ Told you. “
“ Can I tell you a secret? “
“ Sure. “
“ I can’t dance for shit. “
“ That so? “
“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “
“ Absolutely not.”
“ Oh, 100%! “
“ We’ll see about that.”
There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.
Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now.
The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.
“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.
“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “
“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “
“ Alright, if you say so. “
“ Thanks for walking me home. “
“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “
For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night.
“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.
“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “
“ Can’t wait. “
A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye?
“ I uh — I should go. “
“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.”
“ You too, (Y/N).”
“ Oh and Bucky? “
“ Yes? “
“ Give Leah a call. “
Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.
As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky imagine#mcu imagine#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction
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TRICKS OF LIFE— STEVE HARRINGTON
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯. — 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬
overview: School is finally done, yet feeling off in the situation itself. The familiar boys including, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas get in contact with her to persuasion to investigate further information on the disappearance while Y/N works as an intern at the police department.
Taglist! — @itsnottilly
Navigation — Mixtape
Who knew that the day had gone like a blur, drifting off to classes and sessions, now Y/N was outside in the busy Hawkins High parking lot. From people driving away to their destinations to the freshmen walking off into the distance. Everything had been subtly normal, except for Y/N who had been aware of the odd disappearance of Will Byers. As she stood beyond the perimeter of the entrance, a few farewells were exchanged from Nancy, walking back to the Wheeler’s residence, three familiar boys biking nearby her. It had appeared that the specific, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson were approaching her in the buzzing lot. Quick waves and greetings, they all said hello along with the purpose of the trip.
”Little Hop!” The shouts from upfront were called for, the boys circling their way around her, Mike pushing the brakes next to the dumbfounded girl, standing awkwardly, “There’s something that went on-“
“I know, Will’s missing,” Y/N lifted her arms from her side, sighing loudly, the boys still catching their breath from the troubling trip to the high school, “There’s nothing we can do about it!”
Mike stood up abruptly, steadying his bike along with Lucas and Dustin, clearing his throat, “Yes we can! You’re an intern at the police department.”
The three middle schoolers stood quietly, in hopes of her agreeing with their statement of finding their lost friend. Y/N had always been on their side, ever since she met them, they were the troublemaking group of kids, buzzing around the town creating rumbles. Surprisingly, she frowned, looking off into the open, “Sorry, but from what my dad said, I’m afraid I can’t help this time. I was told not to investigate at a certain point.”
“Why not? You’ve always helped us,” Dustin began, walking next to her, strolling his bike as well, “You want the best for us right?”
“I do, but...... I need to listen to them.”
Lucas turned to Y/N who silently watched them, “There’s gotta be a reason though! Will is our friend, he’s missing. What if something happened to him?”
“That’s the police’s deal, not mine!” Y/N snapped at them who flinched at the odd action taken by her. Irritated, she looked to the distance, watching a group of boys around her age make these obnoxiously loud noises from afar.
Hearing the cryptic response, all of their jaws dropped, Y/N’s never acted so.......stern, bland, stubborn, like ever. Their expressions dim, surprised at hearing the prolonged answer they’ve never thought would turn up out of Y/N’s mouth. Frantically grabbing the bikes from the side, getting ready to pedal back home, Mike subtly shifted his glance towards the blank Y/N, waiting for them to leave, saying, “Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be on our side.”
”I’m just listening to what they’re saying,” Y/N crosses her arms due to the frigid weather outside, prepared to be able to walk home. Watching their saddened faces gloom in the outside, Y/N felt this other urge of guilt; why was she acting up so much already? Will was her main priority, so why wasn’t she helping them? What if Will was in grave danger? Why was she being so ignorant?
As thoughts flood her head, bringing this awful feeling, not being able of what to do, she quickly places a comforting yet rapid hand onto Mike’s shoulder, catching him off guard, “Okay, it may seem as if I’m the bad guy, but at least I’ll try my best. I’ll let you know what goes on in the office, but under one condition, you guys cannot go investigate at all. Do you understand?”
Smiles brightening up, they rapidly nodded, a sense of relief that they’re going to be able to find Will sooner or later thanks to the girl’s help of her working as an intern to the most reliable place in search of safety of their friend. Happily, the boys rushed close up to Y/N, express their’s gratitude for her for the decision she made after the fulfilling thoughts convincing her instinct. After exchanging the thanks you’s and farewells, they biked away, in hopes of a successful retrieve of Will Byers. Y/N waved confidently as the rest biked away into the occupied sidewalks of students, a feeling of courage and determination swelling to her, walking away from the school premises to the Hawkins Police Department.
Maybe it was one of the longest walks Y/N had ever taken, and believe it or not, it was the shortcut to the center of the town where most residents would be, to walking and driving around the oddly empty area. After nearing herself to the familiar building, broadly directing the suitable location she was currently in, the police department. It was eerie since as predicted, almost all officers were in search of the Byers boy, maybe a few people coming out of the building, the sound of the car engines from behind, bringing her back to the present beyond thinking of different ways to gather resourceful information about the disappearance to satisfy her curious middle school friends.
It had been almost a year since Y/N got the job as an intern thanks to her extraordinary talent of persuasion for her dad, knowing that the department could use an extra hand for the little tasks. To top it off, she had also been passionate about following Jim’s footsteps in law enforcement, wanting to be an aspiring detective shortly.
Gallantly walking inside to find the ringing of phone calls and faint clicks coming from the rickety typewriter in the unoccupied office, the girl awkwardly walked inside the warm room, the smell of brunt cigarettes filling the essence, to find Florence, or as known, Flo organizing a few papers in the oddly organized desk.
“Hey Flo,” Y/N shuffled her feet, meeting her eyes with the woman, signaling her to come closer by the wooden table. In the quiet aura, more sound of the papers, making her eyes shift from side to side, trying to recognize files, names, dates containing in them.
Following the quiet mumbles of distress, the girl gets up, in prospers of ruling a kind act towards Flo who had seemed wildly stressed in whatever deal she was in, to trot by the counter, finding the area of the usual coffee stand. Y/N gently pours in the hot pot of water in the porcelain cup, later adding a spoonful of the instant coffee mix, stirring it to when it blended evenly, as her mind filled with phrases or questions for any information about Will had been released.
At last, Y/N cleared her throat watching behind her to see the frazzled woman as she allowed the light gush of vanilla creamer into the dull substance inside the mug. She places her hand on her chin, leaning against the counter to watch the heavy fluid smoothly blend with the dark-shaded one, a satisfying view to one.
“Have you seen Victor anywhere?!” A familiar perky voice chirped tensely behind Y/N, disassociating her from the soothing visual upon her.
As the girl shook her head in response, she gripped onto the filled mug, placing it on the top of the surface, bringing a piece of sweet bread along with a napkin for herself. Given a seat on the thick cushion, she pushed the mug towards Flo, “I saw him in Chemistry, but I don’t think he came into the office. But here’s coffee to relieve the stress.”
Continuing, placing the papers around the desk, Flo solemnly smiled, accepting the hot drink, “Thank you, dear, that silly boy is probably wandering around with others. Kids these days and their irresponsibilities.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Y/N takes a bite from the bread, hearing the lady with glasses mumble nonsense about the theory of how pop culture influenced the younger generation of teenagers, turning them into rebels.
Seemingly, Y/N tried in the most awkward moment to speak up about Will, after the tense conversation Flo was having with herself, multitasking in filing papers, clearing her throat, “What happened to Will?”
“Will?” In a millisecond, the big-eyed woman shifted her glance upwards to get a glimpse of the girl who had a worrisome look on her face, raising her eyebrows a little, “Will Byers right? The missing boy?”
Y/N confidentially nodded, biting her bottom lip for an answer, her hands coming together, “Yeah, my dad came in a few hours ago at school to ask me where he was last seen.”
”Oh, yeah,” Flo’s eyebrows furrow, trying to recall any updates on the search for the boy, she clicks her tongue, adjusting her seat, “Well, from what Jim told me, they recently found the boy’s bike in the woods near the dead-end near Mirkwood.”
”The woods?” The girl’s E/C colored eyes widened, feeling that same sick sensation in her stomach, something bad could’ve happened to Will. But shaking the thoughts away, she mentally took notes from the location, for her fellow friends, “Anything else? I’m just really worried about him.”
Scrunching her face, Flo leaned closer to the girl’s face who pawned over any conclusions made, with a hushed tone, “Just between us, I think it was Lonnie, the boy’s dad who probably took him.”
“I don’t think so I mean something else could’ve happened,” Y/N shrugs, speechless of the comment made, but also being in complete denial of that accusation made so quickly.
Suddenly she was cut off with a voice from the ham radio, making it impossible to hear the communication clearly on the side counter. As Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance, she stood up from the chair, tuning the frequency higher enough to hear better to listen to the chief’s deep voice, “Flo are you there? Hello?”
”Oh yes it’s me, Florence!” The female teenager mimicked sarcastically through the radio, overhearing her father groan deeply, the sound of the background being able to be caught on the machine.
Hopper chuckles a little, earning a small grin on his daughter’s face while she slides back down on the comfortable chair, “Yeah very funny kid, you should be on Carson one day.”
”I know right? So what’s up Big Hop!”
Toning down his voice to be grouchier like before, he ordered sternly, “Well, tell Flo to organize a search party right by Mirkwood around 7 o’clock.”
”Wait a search party?” Y/N’s happy tone faded away, unsettling her, as she anxiously twirling her finger onto the radio chord connecting to the main machine, “Is this seriously? Can I come? What if-“
Another interruption. Sheesh, whoever let this girl talk in peace? Oh right the brunette with oval glasses who rushed inside to throw his jacket to a rack, quietly mumbling words to himself until he spoke up, “Sorry I’m late, I was caught up with Mr. Benson.”
”About time boy!” Flo glares at the slender, lanky teenager, clapping her hands up in the air to make a racket, “You airhead, we called you an hour ago, it’s irresponsibility! You’re going to get nowhere with that commitment of yours Victor.”
Victor’s mouth hung open at the tactless observation from the audacious lady, raising his eyebrows, he barked back, “Yeah but you didn’t hear the part where I was clearly at school!”
”No you were probably being some hobo on the streets-“
”Can you two just shut up!” Y/N shouted, waving her arms in the air to signal them to keep it down, later focusing her attention back to the stereo, “Jesus I cannot keep up with them.”
Scoffs being heard on the other line, Hopper responds with a jokingly tone, “My exact thoughts when you ramble about everything. Now, let the Hawkins paper know about the search party being held later a during the evening.”
”Wow, that’s just mean dad,” She rolls over to grab a blue ink ballpoint pen, along with a sheet of lined paper to mark down any important data for the event, chicken scratch letters splayed across the page, “So what else do you need pop?”
”That's about it, but I want the information out as soon as possible for the townsfolk to know, you got that?” Hopper ordered, saluting a goodbye after catching the background noise of Victor and Flo arguing about responsibility in the law world for future reference.
Y/N quickly scribbled on the last of the dictation from her father, leaving the radio back to its default position near the main machine, sliding the paper in front of Flo who was near threatening to hit Spencer with a telephone, “You guys seriously need to act mature enough.”
”Excuse me? I’m a fifty-year-old woman teaching a scrawny boy how to behave and not to talk back to adults!” She huffs, throwing herself back onto the chair belonging to the desk, squinting her eyes to look at the writing for directions, “Your handwriting needs work dear. But Victor needs to call the Hawkins Post or announce it somewhere and do something for good.”
Rolling his dark eyes, Victor snatches the flattened paper off the lady’s hands, walking towards the office phone calling in regards to the additional details to the post. Meanwhile, Y/N slouches on the chair, her jacket crinkle, reading a few files based on last week’s headlines, “Can I help to search for Will?”
”Can I come too?” Victor calls out from the corner, waving a hand in the air, suddenly getting caught off guard by the other person on the phone line and getting back into the conversation after dozing off, mumbling, “I’m sorry it was just a colleague of mine talking to me about the investigation.”
Time was dozing off until Flo agreed to let the two teenagers come along for the search party, organizing and setting out a clean stack of papers in front of Y/N, “Now stop your unproductive babbling and sort these out to keep them in storage.”
”Yes ma'am,” Y/N uttered calmly, still feeling proud and occupied due to her letting Dustin and the rest know this semi-confidential for the search of their friend. Now were they all going to be lucky and find success in finding Will in safety on this night, or are there many more occurrences to come?
#Steve Harrington#steve Harrington x reader#steve Harrington fanfic#steve harrington series#Steve Harrington fanfiction#Steve Harrington x Hopper reader#Stranger things#stranger things x reader#Stranger things Fanfiction#Steve Harrington angst#Steve Harrington fluff#Steve Harrington smut#Steve Harrington fanfic navigation#Steve Harrington x you#Jopper#dnd
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wisps of dark hair cascade down the line of a young boy’s vision, falling to the floor and by barely-curled toes in messy crescents. though used to it by now, there’s an urge to flinch at the sounds of the scissors stripping him of part of his identity; the comforting warmth framing his face gradually disappears as his mother’s hands work through his head, evenly cutting away the waving tresses of ebony (which she’d stated many a time, over the past few weeks) had grown too long.
to the boy, it never seems to grow long enough. he feels most like himself; that flowering, budding identity that blooms more and more with time and age, when his hair hangs long and thick from his head. but his mother chides him, coldly insisting he looks far too feminine with his mane the way he likes it, and urging him to grow out of his backwards mentality sooner rather than later.
“why do you want to look like a girl, youngho?” she asks, seemingly able to feel the wounded nature of his reflective silence. “you look more handsome with your hair neat and short.”
his lack of a reply earns a sigh from the woman, who sets her scissors down beside the curve of her lap. as she brushes the loose, stray hairs from his nape, her soft hand lingers on his shoulder, squeezing at the knobby protrusion in a manner shockingly earnest.
“your dad says bad things about you, when i let you have your hair the way you want,” she tells him, a solemn lull to her voice. the boy does not move his head, cranium remaining pointed groundward, but he is listening intently, despite how much he doesn’t want to be. “i’m trying to protect you. when we’re living a better life and don’t have to see him anymore, you can have your hair as long as you want. i promise.”
she makes a lot of promises. about the future, about this ‘better life’ she alludes to rather often. even so young, the boy knows better than to get his hopes up or to believe in fairy tales, but he had seen glimpses of this rose-tinted future though wads of cash his mother would bring home, smiling brilliantly and declaring that they’re one step closer to making it out. he’d seen it through the pained and panicked faces of wealthy men she’d swindle into her traps. he’d seen it through the vivid fantasies she’d paint by his bedside with colourful words about how great their lives are going to be.
despite many lessons learned and learned the hard way, the boy is hopeful for this future. and for his freedom — from poverty, from pain, from oppression.
from his father.
⭑ ⭑ ⭑
“hwoarang, come here.”
eager to obey, hasty feet carry him toward the voice of his master before his brain seizes the chance to fully process that his body is moving. so ensues a ninety-degree bow, the student’s posture only relaxing once the man offers a signal that he may be casual with him.
“your hair,” baek begins reflectively, reaching out to brush a thoughtful hand right where the ebony curtain sweeps past the younger’s nape. “it’s getting quite long, isn’t it?”
the tightening of his chest nearly causes him pain. in the months that had passed since the elder had taken him in, the anxiety occupied the back of his mind like a looming omen; a dark presence kept in good company by the cacophony of concerns that one single slip-up; one uninhibited glimpse into what a mistake agreeing to look after him could be, would see him abandoned on the hard, dark pavement once again.
“yes,” he answers as confidently as he can, attempting to swallow the burning sensation that crawls up his throat. “is it ... a problem, sabeomnim?”
in a rare display of surprise (to hwoarang, it seems his master knows and expects everything, at all times, like some kind of omniscient entity that’s lived every life in every way), the calm arches of baek’s eyebrows lift and deepen, and his endlessly pensive eyes widen. hwoarang is momentarily frightened that he had spoken out of turn. never once has he seen his master look taken aback to this extent.
before the claws of anxiety can sink any deeper into him, though, the soft, deep sound of baek’s quiet laughter wraps around him protectively. the adolescent blinks, astonished by this unforeseen turn of events.
“i’ve never seen you look so meek,” says the mentor, “i know you have concerns, hwoarang. you try not to show them, but you wear your emotions on your face. in many ways, it’s charming, though it would behoove you to learn how to put on a poker face, every once in a while.” his words are loose and gentle, and hwoarang hangs onto every last syllable, for once feeling like an adult seeks to have a real conversation with him instead of belittling him or barking orders they haven’t earned enough of his respect to rightfully expect him to heed.
verily, hwoarang is still trying to settle into this dynamic. there are parts of him that are still unruly and wild and ugly, but every time he thinks he may have overstepped a boundary, baek shows him nothing but patience, and kindness, and a so far unwavering belief in his ability to improve.
there are expectations of what he should be, but they are free of prejudice.
“the length of your hair is of no concern to me. i only wish you show yourself in a way that is true to who you are,” he explains, and this unbearable warmth erupts through hwoarang’s chest. there’s a hot pressure behind his eyes, but he musters up all of his strength to keep from crumbling before his master’s soft, sagacious eyes.
“did you really think i was going to make you cut it? i keep my own hair long, after all. how unfair do you think me to be, youngho?”
the uncommonality of the use of his real name, when paired with the almost teasing nature of his master’s words, inspires hwoarang’s face heat up — today is one for rare occurrences, it seems.
hwoarang does not expect his master to hold him to the same standard as he holds his own self. it once again circles back to his past experiences with adults, and his assumption that the other would look at him as far beneath him; a charity case, even. yet, perhaps by now, he should know better than to think of baek doo san as some common man. he genuinely ought to have more respect for the individual that had taken on the unforgiving and oftentimes thankless challenge of mentoring a cause that had been lost long ago; perhaps since birth, or even conception.
upon regaining the agency to speak, the student trains round, coppery eyes on the much older man’s face. it’s gone somewhat illegible, but that gentle, welcoming air remains. he feels ... safe. “t-then ...” flustered, hwoarang stares at his knees, folded atop the dojang’s polished flooring. “then, if it’s not a problem, why’d you bring it up, sabeomnim?”
baek suspires deeply through his nares, eyes closing momentarily before lids unveil his irises of seared amber, which find the student’s guileless gaze once more. the hardened thirteen-year-old before him has never looked more like an innocent child.
“it’s messy,” he says simply, crossing his arms over his chest. “you could really use a trim. having long hair is a lot of work, hwoarang.” what immediately follows is a pause, punctuated by another small gust of breath.
“come. i’ll show you what to do.”
#【 🌋 鸷 ⋅ ⁽ 서류 ⁾ › ❛ 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 / headcanons ﹠ metadata . 】#this is meant to be like . a memory ? if that makes sense#ig a series of memories since there are 2 different ones but they r obviously connected#think of this as unlocking dlc of hwoarang's repressed past cdhjvfdbhvfhjd
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This Hard Lie
Fic prompt: “Just trust me.”
THIS HARD LIE follows THIS HARD TOWN an AU that explores what Michael’s life might change if Alex hadn’t joined the Air Force. It’s not necessarily an easy rosy life . This part includes the following warnings : Kyle/Michael, sexual content, a homophobic slur directed at Michael by an OC, Michael’s cynicism about the US military and some more plot musings. This is finished in full on AO3.
***
[UNDER the cut because it starts NSFW]
There was something intensely meditative about sucking cock for Michael.
Opening his mouth wide past comfort into an ache of effort, the firm press on his palate mixing with the surge of salt on his tongue, the mess of saliva and pre-cum smearing sloppily over his face as he dropped into a state where listening to his partner’s enjoyment was the only thing that registered. The world slipped away as he took measured breaths, his mind finally quiet, until all that was left was Michael being good.
Michael could just be a vessel to fill with pleasure instead of pain.
Normally skating his hand down to gently squeeze and massage his partner’s testicles was enough to get that hitched-curse and uncontrolled jerk in his mouth that signaled an impending orgasm. The draw and shiver of warm pliant skin before the warm, thick release in his mouth, except that was not happening.
After a firm swipe of his tongue against the slit, rubbing against the edge of the frenulum, another foolproof trick in his experience that garnered nothing more than a sigh and an absent clutch of the hand on the back of his neck, Michael pulled away abruptly to stare up at Kyle Valenti’s face.
“Wait, why’d you stop?”
Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand rocking back on his heels, his voice rough from his activities, “‘Cause you don’t seem to be into this? Which I gotta admit, that’s a mood killer for me and slightly hurtful to my pride.”
Instead of arguing with Michael over his observation, Kyle sighed guilty and shifted to pull up his lightweight shorts over his erection, signalling the close of the encounter. “Sorry, you know you’re great at that, it’s me. My brain,” he gestured to his head with a twirling motion with his long-skilled surgeon hands.
Michael couldn’t help but follow the motion with interest, he had always been a sucker for a set of strong, confident hands.
Alex had hands like that.
Fuck, Michael pushed that thought away like he did every time it slipped in uninvited and collapsed next to Kyle on his expensive leather couch. It’s been two years since Michael’s last glimpse of Alex, no contact from him outside of the impersonal birthday and holiday cards that had begun after Michael mailed his ‘I’m sorry I dropped in your life’ letter. They’ve officially been apart longer than they were together and still Michael couldn’t stop thinking of Alex daily.
Perhaps Kyle wasn’t the only one distracted tonight.
“Listen, I won’t bore you with the details and break our agreement here,” Kyle continued, knocking his shoulder against Michael’s. “I can still do you here-”
“‘Do me’, so romantic, Valenti. I think I’ll pass on getting a disinterested handjob, thanks.” Michael rolled his eyes at the offer and reached for the bottle of water from the coffee table to swish around his mouth before swallowing for effect.
It was Kyle’s turn to roll his eyes but fondly. “I could give you an absent-minded blowjob instead?”
Their eyes met. Kyle lifted his well-groomed eyebrow as Michael pretended to be seriously tempted with a stroke of his stubbled jaw in turn before they both broke and started to laugh helplessly.
If someone had told a seventeen-year-old Michael that one day he would be laughing with Kyle Valenti in his high-end, ultra modern condo after a failed conclusion to a ‘U up?’ text, well he probably would have been interested in the type of pharmaceutical high that would have made that possible. Hell, the Michael of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it either but that was before he met the post-med school Kyle that returned home to Roswell.
It had started one night at the Wild Pony, where Michael frequented more and more for the scraps of news about Alex from Maria. A practice she did her best to discourage, repeating her policy of ‘I don’t play messenger between exes’, which had given Michael hope that maybe Alex had asked about him. He had been one beer in, contemplating a second when Jake Frederick’s sneer had interrupted.
“I hear they’re finally opening a place that caters just for the fags in town.”
That word, not unfamiliar to Michael in Roswell, brought his shoulders up to his ears. Its ugliness brought back so many memories of how it was whispered, spat, scrawled, or just strongly implied whenever Michael and Alex had ventured outside the safety zone of the Crashdown or their own four walls. The Wild Pony once Maria had bought it was eventually added to the list, though some patrons still thought otherwise.
On cue, Maria’s voice barked from behind the bar, “Jake, you use that word again in here and you’re banned for life!”
There was a titter of amusement as Jake’s crowd of admirers teased him for the call out, before an artificial apology was offered in return. After a moment though, Michael could hear him perfectly well pick up his conversation, “it’ll be wall to wall fake wigs and limp wrists there, probably playing nothin’ but Alex Manes’s shitty music.”
The laughter echoed, and Michael started to reach for his wallet to pay for his beer. It was clear that tonight’s entertainment was focused on Michael. He thought at this point, without Jesse Manes drumming up hate for his son, that these bullies would finally move on to something new. Unimaginative pricks.
“Hey Guerin, you off to join your people at that gay bar?” Jake called, noticing Michael’s departure. “Gonna find yourself someone new to ruin now that your boy left you?”
Closing his eyes as he swept his hat over his curls, Michael said a silent apology to 17-year-old Alex for breaking his promise on violence. He turned, noting a few new faces gathered at the table, probably guys from the base with their short haircuts, along with a silent Wyatt Long. For all of Wyatt’s racist blustering, Michael knew he had a queer cousin in Austin. Still, Michael pasted a bright and fake smile, “those are my people at Planet 7, Jake, but how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not gay.”
“My mistake, buddy. Must have been all the cocksucking you do that threw me off.”
Michael laughed harshly, ignoring the movement in his peripheral, and stepped closer, his smile growing darker, “I’m bisexual, which means, not only will I feed you my dick, Jakey, but I’ll give it to your sister too. Just not at the same time. Unless you’re into that sort of thing? You look like your parents were into it…”
The slam of chairs falling backward as Jake jumped to his feet at the insult. After that it was more blurs of movement, jostling, and chaos as Maria shouted in the background about the police while Michael traded punches indiscriminately. At one point he realized he had help against his back, as the fight spilled outside into the cold, raw New Mexico night.
Dark spiked hair, a nice set of shoulders that gave Michael an inch or two of height advantage was all he could register in the melee. It wasn’t until the breaking of glass that was shortly echoed by the boom of a shotgun that the fight dropped into stillness and Michael recognized his unsolicited ally as Kyle Valenti.
Maria stood next to the door of the Wild Pony as a lone siren picked up in the background, “All right you assholes, you’re all out of here. Drop your weapons and fucking leave before I have the sheriff lock all of you up!”
“Gotta admit, you’re kind of the last person I expected to be fighting a bigot,” Michael commented, dabbing at a fiercely bleeding cut on his eyebrow. “Kinda remember it the other way around in high school.”
Kyle smiled humorlessly as he caught his breath, grabbing Michael’s shoulder to pull him away from the bar toward the parking lot as the sirens picked up volume. “Well, I remember you as being some sort of secret genius in high school. Taking on five guys seems kind of dumb.”
“It was just four guys, Wyatt wasn’t gonna involve himself or else Maria would have called his uncle and aunt on him.”
“Oh well, if it was just four guys, I should have stayed at the bar, I wasn’t finished with my drink yet,” Kyle quipped sarcastically, as he kept pulling Michael through the parked cars. “You’re welcome by the way.”
“Fuck off, I didn’t ask for help-” He shook off Kyle’s hand, his previous pliancy in following Kyle at an end as he bristled with indignation. Whatever strange amnesia over what a dick Kyle Valenti was in general and to Alex in particular passed at the prod for gratitude. “And my damn truck is over there-”
“Can you even see out of that eye? Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Kyle answered for him and dug out a pair of keys from his pocket as an expensive sounding unlocking chirp echoed. Of course. The dark blue BMW in the sea of modest pick up trucks and domestic sedans was his. At least it wasn’t the bright red Camaro from graduation, that car had too many associations with it for Michael. The hatch popped open on the X1, Kyle leaned in to pull out a towel to toss to Michael. “I’ve got my bag here and I could use the practice in sutures, so?”
Normally the idea of a doctor touching him at all was enough to instill a mix of dread and panic, but Michael didn’t see anything in Kyle’s face other than genuine concern mixed with exasperation. The open air of the parking lot with police on the way seemed like a bad idea. “All right, free medical care is hard to turn down, but I don’t want your dad arresting me, so can we-”
“Your place, it is.” And then as they drove in silence, with Michael still holding the towel against his cut, Kyle spoke gently in the dark. “I was a dick in high school, I was even a dick in college. But then some things changed for me, um, so I’m glad Roswell is getting a gay bar.”
“No, no, high school homophobe does not come out as gay, not happening, no way-”
“No not gay,” Kyle cut his eyes over to the passenger seat, giving Michael a quick up-and-down appraisal. “Just learned the package isn’t really that important to me. I like sex. Med school was a small pool of sleep-deprived, competitive people and I stopped caring if they had a dick or not. I also learned a lot about anatomy.”
The appraising look, the hint of good-natured humor in Kyle’s eyes, and his suggestive words were all enough to push Michael to grunt, “changed my mind, your place instead.” He never took anyone back to his Airstream as a rule.
And that was the beginning of Michael’s almost-friends, only-benefits relationship with Kyle Valenti. It revolved around those unsaid rules from the first night, only at Kyle’s condo, and rarely did they engage in anything more substantive than talk about sports or the general stupidity of Roswell. The sex was easy, the conversation stayed light enough to fill the gaps of loneliness, and if Michael had been a different species, he might have considered it the start of something more permanent.
If only Max had been wrong. If only Michael hadn’t fallen in love with Alex as a teenager. The first year after Alex left had been devoted to trying to make it on his own financially and getting the down payment together for the Airstream. The next year he had tortured himself with believing that now that Alex was successful, he’d come back to Roswell, to him. Then after Isobel’s wedding and that trip east, Michael had to accept the truth.
Dating in the years since, women and the occasional out man, had changed nothing for Michael. It was still Alex filling his every odd thought, and especially his fantasies at night. Doomed indeed as Max warned him, to drift through life enjoying the surface companionship of others but never anything more.
The reminder of what he did have currently, good sex and the ability to laugh with someone, loosened some of the private rules that Michael had had kept to with Kyle. “So, I mean, you don’t have to, but if you want to talk about what’s on your mind, you can.” Michael tipped his head back against the couch to meet Kyle’s surprised expression. “It would make me feel better about my sexual prowess, okay? You nodding off during a blowjob hurts man.”
“Well, as long as it makes you feel better,” Kyle teased sarcastically before accepting the offer made. “I was thinking about my dad.”
“Kinky, but gross, dude.”
“Ha ha, funny.”
“Sorry, sorry, that was wide open.” Michael nudged his shoulder more seriously, “what about your dad?”
“He’s been acting weird lately. I actually thought he was drinking again,” Kyle waived his hand restlessly, “it’s an open secret my dad has been on and off the wagon. Most cops have a close relationship with booze.”
The Roswell circle of repeated gossipry was wide enough to reach Sanders, customers often needing to make some sort of conversation as they waited, so Michael was pretty familiar with the rumors about Jim Valenti. Most of them he ignored, like the infidelity whispers, because he could still remember the man showing up to Mimi Deluca’s house to offer Alex that first steady job in the face of Jesse’s smear campaign. An act that Jesse had retaliated by sponsoring a challenger to the next year’s sheriff’s race.
For a police officer, Michael cut Jim Valenti some slack in the character department. He also wasn’t a bad boss according to Max, though his brother’s opinion didn’t sway Michael as far as Jim’s act of kindness to Alex had.
“You said you thought he was drinking again, but he’s not?”
“Well, my other suspicion was he was cheating on my mom.” Kyle met Michael’s concerned glance with a tired, dark smile. “Yeah, not a great thought to have, but he’s been disappearing a lot. Acting paranoid too, he always carries but I noticed he kept his sidearm on him during Sunday dinner. Like he’s afraid someone is going to show up and attack him.”
“You think he was cheating with someone else who was married?”
“I can’t really figure out what’s going on with him, other than he’s lying. But I followed him today, and he didn’t go to work, he drove a hundred miles north.”
Michael blinked in reluctant admiration, “I guess you pick up stuff with two cops as parents.” He racked his brain for something more to say, but his conversational skills had never been gifted to begin with outside of charming someone into bed. “Um, in my experience, cheaters stay close to home. Like coworker, favorite waitress, etc. it’s definitely weird for your dad to drive that far for a little something on the side.”
“That’s the thing, he’s all secretive but it's over something nostalgic. I followed him to some old prison my grandfather worked at in the 60s called Caulfield. It’s been shut down for years. I can’t figure it out, and short of asking him directly I doubt I will.” Kyle shook his head again before inching closer to Michael on the couch, with a slow growing knowing smile, “So now you know where my head was when-“
“When I was trying to give you head?” Michael snarked playfully, picking up the change in mood easily. Apparently talking it out loud had released whatever mental block Kyle had been struggling with before. The moment reminded him of how he used to hold Alex at night, listening to him vent over the various customers in his day before he was able to wind down enough to enjoy any intimate touch.
Fuck. He was thinking about Alex again.
This time he let Kyle pulling him into a kiss distract him fully from the renewed spiral of remembrance. His body warmed slowly as Michael shut down his brain from wandering east again to Nashville.
***
“Your soul and your heart have been in such opposition,” Mimi murmured, holding Michael’s palm between hers as she gave him a reading at the Wild Pony. It was his way of distracting her while Maria gently soothed two customers that had received a deep lecture about the sins on their souls from her mother. To be fair, Michael could tell from their demeanor and close cut hair that each of them had served or were actively serving in the military, so Mimi Deluca probably wasn’t too far wrong from the mark with her lecture. “I know you’re a traveler, child, but this pull north and east could tear you in two.”
“My heart hasn’t been mine for a while,” Michael replied truthfully. Once he and Alex had moved in with one another, the small family of outcasts with Alex, Maria and Mimi had expanded to include him for a while. And once upon a time it had boasted more members like Rosa and Liz, but his sister’s actions had trimmed those branches in one way or another.
“That’s the east, and while it travels ever closer to you, you’ll never get that back. But north though, if you follow that path, perhaps your soul will find peace.”
“Not sure what I’d do with peace.”
“Maybe pay your bar tab once in a while?” Maria injected as she moved back behind the bar with a gentle hand on her mother’s shoulder. “And not starting a fight in my bar would also be a good start.”
“Come on, Deluca, I have been a very good boy since that last go-around Jake. I swear that kid is a closet case with how badly he seems to want me to lay hands on him,” Michael protested weakly. Truly he had only bent his old promise to Alex a handful of times in the last year and all of them because the Fredrickson kid had brought up Alex in some way. The comments about his job, clothes, and cheap taste in booze could all be ignored, but one word about Alex’s music or success and the gloves came off.
“Maria! Don’t be so mean to Michael, his people aren’t designed to live like this, divided in two.”
Despite the chill from Mimi’s words, Michael knew that Maria didn’t take her mother’s talk too seriously with how often she peppered her premonitions with nineties alien blockbuster movies. She always interpreted her mother’s words as being a romantic metaphor about a lost love.
Suddenly Mimi straightened, looking over Michael’s shoulder. “I guess good can come from evil dying.”
In the mirror over the bar, he caught sight of what Mimi saw. A grip closed over his heart, squeezing it until the fluttering motion ceased under the force as he watched Alex Manes move confidently through the crowd toward the front where Michael was with Maria. His head was shaved close up the back of his head, leaving a long, silky dark fringe over one eye and his face was bare of makeup and piercings. The black shirt sporting long sleeves made of crisscrossed fabric over a pair of tight black jeans looked more at home on Rodeo Drive than Roswell but the completely indifferent look on Alex’s face showed he didn’t care about fitting in to the locals bar.
Fuck it was so quintessentially Alex’s attitude from high school, before the shed, that Michael was having trouble remembering it had been at least six years.
“Alex Manes, in my bar!” Maria squealed, vaulting herself over the bar in one smooth motion to cross the distance to throw herself into his arms.
Michael’s mouth was dry as he picked up his drink to take a sip, feeling awkward and out of place. Should he offer his hand to shake? A hug? Could he pretend to be European and kiss Alex’s cheeks? What were the rules on an ex that he traded Hallmark cards with now?
A soft cool touch pulling him back from his spiraling thoughts to look up into Mimi Deluca’s clear and focused gaze, “he sings in the wrong key every night, but you know his song. You’re a good boy, you’re not rotten inside like your sister.”
Before he could do more than blink, Alex was suddenly next to them, looking at Mimi’s hand covering his curiously before smiling at Michael. “I would have thought you’d be tired of this place, after all those nights waiting for me to finish my shift?”
“Alex,” Michael took a deep breath, floundering for something more than the obvious, “you’re here. In Roswell.”
“It wasn’t really my idea,” Alex admitted gently, before taking a seat next to him. He reached smoothly for Michael’s glass to steal a drink from before making a face. “Oh man, it’s been a long time since I’ve had Crown Royal.” He fished out an expensive wallet to pull a crisp hundred dollar bill from a stack to lay on the bar, “Maria, please rescue him from this with some good tequila.”
Mimi gave Michael a significant look of encouragement before interjecting, “Maria, honey you should let these two get reacquainted, Alex isn’t going anywhere for a while. Jesse is dying, but he’s not dying today or even tomorrow.”
Michael jerked his head toward Alex, “that’s why you’re here? It’s your dad?”
A small smile of satisfaction twitched over Alex’s mouth before he nodded in confirmation, “Brain tumor. Doctor says he might have a month, maybe less. I’m only here because my brother threatened to go to the press if I didn’t show and my agent is worried about how that would look.”
“Oh.” Michael picked up his fresh drink, a high end alcohol he could have never dreamed of ordering for himself, out of a need to do something with his hands to keep from reaching out to touch Alex. “If I said that sucks for you that he’s dying, I’d be lying, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, Michael.” Alex clinked his glass against Michael’s softly, “I’ve been back for a couple of days, this was the first time I could get away actually. The movies all lied you know, cancer isn’t this quiet death. My dad is ranting and raving all night long, about aliens, about being murdered, about all sorts of random shit about Roswell and the crash and hands that kill. Your name has kept coming up too. I should record it and put it on youtube, make him famous too.”
***
#guerinweek20#mgweek20#malex#malex fic#guerenti#the lost decade#au after the shed#there will be a happy ending#angst first#pining idiots in love#roswell new mexico
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You Aren’t Alone... I Promise- Malcolm Bright Imagine (Prodigal Son)
Title: You Aren’t Alone... I Promise
Pairing: Malcolm Bright X Reader (I tried to make this gender neutral)
Requested: Nope!
Word Count: 2,687
Warning(s): Kidnapping, death, mentions of previous murders, general dark subjects so please read with caution
Summary: Malcolm and (Y/n) were always close. (Y/n) had accepted every part of Malcolm, no questions asked. Most people would look at this as something amazing, right? But what if there was something more? What if there was something more to the situation than anyone knew?
Author’s Note: I have been tossing this idea around for so long! I am very excited to writ it but it’s going to be a little bit long so be prepared.
-------------------------------------------------
“Hello,” I said in a cheery voice, closing the door slowly behind me. My mom walked around the corner and hugged me. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she replied. “What are you doing here?”
“I managed to get ready early so I thought I’d stop by on my way to work,” I shrugged.
“Would you like some coffee,” my mom asked, pointing at her coffee maker. “I just made a fresh pot.”
“That sounds great,” I nodded, walking to her fridge and grabbing out some coffee creamer.
“Have you guys had any interesting cases lately,” she handed me a travel cup, its lid, and a spoon. I shrugged.
“We had a murder last week but nothing too extreme since then,” I replied.
“Well, maybe you should head in so you don’t miss anything,” she stuck her tongue out at me.
“I’m sure talking to you a little bit in the morning won’t make me mi-”
And then my phone started ringing. I groaned and looked at the caller ID. Gil was calling.
“And that’s my queue to go,” I shrugged. My mom pulled me into a tight hug, wishing me good luck.
I quickly answered my phone on my way out, struggling to push open the door with the travel cup and my bag. Gil quickly rambled off a few quick facts as I went jogging out of the apartment.
**Time Skip**
Come at least pick-up a little dinner tonight, I smiled to myself as I read my mom’s text.
She didn’t have to offer me food on a normal basis... I was an adult. She didn’t need to let me steal her coffee. She was always doing the most. Probably more than needed but I loved her more than anything for that.
“I thought I was the only one who smiled at crime scenes,” my smile went from my phone to Malcolm, who was walking over. “How has your morning been?”
“Definitely better than others,” I shrugged, giving him a brief hug. “What about you?”
He raised his eyebrows for a second with a look. That had become a simple signal. Still didn’t get enough sleep, probably didn’t eat, and his mom probably stopped by. I hugged him again, kissing his cheek.
“Okay, we have a crime scene to look at,” I said with a grin. He nodded and grabbed my hand, dragging me over to the scene, and then promptly dropped my hand.
The scene was in an alleyway. It was like the killer was making a show of it all. Who were they entertaining? No one besides themselves. It was disturbing to see or think about.
I was ready to vomit when I walked into the room. A girl was tied up by her wrists. She looked like she was covered in blood. Her hair was matted, her clothes had blood stains and tears in it. Malcolm’s hand briefly touched my back as my face morphed into a look of pure disgust.
“Alright, please fill us in,” I said, looking over to our little team.
“Chloe Morrow, 23, found tied up without her tongue,” I grimaced as Gil relayed the information. “Edrisa has more specifics.”
“Yes,” Edrisa popped her from behind the body. “So... as bloody as she looks... that wasn’t the cause of death.”
“How the hell is that not the cause of death,” J.T asked.
“Well, the cuts were made after the victim had died, something else killed her,” she shrugged. “I don’t quite know what it was but my money would be on an overdose if it wasn’t lack of food or water. She was definitely dead before most of the bigger marks were made.”
“That’s so demented,” I mumbled. “And then to display them in public. God.”
“What are these,” we all looked at Malcolm, who had since walked over and lifted the shirt of the victim.
“Don’t know, it looks like a code but I don’t understand it,” Edrisa replied.
I stepped a little closer, staring at the markings. They were written in pen...thick, black marker. The killer wanted to know that you could see the marks. My eyes widened as it clicked.
“I know what this is,” I said. Everyone gave me the look that they usually give Malcolm, absolutely confused and a little more shocked than they need to be. “It’s Pigpen cipher. I learned it from my... parents.”
“What does it say,” Malcolm asked. I held my hand out, asking for a pen and paper. I quickly jotted down the symbols and filled them in letter by letter. “So?”
“‘I’m home,’“ I answered. “That’s what it says. Why?”
“Edrisa, find the cause of death,” Gil started listing off responsibilities. “Dani and (Y/n), go see if we have files on any other killers that use messages like this.”
**Time Skip**
“Nothing,” I smacked the table. “We’ve been searching for hours and we’ve found fucking nothing!”
“Hey, hey,” Dani stood up from her seat. “We’ll figure this out.”
“I just want answers,” I groaned, grabbing a file and opening it. I read over the general details. “Holy shit.”
“Did you find something,” she asked.
“Unsolved case, the photos are of pigpen cipher, and disturbing injuries,” I handed a few photos over to Dani. “It looks like that last case was almost 13 years ago.”
“Maybe the killer was on the run for a while and now feels like they can come back,” she suggested.
“Or it’s a copycat,” I mumbled, praying that it was only a copycat and not the original killer because... of personal reasons. That’s when the team walked in.
“What did you find,” Malcolm asked, looking right over my shoulder.
“Almost an exact match for our murder,” I answered. “Cipher, injuries, all of it.”
“What does the cipher say,” Gil leaned on the table.
“It looks like quite a few have been translated,” I shrugged. I rambled off a few examples, “‘Faith, money, liar...’“
“They’re all messages, lessons,” Malcolm added. I nodded.
“This guy has a serious John Kramer complex,” I looked at the confused stares from Gil, J.T, and Dani. “Jigsaw? From the Saw movies? The torture-porn ones?”
“Ew,” J.T. mumbled.
“He thinks he’s superior,” I continued explaining. “He thinks he’ll inspire people by completely mutilating others.”
“Disgusting,” J.T grimaced. I nodded.
“The Pigpen Killer,” Malcolm decided. We all looked at him. “What? I can’t give the serial killer a name?”
We all ignored his question as Gil started speaking.
“Alright, we comb through evidence, follow up on any leads they had,” Gil instructed. “We need a list of who to look into. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Malcolm playfully saluted before grabbing the file from my hands.
**Time Skip**
“Try and get a little bit of sleep,” I mumbled, kissing Malcolm’s forehead as I went to walk out of the precinct.
“I’ll try,” he replied before fully kissing me. “Get home safe, please.”
“I will,” I promised. “Bye.”
“Goodbye,” he waved at me as I walked off.
I was on high alert the entire walk. I had rounded corners slowly, ready to fight if I needed to. I probably looked insane but I didn’t care. This was exactly what I needed to do.
I thought that everything was perfect. I thought I was being safe... and I was. I thought I was going to be able to go home and relax.
I did get home.
I didn’t get to relax.
I walked in and was met with another person right inside. I was about to scream when a cloth was held over my mouth. I struggled against whoever had grabbed me until I felt a cloud form around my brain as my body went numb. I slowly stopped fighting as everything went black around me.
**Time Skip**
I slowly woke up, blinking and trying to clear my head. The entire night slowly came back to me as I looked around. I was still in my living room. My arms were secured behind me and my legs were tied. There was some kind of cloth tied in my mouth.
My breath picked up when I heard footsteps behind me. I wanted to yell or do something but I couldn’t. I only saw the person’s back as they walked to my table and grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me.
He yanked his hood off. My eyes went wide. He pulled the cloth out of my mouth with a smirk. It wasn’t a copycat. Why couldn’t it be a copycat?
“Dad,” I asked in absolute shock. He chuckled before doing some weird, condescending version of jazz hands.
“Hi,” he said. “Did you like my little code? Did you tell your cop friends or did they figure it out?”
“Why are you here,” I asked. “Why did you come back?”
“Can I not visit my kid,” he replied.
“You were on the run,” I continued. “You probably could have hidden away for the rest of your life. You didn’t need to come back to the city and start killing again.”
“I don’t want to hide,” my dad rolled his eyes. “And I won’t have to.”
“Why,” I mumbled.
“Because you’re going to confess,” he explained, standing up to grab a camera from my closet that typically had my paper towels and other cleaning supplies. My apartment was kind of tiny. “You’re going to confess on camera to the murders of my 13 victims... well... now 14. I go off, never looking over my shoulder again, and you get a cute fluffy prison cell where you might get to eventually see your little boyfriend.”
“If you hurt Malcolm, I swear-”
“I won’t touch him,” my dad rolled his eyes. “I will... however.... kill your mom if you refuse. Remember when she tried to turn me in?”
“You’re psychotic.”
“The police still have me as a suspect because of her,” he ignored me. “Now... she’s tied up in your bathroom. If you refuse, I make a message out of her. If you don’t refuse... it ends. You and your team will never have to deal with me again. Look at the facts. You confess... and I disappear. Deal?”
“How do I know I can believe you,” I asked. “You could just be lying so I’ll play by your rules.”
“Oh my god,” my dad moved and grabbed the back of my chair.
He tilted it back slightly so he could drag me over to my bathroom door. He pushed the door open and there was my mom, tied in place, sobbing, clearly scared out of her mind... and I couldn’t help her. My eyes filled with tears.
“So, do we have a deal,” he repeated. I nodded. “Good... keep yourself together. The crying will give something away.”
He dragged me back to my previous spot and set up the camera. I bit my lip, staring at the floor. I was trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say... and then another thought came to mind.
Malcolm. He was pretty much the perfect profiler. He would know this was fake. Maybe he would know that I wasn’t actually guilty. He could be my hero.
“Ready,” my dad clapped his hands. I nodded slowly. “Okay... and...”
He just pointed to me when he hit record.
“I guess that guilt gets to us all at some point,” I started. “I have fooled everyone since I was in my teens. I used the appearance of innocence to hide everything I did and create a conspiracy around my own father. I am what the police have named the Pigpen Killer. I’m sorry to my team and to everyone who trusted me. It’s time to move forward. It’s time to face the time for my actions. It’s over.”
The camera switched off and my dad clapped again. I jumped at the sound.
“Good job,” he cheered. “All of that in the first take, I’m impressed.”
“Just let my mom and me go,” I hissed as he walked over to my computer. I watched him transfer the video. This was it. The day everything ended.
“I can’t let you call the police after I leave,” he shrugged, finally moving away from the computer. “So we’re going to watch the news of your little video.”
“How are you going to make sure that you don’t get caught if they come here to get me,” I asked.
“Don’t worry about that,” he shrugged, pulling a chair over to sit next to me after turning on the TV.
I couldn’t see anything but I could hear it. My heart started beating faster and faster. This was going to be the end of it all... if Malcolm couldn’t help me. I needed Malcolm to help me.
**Time Skip**
I had started crying once the report started. Not only was the news going, but Ainsley was the one reporting. I could hear her voice crack as she spoke. My shoulders were shaking as I started sobbing. They all thought I was evil. Everyone.
I had gotten to the point where I had given up hope. I was going to jail, my dad was going to go free, and my mom was going to be left on her own. It was over. I was done for.
“I should really be going,” my dad said, as if I wasn’t tied up. “It was nice seeing you, kiddo.”
I just glared at him as he walked around me. I turned my gaze to the ground as he started to untie me. Both of us froze when the door slammed open.
A group of detectives walked in. A few grabbed my dad but I was focused on Malcolm, who had come speed-walking in after them. He was quick to untie my arms before starting on one leg while I started on the other one.
I basically dove off of the chair and hugged him tightly. Malcolm rubbed my back, mumbling quietly in my ear. I moved back for a second.
“My mom,” I said through my sobs. “She’s tied up in the bathroom.”
“Get her,” Malcolm nodded to Dani.
The rest of the event was a blur. Malcolm had guided me outside. I watched my dad get pushed into the back of the cop car. Malcolm wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I finally mumbled, after standing next to him in silence for a long time. “I knew that you’d know I was lying.”
“You didn’t move your body at all,” Malcolm explained. “I knew something was wrong.”
“Thank you,” I repeated before kissing his cheek. “I... I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my dad.”
“It’s alright,” he replied. “It’s just he was still running around and I didn’t want him to hurt you or Ainsley or Jessica or Dani or Gil or-”
“I understand,” Malcolm cupped the sides of my face as he cut me off. “I completely understand, I promise. From one kid with a psychotic dad to another, I understand.”
“Can I stay at your place tonight,” I asked. He nodded softly, kissing my forehead. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he mumbled, pulling me closer as he started leading me away from the scene.
That night, my name was cleared. With a smile, Ainsley reported that my confession was false and that the true killer has been arrested. My mom was taken care of and protected so she could have a peaceful night’s sleep. Everyone was safe... everyone was home.
The city blew up with the news. Some of them were honoring the victims. Some of them were saying that they knew I was innocent. The internet ran with it; screaming about the false confession from the comfort of their couches.
Malcolm and I just went straight to his apartment. He sat on the couch with me, waiting for me to fall asleep... which I didn’t. We found this quiet peace where no one had to talk. No one had to be scared. It was the only thing I could ask for at that moment.
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#malcolm bright imagine#malcolm bright fanfiction#prodigal son imagine#prodigal son fanfiction#imagine#fanfiction
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Cheeky Chickens 01
@ice-demigod-skrael, @flamekeeperbellroc
Are you sure she is here?
She must be. Where else would such strong magic reside?
And she will not suspect our presence?
Not in the least.
Jane had brought Lady Blanche Rabbit and The Good Dragon to school. It was their turn out of the toybox, after all, and she had two whole empty seats next to her. After kissing her mother bye-bye for the day, she spent a good many minutes arranging a few books on the chairs so that The Good Dragon could see over the desk. He was even shorter than Jane, after all, and even the smallest, fluffiest student deserved to see the board.
Through the bustle and chatter, a bell tinkled, signaling the start of class. Obediently, the students quieted down and faced the front where Miss Lenore stood besides her own grown-up sized desk.
“Good morning, little farm animals!”
The class answered in a variety of animal sounds. including Jane in her own little voice. She was the smallest in the class by far, but she’d at least try to keep up with the others.
“Whoa, that’s a lot of animals out on the farm today! Let’s see.” She raised a hand as if to shield her eyes from the sun, making a show of counting the number of students. “Let me check. Are all my grumpy goats here? Hello, grumpy goats?”
A table of five children sat below a laminated drawing of a goat. The children baa’ed.
“Good job. Now how about my captivating cows? Are all my captivating cows present?”
Another table moo’ed and lowed.
“And my pleasant piggies?”
Oinking from the respective team.
“All right, looks like everyone is here but -- wait. Where are my cheeky chickens?”
Jane in the back pulled Lady Blanche Rabbit into her chest, unsure if it was really necessary to cluck out loud. She was the only one at the table, even though there were other empty seats at the other three locations. It was clear she was present.
Miss Lenore, however, seemed to decide that it wasn’t good enough. She raised a hand to her ear, and raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That’s strange. I didn’t hear any cheeky chickens, and I know we have one. Where’s my last chicken hiding?”
Jane flushed, and buried her face in the rabbit. She inhaled, half-wishing to disappear before Miss Lenore said anything else when --
“We were not hiding! We were simply late.”
All eyes shot to the front, including Jane’s. There stood two taller kids, one with a shock of white hair and blue as can be, and the other one had hair so rad that it made her think a little bit of a volcano.
Neither of them had backpacks, but the blue one handed Miss Lenore a slip of paper. “I do beg your forgiveness,” he said. “We got lost on the way here from … um.” They looked to at the red one, who seemed to be busy scanning the classroom to help.
Then, after a moment, the red one realized, and piped up, searching for words. “From...the office.”
“Yes -- yes the office. We are new here.”
“Yes. New students.”
“In your class.”
“This class.”
“And we are cheeky chickens indeed.”
Miss Lenore said nothing for a moment. She looked at them both. The blue one, with their heavy black coat, and the red one with their thick, dark glasses. She had never looked so lost, and Jane found herself wondering if these were even kids at all. They looked almost like cartoons brought to life, with how brightly they were colored. Within moments, however, Miss Lenore collected herself and nodded. “It says here your names are Bellroc and Skrael?”
The pair nodded in turn. Bellroc was the red one. Skrael, the blue.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Foolish mortal,” Bellroc declared. “Those are our names. First, last, and only.”
“Well!” Miss Lenore gasped, just as Skrael elbowed Bellroc in the side. “I don’t know what your parents taught you, but we don’t use insults here.”
“What?” they hissed, eyes on Skrael, then, realizing their mistake, they turned back to Miss Lenore with gritted teeth. “Oh. Excuse me. Our … parents … told me I have to learn to be nicer.”
“Which is why we are here,” added Skrael.
“Yes. We are here. To learn.”
Miss Lenore fumbled. “Right. Of course.”
“Now, good instructor, teach us to be, as you say, cheeky chickens.”
Miss Lenore coughed, and nodded, suddenly turning bubbly and bright once more and turned to the class. “Excellent. We do actually have some space available in our chicken coop. Do I have a volunteer to help these two find their seats?”
At the table, the other two kids looked pointedly away. Jane found herself the only one still facing forward, if half-hidden behind a stuffed rabbit. She still struggled to speak, but, with more strength than needed to push a mountain, she managed to lift one of Lady Blanche Rabbit’s hands.
Miss Lenore clapped. “Excellent job, Jane. Kids, why don’t you two go over there and let Jane help you get ready. I have to, um. I have to go ask a few questions. Can you all sit tight for ten minutes?”
The class all nodded.
“Great job! Now, you two go get your seats and I’ll be right back.”
“We can see the chairs clearly ourselves,” Bellroc announced.
“Of course. I see you're two very clever kids.”
And with that, Miss Lenore made her way out one door. In came a high school student, decked out in dark colors and countless bracelets.
“All right, animals. You know the drill. No noise, or else I tell. Okay?”
“Okay, Sam,” the kids intoned.
Sure enough, Sam dropped into Miss Lenore’s chair, slapped a pair of headphones on, and began to bob their heads to music. Skrael made a note to inspect their music-making device later, but Bellroc was already on their way across the room. He rushed to catch up.
All eyes were on the pair as they made their way to the table furthest from the board, backed by a bookcase and a row of cubbies with children’s names on them. Jane, afraid of being teased for having two stuffed animals that day, stood up to clear off The Good Dragon’s seat of books and hide him carefully away in her little cubby.
“I’ll see you at lunch. Be good, and I love you,” she whispered, and kissed his forehead before turning back to see the two new kids standing over her chair.
“What’s that?” Skrael asked.
“It looks like some sort of child’s toy,” said Bellroc.
“This is a child’s place of work. Everything here is a child’s toy.” Ignoring the stares, Skrael reached out to grab the toy by the ear, but he’d barely reached it when --
“Don’t touch her!” Jane darted over, scooping up the rabbit and squeezing her tight. “She doesn’t like being touched by strangers.”
Skrael chuckled, but Bellroc leaned forward, inspecting the rabbit. “Does she? This toy has feelings and preferences?”
“Yeah.” Jane nodded, looking down to smooth out the rabbit’s fur. “Her name is Lady Blanche Rabbit. She’s kind of shy, but she likes to brush her ears, and her favorite food is star-shaped sprinkles, and her dad is the king of a secret forest. She came here to save her people, but she has to do it in disguise.”
“Fascinating.” They stood up, pulling Skrael in close to whisper. “Do you know what this means, Skrael?”
“That this is going to be hilarious?”
“No-- you fool. Focus. This child has trapped the soul of a noble in her toy.”
Skrael’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Bellroc. “An infant necromancer.”
Bellroc grinned. “Or a warlock.”
“Either way, useful.”
“Indeed, and --”
“Excuse me,” Jane said, finally drawing their attention back to the room. “We’re not allowed to tell secrets in class. It makes people feel left out.”
Skrael put on their best smile. “Of course. You must forgive us, we are still new to the ways of this world.”
Jane nodded. “I understand. My mom’s from Europe. She says it’s hard to get used to new places. Are you from Europe?”
A pause. Then, Bellroc nodded. “Yes….we’re from Europe. How clever of you to know.”
Jane smiled. “That’s so cool. I bet you know a lot of languages. Um. You can sit next to me, if you want. There’s two chairs right there.”
In fact, there were four. Bellroc and Skrael chose the ones directly across from Jane, and grinned. “You probably know a lot about this place, don’t you, Jane?” Bellroc asked.
She nodded. “I know a little bit, yeah.”
“And, seeing as we are new and From Europe, you would not be against teaching us, would you?”
Another nod, more hesitant. “If you want, I can teach you.”
“We promise not to touch your Lady Blanche,” Skrael added.
“Lady Blanche Rabbit,” Jane corrected. “She likes her full name to be used.
Skrael snickered. “A more than understandable request. Lady Blanche Rabbit, it is a pleasure.” He inclined his head into a mocking bow.
Jane manipulated the rabbit’s hand to make it wave back. “She can’t talk, but I think she thinks you’re cool.”
Another snicker. “Lady Blanche Rabbit, you have no idea.”
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Help 9
Warnings: dub-con, smut, A/B/O dynamics. Read at your own risk
check the masterlist for more parts to this series and other risks.
Jana gasped as Florian entered her from behind. He cursed behind her as he kept a tight grip on her hips, practically bruising her. She sniffed as Florian gave her every inch of him. The stretch felt so good. She moaned as she kept on her hands and knees. Even though she told herself to try and fight it happening again, she couldn’t. She was too wrapped up in it now. Every day was a struggle. She kept submitting to him. Over and over. And more and more, she didn’t care anymore.
Through her heat, Jana couldn’t keep away from Florian. She’d smell him and fall apart all over again. And likewise, Florian would be sent into a rut each time. They were like any other paired Alpha and Omega during a heat. Bringing relief to each other. For the past three days, they had been held up in the house doing little else, but having sex and small mundane things in between. Jana thought her heat would be ending soon, but she forgot about time whenever Florian fucked her.
Being with him or more so underneath him made everything melt away. His touch, she once shunned, became a cure. Her body craved him. Their bond growing stronger. The bite on her shoulder ached. Jana’s body hummed for him. She felt helpless and she started to enjoy that. Letting him have control. Letting him feel her. Letting him have her. Jana would get these flares from her heat and Florian would become the only thing that she saw. The only thing she could think about.
Florian thrusted into Jana. He was still careful to not hurt her as she was still getting used to him. Jana clenched around him, the sheets wrinkled in her fists. “Florian!” Jana moaned.
Florian grunted as he pumped into Jana. Jana threw her head back as she whined. Florian was hitting the spongy parts of her that made everything feel so much better. Pleasure flowed through her waves. One rolling cascade after the other. Her arousal coated Florian’s member, making it easy for him to slip in and out of her. In her heightened state, the sensation was almost too much. She began to pull away from Florian.
Florian watched her attempt to crawl away, only to snap her back into him. Jana let out a screech as Florian fucked into her. “Don’t run.”
Jana gave an incoherent response. She buried her face in the sheets as her toes curled. Florian leaned over her, letting his weight trap her. “Fuck!” She cried.
Florian huffed in her ear. Her moans were a drive to give her what she had been needing. Jana cried as her orgasm neared. Her body begged for this. The pressure in her core tightening. She wanted Florian to fill again and again. Even if she wasn’t going to be pregnant after this, Jana’s body called for his seed.
Florian leaned in, licking the mark on her shoulder. The feel of his tongue quelling her, slightly. Though, she squirmed as she felt her orgasm welling up inside her even more. Tears ran down her face as she felt ready to come undone. This orgasm just as intense as all the over she had experienced over the past few days. Florian’s rhythm became uncoordinated. He felt his load rising and was ready to let loose.
Jana screamed as she tried to pull herself forward as she came. Florian followed her as he shot into her. Thick ropes of cum plastering her walls. Jana’s walls contracted, sucking up every drop of him. Florian lifted off of Jana let himself and her breath.
They both were coated in sweat. The comforter was ruffled and stained. Pillows had fallen from the bed. The sheets pulled and bunched at the head of the bed where they began but, couldn’t stay. The bed itself had moved off the wall and was now crooked and no longer centered.
Jana laid disheveled and some sense coming together. She rolled on her side to look up at Florian. He knew what she needed without her even saying it. It had almost seemed like a ritual for the past few days. He picked up her and take her to the shower. A calming shower would be the last bit of relief before she’d need him again.
Jana held the towel to her as she glared in the mirror. The bite was something that would forever call her attention. The one permanent mark. She dropped the towel. Hickies and nips left along her chest and shoulders. There were bruises on her hips from Florian’s hands. Scratches decorated her back. She rubbed one small scratch going across her collar bone. For some reason, she felt pleasure. Bliss, even. The marks were from her Alpha. Temporary, but still symbols that only he would be able to do this for her.
The old Jana was beginning to lay dormant. Each time they laid together, there was less resistance. She should be disgusted with herself. She hardly put up a fight this time. When he pinned her to the bed, she simply whimpered. The kisses started to be returned. This was the first time she didn’t try to run or resist.
Jana snapped back to reality. She didn’t want another episode again. She quickly put on clothes and sat in front of the oscillating fan Florian put in the closet for her to keep her cool when she got too warm during the past few days.
Later, they retreated to the couch for movies and pizza. Jana had her head in Florian’s lap as she laid across the couch. Florian played with her ends. Jana moaned as his fingertips massaged her scalp. He smiled down at her and turned back to the tv. They were watching some action thriller, but a scene came on with the main character's family. They both watched it with different things going through their heads.
Florian thought about how he was so excited to become a father. The thought of Jana’s stomach swollen with his children almost made him hard again. He knew he would be a good dad one day. As long as he was patient for just a bit longer, Florian would have his wish.
Jana, on the other hand, thought about how her family had discarded her. She didn’t really know love. The love of a few friends, sure. But the love that unwavering? Unconditional? Not really. She wasn’t a sentimental person. However, it hurt when her own family saw her as an outcast. Jana knew she wasn’t unlovable, but she just couldn’t get it where she was supposed to.
Florian looked down and could tell by Jana’s eyes that she had withdrawn and was deep in thought. “Arjana? Are you okay?” he said.
She nodded against him. “Yeah.” she said. Jana shifted and looked back up at him. Her eyes were soft and his were almost sympathetic. Like he knew what she was thinking about. She had been with him for a long time now and only him. Florian believed at this stage he could trust her. Either way, this could be a test for her as well now that they were bonded.
Florian paused the movie and tapped Jana, signaling her to sit up. “Wait here.” Jana watched him leave the living room and come back with a familiar object in her hand. Her phone. Why did he still have it? He sat back down on the couch with her. He put an arm around her as unlocked her phone.
“I know you might be missing your family. Believe me, I would have liked not to keep you out of contact with them. I just needed to be able to trust you. We’re in a good place now so…” Florian said, handing you your phone. “Call them. They’ve texted you a few times so, I’m sure they would want to hear from you.”
Jana took her phone and looked out. The last conversation she had with her parents face to face was them telling her she was being cut off. The last phone conversation was very short before they were to take a trip. She wasn’t sure how she was going to be received.
“What do I say?” she said.
“Just talk to them. Tell them you’re alright.” Florian said. She looked up at him. He wasn’t glaring at her, daring her to alert whoever she called that she had been taken captive. He was studying her though.
Jana pulled up her contacts list and scrolled to the house phone to her parents. She tried to contemplate, but with Florian right in front of her, there would be no way she could alert anyone she called that she was less than alright. But the Omega in her told her why would she? They were mated now and things were different. She was about to hit call when Florian spoke. “Put it on speaker.” he said. Jana hit the call button and put the phone on speaker as instructed. The phone rang 4 times before it picked up.
“Hello?” her mother said.
“Hey, mom.” Jana said, almost excited to hear her mom’s voice.
“Whose on the phone?” she heard her dad say in the background.
“Jana’s called.” her mom said. She could hear the phone being moved and placed somewhere.
“Dad?” Jana said.
“We’re surprised you called.” her mother said.
“You must need money.” her dad said, abruptly.
Jana tried not to scoff. “No. I was just calling to check in.” she said. “We hadn’t talked in a while.”
“Are you keeping up that apartment?” her dad asked. “That gym job is working out for you?”
Jana looked up at Florian. He nodded to her and mouthed, “Tell them.”
“Yeah, um...Actually, I had to move out of there. Found someplace better.” Jana said.
“You must mean cheaper. I figured you wouldn’t be able to afford it after a while.” her dad said.
“No, that wasn’t it.” Jana said, almost as if she was frustrated.
“Do you at least like where you are now?” her mom asked.
“Yeah. It’s nice.” Jana said, looking up at Florian.
“Hmm. Sure, it is.” her dad said almost with a chuckle in his voice. “And your suppressants? Still taking them?”
Jana bit her lip and looked up at Florian again. He glared back at her. He motioned toward the phone beckoning her to give them a response. “Um...yes. But I’ve meant someone.” Florian leaned in a bit as a precaution.
“Someone to take you off our hands, hopefully. Maybe, now you can get off your meds. Finally, be with someone else.” her dad said. Florian was taken aback by the statement. Jana’s eyebrows furrowed as she kept the phone in her hand.
“Do you have to be so dismissive of me?” Jana asked. “I meet one person and you immediately want to say good riddance. Am I not your daughter?”
“You are an Omega. As an Omega, you naturally must find an Alpha or they will find you. It’s the natural order. You live to be mated and bound to someone. That’s it.” her dad said.
“Plus, things are just easier that way, honey.” Jana’s mom said.
And there it was. The traditionalist Alpha ideas that her father always carried. Of all his children, the one daughter and Omega he had, he couldn’t wait to get rid of. Nevermind that some Alphas had no control whether by nature or choice. She could have ended up with anyone. They potentially couldn’t have gotten this call. On top of that, her mother bending to her father’s will and word. They may have protected her growing up, but that amounted to nothing in the present.
Jana’s jaw became locked. She swallowed this lump in her throat. Her eyes stung. She sniffled and shifted. It was time to end this conversation. “Yeah, okay.” she said, her voice cracking. “I just thought I would call and talk to you guys.” She noted that this was all a mistake. Everything came flooding back. She slowly started to choke.
“Well, it was nice to hear from you.” her mother said in a chipper tone. No doubt she caught on to the silence from Jana’s end.
“Good night, Arjana.” her dad said before hitting the end button.
Jana locked her phone and dropped it on the couch. The tears began to roll down her cheeks uncontrollably. She tried swallowing a sob by biting her lip and sucking on it. Something she used to do as a child.
Florian stared at Jana as she fell apart in front of him. He reached for her hand, but she ripped away from him. “Leave me alone!” she cried. Florian blinked and Jana had left the couch and ran into the nearest bathroom. The door slammed before Florian could even turn in the direction she ran in.
Jana leaned over the sink, trying to hold in sobs, but ultimately failing. She let everything come out. Her vision clouded with tears, snot threatening to run down her nose. She was angry, sad and frustrated. All it took was a short five-minute call for her to break down. She started to think about her childhood and how discarded she was. And now even more so because her family could have cared less if she had been mated by an abusive Alpha or one that actually cared for her. As long as she was out of the way.
Jana jumped at the knock on the door. “Jana.” Florian called. “Talk to me, baby.”
“Go away.” Jana said through her sobs. She sniffled as she leaned over the sink and put her hands to her face, moving her twists out of the way.
“Jana, open the door.” Florian said.
Florian stood on the other side. He knew the door wasn’t locked and he could have easily opened it himself. However, he wanted Jana to come out under her own will. He was going to be patient and caring. Plus he had to be careful, the relationship could regress. Even though they were now bonded, it is very well known that the first few days after being mated were crucial.
“Florian...leave me alone, please.” she said. “I just need to be by myself.”
It hurt Florian to hear her like this. Crying, saddened. Was this why she didn’t talk to her family? “Jana, I’m sorry. Had I known...I wouldn’t-”
“Go away!” Jana yelled. “Just leave me alone!”
Florian looked at the door as if he could see Jana through it and he scowled as she ranted. “Don’t you have what you want now? Isn’t this it? Like every other Alpha, you want my body. You want control and nothing else!” she yelled. “Don’t care about anything. That’s all it ever was. It’s about some bullshit natural order! My life doesn’t belong to me and everything I was taught by them was for me to just find someone so my life would be easier. Ain’t shit easy!”
There was a long silence now. Jana sat on the floor for the bathroom, trying to dry her tears. They both stood on opposite sides of the door. Jana thought Florian had left. But she got close and still smelled him. There was no linger, just him. He waited on her. He was trying to give her the time she needed to calm down.
“Florian?” Jana called.
“I’m still here.” he said, softly. Jana scooted towards the door and leaned against the wall. She was going to speak when Florian spoke instead. “Is that why you were so reluctant before?”
“What?” she said.
“You said I was like any other Alpha. Is that why? Because, you had already been treated poorly, but not by someone you wanted, but your dad?” Florian asked.
Jana remained silent. Her sniffles served as a yes to Florian. He nodded and moved closer to the door. “Jana, you know I love you. Despite what we went through, all of that is behind us. I could never talk to you like your dad does. I can’t discard you. I won’t do that.” he said. Jana stayed silent as she listened to Florian. He sighed. “Open the door, babe.”
Jana hesitated slightly. Her Omega started to speak to her again. He could make her feel better. It was what he was supposed to do. Her bite mark itched as she reached to turn the knob of the bathroom door and pulled it open. Florian looked at her, her eyes red and puffy. He used one hand to cup her face.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like the others. I’m not like your dad.” he said. Jana pulled herself closer to him. “I’m sorry for what we had to go to through. You don’t have to worry about anything with me.”
Florian leaned in for a kiss. Jana didn’t pull away and actually returned the kiss. Florian pulled away and looked at her. “Let’s call it a night.”
Jana laid in bed, waiting on Florian to get out of the shower. Her phone sat on the nightstand, charging. She looked at it, the earlier conversation ringing in her head. She bit her lip, pulling at the sheets. She leaned over and held the lock button. Once the option appeared to turn off the phone, Jana slid the red button across the screen. She turned toward the door as Florian emerged.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” she said.
“Waiting on me?” Florian asked.
Jana fought not to chuckle. She nodded with a slight rock. Florian smirked and walked across to the closet. He reappeared in nothing, but basketball shorts and clearly with no underwear. There was no real reason for him to keep tempting you. His goal of getting you through your heat was achieved. He crossed the room and got in the bed.
Florian slid under the covers as he wrapped one arm around Jana’s shoulders and pulled her in. Her nose was in his chest and she was forced to smell him. But forced didn’t even seem like the correct term anymore. She was enjoying this. His scent was something she was relishing. Jana hummed as she draped an arm over him. Florian watch her settle into him. Almost rubbing herself against him. Florian reached for the remote and switched the bedroom lights off before pulling the blanket over them.
#a/b/o dynamics#florian munteanu#dark!florian munteanu#alpha!florian#florian munteanu x black reader#florian munteanu x you
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🎃 Frightful October Act IX, #26 ~ Howl (Yongguk Bang)
📑 Table of Contents
Genre: Supernatural, Romance, Fluff, Werewolf AU
Word Count: 2,484
Pairing: Reader x Yongguk
World: B.A.P
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When you were thirteen-years-old, your parents planned a camping trip as a last-ditch effort to save their failing marriage. They did their best to act like everything was all fine and dandy around you, but you weren’t stupid. You heard their hushed arguments when they thought you were sleeping. You noticed how your mom started going to work early and staying late so she didn’t have to be around her husband. You noticed the sadness in your dad’s eyes when he smiled at you.
You knew that everything was breaking apart around you, but there was nothing you could do, especially when they were adamant that everything was fine. It was beyond frustrating.
Your mother cleared her throat from the passenger seat, turning around to look at you. “Are you excited, Y/N? The Autumn trees are supposed to be gorgeous! It’s a full moon tonight, too, so there will be plenty of light.”
You knew how hard your parents were trying for your sake so you forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m hoping to get a lot of nice pictures,” you tapped the camera sitting on the seat beside you.
Your dad glanced in the rearview mirror before turning his gaze back to the road. “Let’s make some good memories this weekend.” You could hear the words he didn’t speak out loud, ‘Because this will probably be the last time we’re all together.’
The car got silent after that. You lent your head on the cool glass, watching as orange and brown streaked by the car.
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You pushed yourself up with a sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. You had been trying so hard to sleep, but the hushed arguing coming from your parent’s tent made it impossible. ‘I’m so tired of this. I just want a moment of peace.’
You slipped on your jacket, grabbed your camera and put on your boots before stepping out into the chilly night. You made no effort to be quiet, but your parents were too busy arguing to pay attention to the crunching of fallen leaves as you walked away from camp.
The full moon was high in the sky, illuminating the darkness around you. It was so large and looked so close, like you could reach out and touch it. Several trees were bare, their leaves scattered across the dirt below. Crickets were chirping in the distance, pausing their song only when there was a gust of wind. It was so peaceful, so beautiful. You easily got lost in the serenity of the nature that surrounded you, taking pictures of anything that caught your eye.
As the night slowly dragged on, the temperature started to drop, the cold wind penetrating your jacket and making your body shiver. You thought now would be a good time to return to camp, but you had no idea where you were or what direction was which. You pulled out your phone, but there was no signal and the cold was quickly draining the battery.
With a heavy sigh, you fell against a thick tree, one whose leaves were not affected by the cold, and you slid down to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest in a vain attempt to keep yourself warm.
The bushes rustled in front of you, followed by a deep growl.
Your body tensed up, eyes widening as a ginormous wolf stepped out of the bushes. It was easily larger than a great dane, it’s body full of muscle and thick fur the color of dark chocolate. Its eyes were a piercing gold, full of knowledge and age, and they were staring straight into your own.
You let out a shaky breath, trying your best to keep the fear from reaching your voice. “I-It’s okay, boy. I’m not here to hurt you. I… I got lost in the woods, I promise I mean you no harm.”
He regarded you curiously, tilting his head to the side as his ears flicked. He was sizing you up, determining if you posed a threat. He stepped forward, his large paws snapping branches as he moved closer. You were terrified of this creature, but something deep down told you that he wasn’t going to hurt you. He had a calming aura about him and you felt your body relaxing on its own. His large muzzle lowered to your hand, gripping the sleeve of your jacket between his sharp teeth before giving a tug.
Carefully, you brought yourself to your feet, not wanting to make any sudden movements. He started through the bushes, pausing to look back at you until you started to follow. Following a giant wolf through the middle of the woods in the middle of the night probably wasn’t your brightest achievement, but at the time, it felt like your only option for survival.
The wolf led you to a small clearing. On the left was a tall rock that towered above the earth before curving outward, providing the small indent with a roof. As you approached, five wolf heads lifted into the sky, their noses twitching as your scent reached them on the breeze. As the brown wolf started toward them, a sense of urgency overcame you.
‘I… have to take a picture of this,’ as fast as lightning, you lifted the viewfinder to your eye, snapping a picture of the wolves. All of them turned to stare at you, their golden eyes shining under the moonlight. You swallowed hard, unable to move. Would they take this as an act of aggression and attack?
The brown wolf huffed before turning around to get behind you, pushing his head against your back until you started to move toward the cave. Your heart hammered loudly in your chest and you wondered if they were planning on eating you.
The wolves, all brilliant shades of brown and black, started to shift until there was a bare spot on the ground. You glanced back at the brown would, who nodded. Moving slowly so as not to startle them, you stepped over long limbs and thick tails, and settled down onto the spot, the rock warm.
One by one, the wolves start to shift closer to you, their bodies like heaters as they pressed in on your body. The brown wolf settled down behind you, using his teeth to pull you backward by the jacket until you were lying against his large body. You turned onto your side and hesitantly reached a hand out toward his head. His golden eyes locked with your own, but his head didn’t shift from its perch on his large paws. Your fingers gently brushed through his fur. It was soft against your skin.
Your eyes started to grow heavy, breath evening out as sleep claimed you.
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Your parents found you the next morning with the help of the forest ranger service. You woke up alone in the cave, still surrounded by warmth. At first, the only thing you could think about was the pack of wolves that had shown you such kindness, mercy, and trust, but when you noticed your parents holding hands, that became your sole focus. That night, they had learned what was truly important to them – all of you being together and alive.
It was like their love had been revived.
They stopped fighting over everything and, even though it took some time, the wounds between them started to heal. For the first time in years, the three of you were a family again.
Four Years Later
You stifled a yawn as you exited the school. Even though it was the third week of October, it was sweltering outside. The sun was shining brightly against a clear, blue sky and you hated it. The heat made you tired and sweaty and you hated it.
An arm was slung around your shoulder, bringing you against a warm body, to which you groaned uncomfortably. “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.”
You met the dark eyes of your best friend, Jackson, who was pouting as you shoved his arm off of you. “S’hot,” you muttered.
“Why yes, I am hot, thanks for noticing~” he wiggled his eyebrows as you deadpanned. “The gang is going camping this weekend. Wanna come?”
The thought of being stuffed into a tent with another human being in this ungodly heat didn’t appeal to you in the slightest. “No thanks.”
“You’re no fun!” he stomped his foot dramatically and you just shrugged, walking away.
Your parents had gone on a month-long cruise to celebrate their anniversary, so you had the house to yourself. You stifled a yawn, throwing your bag on the bed and rifling through the dresser for some shorts and a tank top. At the very bottom of the drawer was a photograph, but you didn’t remember putting one in there. Curious, you pulled it out from under a pair of jeans that you haven’t worn in years and examined it.
‘It’s the picture of those wolves,’ your thumb lightly rubbed over the brown wolf. Only half of his body had been captured in the shot, but his eyes were staring directly at the camera as if he had expected you to take their picture. You missed him, and your heart suddenly started to ache with longing. ‘I wonder… are those wolves still in those woods? Would they remember me?’
Chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully, you pulled out your phone and texted Jackson, letting him know that you had changed your mind. After packing what you’d need for the three-day trip, you set the picture on top before zipping up the backpack.
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“Ow!”
You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jackson hopping on one foot while he held the other. His face was twisted in pain. Seojin rolled her eyes at his over-dramatics and continued to set up the bright orange tent. There were five of you spending the weekend camping – Jackson and his cousin Seojin, Max and Jun, and yourself. You had lucked out in getting a tent all to yourself. Originally, Yumi was supposed to be joining you, but her brother woke up sick and she couldn’t make it.
You felt bad for her because you knew how psyched she had been for the trip, but you were also thankful for not having to share a tent. You hadn’t come on the trip to have fun though. Your only goal was seeking out the wolves that had saved your life and your parent’s marriage all those years ago. You were yearning to see the brown wolf, so much so that you almost stomped off into the woods in the middle of the day. Of course, Jackson saw you and asked what you were doing. You didn’t want to be followed, so you forced yourself to wait.
Night finally fell, but Jackson was a night owl and it took him much longer than the others to finally go to sleep. With careful steps, you headed into the forest. It was hot as hell, even with the sun gone from the sky, and it wasn’t long before sweat started to roll down your face. You didn’t even know where you were going, you just let your feet carry you, hoping to see that beautiful wolf once more.
Crickets were chirping loudly, an owl hooting in the distance every few minutes.
You leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree, your breathing labored from the heat and the sheer lack of your athletic ability. ‘This is hopeless. There’s no way they’re still here.’
With a disappointed sigh, you turned to go back the way you came, only to realize that you were lost again. You trudged through the woods, muttering under your breath about how much of a bad idea this had been. You saw a break in the trees and headed for it, hoping it was camp. Your eyes widened as the rock formation came into view, but the small indent in the rock was empty. You slowly approached, lifting up the image of the wolves.
Your eyes slid closed as you tried to remember that day. You could feel their warmth, the softness of their fur, the coldness of their noses against your skin, and… the look that the brown wolf kept giving you. Even now, you didn’t know what emotion lingered in those eyes, but you remembered it well. You missed them so much.
“You seem sad.”
You whipped around, eyes locking with a man’s. He was tall and thin, but you could see his toned stomach when the wind kicked up his loose white shirt. A few strands of hair fell over his brown eyes, which bore into your own with a warmth you had never experienced before.
The man smiled softly as he approached, his long fingers grasping at the hand that tightly held the photograph. His eyes never strayed from yours and you swallowed hard, feeling your heart rate increase. This man held a familiar aura, but you were sure that you had never met him before.
He reached out his other hand, gently brushing away the hair that clung to your sweaty forehead. He leaned in, his plump lips brushing the shell of your ear as his warm breath fanned over your neck. “You’ve finally come home, my queen.”
Your knees turned to jelly at his husky voice and your body fell against his firm chest, his arms around your body. Behind him, five men stepped into the clearing from the tree line. They flickered in your mind between man and wolf and you rubbed at your eyes. He gently took hold of your chin, forcing your face up. Your cheeks burned as your eyes flickered to his lips, wanting nothing more than to feel them against yours.
‘What… is happening to me?’ you didn’t understand. Normally, if a man approached you in the forest in the dead of night, you would have kept your distance, yet here you were, pressing your body farther against his. Your body felt like it was on fire, your mind hazy. The feeling of his strong arms around your body, his scent of fresh earth after the rain, it was driving you crazy.
He chuckled, his sharp canine tugging at your bottom lip. You didn’t hesitate to close the distance, throwing your arms around his neck to bring him closer as your lips moved in synch. The five men jumped into the air, their bodies shifting to wolves as they did so. They ran around the two of you at full speed before stopping and howling at the moon.
His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You tugged at his hair, hearing a deep, guttural growl from within his chest before his canines sank into your flesh, easily breaking the skin as he branded you as his own. You gasped in pain and pleasure, nails digging into the back of his neck.
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#frightful october#halloween#bang yongguk#b.a.p#kpop#werewolf#writing#creative writing#writeblr#scenario#scenarios#kpop scenarios#fanfiction#fanfic#fanfics#reader insert#reader-insert#reader#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfics#kpop scenario#one shot#supernatural#romance#fluff#au#alternate universe#werewolf au#frightful october 19
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1. GOLDEN
Gemma was only five minutes away from her parents’ hut, but the jungle had already taken on a different personality. It was thicker. The trees had grown taller. The ti plants shaded the green forest a sinister red. There was no doubt about it- the jungle was more dangerous here, and Gemma loved it. As a baby, Gemma’s parents had taken her on their expeditions over mountains, deserts, and vast seas. It was exciting, unpredictable, and deeply irresponsible. Now that they had settled down in the tropical rainforest, Gemma had to devise intricate plans just to sneak out for morning adventures.
This particular plan hinged on the help of Milo, her ring-tailed lemur. Years of mischief, tom-foolery, and Gemma’s influence had helped Milo develop skills that other lemurs would give theirs rings to have themselves, were such a transaction to be made possible. And on this morning, Milo was lying in Gemma’s bed, wearing a wig made of straw, the same sandy blonde color as Gemma’s hair, snoring loudly. In a stroke of genius, they had even braided it into pigtails to match her style. They tried adding a pair of her old glasses but those kept sliding down his face, given that she had a human-sized head, and his was irreparably lemur-sized.
“I swear, her snoring is getting worse and worse,” said Gemma’s dad from the breakfast table, sipping on a warm tea.
Gemma’s mom raised an eyebrow from across her book.
“It doesn’t even sound human!” he continued.
“You’re exaggerating a little, don’t you think, dear?” Gemma’s mom said.
But he was not. And had either of them walked one room over to check on their daughter, they may have shouted, and woken up a little, groggy primate with straw pigtails.
A short walk away, Gemma brushed past a prickly bush and followed a small break in the twisted liana vines. She came to a wall of leaves and grew excited at the sound of movement ahead. She often felt like she could sense when adventure was near. In fact, she felt it almost every single day, and for the past year, she had been wrong roughly every single time. So, despite the eagerness to find something remarkable, her shock was genuine when she brushed the leaves aside. In a small clearing, no larger than a rock pond, was a black jaguar.
She bravely, confidently, froze.
As she rubbed the condensation from her glasses, Gemma spotted a small mammal underneath the jaguar’s paw. Further rubbing led to further clarity, and she recognized the animal as a golden mole. Both rare and beautiful. A fear rushed in that, if she didn’t act soon, the mole would be eaten or crushed under the jaguar’s leg.
“Oh, Bramblerot!” she whispered.
Half thinking, half not-at-all-thinking, Gemma reached into the brown satchel at her waist and found a small piece of suede. Wrapped tightly inside was her favorite brass bell. It was a dented, old gift from an even older grandma, and Gemma never left it behind when she ventured out. Normally, she reserved for it occasions that required making a lot of noise, but an emergency like this called for something much more risky.
Stepping forward stealthily, Gemma used her other hand to free a thin purple ribbon from her hair, turning her pigtails into a pigtail. She pressed the suede against the bell tightly to make sure that it didn’t attract any unwanted attention. A few paces ahead, and completely unaware of Gemma, the jaguar lifted his paw up for just a moment then pinned the mole down again. Gemma allowed herself a quick and disapproving scowl then focused on the task at hand. She opened the cloth and tied the ribbon around an opening in the brass bell. Then, with the delicacy of a snowflake on a silk napkin at afternoon tea with the Queen, Gemma tied the other end of the ribbon in another knot.
She slid backwards through the leaves and grabbed the closest suitable rock. As the jaguar leaned down with his teeth bared, Gemma tossed it towards the dense jungle to her left.
Without a moment to spare, the jaguar lifted his head, and whipped his body around.
And that’s when he heard a jingle. A strange, suspiciously close, jingle.
He whipped back the other way and heard the jingle again, but all he saw was jungle. He tried prowling around the clearing, looking for the source, but again saw only jungle. The jingles came faster, one after the other. The mole looked on in surprise as the frustration grew. Then, in the type of overreaction that jaguars are known for, he leapt into the deep brush next to him, looking for anything to attack.
Gemma immediately rushed in to grab the wounded golden mole and quickly hid behind the nearest tree. The jaguar ran back into the clearing and looked around with a vicious stare. As soon as he took another step, the bell, which Gemma had fastened securely to his tail, jingled again. Having lost his target, and plagued by the mysterious jingle, the jaguar picked a direction, almost at random, and charged deep into the dark tropical rainforest. When the jingles finally grew quiet, Gemma laid the golden mole down.
“Don’t worry. He’s gone,” she said, petting its head softly. “And he won’t be sneaking up on anyone for a while,” she added with a smile.
The mole wheezed out a tiny giggle then shook out its fur. It looked up at Gemma for a long moment, then scrunched its nose. Without a sound, it dug a hole in the soft earth and dove down.
Gemma watched in awe as it worked its way out of sight at impressive speed. She peered down to catch one last glimpse, but its little feet had disappeared in a flurry of dirt and dust. Gemma looked around. She had maybe ten minutes before her parents would try to wake her up and then find her missing. It was time to head back. Besides, she had found more than enough adventure for one day. Best for her to leave some for the other young explorers out there.
Carefully listening for the jingle of her favorite bell, Gemma weaved through the thick brush until it loosened and gave way to the path that she had personally made, stomp by stomp, over the better part of a year. She was almost to the hut when a small patch of dirt a few steps ahead of her started to move and shake. Approaching slowly, she leaned down and saw the furry face of the golden mole pop up to greet her. It scurried out of its hole and looked Gemma up and down. Gemma waved hello instinctively, as a matter of manners, and with no idea what else to do.
The mole reached into the dirt, pulling out an instrument that Gemma had seen many times before. It was a dark blue compass, set on a weathered chain. Gemma grabbed it with two curious hands, turning it over and around to inspect. The compass itself was older than her bell, she imagined, and built with much greater care. Then she reminded herself that her bell was now a jaguar accessory, and no longer hers at all. By the time she was done thinking, the mole had hopped back down its hole, leaving the compass behind. Gemma decided then and there that golden moles were strange creatures with strange habits. It’s worth noting, however, that this was an unfair generalization and would only serve her poorly.
Later that day, Gemma sat at the kitchen table and watched her parents rush around the hut.
The compass was hanging around her neck, unnoticed. She had never seen them so animated as they gathered their belongings and shouted out questions and commands to each other. It was on this day that they had revealed they’d be going away on a trip of indeterminate length. Without her. Milo looked up at Gemma and cocked his head to the side. She patted her shoulder, the signal that it was okay for him to climb up and sit. Deftly, he swung up her torso and rested. Most times he would wrap only his tail around her neck, but today was different. He hugged her whole head with every limb he had.
“Gemma,” said her Mom. “Come and take a walk with me to the waterfall. I have something to tell you.”
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The Gift of Family (A Fic)
Written for ShikaTema Shrine’s Secret Santa event. Surprise @ostaranight, I’m your secret santa!🙈I sincerely hope you like it!
[Summary: After a close shave with death, Temari urged her brothers not to travel to Konoha for Christmas]
It was half past five in the evening of Christmas eve, and Gaara was still tucked away in his office.
Work had piled up after he took a few days off to recuperate from the injuries he received when he fought Urashiki Otsutsuki. Unsurprisingly, stacks of paperwork and other issues related to his village awaited him, ones he began to tackle immediately after he was discharged from the hospital.
For the next few hours, Gaara saw nothing but letter after letter of stringed words which eventually began to mesh together into blurs of ink; heard nothing but scribbles on paper and the rhythm of his own heart as it beat to the seconds of the clock; and felt nothing but the ache of his fingers after long hours of stamping and signing his own name on sheet after sheet of official papers. He spared no time for breaks, but continuously plowed through his work with determined focus. So when he finally lifted his head hours later, he was surprised at the orange tint reflected in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon.
He rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he watched the colors of dusk eventually fade away, replaced by darkness illuminated only by a few twinkling stars. The beautiful night sky above Suna served as his only reminder that Christmas Day was the day after; his office was void of colorful lights and banners, not a single hint of the upcoming holiday aside from the date he encircled on his calender.
He stared at it now, realizing that he and his brother would’ve been on the last train to Konoha at that very moment had they not been critically injured and hospitalized. Instead, Temari specifically phoned to tell them not to bother with the trip and scolded them when they insisted to go. Christmas was one of the few times a year they get to see each other, and Gaara felt a slight pang in his chest when he realized he won’t be with his family as they greet the new year.
He glanced at the paperwork on his desk again. Compared to a few hours ago, they were now neatly stacked in piles according to their respective section and category.
Gaara exhaled deeply. He was beginning to regret his eagerness to finish work, realizing that he no longer had any plans for the holidays other than to spend time with his brother at their undecorated home.
Although he was always glad to have Kankuro for company, he couldn’t hell but feel that Christmas will be a bit lonely that year.
His train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door. He swiveled his chair just as Kankuro’s hooded figure appeared behind the doorway.
Kankuro raised an eyebrow at Gaara’s tired eyes and pale complexion. He looked like he aged twenty years since he last saw him.
“Jesus, Gaara. Have you been cooped up in here all day?”
Gaara craned his aching neck. “I thought I should get a bit of work done before the holidays.”
Kankuro shook his head. “You just got out of the hospital, little brother. Don’t push yourself so hard.” He eyed his desk. “And judging from this, you did more than just a bit.”
“I suppose I got carried away.” Gaara shuffled to his feet, stretching his arms over his head while swallowing a yawn. “Shall we head home?”
Kankuro shot him a strange look, but nodded his head. “I came here to pick you up...and stop you from overworking, but I guess I’m a little too late for that.”
He fell silent when they left the office, much to Gaara’s surprise and confusion. He’d known his brother all his life and not once was he able to keep his mouth shut, not even when Gaara threatened his life during his rebellious age.
When they left the warmth of the Kazekage building and stepped into the dark street, Kankuro didn’t wince from the chilly breeze. Instead, his face crumpled as if he was deep in thought. And when a frown began to form on his lips, Gaara‘s curiosity finally reached its peak.
He placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, brother?”
Kankuro startled. He looked around in a daze, unsure of where he was at first, and then focused his gaze on Gaara.
“How? What—?”
“You were spacing out the entire time,” he explained kindly.
“Oh.” Kankuro jammed his hands into his pockets and lowered his eyes. “Sorry about that. I was just thinking of Temari and how much it sucks not to visit her this year. I already prepared an awesome gift for her and Shikadai! I even put a bit of thought into Nara’s gift. All that, plus my generous heart, wasted.”
Gaara nodded. “I understand. I’m disappointed as well. But we can visit them for New Year’s and give them our gifts then.”
“No, no. That’s not what I mean,” Kankuro groaned loudly and looked up at the sky as if to ask for guidance. “How do I say this? We visit them on Christmas every year. Every year. But we couldn’t this once and suddenly you’re overworking yourself. Do you get what I’m saying?
Gaara‘s hand fell limply to his side. “You mean—“
“I mean we should’ve jumped on that train and went anyway, even if Temari bites our heads off when we get there.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Gaara said quietly. “She would’ve been difficult, but happy to have us there.”
“Exactly.”
Silent fell on them once again, as they continued to trudge towards their home, each occupied in their own thoughts. They fully expected to return to a dark and empty house, eat takeout food before opening their presents, and then go to bed. What they least expect was to find their humble abode blazing in light, as if whoever it was turned on every single switch in the house.
Gaara and Kankuro turned to each other, wide-eyed. Their first reaction was to reach for their shurikens, suspecting an enemy attack before dismissing the idea. Because what kind of idiot would announce their presence so obviously to the two most powerful ninja in the village?
Only Naruto, Kankuro would say.
They quietly crept closer to the entrance, tried to peek in once or twice from the window only to find their view blocked by thick curtains, and crouched down in front of the door.
At Gaara’s signal, Kankuro kicked the door open and was ready to unleash his puppets on whoever was stupid enough to trespass on their property when—
“Merry Christmas!” —their jaws dropped.
Wearing the biggest smile on her face, Temari met them at the front door.
“What took you so long?” She scolded them playfully. While her brothers were still staring at her blankly, she grabbed their wrists and pulled them towards the living room.
“Wha—How?” For the second time that night, Kankuro struggled to find words. “This is a dream, yeah. Temari’s a hallucination. Some other bastard trespassed and put us in a genjutsu.”
“I agree,” Gaara replied weakly, eyes still fixed on his big sister.
Temari scowled, then pinched their cheeks hard. “Who’re you calling a bastard?!”
“Ow owwww!” Kankuro rubbed his aching cheek as reality finally sunk in. It’s really you, Tem? What’re you doing here?”
Temari put her hands to her hips and arched an eyebrow. “To celebrate Christmas with my brothers, of course. Unless you don’t want me here.”
“It’s not like that, Temari.” Snapping out of his initial shock, Gaara spoke up quietly, “We’re happy to see you, but what about Shikamaru and Shikadai?”
“You called?” From the kitchen connecting the living room, Shikadai nonchalantly strolled towards them, game console in one hand and a half-eaten pie in another.
“Greet your uncles properly, Shikadai! And I told you not to eat until they arrive!” Temari turned her back to scold her son. Both brothers inwardly breathe a sigh of relief when her intense eyes were no longer on them.
Shikadai shrugged. “What a drag. They’re here now, and I’m hungry from decorating the house all day!”
What?
Gaara and Kankuro belatedly noticed the major change in their otherwise plain living room. Streams of light hung against the walls, overshadowed by the colorful banners and garlands adorning the chimney. Finally, a tall cactus stood in the center of the living room, with Christmas ornaments hanging from its sharp needles. A pile of wrapped presents sat underneath the Sunan version of a Christmas tree.
Gaara and Kankuro marveled at the sight. It had been too long since they’d seen their home so full of holiday spirit.
Gaara barely recognized the Christmas socks he bought and small Christmas puppets Kankuro built a decade ago. In the last few years, they found no need for decorations since they made it a routine to celebrate the holiday in Konoha with their sister and her family. Temari and Shikadai must’ve spent a long time searching the attic to retrieve those.
“I can’t believe you did all this!” Kankuro‘s eyes lit up in glee. “This is awesome! I can’t even recognize our living room! Can you remember the last time it looked like this, Gaara?”
“Not at all. It’s certainly an enthralling view.” Gaara allowed himself relax for a mere second, before another concerning question popped into his head.
“But does Shikamaru know you’re here?”
Shikadai shot him a strange look before answering, “Dad will be here tomorrow. He’s trying to get work done before leaving.”
“But we could’ve gone instead and save Shikamaru some time—“
“Gaara.” Temari placed a firm hand on his shoulder and looked at him pointedly. “We wanted to.”
“Mom had us riding on the first train to Suna, so that we can celebrate together. But when we’d arrived you weren’t home, so I decorated the living room while mom prepared the food.”
“But you could’ve told us—“
“Gaara,” Temari said a bit louder. “I wanted to make an effort to spend time with my brothers, so stop worrying about every little thing and just be happy we’re here, okay?” She flashed him a smile, the smile reserved for only her most beloved.
He felt a pat on his back and looked up to his brother, who’d sent him the toothiest smile he had ever seen. When was the last time he saw Kankuro this excited, this happy?
A smile began to form on his face. Amidst the warm and cheerful interior plus his dear siblings and nephew, it had never truly felt like home until that moment.
“They’re right.” He chuckled as they stared back at him in confusion. “It is indeed a merry Christmas.”
Because Christmas truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
The End.
——————
A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!🤗 I hope you liked this, Bridge. As always, thank you all so much for reading! <3
#sand siblings#Sabaku No Gaara#Gaara of the Sand#gaara#Sabaku No Temari#Sabaku No Kankuro#nara shikadai#I am a rusty mess but I hope it’s still ok huhu
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Us Against The World
Chapter One: The New Girl
Summary: Alyssa Williams meets Billy Hargrove, the stereotypical bad guy and arsehole of Hawkins High but instead of stiring away, something about him draws her to him and him to her. They are contrasting in every way but find a way to fight together perfectly.
3.7k words
A/N: Horrible summary but I hope you enjoy and sorry for any mistakes. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated 😊
DISCLAIMER: Imma put it bluntly...I don't care if you hate the fanfiction because you believe Billy is a racist. Either way, this is a different representation of the character as is most romantic fanfictions about him. Also if you're going to criticise me while reading Billy x Steve fics or tbh any Billy x anyone fanfiction...please reevaluate because either way, you're reading material that doesn't conform to how Billy on the show acts. You can also keep in mind that people grow and it may surprise some of you that not all racists...stay racists. Some get educated and change. I don't condone the violent actions of his character all of this is a different representation of the Billy in the show. Good day :)
DO NOT REPOST MY WORK!
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Without removing the cover from her head, Alyssa smashed her fist down on the alarm clock, silencing it and letting out a triumphant grunt. Immediately after, she was ready to go back to sleep not wanting to deal with the challenges of the day; however, her father, as usual, was not giving her that chance to avoid school. “Before you think about going back to sleep, I suggest you get yourself out of that bed.” He strolled in with no care in the world and pulled back the curtains allowing light to flow in. Alyssa let out a frustrated and annoyed groan, fully burying herself in her covers and pillows to hide from the light as well as her father.
“Dad, please, can I just stay home?” Her voice sounded rough from just waking up. “I promise, I’ll do some school work, just don’t make me go.” Her voice sounded whinier than she cared to admit and without seeing her dad’s reaction she knew he probably had his hands on his hips and was shaking his head in disapproval. It was to be her first day at Hawkins High after moving to the city a few days ago; she’d been dreading the thought of starting at a new school and had begged her father to change his mind and let her be homeschooled but came to no avail.
Alyssa felt the edge of the bed dip on the opposite side and then decided to sit up, removing the covers; knowing her father was going to begin his grand speech about how starting at the new school would be a good change and a chance for her to make friends. “Listen, Pumpkin, I know how much you’ve been stressing about this and I know what I’m asking you isn’t easy,” Alyssa lifted her knees and rested her head on them as he spoke. “But please try and just socialise with the other kids. I know it’s been tough since-” Alyssa raised her hand as a signal to stop him.
“I know, dad. It’s just what if there is a repeat of last time? What if the other kids don’t like me?” Her voice was small and filled with sadness. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, despite trying to fight them off. Her dad sighed and pulled her into a hug, holding her tight and stroking her hair; without being able to stop it, tears flowed down her face and she couldn’t help but sob into her father’s shoulders.
After a few moments, she calmed down and her father looked at her with reassuring eyes. “Hey, if those kids don’t like you, it’s on them because they are missing out on befriending a cool girl like you,” He wiped away her tears and she couldn’t help but smile. “It doesn’t matter if they like you or not. What matters is that you stay true to yourself and don’t lose yourself trying to please other people,” He gave her a serious look, placing a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll try to engage with others and you won’t lose yourself for any of those people.”
“I promise,” Sniffling a bit then nodding. “I’ll be myself and…I’ll try and make friends.” She hesitated on the last part but couldn’t help it. She knew that her dad wouldn’t go easy on her if she didn’t make that promise. Promises in the Williams’ house were sacred and had to be kept which Alyssa had apparently made law when she was five years old.
With that, he gave her a satisfied grin. “Breakfast will be ready.” He got up from the bed and made his way to the door. “Start getting your stuff together, then.” and with that, he left the room. Alyssa plopped back down on her bed, looking at the ceiling while the urge to scream began growing inside her. She knew the week to come would most likely suck and she hated the fact that there was no way to avoid it.
The drive to the school was short. The whole ride, Alyssa could feel her stomach sinking like she was on some rollercoaster that she desperately wanted to get off of. Her hands began to feel sweaty and warm. When they arrived, she looked at the students piling into the school. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she turned to her dad. “I’ll see you later then, love you.” It was quick short and without emotion. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, before making her way out of the car. Her father repeated the words before waving goodbye and speeding off.
The smell of sweat, rubbish canteen food and cheap cologne filled the halls of Hawkins High School. The corridors were overtaken by students either chatting or making their way to their assigned classrooms. Alyssa rushed through the crowd, brushing past people as she tried to navigate through the sea of bodies. She muttered a sorry, here and there to those she bumped into and received glares in return by some. So far so good, she thought sarcastically to herself.
Alyssa had made it to her classroom in record time, considering that she got lost a few times and had to ask people for help. Though she was sure classes started at eight, the classroom barely had any students occupying the seats. The teacher looked unimpressed as he sat down looking around at the scene that he must have come accustomed to. Alyssa walked up to his desk, feeling a little uneasy as the eyes of the students were glued to her. “Erm, hi.” She sounded awkward and unsure
“Can I help you?” He looked at her with dead eyes that were emphasised by the eyebags under them. He had a thick beard, that looked slightly unkempt, and shaggy brown hair that looked slightly greasy and untouched in a while. He tapped his pencil on the desk and rested his hand underneath his chin, as he waited for her to answer.
Alyssa couldn’t deny the annoyance that coursed through her at his tone and posture. She kept a smile on her face, though, like she practised many times. “I’m new here so I just wanted to-” She was cut off when he slammed the book down in front of her. Blinking a few times, she looked down at the book then back at him as he began to speak.
“This booklet has everything you need to know about what we have covered so far,” he leaned back in his chair and looked over at the door as the late students began to pile in. “If you need help, ask someone in the class and you’re seated front row at the window” He nodded his head in the direction of the seat, as he got up from his seat and got ready to begin his lesson. Alyssa grabbed the booklet feeling annoyed but not daring to say anything as she quickly took her seat.
Math wasn’t her strongest subject and she struggled to actually focus on the lesson as she kept looking outside daydreaming about what she wanted to eat later and whether or not her father would be home to have dinner with. Ever since he had been promoted from his job, he spent less time with her and though she tried her best not to show it, she really wished he’d settle for a nine to five job knowing full well that her father’s dream as a doctor had existed longer than ger.
As she began getting lost deeper and deeper into her thoughts, the roar of a car engine stole her attention. The car was electric blue and what looked to be some kind of Camaro; Alyssa sat there with both hands on her chin taking interest in the scene outside over the algebra equations Mr Mundy had been throwing at the class. The longer she watched, she saw the driver emerge from the car; the guy had blonde loosely curled hair that was longer at the back than the front, thick eyebrows and overall attractive features from what Alyssa could see.
“Alyssa!” she jumped at the sound of her name and quickly whipped her head around, Mr Mundy looking displeased. He had one hand on his hip and the chalk in his hand was pointing towards her. “For someone who is struggling in math, you seem to be talking quite the interest at the ongoings outside.” Heat rose to her cheeks as those around her snickered and she felt herself sink slightly in her chair. Mr Munday was about to continue before the bell rang and Alyssa let out a little sigh of relief.
Quickly heading for the girl’s toilets, she pushed past everyone not caring about their reactions. The door hit the wall when she pushed it open, she immediately closed her eyes and calmed herself down before any tears could escape. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her chestnut eyes were slightly red as they were readying the tears, her curly afro was a cloud around her head as her bangs cover her forehead. “Hey.” A soft voice spoke to her and she turned to find a girl with short brown hair in slight waves holding her books to her chest and giving her a sad look. Alyssa felt like she recognised her from somewhere but she couldn’t think where.
“Don’t let what Mr Mundy and the rest of those arseholes get you down,” That’s when she realised that she probably recognised her from her math class. “He’s just bitter that his wife cheated on him and the other students are just…arseholes, for lack of a better word.” Alyssa gave her a small smile picking at the edges on the grey jumper she had on. The girl stepped forward to extend her arm. “I’m Nancy Wheeler.” Alyssa accepted the handshake.
Alyssa found herself to be taller than Nancy by a few inches. “I’m Alyssa Williams.” They both stood there in a while of awkward silence for a minute, not really knowing what to say next to one another. Alyssa was tempted to exchange goodbyes and leave but then Nancy spoke up.
“So I’ve got science in a few minutes and lunch after,” Nancy began. She had a hopeful look on her face. “When is your next free period? We could meet up and chat. I could also show you around the school.” Nancy shrugged. Alyssa could almost hear her dad nagging her to say yes so she nodded with slight eagerness. Nancy looked relieved and they both exited the girl’s toilets.
“I’ve got literature now so we could meet in the canteen after?” Alyssa suggested. They both parted ways agreeing to meet at lunch and Alyssa felt proud of herself. It had been a couple of years since she dared to make friends and talk to people. When she strolled into her literature lesson, she had a smile on her face.
For that lesson, she was met with a much kinder teacher than Mr Mundy had been. Alyssa took a seat at the back of the class. She couldn’t help but feel in a better mood knowing that she had befriended Nancy; It had been too long since she had been very social. Less than ten minutes into the lesson, the classroom door swung open to a tall figure. The whole class automatically looking at the door to the face the intruder; Alyssa was quick to realise that it was the same guy she had saw during her math lesson.
The teacher, Ms Peterson, looked unamused but not surprised either so Alyssa assumed it was a regular occurrence. “Nice for you to join us, Mr Hargrove.” She greeted him with sarcasm evident in her voice and the reply she received was a disinterested grunt as the boy made his way to the back of the classroom setting to the right of Alyssa. When Alyssa turned to have a better look at him, she found that he was already studying her so she immediately faced the book in front of her feeling slightly embarrassed.
Throughout the whole lesson, she could feel his gaze on her but she avoided looking at him, happy that her hair covered most of her face and hit her nervousness. When the bell rang, she let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “Before you all leave, there’s a group assignment on Shakespeares that I want completing by next week.” She was met with groans. “You can choose your own partners if that makes you happier. That’ll be all.” And they all piled out of the classroom; Alyssa feeling too shy to ask anyone to be there partner.
Heading straight for her locker, she couldn’t help but think about that guy from her lesson and whether he was watching her or her paranoia was playing tricks on her. She couldn’t deny that she felt flustered at the thought of him watching, after all, she found him extremely attractive. As she was thinking about him, a small smile was turning the corners of her mouth. “What’s got you so happy?” The voice startled her and she jumped, whipping her whole body around to see who spoke. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” His apology didn’t seem so sincere with the grin on his face
“It’s fine.” Was all she could say when she finally settled down from her fright. They both stood there staring at each other for a minute, while the other students around them were staring at the Hawkins bad boy engaging with the new girl but neither noticed them. Instead, she was staring into his ocean blue eyes as he was staring right back into her hazel ones; after a while, she realised what she was doing and then diverted her gaze. “Did you want something?” Her voice caught him out of his daze and he blinked a few times looking away. She thought she saw a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks and heard him curse himself under his breath.
He leaned against the lockers and tilted his eyes to look at her. “I was thinking we should be partners for that literature assignment,” It didn’t sound much like he was asking her. “Seeing as either of us has a partner.” He shrugged. Alyssa couldn’t deny that she was surprised, out of everyone in that lesson he was asking her, She immediately became suspicious of him. Her eyebrows furrowed and shit bit her lip, thinking about all the reasons he came to ask her about it; she’d noticed his eyes had moved to her lips while she did that.
“Is this going to be a one-sided partnership where I do all the work?” Raising her brows while questioning. A smile played on her lips as he fawned being offended. “What? You ask, out of everybody in our class, me to be partners with and expect me not to be suspicious?” Though she was being serious there was a playfulness in her tone and he laughed a bit, smile lines forming at the corners of his eyes. She couldn’t help but chuckle, his smile and laugh were a bit contagious.
Those around them looked shocked by the interaction between the two. Probably never once seeing Billy interact with a girl like Alyssa before; he placed his left hand on the locker beside Alyssa and leaned in close enough for her to smell and feel the cigarettes and the mint from his breath. In a pathetic attempt at a shield, she raised her books to her chest and tried leaning back at bit though she was met with the cold surface of the locker. “From what I’ve seen of you today, you’re the smartest girl in class,” Then she started noticing the people watching. “And I need some help in the subject so how about it, doll?” Her heart raced at the nickname.
With a chuckle, she playfully shoved him away from her as she contemplated her answer for a few moments. “Sure.” He looked surprised by her answer, almost as surprised as her. She had no clue what was coming over her but she felt something in her gut telling her to agree to it though her head was screaming at her. “As long as you take part and don’t lounge about, we have a deal.” She straightened herself and presented him with her hand to shake. Smiling, he accepted.
After exchanging contact details, Alyssa was getting ready to leave, remembering that she told Nancy she would meet her at lunch. Before she could go, he grabbed her arm gently, sending a jolt straight through the both of them and he pulled his arm back like he’d been electrocuted. Clearing his throat, he looked bashful. “There’s a Halloween party tonight,” he began. Alyssa could help but notice a bit of his confidence gone as he scratched the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”
Before she could think to reply, an unfamiliar voice came from behind her. “Leave her alone, Hargrove.” The guy the voice belonged to had thick brown hair, an average build and displeasure written all over his face. Beside him was Nancy who had her arms folded while giving Billy a stern look. Alyssa looked back and forth between them all, confused by the sudden tension in the air.
Billy’s demeanour changed from the nice guy he was being only moments prior and he snarled at the other guy looking ready for a fight. “What’s it to you, Harrington?” They were getting into each other’s faces, daring the other to make the first move and Alyssa stood there baffled as it had all escalated in a matter of seconds. The two guys gave each other such intense glares that if looks could kill, they’d both probably drop dead but before anything could happen, Nancy stepped in between them.
“Steve leave it and let’s just go,” she placed her hand on his chest but he didn’t move his eyes for Billy’s. “Please,” she stressed. Clearly, Nancy didn’t want a fight to break out, just as much as Alyssa didn’t. Reluctantly, Steve backed down and began walking away with a huff; Nancy then turned to Alyssa signalling her to come along to. “Let’s go.” She grabbed Alyssa’s hand as they walked away. Not before Alyssa took a quick glance back at the gorgeous blonde. He just gave her a wink and then turned to leave as well.
Once they got to the lunch hall, Nancy grabbed Alyssa’s shoulders looking at her with concern “What the hell was that all about?” Her voice sounded shaken with worry and anger; Alyssa was confused as to why she was being so overactive, considering the fact that she had only been talking to Billy and nothing major was happening. Steve was even giving her a glare, not necessarily targeted towards her but towards the thought of what Billy had been up to.
Looking at Nancy, Alyssa spoke. “He was just asking me to be his partner for our Literature assignment” Alyssa shrugged and frowned. “What’s the big issue, anyway? you guys are making such a big deal out of this.” Looking between Nancy and Steve as they exchanged glances with each other, Alyssa stared at them urging them to answer her. Besides the fact that he was a huge flirt, Billy didn’t seem that threatening towards her so couldn’t understand the tension.
Steve sighed. “Listen, that Hargrove guy isn’t someone you want to be around,” he gave her a soft expression, continuing. “My name is Steve, by the way, wish we could’ve met under better circumstances,” He outstretched his hand for her to shake and she accepted it. “Hargrove is an arsehole and the only reason he was speaking to you was to get into your pants or something. The guy has anger issues and an ego bigger than his future, so I suggest staying away.” While he said it with a joking tone, there was still a seriousness to his voice and the way his brow twitched when talking about Billy, proved that he was holding back insulting comments.
Alyssa just nodded, not really knowing what to say. She knew that she probably should head her friend’s warning but there was something about Billy that got under her skin and not in a bad way. It felt like an invisible force drawing them in together and she just wanted to get to know him. All of him. Not in the way that most people would interpret, though.
After, they all sat down to enjoy their lunch while asking questions about Alyssa and vice versa. They all seemed genuinely interested in the fact that she wanted to become a doctor in the future and enjoyed hearing her tell stories about her life back at home in England. “Hey, maybe we should take Alyssa to Tina’s party as a celebration of her arrival,” He asked Nancy and then turned to her. “What do you think? Would you dad be alright with that or do we have to sneak you out?” He had a mischievous grin on his face.
“No, he’ll be fine with it. Most likely excited that I’m going out a being a teenager and stuff,” Though she didn’t say it out loud, she wanted to also see Billy again but she kept that to herself knowing that it wouldn’t garner a positive response if she said that. “Though, I don’t really have much to wear.” She stated. Never have gone to a party before, she didn’t have many clothes in her closet that screamed “I’m here to party” and Alyssa wasn’t keen on getting bullied for her choice of clothing.
“How about I come to your house and help you pick something out? I’ll bring some of my own clothes just in case.” Nancy suggested and they all agreed on the plan and with Steve picking them up from Alyssa’s house. The bell rang and they all parted ways with farewells; Alyssa’s mind couldn’t help but stray towards Billy and even though her friends told her to stay away, her heart was telling her otherwise.
Tag list: @charmed-asylum
#billy hargove#billy hargrove x oc#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x black!oc#billy hargrove x black!reader#Billy hagrove fanfic#stranger things fanfic
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ICY - Chat Blanc Fic
The Lonely Boy Gets His Heart Rekt
How would Chat Blanc play out if Adrien never went to public school and his dad was more of an a-hole than he is now?
Aged up AU
All the glaciers in the world could melt right now but they won’t be able to drown out all the destruction and sorrow by a little white cat on a rooftop. It can destroy the beach houses his father owned on the foreign coasts or flood the swimming pools a golden model once filled and refilled with his tears during the lonely summer days. Days spent out tanning in the sun with the only sound to accompany him being the ripples in the water that splosh against the pool’s titles.
The glamorous life truly was a boring one.
Adrien would push up his sunglasses a little higher before staring at the sun for a little bit longer. The view from his yard would be amazing if it wasn’t for the great wall dividing him from the outside. Debating that the view from his closed-off room was better than this. Even with locked windows, his room looked over the wall and out to the city. Adrien Agreste still got to see Paris without that ugly, bland, beige brick wall.
The backyard wasn’t any worse, don’t get me wrong.
There were gardens, a pool, a rose nursery, and stone paths that seem to be taken from a silver screen. However, the backyard felt like a cluttered mess even if there were gardeners watching and caring for it 24/7. The tall walls of vegetation seem to be climbing out of the house to be free. To break out but it never grew long enough to escape since the landscapers would always come around and trim it before it reached the edge.
Sighing in frustration before Adrien decided that it wasn’t even worth being outside. Annoyed by the unnatural stillness of his backyard and the booming melody from the Bluetooth speaker. His sandals shuffled around the smooth concrete before stepping inside. Throwing back his dry towel without really diving into the pool.
The glamorous life truly was a pointless one.
-----
His hands stayed cold before getting burned by the hot teacup in front of him. Chamomile with no sugar, but with large gloops of honey at the bottom. Just the way he liked his morning tea.
Letting the thick, golden nectar dissolve with a twirl of his silver spoon. Slouching over his teacup before getting a cough from the other side of the table and over the platters of food. Signaling Adrien to straighten his back.
Not even saying good morning.
How fatherly of him and still so on-brand.
His fencing competition wouldn’t start for another hour or two, but he was ready to jump in the car and leave. Or just leave really.
Stabbing the last of his eggs with his fork and sipping the rest of his fresh-squeezed orange juice from his glass.
“I’ll be out. Practice some more before the competition.“ Adrien announced, keeping it short. Pushing his chair back without hearing what his father thought or even hearing Nathalie tap on her tablet to check if Adrien fit in the schedule.
The end of the sentence gave him a bitter taste and it wasn’t because of the peppers on his eggs.
Rushing across the marble floor, only to catch the clicks of heels after him.
Nathalie tapped her tablet again before catching up with the young adult.
“Don’t forget to get back on time, you have a couple of meetings with the company’s marketing team about the new collection coming up and-.”
“-I have to check some paperwork for my branch and then get ready for dinner with the Bourgeois. Right, Nathalie?”
“Just be on schedule, Adrien.”
“Have a great day too, Nathalie. Don’t let my father overwork you again.” Adrien huffed, giving a slight smile. Tugging his gym bag over his shoulders before stepping in front of the mansion’s grand doors. There Gorilla pulled back the door handle, letting the young man slip out. Stepping quickly down the stairs before his driver could open the door to the white limousine.
——-
Adrien Agreste was many things, but he wouldn’t say he’s a liar. He was a part-time hero and part-time public figure, already having so many eyes on him. So it’s only natural to have to spit out words in some cases to get out of sticky situations but he never would think of it as lying. Like the things he was telling his bodyguard right now, that wasn’t really a lie- No it was more like an ‘excuse’.
Advising Gorilla to drop him off by the gym and to come back when the competition ended. He prefers to be alone when he’s practicing.
Really, he did.
However, he didn’t add that he was going to sneak off and talk to a girl after he throws his bag in a sweaty gym locker.
This wasn’t really a lie, but an incomplete truth.
Adrien Agreste was going to practice before his competition. Preferably when Kagami came around and after seeing the dark-haired girl behind the bakery counter. The only cashier in the whole world that seems to remember the customer’s name and order just by having them once. Yet, Adrien picked his fingernails in anxiousness, fearing that she wouldn’t remember him or look at him weird when he would ask about her day.
God, hopefully, that didn’t happen.
———
Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and he had a date with her this weekend.
Agreeing to meet up after her shift at the bakery.
She’s the daughter of the owners and she smelled like what happiness would if it could be captured and made into a candle. She smiled and meant it. All as her eyes did this cute thing where they seem to glitter in the sunlight or just whenever she laughed. She’s short and only reached up to his shoulders, but she stood tall like the shining light-posts at night as she twirled and looped around busy people in the streets.
Her hands were always stained with frosting, mostly bright pink since that stained the most. So she tells him. Her lips were a coral color while her hair was tied with red ribbons and bands. Her color palette was warm and soft like her.
The bakers’ daughter, his date to the movies this weekend.
_____
Ladybug rocked on her heels the last time in the last twenty minutes.
“Chat, have you ever obsessed over something?”
“Why do you ask M’Lady?” Chat Noir asked. Not looking away from his view of the city. Waiting to say a punny-remark before catching the red heroine’s sigh. Sounding more aggressive than she meant it to be.
“Stuff, I guess.” She mumbled, planting herself next to the cat. Earning herself a concern expression before Chat Noir turned himself over.
“Stuff?”
“Stuff.” LB nodded. Her hand pulled up her legs, crossing them under her weight. Pulling back her bangs as her bluebell eyes stared out to the city.
“Stuff.” She sighed again, letting her fatigue show as she continued. If she had eye-bags, the mask covered them. Yet, it was the way her eyebrows touched and got stiff- that told him that she had been debating this for a while or been overthinking something that could easily be solved in minutes - or maybe over some painful hours.
“I’m only telling you this since you’re my best friend.”
“And you for me, M’Lady.”
“I’m telling you the biggest secret ever. You have to promise that you don’t speak about it to anyone.” Ladybug hushed, moving closer to the cat. Her voice utters a sense of fear and demanded seriousness. However, her body language betrayed her as she kicked up her feet like a small child would.
“I promise.”
“You really have to promise me.”
“I-”
“You have to swear on your miraculous to never tell another soul.”
-----
It was her. It was always her.
He knew she looked familiar, however, he brushed it off with the practical and reasonable reason why he recognized her as if it was dirt on his shoulder rather than a clue to an enigma. The same puzzle that has been haunting him since he earned the title of the Wielder of Destruction.
Telling himself it’s because he has been sneaking off to that bakery a lot lately or because she graduated from the school he had fencing practice at. Not because he sees that same shape every patrol when he jumps over rooftops. Convincing himself that the hand that hands him his coffee can’t be the one that opens up to reassure him that there’s a plan to take the Akuma down. The girl that works bakery, the same one that draws little heart on his cup, can’t be the hero in red and black. However, they seem to blend together as one person, the more his mind chewed on this information.
For God’s sake, she had pigtails!!
Now, what was once a trivial thought played out as an unexpected reality. There on the cold ground was Ladybug. Groaning in pain as she lifts herself up. Her magical suit disappearing in a flash of pink and red to show the bakers’ daughter. Her padding and combat boots were gone and replaced with the sundress she designed after finding a whole store full of them when they went out last week.
Her bangs stuck to the hot sweat on her face. Running her hands through it before wincing. Blood painted the tips of her fingers as she slowly pieced herself together. Her eyes widen when she realized what happened. Ready to go out into a sprint.
“Chat!” she cried, her eyes getting red as she couldn’t find him. The fabric around her waist twirled around as she whipped her head. Ready to scream again before the glimmer of blond hair caught her eye.
“Chat. . . .”
Adrien tried to get his eyes to focus on her. Watching her face blur before she ran over to him. His transformation was gone, but his hair kept its messiness as his left eye stung. It’s probably throbbing red with patches of purple. Adrien couldn’t see himself, but telling from the pain, it felt like something gruesome and raw.
“M’Lady. . .”
Even when one good eye, Adrien could see Marinette’s reaction. How her face dropped and paled. Pulling him near before hushing sweet nothings to comfort him.
“My god. . . oh, Adrien. It’s okay. We’ll get out of here! We have to! I think I know where- there’s a shortcut to Master and he’ll-”
“It’s you.”
Marinette shut her mouth, processing his words before responding.
“And it’s you.” she laughed. However it wasn’t one of her hearty laughs, but one that was deflated to a huff of air out of her lungs.
Marinette pulled her kitty up and out of the debris. Her arms stiffen around his chest. Too tense to relax even when the danger was gone. The bakers’ daughter wrapped her arms around her partner in crime.
“Please be okay.” She hushed out like an old prayer. Letting light sob escape her coral lips before Adrien returned her embrace.
Both unaware that the villain behind the terrorist attacks on Paris saw this touching moment.
——
Marinette pressed her lips against Adrien’s cheek. A tingle ran up her spine as his hand combed through her hair. It has gotten longer as time passed, she has been debating about cutting it. Maybe up to her freckled shoulders or her rosy chin or maybe up to her round ears.
Honestly, he wondered over the idea of her having shorter hair. Yet, in the end, he had no real preference but Marinette grew fond of cutting it off. Her Instagram feed grew to be different haircuts and tutorials on how to style short hair. However, she still enjoyed the length her hair was at. It was the longest it has ever been so Marinette was gonna enjoy it as much as she could. All before she got tired and in a fit of frustration cuts it off if it gave her any problems.
But that was Marinette for you.
His lovely Marinette, the only Lady in his life, and his partner in crime-fighting.
It was perfect. Sitting on the couch like this was perfect. Holding her close and keeping her close was just great. Perfect. More than perfect, if a word like that even existed. Nothing could ruin-
Marinette sat up from her seat, pushing her head away from Adrien’s shoulder.
The TV in front of them rang a familiar news report.
There the screen played a burning red screen as the words that usually glowed, “Akuma Alert” now spelled “Miraculous Emergency”.
Hawkmoth was spotted at the top of the City Hall. In-person and with a message for the heroes.
----
Master always liked Marinette more. He planned for her to be his successor, so he made sure that she knew all the in’s and out’s of everything that involved the Secret Order and how to defend the Miraculous. Understanding more and more of the powers behind her earrings and the other jewels hidden away in a black music box. Luckily, Marinette was a quick learner and even quicker on her feet. Swift even under pressure.
Never breaking a sweat even when she wanted to cry and her strength failed to push ‘him’ off of her.
“Chat Noir, I know this isn’t you.”
-
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s Chat Blanc, now!”
Pressing harder on his baton before Ladybug slipped out from his grasp after getting her footing and knocking him off. Shoving him on to a wall before making a break for it.
She was too smart to try to escape and run. Most likely, she had a plan and she just needed to bait him in. To drag him into somewhere where she had the upper hand. Honestly, Chat Blanc knew better- but there’s something in him that made the grin on his face grow and burst into a sprint after her.
Excited to see how the next Guardian handles this cat-astrophe.
----
This wasn’t Adrien Agreste, but another plan crafted by his father. One that was determined to use any pawn in his reach to get what he wanted. This time it was just his son playing the role of the villain for him.
Gabriel didn’t expect his own flesh and blood to be the hero he was plotting against, but it made things easier. -And ten times harder. He had to come to terms with his actions and ask Emilie for forgiveness for what he was determined to do. Yet, all that time locked up in his office, shuffling around business deals and schemes made him realize that not everything can be black and white. Yet, you can force it to be. Killing the feelings of doubt in him as he summoned his ‘wings’.
Adrien will be so heartbroken when he wakes up, but he’ll forget about that the moment he sees his mother again. Everything will be right as rain.
All after a little bug gets squashed.
-----
#ml#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#my writing#ladybug#ml au#my fic#fic#my writings#writings#chat noir#chat blanc#ml season three#ml season 3#ml fics#miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir#aged up#aged up au#icy#ml fic#hawkmoth#whole love square#anagst#light angst#light ice angst
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In My Mind x 02
*Reuploading because I've edited these to flow a little bit better. Thank you for your patience!
We cannot abandon the rabbit hole.
It lives within us.
---
His rich and raspy voice echoes in your ears like the one that has been stuck there for days.
...Had been
Where had he gone and why? How? How is he here physically? It doesn’t make any sense. And somehow you're still physically or mentally tied to him!
Maybe your brain is sending signals to the wrong places. Are you still dreaming somehow? This ordeal doesn’t seem plausible. He’d found you like he said he would which means that he is just as real as you are. Flesh and blood.
“Keep me," you squint, wet hands dripping water to the floor.
“Keep you,” he confirms with no hesitation. “Can you do this with other people?”
It’s not an innocent question and although his expression gives nothing away, you feel a dark motive behind it.
“This has never happened before. I don’t know how it started or why, but I won’t abuse it.”
A brief chuckle escapes him. “I could convince you.”
You hadn’t seen his face before, always seeing what he saw through his eyes, but looking at him today, you were sure he could. If not by sensual tactics then by terrorism and violence. You can feel Glenda and Lia’s ears on your conversation although they face away, fingers moving through client hair… like yours should be.
The water is still running in the shampoo bowl and his eyes are on you. Brushing him off, you finish washing his locs silently with a squeeze and release motion, conditioning for softness and once under the dryer he pulls out his phone, tapping away with both thumbs.
You sit in your chair, stealing glimpses. Anyone looking at him would think of him as a normal guy, maybe a model or a personal trainer. Maybe a young professor or a medical student. It’s true, you really can’t know a person’s story just by looking at them. He doesn’t wear the trauma. He has a quiet arrogance but also the wisdom to conceal it. Then again.. like most complicated people, there are layers. Dignity. Insecurity rooted in loss. Tenacity. Fleeting environments with faster fleeting people. Empathy. The ability to see monstrous souls hidden within human shells.
His phone lowers to his lap and his eyes fall closed. Suddenly everything around you swirls down into calm and quiet as you watch him, graceful and beautiful and still. His black lashes over hooded eyes. The clear brown of his skin reaching down in high definition. His cupid’s bow over thick trapezoid lips. The bountiful coarse hairs that coat his jaw and upper lip. You’re in limbo, balancing hazily between reality and fiction.
He opens his eyes and the shop’s background noise turns up again to full volume as your body jolts itself fully awake. His smug smile tells you that he’s aware of what’s happened. You were dazed and it seems the proximity between you only deepens the psychic connection. He’s now openly testing the parameters of this newfound ability.
You glance at Lia and catch her as she turns away. How you’d explain all of this to her or anyone else you did not know. You couldn’t find the words.
Escaping outside, the air is hot, not comforting or refreshing, just hot!
“Damn this summer heat.”
You breathe in and out repeatedly, staring up at the clear blue sky until your hands stop trembling.
“How am I supposed to help him? This is a lot to process and I'm so confused. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this.. God. Show me what to do.”
You wait for a sign of some sort as a plane flys slowly overhead. All you see are cars driving by on the busy road straight ahead, past the half-empty lot as all manner of people walk in and out of the surrounding businesses. A latinx family with three kids crosses the parking lot to their car. None of that helps you.
Back inside, you pull Erik to start on retwisting his locks. Carefully palmrolling them with gel, you get them all laid and then you braid them all to the back and out of his face, per his request.
“Meet me at my place,” you mutter when you're done.
“Don’t keep me waiting,” he replies and then he’s gone.
It takes one pleading look to Lia for her to agree to braid your next customer. Four large goddess braids.
—
Your apartment is at the end of the hall and Erik’s tall, built frame is posted against the wall directly beside the door. He doesn’t bother with small talk and neither do you. Feeling his eyes, you fumble with your lock. He follows you inside and moves round the room, looking this way and that at this and that. He’s a curious guy. You don’t have many knick knacks, but your place is still colorful and cozy.
“Tell me somethin about you, Nia.” His wandering doesn’t cease.
“What do you want to know?” You follow him into your bedroom. There’s your bed, your window, your dresser and nightstand, a floor length mirror, and a random piece of wall art you bought to tie things together. It’s a good thing your place was clean.
He pulls open your closet, flipping through hangers and closes the door again.
“Where’s all the pictures, photo albums, stuffed animals from your childhood and shit like that? You seem the sentimental type to hang onto to it.”
“My albums and photos are on my phone. I do have a small velvet bear that I call Velvet. He’s at my dad’s house.”
“Where is your dad?”
“Atlanta.”
“With your mom?”
“Stepmom.”
“Where’s your other mom?”
“...We don’t know. She left shortly after I was born.”
“Who do you look like?”
“Uh.. my dad says I look a little like her and I see it a little bit based on the picture I have of her, but mostly I look like him.”
“Do you ever think of your mom?”
“Sometimes.. I used to think of her all the time when I was younger.”
“Are you happy?”
“Am I happy.. like in general?”
“With your life.”
“I guess.. I’m not complaining.”
He drops down on your bed looking to your pillow and then he adjusts himself down on his back getting comfortable.
“You gotta take your shoes off,” you say and when he doesn’t move you tug at his sneakers. Y-3’s. You decide against tossing them and drop them carefully to the floor instead. “Why can’t I hear you anymore?"
His eyes close and everything is silent. You turn away so not to look directly at him this time and it feels.. somewhat like it did when you were in his head. He’s present, but out of view.
“It was a test,” he blurts with lids still shut. “I slept, but I didn’t go into deep sleep or REM. REM is where we get our most vivid dreams so it makes sense that when I stopped deep sleeping, it stopped the dreams and it blocked you.”
“So basically you haven’t really been sleeping?”
Silence.
"You seem to know a lot about this so you should know better than I do how crucial deep sleep is to your brain functioning, self-repair, and immunity system. That's basic knowledge. You need a deep sleep, even if it gives you those dreams and me in your head.”
“You’re not the problem.”
That response is unexpected, but you ignore the flutter you feel from it for more pressing matters.
“You don’t want the dreams period, but it feels like you can’t stop them. How is it when you wake up?”
Silence again.
“Erik?”
He doesn’t stir.. and then he does.
“If you wanna know.. stick around,” he croaks slowly, half gone already. Then you know he’s completely out because that familiar pull is calling you to lay down. You fight it off, standing to buffer the temptation. A large glass of juice is in order.
For the next hour, you monitor him, watching as he falls deeper and deeper.
90 minutes in, the pull on you gets stronger. If you had ice water, you’d splash yourself, but you don’t want to move or miss a thing. His eyelids move rapidly and you know he’s passed a simple deep sleep. He mumbles something, but it sounds like a foreign language.
The journal. It was full of maps and symbols that looked like language and in the dream he was reading it... Whatever he's mumbling.. It must be linked to those symbols. His eyebrows furrow and the once peaceful expression is gone. His arm twitches, the muscles tensing and veins shifting. His hand balls into a tight fist and his leg moves. What kind of nightmare could he be reliving?
He jerks and thrashes and you wonder if you should wake him now, but then he stops. Sweat beads on his skin around his hairline and in a sheen on his face and neck. He looks afraid as he squeezes your blanket. It’s bad. You know it’s bad. You remember hearing that you shouldn’t shake someone awake who’s having a nightmare like this and you hope he wakes up soon. It takes a while, too long, but then he jolts awake bolting upright.
For the next few seconds, he just stares ahead, heaving and you remember how that feels. You fetch him a glass of water and bring it to his lips. You know his throat is tight because of what you’d experienced yourself. He's shaking. He has to get himself to realize where he is and that it was only a dream. A heavy tear rolls down his face followed by another and he squeezes his eyes shut, steeling himself.
Setting the glass on the nightstand, you break the boundary of personal space and hold him, staring over his shoulder to the art above your bed. He doesn’t lift his arms to close the embrace, but he doesn’t push you away either. He doesn't move, so you continue to hold him tightly for as long as he’ll allow.
You start to wonder if he’s cried himself back to sleep, but then his quiet voice rumbles in his chest.
“You gotta figure out.. how to help me..”
Taken aback, you don’t let go or loosen your hug, you listen. You wonder how you’re supposed to help him without a degree in psychology. How could you change his past? You couldn’t.
“And now that you’ve seen me like this...,” he clears his throat, “You know how important your role is..... SO NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE IN THAT AGAIN!”
You know his emotions are high, so you disregard the venom in his voice.
“Okay. If you dream, I’ll intervene. We’ll figure this out together.”
“How did you find me,” he asks with genuine interest but you’re just as curious to know the answer.
“I don’t know. You know this has never happened to me before. I only thought I was supposed to help you because that’s what this lady who prayed for me a couple days ago said."
"What lady? Let’s find her.”
He was right, maybe she had more wisdom or answers to bestow. Afterall, this was nothing short of a miracle. You call Glenda and by her clipped tone, you know someone pissed her off and to keep this brief.
“Glenda, it’s Nia. I need the name and contact of the woman you booked that prayed for me in the shop. You styled her after the blue fingerwaves. Church wristband, pretty, sweet face, professional-looking-”
“I don’t recall anything like that. I had to perm a lady, but she definitely wasn’t that.”
“What? You don’t remember a lady praying for me in the shop?”
Erik’s eyes narrow and Glenda’s tone switches to concerned.
“Nia, are you feeling okay? You’re really not acting like yourself and it’s starting to get a little scary.”
This is crazy, how does she not remember this woman?
“Well do you remember me styling a man today,” you test. She seems to remember Erik, just not the woman.
You hang up.
Other Chapters:
#erik killmonger#original#killmonger#erik stevens#erik killmonger fanfiction#erik killmonger imagines#erik stevens au#erik killmonger imagine#erik killmonger x reader#erik x reader#erik stevens x you#killmonger fanfiction
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