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peanutpinet · 1 year

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For You Only (pt. 2 of Anything for You) - Demon Jaehyun x Witch Reader

A/N: this is the pt. 2 of Anything for You, the demon Jaehyun fic that I did like last November. There's not much action and just some fluffy domestic things 🥹

Warnings: a fight scene, demon Jeong actually having feelings and a heart for the reader, probably cliche scenes but fluffy domestic actions (I'm such a sucker for this)

Link to Pt.1: Anything For You

How did you end up from begging for Jaehyun’s help when you were hurt and all bloody to going for a walk at the park in the middle of the night? Well, to the average person or even witches from your coven would find this ridiculous but to Jaehyun, it all just seems like another Tuesday night.

After you visited Jaehyun and talked to him, Jaehyun agreed to help you without having you to sacrifice your entire life and even freedom for him. However, he did make you promise, well made a deal with him to give him a chance into getting to know each other and even perhaps to take you out every so often which you didn’t think much of it because he practically saved you and your loved ones’ life.

So here you were, all dressed up in a cosy beige sweater and dark grey culotte with a black cardigan whereas Jaehyun was wearing a full black outfit but with a dark green/grey bomber jacket, his hair was slightly styled down compared to his typical slicked back look. One might even mistake him for a typical college or young CEO.

When you walked towards him, Jaehyun looked up from his phone and smiled the second his eyes laid on you; as if all the mortals surrounding the two of you are just some lost souls. Right when you were just in arms reach, Jaehyun handed you a bouquet of flowers which caught you off-guard but you accepted the flowers nonetheless.

While Jaehyun tried to hold your hand as you walked to the restaurant, you instinctively avoided him, telling him that that was a big step and you didn’t feel comfortable at all. Luckily enough, Jaehyun was considerate and proceed the day as he planned.

Arriving at the restaurant, you were amazed at how Jaehyun managed to get a reservation at a very renowned place. Seeing you being amazed made Jaehyun’s heart swell with pride. He called out for you and was directed by the waiter to the table.

Of course, being the gentleman he was, Jaehyun helped you in your seat as you took in the interior of the restaurant and practically took pictures for memories. Despite not talking that much, Jaehyun managed to keep the conversation light and even made you feel comfortable without having to push you to talk to him; as if talking with him just came naturally.

After lunch which Jaehyun paid for, he asked you if there was something that you’d like to do and decided to bring Jaehyun to the places where you like to go. Despite the whole date being Jaehyun’s idea, you also wanted to show him about the things that you like to do, to hopefully get him to understand where you’re coming from.

You took Jaehyun to the local cafe where you love to get your daily dose of tea and pastry which Jaehyun decided to get something to join in with you. The two of you sat by the window and Jaehyun asked if you’ve always done these mundane things alone which you replied back that oftentimes you would be alone and that’s mainly because you feel that every time you’ve become too close or attached to someone, that person would always get hurt which made you try your best to not easily be attached to anyone.

Seeing your distraught self, Jaehyun immediately pulls away from the topic to about himself, saying that he too also had a lot to sacrifice, especially when he was a human a long time ago. Curious, you asked him what were the things that he remembered as a human. Whether there were things that he missed when he was a human.

“It’s been long since I’ve become what I am today that I truly don’t remember much. I feel quite unattached with the current world. Though one thing that I’ve noticed hasn’t changed is that humans would always do whatever it takes for something or someone they truly love and care for. Just like you did for your people. But then again, that’s something that I actually envy of. Because at least it means that you have people you care about and vice versa” Jaehyun replied, looking out the window

“Well, what do you do on a daily basis nowadays?” you asked

“I mean, whether you supernatural beings notice it, there are actually a lot of lost souls. Especially after what happened” Jaehyun paused, squinting his eyes before looking back at you. “So, I have to collect them and punish them for what they’ve done” Jaehyun continued, sipping his coffee

“Do you collect all the souls? Both humans and supernatural?” you asked

“No. In fact, I rarely collect those souls. It’s only the difficult ones. However, I don’t just collect souls. After what happened in my previous life, I was punished to atone for what I’ve done by punishing those who have done wrong. Well, mainly the obvious ones. Like killing sprees, robberies, and even corruption. Well, especially those corrupted souls because those are the ones that cause the most trouble. Trust me when I say that a corrupted soul is the scariest of them all. Just like that powerful witch you had to go up against” Jaehyun mentioned

“But don’t you say that you have a daytime job?” you asked curiously, making Jaehyun chuckle. “What’s so funny?” you scoffed

“Nothing. It’s just interesting how you actually seem interested” Jaehyun teased, sipping his coffee a bit slower this time

“What? Just because I always seem serious, I’m not okay. If you don’t want to share then whatever” you tsked, looking away until you heard Jaehyun talk

“Like I said, I punish the corrupted souls. So my job technically has to be involved with all those corrupted souls” Jaehyun shrugged

“So like you’re in the mafia?” you asked whilst Jaehyun just chuckled

“I’ll save you that information, darling. I don’t like you to be involved in what I do here. You have a kind heart. One of the reasons why you interest me in the first place. I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want you to be corrupted by the things that I do. I hope that they won’t scare you at least” Jaehyun admitted, making your heart beat in a certain way that you haven’t felt in a long time

Right when Jaehyun stated that short statement, you kept on rethinking about what your initial thoughts about Jaehyun. Sure, he was a demon and would often heavily punish people which others might think are a bit too harsh but after listening to his snippets, you came to a realisation that Jaehyun wasn’t actually as evil as everyone portrays him to be.

Sure, Jaehyun might actually like punishing some but then again, those people actually deserve it since they were all corrupted people. But even from Jaehyun’s story, there was still part of you that was unsure if what Jaehyun said was all true because you have never seen what Jaehyun actually does; even since you saved him, you have never encountered him again until you were the one that called out to him.

You didn’t realise how long you were in your own thoughts until Jaehyun called out to you, telling you that he needed to grab a few things for your at-home dinner date which you completely forgot ever since the conversation at the cafe.

The two of you strolled around the supermarket and grabbed a few things that you personally liked because Jaehyun said that he was pretty much alright with anything and he’ll just cook with whatever dish you were craving for. In addition, Jaehyun said that he would pay for everything; saying that it was his idea and he wants to treat you right which made your heart beat in a certain way again.

As Jaehyun was paying, your witch side was sensing something off around the neighbourhood. Following your instincts, you went out of the supermarket and follow the inner voice in your head that led you to a compound nearby where there was some sort of crowd that was just sitting down and hearing some sort of city announcement.

Unfortunately, before you could react, a fire started and it created a commotion. Using your powers, you secretly tried to put the fire out or at least help the crowd escape by redirecting the fire smoke. But what you failed to notice was a group of heretics coming to cause even more chaos than the fire they created.

Before you could finish your spell to make the fire go out, one of the heretics noticed you and in a blink, you felt a sharp pain both on your neck and arm because this heretic was both siphoning your powers and feeding from you. Right when you could hear your own heart beat slower, the pain was gone and a hand gently caught your head. Blinking slowly, you noticed that it was Jaehyun and he looked like he was worried but also wanted to kill someone.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Jaehyun questioned, softly cradling you, checking other injuries on you

“I can’t help it. I sensed something and my body moved on its own. I’m fine tho. You saved me, again. Looks like I’ll have a lot of debt” you tried to joke but Jaehyun just sighed

“We’ll talk later after I finish dealing with all these irritating supernaturals” Jaehyun sighed, kissing your forehead which helped you regain your powers back and Jaehyun walked to the mess, immediately taking control of the situation and punishing the heretics that caused the chaos in the first place.

After Jaehyun punished the heretics, he was about to take you and just leave but you convinced him to at least help clean up the mess which he eventually gave in because he just couldn’t resist you. Back at the safety of Jaehyun’s private suite, he took care of you himself, making sure that there wasn’t a scratch left on your body that he didn’t know about.

“I hope that this would be the last time that you jump into this kind of mess. I hate to see you get hurt or even cry” Jaehyun uttered, brushing your hair back

“No promises, Jae” you breathed out, just enjoying the small moments

“While I do love your courage and kindness, I hate when others take advantage of you for it. Ever since you saved me, I’ve been watching you whenever I have the chance and I hate how everyone never appreciates you. You deserve much much more and I would do anything to give it to you. That’s why I made the deal to have you stand by me; always and forever. Because at least by that, I would be able to watch and care for you” Jaehyun stated but he didn’t let you cut him off

“I know that I’m not the best person to show my feelings but that’s because deep down, I worry that once I show any sort of feelings, some will find me weak. Especially if they found out about you because darling, you’re my one weakness after centuries of living. But I know that you love the freedom to be able to roam around and experience whatever is it you want in this world. I know that my deal basically condemned you to stay by me but what I hate more than you being hurt is if I’m the reason for your sadness. So, I’ll cut the deal off” Jaehyun added, making you shock that the person that always punishes others and made sure everyone paid their debt would actually let you go freely

“Our outing, well dates, showed me that you’re like a bird. You’re gorgeous and love to spread your wings to wherever the wind will take you but once you’re caged, you lose that sense of flight and I don’t want that. I’ll let you go and live your life because that’s what you deserve. To be happy even if it’s with someone else. But I’ll still be watching over” Jaehyun whispered, cupping your cheeks and caressing them

Jaehyun was right. You do love your freedom but oftentimes, with that freedom, others would take advantage of it without you even knowing it. Though you were more than glad for Jaehyun cutting the deal off, you can’t help but wonder what Jaehyun will be doing if and when you move on from him, from all the moments you’ve had with him.

Sure, you were more than happy hearing Jaehyun finally understanding the life that you love but he wasn’t the only one that came to a realisation because you too finally understood that behind his cold stoic look was actually a man that became a victim centuries ago. A man that has never gotten the love and care that he deserved. But maybe, that’s why the universe brought you to each other. To complete the missing part of each others’ life. It was then that you finally made the decision to stay by Jaehyun till the end of time and if somehow one of you would leave the other behind, you would find a way to come back to each other in whatever life you were in.

“Jaehyun. Thank you. For understanding” you cried but Jaehyun wiped your tears and was about to let go of your cheek but you held his arm in place

“But I too finally understand about you. You deserve to experience the love and care that everyone do” you added, making Jaehyun confused but he let you continue

“I don’t want you to have to go through anything on your own. I want to stay. With you. I want to take care of you just as I have done for others. I want you to understand that having feelings doesn’t make you weak. As cliche as it sounds, it sometimes gives you the strength that you never noticed. I want you to feel the freedom that I’ve felt. And to experience new things together. That is, if you also want to” you confessed as Jaehyun was the one to hold your hand now

“If that’s truly how you feel…I, I truly am grateful to have you and to be able to meet you. I just don’t want you to regret your decision later because I’m not an easy person to care for and so if you do change your…” Jaehyun started but you stopped him, cupping his cheeks, his normal cold skin felt warmer

“I know you might not be an easy person to understand but that’s the beauty of it. There’s always a rainbow at the end of a storm. And you’re no different, Jung Jaehyun. You were once human yet you never got the love and care you deserve. So let me give you that” you breathed out. The first person to have ever said his human name after centuries, igniting something in Jaehyun after centuries of not feeling anything

Leaning closer, Jaehyun scanned your expression to see any uncomfortableness but when he doesn’t find one and was actually welcomed with a smile and nod, Jaehyun was done holding back. He cupped your face and closed the gap between the two of you. Maybe, you were right. Jaehyun was human even if it was centuries ago. He still had a heart and feelings. Perhaps, all of those good and loving parts of him were waiting for the right person, you. Because now that you were his, Jaehyun has no intention of holding back everything that he has felt for you. Everything that he does. Every decision he makes. It’s all for you, only.

A/N: I hope that you all have been well because someone at work has been pissing me off and I just need some escapism plus my lovely author friend @mymoodwriting and some of the readers wanted a pt.2 on the Jaehyun demon fic. So, I hope that this satisfies everyone about hoping that the reader falls for Jaehyun! Alright, time to go back to being a corporate slave and hopefully I'll be able to write another story soon (was thinking alpha hybrid Johnny, hehehe). Stay safe :) xoxo Vinet

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Chaotic Family Tingz - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader ft. Older brother L/N Ryu and Younger brother L/N Itazura

Warnings: Cursing, Crack, Fluff, Tatted Bakugou bc ✨SPICE✨

Summary: You have a very….special family. You were nervous to not only bring your Tatted, motorcycle riding boyfriend to your home but also to show your very loving boyfriend your insane family. Unfortunately, the truth cannot be hidden for long. Unfortunately for your boyfriend, Bakugou, he learned the truth in a very L/N family way.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: Heavily inspired by Good Luck Charlie. ALSO, I wrote this more based around Y/N and her life but Katsuki plays part in it. I still think it’s good bc imagine Bakugou being in this situation 😆🤣

You and Bakugou Katsuki have been dating for a year. You fell in love with the Bakugou Katsuki.

He who had a sleeve full of tattoos, who wore black combat boots and chains, who rode slick black motorcycles yet was a total softie when it came to you

Even though you had been dating for over a year, you didn’t bring him home for multiple reasons

1. You wanted to be sure he was the one before he met your crazy family, 2. You didn’t want him to meet your crazy family

Notice how we keep saying crazy?

Eventually, Bakugou got tired of waiting. He wanted you to be comfortable but he also wanted to know you loved him enough to think he was the guy you would want to bring home to meet your family

Meeting the parents and meeting the family is a big step and shows that you really want him as part of your life. It would mean a whole lot to him

And when he requested to meet your family and you shut it down again, he began to question you

“Do you not want me to meet them because…of me? Do you not want them to meet me?”

You looked at your boyfriend with a sad look as he stared at you like a kicked puppy

“Baby, no. Of course I want my family to meet you.”

“Then why haven’t they?”

“….Because I don’t want you to meet them.”

“What?”

“Suki! They’re insane! I’m just- *sigh.* What if their craziness drives you away from me?”

Bakugou laughed at you in disbelief. Leave you? Like hell he would. Bakugou’s done a whole lot in his life and you are the one thing he got right.

“Yeah no. Sorry princess but you’re stuck with me for life. I’m not going anywhere.” When he said that, he kissed your knuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips which convinced you to let him meet your insane family

He celebrated right in front of you

Anyway, what you need to know is that you’re family is….crazy crazy. Crazy as in things are never boring in your house because things are always happening

(Mind you, the actions below happened before you said yes to letting Katsuki meet your family)

Now back to what we were saying

Bad things happen a lot. Things like your little 11 year old brother, Itazura, always getting into trouble at school. In fact, this time he got into so much trouble that his teacher called for a parent teacher meeting

Not wanting to get in trouble at home, Itazura had you and your brother pretend to be his parents and go to the meeting

Now you said no in the beginning, but he blackmailed you by threatening to tell your parents you broke their priceless-antique wedding china and so you had to give in

It didn’t take much convincing for your older brother, Ryu, to join in on Itazura’s plan. Ryu was a very….simple person.

“You’re just gonna give in like that?” You asked him

“I mean, in the end it just saves time.” He said, referring to how Itazura will always find a way to get what he wants

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

And so, you and Ryu posed as Itazura’s parents. You dressed in your mom’s work clothes while Ryu dressed in a suit and put on a fake mustache for gags

You both presented yourselves along with Itazura to his teacher, who can barely see straight, and the plan went on perfectly. You guys got away with it!

That was until Itazura’s teacher, who was named Mrs. Iko, saw you at the movies on a date with Katsuki

And this is where it all goes down. Take a seat my bitches, and bros, and non-binary hoes cuz shits about to get real

(Shoutout to you if you get the reference ;)

—

*Ding Dong*

Your brother was sitting on the couch with his boyfriend when all of a sudden the doorbell rang, catching Ryu’s attention.

Opening the door, Ryu was met with the sight of Mrs. Iko. She took notice of his younger clothes, appearance, and mustache-less face. “Mrs. Iko? What’re you doing here?”

“Mr. L/N!” Mrs. Iko said with a shocked face and hand over her mouth. “You look so much younger! And your mustache has disappeared!”

Ryu grew visibly nervous at her words and gulped before letting out a shaky laugh. “O-Oh! Right! Yes, Uh- yes I’ve always been known for my Uh- youthful looks! And I just recently shaved- wanted a new look, you know?”

“Oh, well that doesn’t matter. I’m afraid I have some awful news.” Mrs. Iko said with a worried face as Ryu listened. “It’s about your wife.”

At that, Ryu’s longtime boyfriend, Daisuke, stood and walked towards the two. “Your wife? You have a wife?”

“No.” Ryu said.

“You don’t?” Mrs. Iko asked.

“Of course I do!” Ryu said, turning to her. Mrs. Iko looked around as if everyone in the house was crazy (they were) before speaking.

“Who are you?” She asked Daisuke.

“I’m his boyfriend.” He said. At that moment, you walked into the house holding Katsuki’s hand, ready to introduce him to your family, totally unprepared for what was about to go down.

“Hey guys! We’re back from the- GAH!” You said, yelping once you saw Mrs. Iko in the house. Mrs. Iko looked at you and Katsuki in shock as she pointed to you both.

“And here she is with her boyfriend!” Mrs. Iko exclaimed. Ryu felt pressured to play along and tried to save Itazura’s secret by keeping the husband act going.

“You’re cheating on me?!” Ryu said to you. “You’re a married woman!”

“You’re married?!” Bakugou asked you with an angry and hurt voice.

“No! No, no, no, no.” You said with a nervous laugh, trying to reassure him.

“You’re not?” Mrs. Iko asked.

“Of course I am!” You said, snapping your head to her. At that moment, Itazura walked in from the kitchen, but once he saw Mrs. Iko, he quickly turned back to go to the kitchen once more with a shocked expression.

“Geeeh!” He exclaimed before turning around, unfortunately caught by you.

“Uh- ITAZURA!” You shouted from the door as Bakugou held you close by the waist as a way of claiming his territory just in case things were in trouble for the two of you. Don’t worry, they weren’t. He believed you when you said you weren’t married but he’s starting to notice the weird shit that goes down in this house.

Itazura then came back, slowly poking his head in from behind the door as he stepped out. “Yes, Mother?”

Hearing you referred to that, Bakugou’s eyes popped before looking down at you. “Okay! I’m starting to see why you didn’t want me to meet your family.”

You nodded your head in a very ‘yeah…sadly,’ type of way.

“Uh- Itazura,” you said, walking towards your little brother. “Mrs. Iko has found out that your father and I are having problems.” You said in a ‘help us out of this you evil mastermind,’ type of way.

“Uhhh..and does she know that you guys are the reason I misbehave?” Itazura said, loud enough for Mrs. Iko to hear, hoping she would.

“Oh, I do now!” Mrs. Iko said sympathetically. Itazura came in like the evil mastermind he is and pulled out his fake tears.

“Well, maybe some good can come from all this pain,” he said with his fake tears and pouty lip towards his teacher. You faked a laugh before whispering to your younger brother.

“Hehehe…dial it down.” You said to him before turning to his teacher. “Um, Mrs. Iko, if you’ll excuse us, this family has some healing to do.”

“Which! I would like to do with just my parents and their apparent significant others,” Itazura said pointing to Daisuke and Katsuki.

“Welp! You should be on your way! Stay warm now!” Ryu said, beginning to escort Mrs. Iko out the front door by her shoulders. “Don’t wanna freeze off your toes!”

Unfortunately, right before the two reached the door, your actual parents came in. At the sight of them, you and your siblings flinched, sighed, and groaned before facing them. Luckily, Itazura came in once again to try and save the day in his lying ways.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Itazura said going in to hug his actual parents to play his part. Your parents looked down to your brother in confusion and suspicion, well aware that your brother can get into some mischievous trouble.

“What’s going on?!” Your mom said, shaking off your brother’s hug.

“I’m Itazura’s teacher, I came to talk to his parents.” Mrs. Iko said introducing herself and gesturing to you and Ryu, to which the two of you scrunched your faces at being caught.

“We’re his parents.” Your dad said, gesturing to your mom and him. Mrs. Iko grew a face of utter shock before Itazura opened his mouth again.

“Hahaha, that’s right grandpa! You’re my dad!” Itazura said before whispering to Mrs. Iko. “He thinks he’s the president too.”

Your mom looked unimpressed at your brother’s lie until she caught sight of Bakugou in his white v-neck tee, and his big beefy arms covered in tattoos, holding his green bomber jacket, wearing his black ripped jeans and black combat boots. “Who are you?”

“Hey, I’m Bakugou Katsuki.” Your boyfriend said, waving with his gentler voice. Your dad looked outside and pointed to the foreign vehicle in their driveway before turning to Katsuki.

“Is that your motorcycle?” Your dad asked, making you nervous before you jumped to stand next to Katsuki to defend him.

“Um, yeah, about that-“

“I love motorcycles!” Your dad exclaimed with a smile.

“We’re dating!” You proudly said with a bright grin as you wrapped your arms around Katsuki’s as he looked down to you with a loving smile, loving when he heard you say those words to other people.

“Will you stop throwing that in my face?!” Ryu said, still playing his act.

“We’re not doing that anymore.” You blankly said to him with a dead stare.

“Great! Because I was getting a bit confused,” Ryu said and wrapped his arm around Daisuke’s waist.

And on that night, Mrs. Iko left, just as confused as Ryu.

—

“Alright,” your mom began, beginning to speak to you, your siblings, Daisuke, and Katsuki. “You, you, you, you, and you, sit. Now.”

“Uh, sorry,” your boyfriend said, “but I’m not your child. I don’t think you can tell me what to-“

“Did. I. Stutter?” Your mother asked with her devil eyes. Your gentler father stood behind her with a pleading look to your boyfriend to try and convince him to save himself. Katsuki felt his heart shake in fear at your mother’s tone and he opened his mouth to speak before closing it and taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“Mama Bear?” He asked you, referring to your mother.

“Mama Bear.” You confirmed. Bakugou nodded his head before relaxing into the couch.

“Okay. Now somebody tell me what’s going on.” Your mom demanded. You and Ryu remained quiet while your boyfriends sat in confusion. You all looked to Itazura who sighed before giving in.

“Okay, fine. I was getting in trouble at school and it got to the point where I had to have a parent teacher meeting. I didn’t want to get in trouble at home so I blackmailed Y/N and Ryu into being my parents so I could get away with it.” Itazura then explained.

“I guess somewhere along the line, Mrs. Iko caught me and Katsuki together so I guess she came here to tell Ryu, who she thought was my husband, that I was having an affair.” You then explained. Ryu was just sitting on the couch with his arm still around Daisuke before he raised his hand.

Your mother sighed at her oldest child being so..childish. “Yes, Ryu?”

“Uh- no I was just wondering if I could put on the fake mustache again.” He stupidly said with a genuine heart. You and your younger brother sighed in disappointment at his idiocy before turning to your parents.

“So? Are you going to punish us?” You asked your mom. She smiled at you sweetly before taking a seat in front of you on the coffee table.

“Oh, sweetie…..of course we’re going to punish you.” She said while placing a hand on your knee. She then stood to hand out her dealings. “Itazura, no video games, no sleepovers, no tv. Ryu, Y/N - no phones, no tv, no going anywhere after school. All of you, grounded. 2 weeks. We’re letting you keep your laptops for school work so if you need to communicate, use those. Am I clear?”

You and your siblings all nodded before your mother sighed and addressed the last thing. “Now finally, what did you say your name was, sweetie?”

“Oh! Uh, Bakugou Katsuki.” Your boyfriend said. Your mother smiled at him kindly before dropping that smile and giving him a look.

“Age?”

“18.”

“Grades?”

“Straight A’s.”

“School?”

“U.A.”

“Tattoos and Piercings. Why?”

“Most of them are to honor the people in my life.”

“Motorcycle. Why?”

“It was a gift I decided to not let go to waste.”

“Are you an asshole?”

“Only to idiots.”

“Why my daughter?”

“Because when she smiles everything in the world instantly makes sense to me.”

His last answer made you smile at him in awe as you scooted in closer. It also made your parents smile before your mom reached over to place a hand on his arm. “Welcome to the family, Bakugou.”

—

“So that’s your family, huh?” Bakugou asked as you both sat in your backyard on the hammock looking at the starry sky.

“Heh, yeah. A bunch of clowns.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm held you close.

“I don’t think so. They seem fun.” Bakugou said, trying to uplift your spirits.

“Fun. Crazy. Same shit I guess.” You said causing you both to laugh. Katsuki sighed in gratitude at finally getting to meet your family and allowed his head to drop on your own. “Umm..you’re not gonna leave me though..right?”

“Never.” He said with a small laugh and kiss to the crown of your head. “Like I said, you’re stuck with me. Besides. I now know if I’m ever bored, your family will always be around. S’like free entertainment.” He said making you giggle. “Plus, Itazura doesn’t seem so bad. I don’t know, might wanna pull a few pranks on him just to teach him a lesson.”

“Aww, baby.” You said kissing his cheek. “No you don’t, it’ll backfire on you and he’ll set your ass on fire. Doesn’t matter if you’re 5 years older than him.”

Bakugou widened his eyes in offense before chuckling and cuddling in closer as you both swung on the hammock. That was when you raised your head to look at him. “So…when can I meet your parents?”

Bakugou’s eyes once again popped as he thought about his timid father who was a doormat to his demonic mother. “Uh…I don’t know..They’re kinda…insane.”

Here we go again.

Taglist: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight @lanantoine @whatdidshesayyy @qtsuki @lazyafgurl @dessykcm @misssugarless @unicornlover25 @sweethcnvy @hanamura-manami @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @ssurewhynottt

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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meet clay, he knows how you'll die.

intro filler chapter sorry

☾ pairing: dream x reader

☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers

☾ wc: ~4100

Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.

He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.

Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.

Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.

“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.

His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.

He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.

“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.

“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.

You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”

The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.

He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.

“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.

“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.

“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”

Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.

“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”

Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.

Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.

The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.

Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.

It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.

There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.

As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.

Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.

You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.

Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.

“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”

Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.

“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.

“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.

A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.

“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.

“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.

“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”

“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.

“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.

“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.

“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.

“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”

“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.

“Only if it was you.”

He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”

“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.

Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.

He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”

“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.

“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.

He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.

“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.

Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.

You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.

He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.

His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.

Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie

#dream x you #dream x fem!reader #dream x y/n #dream imagine #dream x reader #mcyt au #mcyt x reader #cw gore #cw language #tw violence #tw death #tw angst #tw gore #tw suicide #tw blood

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

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Polar (Bakugou x Reader) Birthday Special!

Bakugou Birthday Special!

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Inspo: this fanart by @delusional-lune

Word count: 1,181

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: I wasn’t expecting to do a Baku birthday special, but I saw that art and it was gonna be a drabble, but it’s also my little cousin’s birthday and she loves him, so I got the idea and I turned it into a little special!

I promise I’ll get to my 3 requests after this, I PROMISE! I was gonna do one today, but I did this instead, so I’m sorry! Please be patient, I’ll finish them all by the end of this week!

"Oi, you plan on getting up anytime soon, idiot?" Although he's not yelling, I know he's annoyed at me. "It's past noon already."

I cover my head with my pillow and groan, "Five more minutes, Katsuki."

He tugs the pillow and blanket off my head, forcing me to look at his obviously peeved face. "You've been saying that for the past hour, get out of bed."

I pout, rubbing my eyes and rolling over. "I'm tired though, let me sleep."

His weight comes down behind me as he grumbles, "How are we supposed to celebrate our birthday if you won't get up? I've already been awake since 8 waiting for you, I was gonna make us breakfast."

Katsuki and I are like night and day, which is why I don't believe a single word horoscopes say. He's an early riser while I'm a night owl. He's the loudest boy out there and I'm quiet as a mouse. He can cook while I burn toast. He always looks effortlessly put together while I'm a hot mess. I don't know how such different people could have been born on the exact same day.

His arm suddenly envelopes my shoulders and he nuzzles his nose into my neck. "If I give you your birthday gift now, will you get up?"

I turn over, meeting his mischievous crimson eyes. "Fine, I'll get up, you don't have to entice me."

He kisses my forehead. "That's my baby. Come on, I'll make us brunch I guess, go wash up. And if I catch you in bed again," he lightly taps my butt with a smirk, "You know what happens."

"G-Gross," I stutter as I push him away harshly. "I'll be up, okay? Bully...

Katsuki can't stop snickering at my obvious embarrassment and dumb insult. "Gosh, I love messing with you. If you're not down in 20 minutes, I'm coming back to find you."

"Yes, sir," I mumble as he leaves the room. When I hear his footsteps fade out into the kitchen, I scramble over to the box I hid in a corner of the closet behind some laundry, just an instinct to make sure it's still there for him to open. I plan to give it to him over our meal just now, maybe he'll wear it out today if he wants to. I hope he enjoys it, I smile to myself, But I'm not too worried. I tuck it back away for now and head to the bathroom to wash up. I look forward to seeing what he's gotten for me.

I tiptoe into the dining room with the taped up box under my arm, sliding it behind a pillow on the couch for now.

Katsuki starts throwing all his dishes and pans into the sink to clean later. "(Y/n)!" he calls for me, "You better be up already!"

"Right behind you," I sneak up and poke him in the sides, loving the yelp he lets out.

"Finally." He cranes his neck to kiss my cheek. "Go set the table, I'll bring the food."

I follow his instructions as he brings out our two meals to the table. We settle into place across from each other and I quietly thank him for the meal before digging in.

"It's been a while since we've had breakfast together, we're both busy and you're always sleeping in." He spoons out some of his homemade red pepper paste into his rice and egg mixture, and then into his soup.

I cringe a tiny bit. I know my boyfriend loves his spice and all, but it's always bothered me that he even adds spice to his soup that's suppose to be mellow and savory in flavor.

"I know you're looking at me weird, that's just the way I eat," Katsuki pipes up defensively.

"You really do love your spice," I mumble, but I can't help feeling the small bit of affection reach me. My precious boy is a unique, explosive personality and I wouldn't change him for the world.

At the end of our meal, Katuski puts his bowl down. "Alright. It's our special day, we're gonna enjoy it together alone, so what do you wanna do?"

I shrug. I don't care about all the formalities or going out all that much. As long as I get to spend time with him, I'll consider it a win. "Whatever you want."

He levels his neutral stare at me for a moment before shrugging as well. "Then let's open gifts first."

Both of us rise to our respective gift-hiding spots. When I return to the table with my long box, I notice that his gift is a small box that's about the size of his hand, and I wonder if I might have gone a bit overboard.

Katuski's eyes widen at my gift. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm opening that first."

I nod and just hand it over to him. At least he's eager to open it. He tears away the tape quickly, making me chuckle at how messily excited he is over it. The flimsy paper box is no match for Katsuki Bakugou, and he throws the tissue paper aside. I keep my eyes glued to his face, waiting for him to realize what his gift is.

"Whoa." His mouth forms a small, cute "o" as he lifts the red bomber jacket out of the box. I got it embroidered on the back to say "King Explosion Murderer." A toothy smirk spreads out on his face. "Yeah! We're definitely going out so I can wear this, babe! Thanks!"

Gosh, I know you too well, Katsuki. I grab the box from his side of the table and open the navy blue lid. Inside is a shamballa bracelet with emerald green disco beads. The ends of the drawstring have a dangling silver moon hanging off.

He lifts up the sleeve on his arm. "It's actually a couple's bracelet." Instead of green, his beads are red, and there's a Sun hanging off the end. "I think it's fitting since you're the more mellow one and I'm the loud one." He rubs the back of his neck. "Do you like it? I know it isn't as great as what you got me, I'm not that good at picking gifts."

I give him a gentle smile, the same warmth cascading through me and I slip it on my wrist. "Of course I do. What's better than me being your moon and you being my Sun?" I stand up and sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his nose. "Thank you, Katsu."

His eyes stare into mine with just as much affection. "You know, sometimes I wonder how someone so calm like you could've ended up with some big idiot like me."

He's shocked to see me flash him a mischievous smirk. "Because I secretly like the chaos."

Katsuki blinks before giving me another kiss on my lips and chuckling, his entire body rumbling at the action. "God, I love you, you're so full of surprises."

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou birthday special #gender neutral reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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marvels-writings · 4 years

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Entrancing Roses

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

Requested by @ophelias-heart: Its in the flower beds that are delicately fed, watered and weeded each day. The collections of succulents, spider plants, cacti that litter the common areas and half of the surface area in her bedroom. Its healing of her touch. The warmth of her hands, often dirt clad or clutching the dead heads of her bushes. The calm of the small patches of grass cut for purpose or the rest she wants to grow wild, swaying in the breeze. Its the undercurrent through the soil and clay that demonstrates the power of the fingers, shoulders, head and heart. This beautiful home can be given and taken. Chasms can rip through the earth with the quake of her arms, or drawn together. Such power in beauty. Hey! Sorry I got a little carried but would you be up for Nat, Wanda or Carol being taken by a new recruit that instantly has an effect on the whole place. And they slowly realised it’s not the nature based magic they are entranced by, though it is pretty cool. Thanks lovely! 💜

A/N: Since I just changed my entire theme to flowers, it seemed like a good day to write this, and I used the entire first part of the request as part of this series, hope you don’t mind

Word Count: 1, 688

It's in the flower beds that are delicately fed, watered and weeded each day. The collections of succulents, spider-plants, cacti that litter the common areas and half of the surface area in her bedroom. It's the healing of her touch. The warmth of her hands, often dirt clad or clutching the dead heads of her bushes. The calm of the small patches of grass cut for purpose or the rest she wants to grow wild, swaying in the breeze. It's the undercurrent through the soil and clay that demonstrates the power of the fingers, shoulders, head and heart. This beautiful home can be given and taken, chasms can rip through the earth with the quake of her arms, or drawn together.

There was more power in beauty than Natasha ever thought there could be, she was completely entranced by the way you tended to the garden in the balcony of the compound. The redhead couldn’t tear her eyes away from you, your hair was let down, the tresses gently falling off your shoulder as you examined the plants. You wore a casual, white blouse, the top of it tied together stylishly, paired with faded, light blue jeggings, a pastel blue bomber jacket with the sleeves rolled up.

It was the most casual outfit anyone could expect, but you looked absolutely stunning in it. Natasha admired you from the kitchen, head propped up on her elbow, her rust colored hair let down and rested behind her shoulders.

“You’ve been here for a long time.” Steve commented, sitting down next to her with a cup of coffee, Natasha startled slightly at his arrival but regained her composure, stealing a glance at you before turning to look at him.

The redhead glanced at the clock, he was right, she had been sitting in the same spot for over half an hour, she shrugged and stole a sip of his coffee before returning her gaze to you. Steve smirked a little, he wore a tight, light blue, short sleeved t shirt and navy blue jeans.

“Didn’t have anything to do.” Natasha commented, putting the coffee down and scrunching her nose when she realized he had put too much sugar in it.

“Or you were just too busy staring at the new recruit.” Sam commented, walking inside, he wore an army green t-shirt and black jeans with black vans.

“She is pretty.” Steve muttered into his coffee, smirking when Natasha glared at him for the comment.

“Bet you 20 Nat won’t ask her out.” Sam stated, sitting next to Natasha so the redhead still had a full view of the balcony you were tending to.

“Deal,” Steve said, shaking Sam’s hand and laughing.

Natasha scowled at both of them before making her way over to you, fully aware of their gazes at her back. The redhead couldn’t help but fidget when she approached you, green eyes flitting to the ground before you turned around to face her.

“Hi.” You greeted happily, hand caressing the bud of a red rose, eye/color eyes glinting in the sunlight of the balcony.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Nat asked, trying to act conversational. You shrugged and gestured to the rose bud in your hand, which was growing from a light brown to a rust red.

“Gardening.” You answered, kneeling down and tending to the rest of the dead flowers.

“I’d told Sam to water these while I was on a mission.” You muttered, brushing hair/color hair behind your shoulders to get a better view.

“It’s Sam, what did you expect?” Natasha joked, watching in awe as the dead, beige roses turned into a rust red.

“I guess you’re right.” You chuckled, tending to the rest of the roses before deciding to prune them.

You lifted up your sharp secateurs and asked Natasha to hold on top of the roses so you could cut them correctly. The redhead did as instructed, careful not to get cut by the thorns as you carefully cut the best roses off, taking all of them with glove hands and grinning at Natasha.

“Thanks for the help.” You smiled, Natasha lost hold of one of the roses accidentally while you were taking them, muttering a curse word in russian when blood started to seep from her left thumb.

“Sorry, I’ll help you with that, just give me a second.” You apologized, walking hurriedly inside with Natasha following you and trying to get the bleeding to stop.

You set the roses down on the table, quickly running off and getting a few bandaids and paper towels. You missed the way Sam and Steve were smirking at Natasha from over their coffees when you returned, holding her hand in yours gently while trying to stop the bleeding.

“I’m really sorry about this.” You apologized, wincing when the paper towel turns red every time, missing the way Natasha was staring at you.

“It’s just a cut.” Natasha reassured, clenching her jaw to distract herself from your gentle touch.

“Still,” You muttered, taking a bandaid out of the box you had gotten and wrapping her thumb in it, smiling softly at her before returning the objects and coming back to her.

“So you can take out buildings with a flick of your wrist but you can’t bear it when Natasha gets a cut?” Sam asked, you rolled your eyes and took the flowers from the table, moving to the kitchen counter to cut off the bottom with scissors.

“It’s the same way you can take helicopters out but can’t bear thunderstorms.” You quipped, Steve barely bit back a laugh as Sam scowled at him, Natasha couldn’t help but laugh at the statement.

Natasha moved to help you with the roses, mostly watching as you carefully tied them together with some string you had found and set them in a vase, the buds pointing towards Steve and Sam whose eyes were wide at how gorgeous the roses were.

“Explain to me why you aren’t a florist?” Steve asked, you smirked and moved to stand between the vase and Natasha, leaning back against the counter.

“Because SHIELD would rather have me helping others than running a florist shop.” You answered, Steve shrugged in defeat and went back to his newspaper, bickering with Sam about a football match as you turned to Natasha.

“Hey, it matches your hair.” You commented, reaching out and lifting a strand of hair, smiling up at her before letting go. Natasha nodded, tilting her head to see the roses better, it was exactly her hair color.

“Did you do that on purpose?” She asked, smirking when you flustered slightly.

“Maybe,” You answered, shrugging, you moved to engage in the conversation Steve was in before Natasha spoke to you.

“Uh, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?” Natasha asked hopefully, heart pounding in her chest as she thought of possible answers.

“I’d love to,” You answered, giving her an award winning smile as you looked up at her. Natasha breathed a sigh of relief before continuing, a smile slowly growing on her face.

“Great, I’ll meet you at the front door at 6:45?” Natasha asked, almost timid.

“It’s a date,” You grinned up at her, you glanced at the clock and saw you had to go to train, excusing yourself politely and pecking Natasha’s cheek as you left.

Natasha grinned to herself, laughing when she saw Sam grumbling and passing Steve a twenty dollar bill. She leaned one hand against the counter, examining the rose buds with one hand, comparing them to her hair. It was almost uncanny how you’d gotten the shade perfectly. She was touched that you'd grown the flowers for her, she didn’t stop staring at them until Sam forced her to go on a run with him.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

6:45 couldn’t come quickly enough, Natasha had gone to her room at 6:00 to get ready. She spent more time getting ready for a date with you than she had for any Gala before.

She picked out an emerald green, off-shoulder dress which complimented her eyes perfectly, her hair resting on her shoulders in soft, rust colored waves. Her eye makeup was perfect, a silver winged eyeliner with silver eyeshadow. Her neck and ears were adorned with silver jewelry, the pendants complimented her dress. The entire outfit paired with pine colored heels.

Natasha had gone to the meeting spot almost 5 minutes early, fidgeting with her silver clutch as she waited for you to arrive.

“Sorry I’m late.” You apologized, one arm behind your back as you approached her, Natasha’s jaw almost dropped at how good you looked.

You wore a favourite/color, body-con which went down to just below your knees, your neck and ears covered with gold and favourite/color jewelry. You wore similar colored high heels and held a small gold clutch to top the outfit off.

“It’s fine,” Natasha said, eyes widening at you. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks, you look gorgeous.” You complimented, one hand still held behind your back, Natasha frowned lightly at the action.

“Care to share?” Natasha asked, gesturing to what you were holding behind your back.

You grinned shyly and showed her the bouquet from this morning in your hands. The rust colored roses were wrapped up in an emerald green bouquet holder, the buds were enormous.

“Wow.” She gasped, accepting the roses gingerly, scared of messing them up.

“I thought you might like it.” You said shyly, smiling at her.

Natasha grinned softly and held the bouquet in one hand, gently grasping your elbow in the other hand and leaning in to kiss your cheek, her hair brushing your neck lightly. You tensed slightly, eyes wide as a prominent blush spread across your face.

“I love it.” She whispered in your ear, breath tickling the shell of your ear as she pulled away.

You were at a loss for words as you looked down at the ground. Natasha laughed and offered you her elbow, you took it and let her lead you to her car, talking the entire way of the night to come. The entire date, Natasha was completely entranced by you, you were absolutely gorgeous, her heart leapt when you mentioned the prospect of a second date, Natasha could barely wait.

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: Tell me what you think!

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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years

Text

I Wear Your Winter Coat (The One You Love To Wear)

Read on AO3

The moon is high in the sky bright and shining, hell you can even see a few more stars than usual in between the city lights. The air’s not too cold just a nice chill that her big black jacket covered in patches and a few old clothes pins keeps away. There are clouds in the distance, but they’re hours away from causing any trouble. She has no magic shows lined up and she and John have agreed to at least a week of fun, they’ve earned it after everything that’s been on their plate lately. It’s the perfect, easy kind of night to go out and do something. So of course, Nick wants absolutely nothing to do with it.

“Oh come on mate, we took out three whole rabid vampire nests the past week. Not to mention the shows Zee’s been putting on. We agreed to a week off,” Constantine says as Nick declines so much as a dinner before he heads back to the brownstone.

“You both agreed to that,” he says turning to look at the two of them. “I have some research I want to do.” Zatanna sighs and steps away from John’s side to lay a gentle hand on Nick’s shoulder. Research seems to be his only past time these days, a past time that more and more so lately he doesn’t seem to want to share with them and it’s starting to worry her.

“You know you’re allowed to have fun, right?” she says with an encouraging smile. He brushes her hand off and shrugs.

“I have plenty of fun, see you two later,” he says without even entertaining the possibility of staying already turning around to leave. Zatanna watches him go, trying hard not to let Nick’s concerning behavior ruin her high spirits. John steps up next to her tossing his arm across her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her hair and immediately she starts to feel at ease again. For all his brashness sometimes John Constantine can be incredibly soothing. For her at least, most others probably wouldn’t agree with that statement.

“How about you help me pick out a new jacket? Seeing as you’re the reason I don’t have one anymore,” John says with a smirk watching as Nick saunters off around the corner leaving them to it.

Zatanna slips out from under John’s arm to stand in front of him mood completely restored with a bright, innocent smile on her lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says tugging at the jacket that was once his. She stuffs her hands into the pockets shimmying her shoulders playfully.

“Of course you don’t,” he says rolling his eyes fondly as he reaches out a hand to fix the collar of the jacket.

“Not a clue,” she says leaning in to place a quick light kiss on his cheek his stubble a little rough, but grounding beneath her lips. He scrunches up his face at the action, but she knows he’s secretly pleased. They may have been flirting from day one, but this thing between them is still new. It’s sweet even if they’re moving at high speed most of the time.

John loops his arm through hers entangling their fingers together inside her pocket before pulling her along down the street as he chuckles at her playful denial.

An hour and a half later they’re practically buried in a pile of coats and jackets in a small shop with Zatanna forcing every single one of them, no matter how ridiculous, onto John.

They start off simple enough with a classic black leather jacket with a few unnecessary buckles here and there that he looks great in, but he complains about the buckles purposely flicking himself in the face with one. A simple black bomber jacket is next.

“You look like Shaun of the Dead,” Zatanna says scrutinizing the look. The loose red tie, the white shirt and black pants, add in the fact that there’s a high chance any given day of him ending up covered in blood spatter and he’ll be the living embodiment of the character.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he says as he pulls the zipper all the way up to his neck.

“It is for me,” she says unzipping it immediately. No disrespect to Simon Pegg but she doesn’t need to hear movie quote quips while they’re out fighting for their lives on top of his usual snark.

John huffs but concedes moving on to the next jacket. A bit later she gets him in a long purple coat with the collar turned up.

“I look like Harry Potter,” he says scrunching up his nose.

Zatanna snorts, “I don’t think you know what Harry Potter looks like.”

Personally she thinks it looks good on him, even if it clashes with the tie, but she can tell from the displeased look on his face there’s no way he’s going to budge.

The yellow leather jacket he tries on next has extreme Freddie Mercury vibes, but this particular bisexual man isn’t pulling it off quite as well and the green fur one that comes after that, well Zatanna just wanted to laugh and point and call him Oscar the Grouch she didn’t actually think it would look good.

“If you get this one, it’ll definitely distract from your personality,” Zatanna jokes with a big smile looking at John in the mirror when they move on to the next possibility. He turns in the horrendously loud jacket and glares at her.

The coat lands at a bit below waist high, it’s technically black but there’s so many rhinestones, random neon numbers and a large patch of a gold and silver tiger on the back that any subtlety it could have flies right out the window instantly. It’s hilarious and tacky and it’s Zatanna’s favorite jacket she’s ever seen.

“I am a fucking delight,” he says a little loudly, catching the startled attention of the poor shop girl who’s been putting up with them. She’s seemingly not asked them to leave yet because she genuinely believes they intend to make a purchase. Which they will theoretically after Zatanna’s had her share of laughs that is.

Zatanna snorts which quickly turns into giggles as she continues facing on John’s glare in the mirror. He rips the jacket off tossing it into the chair Zatanna has been occupying for most of this fashion show and reaches into his pants pocket. He gets the cigarette barely halfway to his mouth before the shopgirl is rushing over and snatching it from his hand.

“No smoking in here, sir,” she says sternly handing the cigarette to Zatanna who it seems she has determined is the logical one between the two of them. Which is a great and accurate observation. “Also please do not throw the merchandise.”

She huffs and walks away from them grabbing the hideous jacket from the chair as she goes.

“Alright we gotta wrap this up before that girl kills us,” Zatanna says pocketing the cigarette and trying not to laugh some more.

“I just need something simple,” John says wandering over to the wall in the back that houses the shops normal everyday looking coats. “Something easy to clean and easy to replace, cause fuck knows I get dirty.” He says looking back and winking at Zatanna, she just rolls her eyes.

John shifts through a few more hangers before he makes a triumphant sound pulling a knee length tan jacket from the rack. It’s a trench coat of all things, he slips it on easily as he walks back over to the mirror.

“Whaddya think?” he asks flipping up the collar. Zatanna steps up behind him looking him over. He looks pretty good, definitely better than most men would look in one. She thinks he might be pulling it off in a completely non-creepy way which Zatanna has never seen a man do.

She walks around him a couple times surveying as he tugs at the wrists smoothing them out.

“I think,” she says as she stops behind him lifting up to rest her chin on his shoulder and meet his eyes in the mirror. “You are the first man in history to successfully not look like a creepy flasher in a trench coat.”

John meets her eyes in the mirror and gives her that flirtatious smirk she’s so used to.

“Thanks love,” he says twisting the price tag. “This one’s actually in my price range too.”

John turns around jostling her from her comfortable position on his shoulder and threads their fingers together walking over to the main counter. The shop girl looks beyond relieved when they check out happily taking John’s money and more or less stressing in her fake chipper goodbye that they never come back to this particular store.

Zatanna feels a little bad, she wishes stores had tip jars to at least pay the girl a bit extra for her troubles. They step outside finding that during their shopping not so spree the far away clouds from earlier have turned the pleasant weather into rain. John pushes the door open holding it for her. He steps out behind her ripping the tag from the coat and tossing it into a puddle.

They huddle together and move down a bit out of the eyeline of the shop girl while still staying dry under the awning.

“It’s a good thing I got the new coat,” he says reaching into Zatanna’s pocket and grabbing the cigarette she’d been handed by the shop girl. He holds out his hand to her. “Make a run for the pub?” he says gesturing in the general vicinity of where a pub they’ve taken to frequenting sits a few streets over.

“One second,” she says standing in front of him. She grips the lapels of his coat and closes her eyes.

“What’re you doing?” he asks the unlit cigarette muffling his words just a bit.

“Hush,” she says refocusing on the task at hand. She mumbles a few backwards words of protection and luck under her breath feeling the crackle of magic at her fingers as it seeps into the coat. She opens her eyes just as it glows for a second the magic settling in.

“It’s not bulletproofed or anything, but it should keep you a little safer, maybe even bring you a little more luck now,” she says with a smile looking up at him. John just shakes his head a little look of disbelief moving across his face. He pulls the cigarette from his lips and puts his hands on each side of her face gently.

“I’m already more bloody lucky than I deserve,” he says. He leans in kissing her soundly not giving her a chance to say anything in defense of himself. She gets lost in it, in him, like she does so often these days, not feeling a thing except for the warmth of his body against her and that constant taste of smoke that lingers on his lips that she’s grown to love. The moment is broken however when a large bang on the glass behind them tears them apart. The girl from the shop is on the other side her hand still pressed to the glass a frustrated look on her face.

John starts laughing putting the cigarette back between his lips and Zatanna follows suit not being able to hide her amusement. She grabs his hand and tugs him out into the rain. They rush down a bit before they find another awning to huddle under. It’s much smaller than the one in front of the shop the rain still whipping in and hitting them. John tugs his jacket off and lifts it over top of them as a makeshift umbrella fighting off the rain that’s sneaking in.

He tilts his head gesturing for Zatanna to move in closer and she does, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Want to see if we can wait it out?” she says speaking a little louder so he can hear her over the bouncing of rain on the awning above.

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine right here,” he says putting his arm around her as best as he can while still holding up the jacket. He seems to remember the cigarette still between his teeth then looking down at it.

Zatanna snaps her fingers saying a quiet ‘erif’ under her breath. An orange flame comes to life at the tip of her index finger and she lifts it up lighting the cigarette for him, he smiles in thanks taking a deep inhale. She pulls it from his lips taking a rare drag of her own as well blowing it out into the rain.

“The jacket really does suit you,” she says looking up at the piece of clothing and putting the cigarette back between his lips. “I think you’ve found your signature look.”

“It’s no fishnet and corset, but I think I can make it work,” he says with a smirk forming around his cigarette looking her up and down hungrily.

Zatanna just huffs a bit snuggling in closer against him and under the trench coat watching the rain fall steady around them.

#my fic #john constantine #zatanna zatara #johnzee

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meetthetank · 3 years

Text

Starved

Rating: General AudiencesArchive Warning: No Archive Warnings ApplyCategory: F/M Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Relationships: Steve Burnside/Claire Redfield, Steve Burnside & Alexia Ashford (kind of) Characters: Steve Burnside, Claire Redfield, Alexia Ashford (kind of), Jill Valentine Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Post RE Rev2, Therapy Group - Freeform, Read A/N for more context, Steve is a sad sad man who missed out on A Lot, Angst, Subtle love languages Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232369 Summary: Months after being rescued from his second island prison, Steve Burnside tries to adjust to a normal life while dealing with the scars left both physically and mentally. Luckily, he has some help. Notes: Sooooooooo here's the thing. There were worms in my brain. Real bad. So this is like... a manifestation of a longfic that I want to write later down the road. Some things to know before going in. 1) Steve revived on an island meant to store "failed" B.O.W. experiments that was left abandoned. He was there for a year and some change. 2) Allie is a child clone of Alexia who was in the same facility and befriended him. They live together and Steve is her legal guardian. 3) Jill runs a victims of B.O.W. experimentation which includes Steve, Manuela, Sherry, herself, and some others. I think that's everything but if yall have anymore questions feel free to ask. This is incredibly self indulgent to write but I hope you guys enjoy it too.

“Please stop pacing,” Allie sighs, “You look like a caged beast.”

Steve glares at the child, a clone of the insane woman who killed him, as she sips her tea at the other side of their flat. She glares back, her hazel eyes sharp as ever. She’s waiting for him to retort so she can shoot him down with a smart ass remark like a shark circling a drowning bird. When all she gets is an indignant huff she sips her tea and rolls her eyes.

“You do this every time she comes over. If she didn’t run away at the first sight of your ghastly visage she’s not going to run now.”

Steve sighs, “Yeah, but-“

“What absurd thing are you putting in your own head this time?” Allie snaps, setting her dainty pink teacup next to her stuffed dragon, “You’re going to stink up the room if you think too hard.”

He tunes out the insults with a scowl, but Steve knows the kid is right. He’s thinking way too much about this. Claire didn’t run away screaming the first time they met since he came back, she’s not going to do it for the seventh.

Even still, as Steve passes by the mirror in the front room he jumps at his own reflection. The person inside doesn’t look like him, it doesn’t feel like him. Their ginger hair isn’t wild and tangled, it’s washed, brushed and tied up in a small ponytail. Their shocking green eyes aren’t sunken into their sockets, and there’s a splash of red sunburn on their skin. He can even see a smattering of freckles across their nose and cheeks. They look like a stranger, but the deep, ragged scars across his face remind him of his past. The biggest and ugliest of the marks starts well above his hairline, drops down over his right eye and curls over his lips. A few smaller ones run across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, but they aren’t nearly as deep.

He always thought scars were sexy when he was a kid. Manly. The marks of some action hero or badass. Now they just… Make him look tired and scared.

A small hand grabs onto one of his. “Did you take your medicine today?” Allie asks without a trace of her previous vitriol.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m out of the anxiety pills. Ms. Valentine said she’s going to bring them over when she comes to pick you up.”

“Okay.” Allie says with a curt nod.

“You got everything for your field trip?” Steve meanders over to the kitchen again, eager to change the subject.

“Can I have some spending money?”

He raises an eyebrow, “How much and what for?”

“Fifty for museum books.” Allie puts her hands on her hips and glares up at her guardian with defiance sparkling in her eyes.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, “Twenty.”

Allie lifts her chin, “Forty-five.”

“Thirty.”

“Forty-five and I buy you a cool rock from the Natural History Museum.”

“Deal.”

With negotiations done (and Steve down forty-five bucks) the only thing left to do is wait. He switches the tv on to drown out his own thoughts. Some hockey game. It’s not his team so he doesn’t care too much, but it’s a comforting familiarity. At least sports didn’t change too much since ‘98.

Steve let’s himself zone out as much as he can to the game. At one point he thinks about getting a beer but decides against it. He’d probably have one or two with Claire at dinner. That, and his meds don’t mix well with alcohol if he hasn’t eaten. So instead he bounces his leg, bites his nails, and busies his hands with whatever he can reach.

Did he used to be like this? It’s hard for him to remember past his awakening and even harder to think past Rockfort. He was a neurotic mess out of necessity on the Storage Facility Island, a place where any sound could be death, and Rockfort was a similar story with the addition of his teenage bravado, but before he was taken? He barely remembers what his parents looked like, let alone what social masks he had to put on. Steve lets out a long, quiet sigh. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s like this now, and that’s all he needs to know. At least now he has a support system.

Just as Steve starts to calm down, the doorbell rings.

He jumps out of his chair and bolts to the front door, heart in his throat and stomach upside down. His hands begin to shake as he reaches for the knob-

“Hi, Steve.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs, a bit too loudly judging by the way the visitor raises an eyebrow, “Hey, Jill.”

She gives him a warm, knowing smile as she fumbles with her shoulder bag. “Claire coming over today?”

“Yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, “That easy to tell?”

Jill laughs, “Careful now, Redfields can smell fear.” She hands him a paper bag from the local drugstore, “Here. I know you said you were out of the anxiety meds, but I got everything refilled for you.”

“Oh! Uh, thanks!” He tosses the bag across the room to the chair he had just left. “So what museums are you hitting today?”

“All depends on our little cruise director.” Jill says with a small laugh, “Speaking of-”

Allie brushes past Steve, the charms on her backpack jingling with each step. “Air and Space and Botanical Gardens! Oh, and Natural History too. I promised I’d buy Steve a cool rock.”

“Easily bribed, I see.” Jill smirks at him quickly, then turns her attention back to Allie, “Sounds like a deal, kiddo.”

Eager to get on her way, Allie all but jumps out of the door and runs to where two more members of their little therapy group, Manuela and Sherry, wait. Both women greet her with smiles and hugs, and she wastes no time in launching into sharing things she had learned since the last time they had spoken.

“I’d stick around,” Jill says as she backtracks to the group, “But I feel like if I wait any longer there’s going to be a mutiny.”

The rumbling of a motorcycle echoes down the street, and Jill turns back to Steve with a quick smirk.

“Besides, you have company.”

Jill darts over to the group, casting a wave back to Steve and over to the biker before motioning to the ladies to begin their trek. Steve watches with wide eyes and a thundering heart as the biker dismounts and pulls off their helmet, revealing short auburn hair and stunning blue eyes. She gathers up a few plastic bags from her bike before jogging over to him, while he stands there like a deer in headlights.

“Hey, Steve!” She says with a bright, radiant smile and shoves some of her bags in his hands.

“W- Hey, Claire.” He fumbles with the grocery bags, “What’s all this?”

“Dinner. Figured making our own burgers would be better than ordering out.” Claire explains and shuffles inside the door as Steve moves aside for her. “And more fun.”

Though Steve can’t deny her claim, he also can’t fight the apprehension that coils in his stomach. He can cook, sure, he had to or die on the island, but he has no idea how to use any of the kitchen gadgets Jill’s group and Terra-Save set him up with. None of it is as simple as a slapdash firepit and some scraps of metal. Maybe if he’s lucky Claire will know what to do and he can just chop vegetables or something. The last thing he wants to do is make more of a fool of himself.

“Uh, sure!” He blinks his thoughts away, shuts the door and retrieves his bag of medicine from the chair.

By the time Steve turns back towards his kitchen, Claire is already busy setting up groceries and making herself at home. He watches her take off her heavy bomber jacket, revealing a thinner red and black flannel, and set it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table. She drops her plastic bags on the counter and grabs a beer out of his fridge; she looks like she’s been coming here for months. Something about the image before him makes Steve’s chest tighten. He’s not sure if it’s a bad feeling or not.

“-Steve?”

“Huh?” He snaps out of his stupor with a jolt.

Claire wiggles the opened bottle in her hand, “Did you want one?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” He stammers and rubs the back of his neck but walks across the room to take the beer. Maybe he did need something to settle his nerves after all.

Claire smiles at him like she’s known him all his life, like she knows what’s going on in his head and she understands why he’s so awkward and nervous around her. What was it that Jill said before? Redfields can smell fear? He knows it’s a joke but the way Claire seems to understand his fidgeting and hesitation leaves him wondering if there’s some kind of truth to it. A few gulps of beer (technically a hard cider, his first beer made him vomit) gives him enough bravado to at least go into the small kitchen with her.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask him to work any of the gadgets. Claire’s hands glide over buttons and knobs, setting temperatures on his stove and placing pans. She directs Steve to break the ingredients out of the bags. Ground beef, cheese, brioche buns, vegetables, and a myriad of spices.

“This is a lot for just burgers, isn’t it?” He asks, mouth full of stolen tomato.

“Come on now, you know I wouldn’t do just burgers.” Claire laughs a bit, a sound that makes Steve’s heart stop. “This is an ancient Redfield family recipe.”

“Should I be worried?” Steve can’t help but smile back. She has this way about her that makes him feel lighter, like everything takes a backseat to just… being around her. He can joke, come out of his shell a little. She won’t hurt him.

Claire giggles at him, “It’s the way our dad used to make them. Chris held onto the secret ingredient till he was… Thirty something I think. I basically had to interrogate him for it.”

He raises an eyebrow and grins devilishly, “So...what’s the secret?”

“Oh, just a blend of spices.” She shrugs, “Nothing that inventive. But it’s special to Chris, so don’t go telling him I told you.”

Claire winks at him then turns back to mashing the ground beef into patties, leaving Steve to gawk at her. She’s delightfully impish when she wants to be, he can see himself getting into all sorts of flirtatious teasing matches with her… if he weren’t so weird. She directs him to chop up the tomatoes and onions after she catches him staring, again with a playful smirk and slug to his shoulder.

Something he had to become good at while on that remote island, alone aside from Allie and the wild B.O.Ws, was how to observe. The more he watches Claire out of his peripheral, the more she reveals to him. He watches the way her face falls as she focuses on the burger patties, as if she gets lost in her own thoughts and forgets where she is for a split second. It isn’t hard for him to see the sadness she hides from the world, it’s the same kind as one he carries. The reason Steve still roots for his hockey team, or even still watches the sport is because it reminds him of his dad. It’s the last connection he still has to his late father, and of a time mostly lost to him. He feels more special than he should that Claire would choose to share something like that with him.

Suddenly a sharp pain shoots up Steve’s arm. He drops the knife, now streaked with red and pulls his hand close to his chest with a hiss. His heart races and his eyes dart around, searching for other dangers in the area. Anything might be lurking in the shadows waiting to take advantage of his weakness. He scans back and forth for threats, eyes wide and alert. Nothing catches his attention except-

“Steve?! What happened?”

Claire drops her own knife and rushes over to him overcome with worry, but stops in her tracks when Steve backs away from her. He looks like a frightened animal, eyes wild and darting to anything that moves even the slightest bit.

“Did you cut your hand open?”

Her voice is soft and gentle as she approaches, hands low and outstretched to him. She doesn’t step closer, she waits for him to bridge the gap. Steve can see the caution in her face. Like she’s trying to coax a stray kitten out of hiding.

It works.

“Y-yeah,” Steve says, dropping the tension in his body a little. “I uh, wasn’t paying attention and… I guess it slipped.”

He opens his hand enough for Claire to see the small streaks of red that pool beneath his thumb. It’s superficial, barely deep enough to scar. The virus would already be hard at work stitching the burst blood vessels together, but he should still clean and bandage it. He has a bad habit of picking at the scaly scabs that form over wounds.

“Are you okay?” Claire asks, taking a small step forward. The gap between them is barely a foot wide. “That looks like it’s bleeding a lot.”

As Steve starts to relax further, Claire’s fingertips brush against his hand for a split second. The shock is enough to send him reeling back, his heart leaping into his throat. His instincts tell him to run and hide or fight his way to a safe place. Somehow he finds the self control to speak.

“No!” He yelps, loud enough to startle Claire. He lowers his voice but takes another step back. “No, I got it. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t stick around long. He can’t bear the worried, somewhat hurt, look on Claire’s face. Steve hurries into the bathroom around the corner and shuts the door before the fear and guilt tear him to pieces from the inside out. With trembling hands he turns on the sink faucet and lets icy water run over his open wound. It stings a little, but nothing he can’t endure. The excess blood trickles down the drain and vanishes in seconds. Just as he thought, the cut isn’t deep at all. That eases his anxieties somewhat, but not enough to stop the oncoming panic attack. Before it overtakes him, he wraps a washcloth around his hand to contain the blood as best he can.

Steve sinks to the floor and puts his head between his knees. It’s a struggle but he forces himself to take deep even breaths, just like Jill had taught the group. Though his head still spins, it helps to calm his heartbeat enough that it doesn’t feel like he’s about to have a heart attack. The trembling stops once he lets his consciousness fade to survival mode; he only thinks about his breathing and that he is safe.

Claire isn’t going to hurt him. No one is. He’s safe here. He’s safe with her.

Claire isn’t going to hurt him.

The world slows down, finally. Steve isn’t sure how long he’s been here but it can’t have been too long. Claire hasn’t come knocking on the door looking for him yet, and the savory scents of meat and spices being seared drifts in from the kitchen. His stomach tightens at the smell, helping to distract him further. Though his whole body feels heavy and drained of energy, Steve finds the strength to push himself to his feet once again. He cleans the now dried blood off of his hand, sloppily wraps his hand with a bandage, and dumps the rag he was holding into the wastebin before leaving the sanctuary of the bathroom.

When Steve returns to the kitchen, he expects Claire to rush at him and assault him with questions, but the only question is in her eyes. Wide, blue, and deeply worried about him. She doesn’t say anything or move to approach him, she only watches and waits for him to be ready. The way her brow creases and turns upwards at the ends make her look guilty, and that sends a pain through his gut he can’t identify right away.

“All good.” He announces, showing off his slapdash bandages. “It’s not deep. Just wanna keep it from getting dirty. And keep myself from picking at a scab.”

Claire looks at him with such intensity that Steve almost shrinks back from her gaze. It’s like she’s staring right through him.

“You sure?” she asks, keeping her voice low and gentle.

The genuine worry throws Steve for a loop. “Yeah.” He flashes her a wry, lopsided smile full of false confidence; as if he didn’t just have a panic attack. “I’ve had a lot worse.”

Claire studies him for a moment, then scoffs and shakes her head. A small grin finally appears on her face and it takes his breath away. “Yeah, I was there for some of those.”

She turns back to finishing up dinner. A shadow crosses her face as she grills the burger buns as a final touch, but it’s gone in a flash. Steve busies himself with getting drinks and plates, and thinking of something to say that might distract Claire from whatever sadness is eating away at her.

“You’ve had a lot worse than that.” He says with a grin, and immediately regrets it. Why did he think it’d be a good idea to bring back those kinds of memories?!

But Claire turns around and smiles broadly at him. “Oh you have no idea.” She drops a plate of burgers and a plate of toppings on the table, then as if to give Steve another heart attack, she props her leg up on the chair and rolls up one of her pant legs. A long, wide scar follows the length of her toned calf. Tan with age and wear, it stands out against her pale skin.

“This was from the Tyrant in Raccoon City.” She smirks, almost proud of her scar. “I was lucky it didn’t hit bone with how deep it was.”

There’s an edge to her voice, testing him. Teasing him. Steve grins. If Claire wants to have a scar battle, then he’s more than happy to show off.

He points to the largest scar on his face, “I got this from-...” Shit, he can’t tell her it was from falling down a mountain. That’s not cool. “...I got it from this big… Turtle thing.”

Claire raises an eyebrow at him, “Turtle thing?”

The lie spins out of control in his head, faster than he can stop. “Yeah! It was like...a big armored reptile B.O.W. Had these nasty claws for diggin’ in the ground. I got too close to it and it swatted at me. I’m lucky I didn’t lose this eye.”

He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest a bit. He can’t pinpoint why showing off his trauma like this makes him happy. Maybe he’s just happy to share it at all. It doesn’t matter to him now. Claire is smiling. He’s smiling.

They go back and forth, showing each other their scars and places where bones were broken while eating homemade burgers and fries. Claire shocks Steve with just how many scars and injuries she suffered over her years of fighting bioterrorism, and he astounds her with his stories of his misadventures on the B.O.W. storage island and his encounters with all manner of beasts. Watching her listen to him with such fervor and interest almost makes him forget how horrific it all was. It helps in a weird way.

But that changes in an instant.

When it’s his turn to point out a scar and tell a story, he stops thinking. He lifts up his shirt, exposing the most gruesome scar on his body with an excited grin. A scar that stretches from his collarbone and disappears beneath the waistband of his pants, with dots alongside it on either side. Instead of a jagged outline like the scars left by accidents and B.O.W’s, this one is straight, clean. Surgical.

“This one was from when they autopsied me.” He explains, far too excited about the grim display he presents Claire. “It still itches like hell where the staples were-”

Steve snaps to reality once he looks up to see Claire’s awestruck face. Instead of excitement, it’s horror. Her hands cover her mouth and her eyes, brimming with barely restrained tears, lock onto his stomach and a wound so old he had almost forgotten about it. Beneath the autopsy scar, beneath the scars from man-made beasts, there’s a circular mark a similar color to the scar on Claire’s leg. It’s old, faded, but still aches from how deep the tissue reaches inside him. The gravity of the old wound may be lost on him, buried under the countless others that mar his body, but it’s fresh and raw to Claire.

He hastily pulls his shirt down, “Shit- I’m sorry, I didn’t-... I forgot that…” There’s nothing he can say that will ease her mind. He reaches out to her with one hand, stopping just by her arm before pulling back and sinking back into his chair. Another muttered apology falls from his lips as he hangs his head in shame.

He doesn’t notice Claire get up and cross the gap to him. Not until she takes a knee in front of him and brushes his unruly hair out of his eyes.

Claire’s touch is feather light and tender, but even that sends shocks through his skin. It jolts him out of his shamed stupor, and Claire pulls her hand back a few inches. Her expression is something he can’t make out. Somewhere between pity, sadness, and guilt. Before Steve can properly figure out what she’s thinking (something he’s never been good at) Claire runs her thumb across the large scar on his face, slowly and gently. He doesn’t flinch away from her this time. Then, something mundane yet earth shattering to this broken man out of time happens. Claire cups his scarred, stubble covered cheek in her hand.

Something breaks within him. A dam he didn’t know existed anymore that kept everything back, every trauma, every broken piece of him; some of which he didn’t even know were broken. Claire’s hand, her warm hand marred by callouses but still soft despite it all, molds to the contours of his face. There’s such tenderness, unrestrained kindness in her eyes and her touch and he can’t fathom how it can be directed to him. He doesn’t notice the tears in his eyes until they spill over.

Steve tries to calm himself with deep breaths but they come out stuttered and shaking. His shoulders heave, a lump in his throat chokes him. He screws his eyes shut, trying to shut out the vision of someone caring about him that deeply, but she’s still there. He can still see those piercing blue eyes boring into his soul and reading him like an open book. The moment Steve opens his eyes he sees the blurred outline of Claire Redfield wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He wants to yell at her to leave, to tell her that he’s a lost cause and there’s no helping him. He’s too damaged, too broken. He’ll never have a normal life. He’ll never be able to pretend he isn’t a monster. He will never be able to have meaningful relationships. But all that comes out of his mouth is a broken, choked sob. Someone is touching him, someone cares about him. And he can’t understand it.

Despite himself, Steve pulls Claire into a tight embrace and sobs into her shoulder. Her fingers run through his hair, while her other hand rubs his quaking back. Steve can’t stem the tears, that’s a feat that even a mighty Redfield can’t achieve, but he can’t deny that simply being in Claire’s arms replaces despair with a strange warmth. For the first time he can remember, he feels...safe.

Eventually, the tears stop, and Steve is able to breath easily again. Claire doesn’t let him go for a minute and for that he silently thanks her. It isn’t until he begins to pull away that she too lets her arms down and pulls back from him.

“I’m sorry…” he mutters, wiping the stray tears from his eyes, “I don’t-”

“Shut up.” Claire commands and takes Steve’s hands from his face. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Darkness crosses her face for a moment. “I should be the one apologizing… I know you-... It’s hard after a while, not being… Not having human contact like that for a while. It’s not something they tell you about in therapy.”

Steve shakes his head, “I needed it. I really… Really did.” He sighs, “I...I didn’t know how much I...everything… still hurts.”

With that same kind smile, Claire leans forward and kisses his forehead. “It takes a lot of strength to admit you’re hurting that much. Give yourself some credit.”

“Maybe…” he says with a sad smile. “... Thank you, Claire. For everything.”

She takes his hand in hers, tracing the callouses and scars with her thumb. “Thank you for coming back.”

#Steve Burnside #Claire Redfield #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #tank fics #Holy shit yall i had the brainworms bad

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curiousconch · 3 years

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Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Series Synopsis: Dr. Heather Song, Edenbrook’s newest diagnostician, gets embroiled in a plot of revenge against Boston’s top politician. Together with FBI Special Agent Rafael Aveiro and rising star prosecutor, Bryce Lahela, they try to uncover a web of conspiracies far greater than their imagination. Can they stop the attack in time? Or will their entangled hearts eventually become caught up in the crossfire?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) x Bryce Lahela

Words: 1.3k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / implied violence

Author's notes: I'd like to thank the following for inspiring me to do this series:

@eleanorbloom - her awesome works made me see that there’s so much more to Bryce Lahela than being a meathead and a scalpel jockey

@kat-tia801 - for the captivating AU worlds she built with her TRR series, please check her works here.

Finally, @alwaysmychoices - the same emotion you put into the stories of Charlie & Ethan is something I aspire to achieve with the characters of this fanfic series.

Without these talented writers, I wouldn't be able to get this work out to the world.

PROLOGUE

"Here's the copy of the MRI you requested for Room 502, doctor," a blonde nurse dropped an envelope on the pile already in front of her.

"Thanks Kaley," she smiled and nodded briefly from the patient charts she was finishing in the nurse's station, her brunette bangs slightly rustling at the sudden movement.

She went back to the mountain of paper work she was trying to finish, her Johns Hopkins Montblanc pen squiqqling as she went. On the bottom of the last page, she wrote her full name: Dr. Heather Song, along with her medical license number.

She opened the envelope containing the scan results, and examined the writings on the sheet of paper. No tumors - meaning that the patient's headaches were probably caused by a genetic, albeit irritating migraine. She prescribed a relaxant, and handed it to Danny, along with the rest of the clipboards.

She bit her lower lip as she tapped on her fitbit: 8:39 pm - another 14 hour shift. It was another day at work in the diagnostics team. Thankfully, she loved her job, so she has no complaints for the long hours.

Scrolling, she checked the rest of her messages. Her frown turned into a smile as she read out a text from her boyfriend:

I'm done for the day. Pick you up in 20 minutes?

She took out her phone from the pocket of her white coat and texted him back, agreeing to the said rendezvous.

With a friendly nod to the night shift nurses, she stood up and walked towards the Diagnostics office, her white sneakers squeaking along with her steps. With the door behind her hissing closed, she went to her table and retrieved her sling bag. She shoved her ID badge and her phone inside, while she shutdown her PC. She retouched her lip gloss before shrugging off her coat, revealing a blue crew neck shirt, neatly tucked into her dark jeans.

She freed her shoulder length hair from the tight bun that she usually wears at work and brushed off the few loose strands. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her belongings and stepped out of the empty room, making her way towards the elevator bay.

As she walked through Edenbrook's ground floor hallways, her pale skin glowed against the fluorescent lights. She crossed the atrium and bid her goodbye to Bobby, the hospital's security guard, then went outside, into the cold night air.

A green bomber jacket caught her sight, and her heart immediately skipped a beat. The tall, dark figure had a backpack slung on his left shoulder, his right foot tapping along a mental beat.

"Hey, handsome," Heather slung her arm around Rafael's, tiptoeing to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Missed me?"

Rafael chuckled, as his eyes glistened in the dark, humming in agreement. He returned the compliment with a quick peck on her lips.

He gazed down at her, "Hungry, Dr. Song?"

Heather nodded in excitement. She loved his cooking, but she missed the gelateria near his place.

Fond memories flooded her, making her smile.

A year ago, Rafael first whisked her away to the same Italian ice cream shop to decompress, seeing how stressed she was with the investigation. It was the night after she called in Travis Perry to the authorities.

Ed Farrugia was just one of those patients her team took in to increase Edenbrook's struggling funds. He was Massachusetts' most popular Senator, and the media mileage he gave the hospital prevented it from going under.

But what they first thought as just another day in the job took a turn when Heather diagnosed the politician's illness as lead poisoning. By midday, she was able to confirm that the chemical element was not coming from his newly-purchased house. A quick search engine lookup returned a suspicious article about Travis, his aide. Not wanting to make conclusions without concrete evidence, she raised her own suspicions with her mentors, Dr. Ramsey and Chief Banerji. Collectively, they decided that the best course of action was to quietly alert the authorities.

That day was the first time Rafael walked into the hospital's hallways. He got assigned to the case once Dr. Naveen called the FBI Boston field office. Rafael's discreet but valiant efforts foiled the perpetrator's sinister plans - of releasing a deadly airborne poison into the hospital room of the unknowing Senator.

He was able to stop the attack and prevented deaths, including Heather's. They later found out that the attacker wanted to take revenge on her due to her earlier attempts to treat the senator. Travis Perry admitted to sprinkling lead in the politician's assorted drinks over the years.

With the criminal charges filed and the case handed over to the district attorney's office, they were able to focus on the budding attraction between them. Several dates and a couple of samba lessons later, it bloomed into a full-on romance.

Heather easily fell for him. He was an easy guy to love. His ways are simple, uncomplicated.

He was a welcome reverie from the chaos of her first year as a junior fellow of Edenbrook's premier Diagnostics Team. It was Rafael's sweet charms that made the unbearable, bearable. His tenacity to crack the cases he was assigned to matched her own. But his motive - of always being more than willing to serve others and his community, regardless of danger, never failed to amaze her.

When they became an item, his whole community took her in. It was a sincere group of people consisted of his grandmother, his colleagues, and the elderly at the senior center where he volunteered. Rafael also frequently hung out with Heather's friends. Sienna, Elijah, Aurora and even Jackie were nothing but supportive of their relationship.

Snapping out of her head space with a gentle nudge from Rafael, they began to leave the front steps of Edenbrook. They hadn't walked far when a familiar voice calling her name stopped them in their tracks.

'Heather. Dr. Heather Song!"

Both turning around, they saw a tall man approaching them hurriedly. She had to raise her head to gaze at him as he neared.

"ADA Lahela," she saluted him in a greeting. She gave him a polite smile, letting Rafael go briefly to shake the hand of the man in the gray suit. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Something very urgent. I wouldn't spoil your RnR, but this really can't wait until tomorrow." Bryce Lahela, the rising star of the Boston's District Attorney's office, nodded back at Raf, catching his breathe. "Ah, Agent Aveiro, hi. I believe this also very much concerns you." he also waved at Rafael, a hint of unsteadiness in his voice.

She tried to recall the last time she saw Bryce. It was 3 months ago, on the last day of the trial of Travis Perry. The fierce young lawyer eagerly took on the case of Senator Farrugia, who single-handedly put Perry behind bars for the rest of his life.

Her head perked a little, sensing the quick falter in the young prosecutor's greeting. She waved off his apology, expressing she didn't mind the intrusion. She trusted him enough to make the judgment that this couldn't wait. They were friends after all.

"There's been a new development in the Ed Farrugia case," the assistant district attorney clutched his leather shoulder bag and pulled out a peculiar looking paper. "Someone sent a blank message to my office email address an hour ago, it included this file attachment," he handed the page to Heather, a look of concern crossing his face.

Beside her, Raf tensed.

The black and white printout, with words spelled from cutouts of magazines, knotted Heather's stomach in a million ways.

It's not over, Dr. Song.

The sinister note made her skin crawl, unleashing a wave of terror within her.

She immediately knew right then that the mirage of her quiet life threatened to crumble. She just didn't know how much.

Tagging also @choicesficwriterscreations for #fics of the week.

Chapter 1 to be posted tomorrow.

#open heart #open heart 2 #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #rafael aveiro #Rafael x MC #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #rafael aveiro x mc #bryce lahela x mc #fics of the week

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askroahmmythril · 3 years

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Reference List for amiibo Fighter Names (Set 4)

37) Pichu : Zap Nezumi - Those who have been with my channel for awhile might remember a cute and charming Mega Man style game called Nezumiman. I love that game so much and would love to see a sequel. Squeakuel?... Anyway. Most of the bosses were dubbed (Element) Nezumi, depending on their power. So Pichu gets to fill in as Zap Nezumi! Up top we have all the various stage bosses, and Pichu is dressed in all the fashion items Nezumiman gets for beating them. He’s got Perfect Fashion! Which according to Nezumiman, also involves having Dr. Gyoniku’s butt in the background.

38) Pikachu : Agent 25 - Actually a self reference, this one. Agent 25 is a “character” that has appeared in some of my silly bits I’ve done for past videos. Theoretically his real name is Conduit, my Lv. 100 Pikachu, but he serves as an agent for me, going by the codename Agent 25 (his Pokédex number), protecting me from annoying talent agents trying to zap me with a dragon prod for taking time off. We went with a full-on James Bond style for this one. A minor detail, the display of PokéBalls in the nameplate having five empty circles before it is supposed to reference the display showing how many Pokémon a trainer has in a battle, thus, he’s the only one here.

39) Pit : Icarusicus - What can I say, I grew up with Captain N as a kid. Back then, as a gamer, you took whatever media you could get. Captain N was cheesy as heck, and got a lot of source details WAY wrong, but it was still fun in its own weird way. In that cartoon, Pit was instead simply named Kid Icarus, and had a habit of inserting “-icus” at the end of everything he said. So here the more modern Pit is faced with a blast from the past, his cartoony old weapons and contact from Kevin and Princess Lana. Neo added more details, like some Mega Man sprites recolored and restyled to look like characters in Captain N. Including a Simon Belmont sprite given his look from the cartoon, blue bomber jacket and blond hair and all. The building shown is the Palace of Power, Princess Lana’s base of operations.

40) Pokémon Trainer : RedVersion - Again a self contained reference to Pokémon. The trainer he’s based on is Red as he appears in Fire Red and Leaf Green. Thus, RedVersion, in reference to the original Red Version of Pokémon. Neo and I both had the idea to try to pose the Pokemon and Red himself like how they’re posed in the original game sprites. Neo also went an extra step, using minimalist colors to mimic how the sprites looked on a Game Boy Color or Super Game Boy. While I do like the idea, I might ask to stick with full color just to mimic the amiibo itself if we do indeed redo these. The overall look of the card was designed to look somewhat like the original Pokédex.

41) Robin : ShipREKT - Again, Fire Emblem is not exactly my area of expertise. But this silly idea came to mind, knowing Robin’s game has a lot of “pairing people up to increase bonds” mechanics. Sooooo Shipping : The Game. So I just had the silly idea of drawing him in super charming anime style. Of all things, I think I was largely influenced by a scene from the Unova episodes of Pokémon where a male Minccino was using Charm. I suppose this is a good time to mention that, in cases where only one figure was released for a character, I go with that style for them, so for instance, there’s only a male Robin card, only a female Wii Fit Trainer card, no wireframe Little Mac, no Koopalings, etc.

42) ROB : Spin Cycle - I mean, ROB’s all about spinning his gyros, that’s really all there is to this one. The colored swirl in the background was supposed to mimic the red and blue colors of the gates from Gyromite that he’d help you move. However, it also kinda looks like the colors of those infamous Tide pods. Which... I mean, spin cycle IS a laundry term, so yay accidental references?...

43) Rosalina : Cosmic Mama - I love Katamari! Seriously given that was a Namco game, I would have loved it if some Katamari music got in on the Pac-Man stage. Ah well. This was one of those where I just couldn’t resist the reference and sneaking the Half Inch Prince into the picture. Neo further personalized some of the Lumas, as well as adding the famous “I feel it! I feel the cosmos!” quote.

44) Samus : Chozen One - A self contained Metroid reference, and a silly pun. Samus is the “Chosen One” in the sense that a lot of Chozo prophecies as seen in the Prime series seem to center around her actions. So just a combination of Chosen and Chozo. I had worried that Samus would be hard to draw in Visio Home, but it turned out to be really good for drawing the defined lines of her suit.

45) Sheik : HARP HERO - While I’ve never actually played any of the Guitar Hero games, the fact that Sheik generally just follows you around to teach you new songs via her harp made this idea stick with me. A shame she doesn’t use her harp for anything in Smash... Seriously feels weird that she doesn’t. Anyway, I had the track display the notation for Bolero of Fire. For some reason, the scene of her teaching you this one just stuck with me as a kid as one of the most iconic scenes with her. This was also drawn before we started putting character icons in the nameplates. In his version, Neo added the Sheikah eye symbol to the nameplate.

46) Shulk : RA1NFALL - This is a reference to Project Rainfall, a community effort to coax publishers into localizing a few select games in the US. If memory serves, Xenoblade Chronicles was the first and perhaps most prominent game to have been part of this effort, hence my putting a 1 in the name. I didn’t really have a good solid way of drawing rain in Visio Home, so Neo added that on his end. Really this one probably saw the most changes between versions, as I really had very limited info on Xenoblade. My frame as such is.... really clunky looking. Neo was able to make something far better looking on his version. The symbol on Shulk’s Monado here means “rain,” so, uh.... umbrella utility!

47) Sonic : SpeedRacer - A reference to the anime of the same name. Sonic here is posed like Speed after he jumps out of the Mach Five during the Speed Racer title sequence. Meanwhile Sonic’s car here is the one he drives in Sonic All Stars Racing Transformed, as well as being on the game’s Starlight Carnival track. Neo gave me the idea to have a Coconuts peeking out of the trunk of the car to mimic Chim-Chim, the monkey mascot of the Speed Racer team that had a habit of stowing away in Speed’s trunk while he was racing.

48) King Dedede : ThreeDeDe - A joke on 3D imagery, such as that found on the Nintendo 3DS. The first Kirby game for the 3DS, Triple Deluxe, even had a mode where you played as King Dedede on his own adventure, so hey, him celebrating this moment of glory does not seem out of character for him.

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

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Midnight Hours

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Summary: For you, being a good witch was easier said than done. Something dark was lurking inside of you and the others knew it. When you’re forced to tag along with Soomi and help a local wolfpack face a coming evil, you’re sent on a path that breaks into a crossroads. While you struggle with your inner demons, could the wolf Sehun be the key to your ultimate fate?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I 17 I Final

Sehun was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the pull, overwhelmed by his circumstances, and most of all, overwhelmed by you. He’d sworn that he would just ignore it for now, but that was proving to be impossible. Each time he came close, he was consumed by your scent, egged on by it to just give and taste you, drink you in until he was finally satisfied. But he couldn’t. He was still holding back. Still resistant to the idea of being tied to someone forever. There was nothing wrong with you. Hell, he was even beginning to think that you were nearly perfect for him. However, the idea of being mated… it didn’t scare him necessarily, but he couldn’t give in to it. Not yet.

There was no answer as to why. It was simply part of being a wolf, something that he’d known would happen eventually. But he still held back. Even as he came so close to falling apart.

The garage had been the first time that Sehun had almost lost the grip on his wolf he’d worked so hard on to control. Talking to you - hearing your voice - was something that he enjoyed more than he’d expected. Then you mentioned seeing a white wolf in your vision and his heart began to fight to be free from its cage. Before he knew it, his muscles were pushing him up to his feet and eliminating the space between the two of you. It was only when he could feel your breath and body heat against his skin that he came back to his senses. He pulled away and went about his business like it had never occurred in the first place. A scoff left your lips, but Sehun didn’t even flinch. He’d once again regained the upper hand on his own actions and that was all that mattered.

However, that upperhand was slowly crumbling away again. For the past few months, whenever a group made up of mates and wolves had mentioned going to town or grabbing something to eat, Sehun had declined, preferring not to be in the middle of that kind of atmosphere. When Dana and Kyungsoo had stopped by Kris’ garage where he was helping out for the day, they’d wanted to invite Sehun along with them. He was ready to say no once again. Until Dana got a text and said out loud that you and Harper were to be joining as well. The word “yes” was out of Sehun’s mouth before he could even think it over.

Keeping an attitude of disinterest - as per his usual method of keeping control - Sehun was both relieved and irritated when you weren’t sitting in his direct eyeline at the restaurant. The empty seat across the table taunted him, mocked him. His eyes drifted back and forth between the chair and you on the end. Occasionally, your eyes would meet and Sehun would feel his heart rate rise. You quickly looked away, the focus on the chips and salsa in front of you a bit too obvious, a bit too forced. When Dana’s friend Mina finally showed up, things took a turn that he hadn’t expected. Certainly one he didn’t want.

All the flirtation and attention was making Sehun uncomfortable. Mina didn’t seem to pick up on the lack of response and that grated on Sehun’s nerves. He was starting to wish he’d stayed back at the shop. Only the glass of water spilling all over her lap seemed to stop her attempts at securing a date from him. It was relief, one that was making him consider an escape before the food would arrive.

While everyone else fussed over Mina’s wet lap, Sehun looked to you, wanting to know if he could sense how you felt about the whole thing. As soon as he met your eyes, he knew. How you were able to do something like that he only just learned a few minutes ago. To be honest, he was impressed. The fact that his mate could do something like that….

He shook his head. You weren’t entirely his mate, not completely. The pull was there, that couldn’t be argued. But you weren’t his. Not in that sense, at least. Not on the level that he could call you his. Should he-

Sehun picked up a handful of dead leaves and threw them at the river to stop that thought before it could finish. The leaves landed softly on the water’s surface and slowly drifted along with the current. A few, too full of holes, filled up with water, causing the leaves to be pulled down into the river where they were caught on the rocks resting at the bottom. Dirt stuck to his palms and clung to the space underneath his fingernails. For several minutes, he stared at the black specs that covered his hand. A painful ache was developing behind his eyes for how hard he was furrowing his brows. But the tension didn’t ease up. He had too much on his mind.

The sounds of the crunching forest floor as you ran back to the house were still echoing in his ears. He wanted to go after, apologize for making you leave in the first place. Maybe even tell you the truth. He wondered how you would react when he finally told you - and, yes, it was a matter of “when” not if. The rope that he was holding onto was unraveling. Soon he would fall. The only question left was this: would you be waiting for him at the bottom or would he land on the concrete, broken and bruised?

You were back in the living room, staring at nothing, bored once again. The forest was no longer an option to you since you knew your feet would probably go searching for Sehun. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but you had a feeling that the words wouldn’t come out in quite that way. Groaning, you fell back onto the couch, a wish to have something to occupy your mind. At this point, you would even accept a new vision just to have something to do. You’d given up trying to put together the ones you’d already received. They were simply fragments that would never fit together in their current state.

“Hey.”

Blinking, you sat up to see who’d joined your lonely existence. Harper stood off to the side, arms crossed over her chest.

She certainly looked the part of someone who had spent years training, learning to kill creatures of the supernatural kind. The sleeves of her gray-green bomber jacket were pushed up to her elbows, exposing tiny scars on her otherwise perfect skin, and her tight pants looked like they had enough give to let her run or jump or perform any other movements that might be necessary. From her posture to her stance, she gave off an air that whispered the kind of confidence that didn’t need to be constantly shoved in anyone’s face. It was there, end of story.

“Hey,” you greeted back with a quiet voice.

She pointed to the open space next to you on the couch. “Mind if I sit there?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

With a soft nod, Harper sat next you, pulling her feet up and under her. She didn’t say anything for a while, her eyes wandering around the living room. You tried to find something to say. It was uncomfortable, the air suffocating you. It would be rude to just get up and walk out after she’d asked to sit with you so escape wasn’t exactly an option. Besides, you didn’t mind Harper, in fact you liked her from the small time you’d spent with her. It was just the awkwardness hanging between you.

“Can I ask you something?” Harper finally spoke up. Once again, you picked at your cubicles, fairly certain of what she wanted to know. But you nodded anyway. “Why did you make the glass tip over?”

The phrasing of the question took you by surprise. You looked at Harper with wide eyes. Over and over, you opened your mouth just to close it again in an instance.

“It wasn’t that hard to put together,” Harper chuckled. “But you don’t have to worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

It wasn’t, really, since Sehun knew as well, but you had a small amount of faith that he wasn’t going to say anything to anyone. “I didn’t mean to do it. Things like that just sort of... happen.” You didn’t really want to go into detail about your powers and your life for the second time that day. It was exhausting to explain and the others didn’t give you the same open feeling that Sehun did. “I was just annoyed, so....” You mimed the glass tipping over.

Harper made a face. “Yeah, Mina was kind of… a lot. It was a nice change of pace after that happened.”

You laughed. “That’s an understatement.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure how those two are friends. Dana is so sweet.”

“Maybe there’s something there that we don’t see?” you offered up. You weren’t sure why you were giving Mina a defense, but out it came anyway. Maybe it was because you were used to others judging you so quickly.

“True,” Harper agreed with a nod. “Then again, we all have different sides to us, don’t we?”

“Some of us more than others,” you agreed. Taking a deep breath, you took a risk. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“How do you survive here?” You wanted to slap your own forehead for how you phrased it. Too blunt, too forward.

“It’s hard,” she admitted. “Some still don’t trust me. But having people on your side helps.”

“Like Luhan?”

Harper smiled. It softened everything about her face, making the hunter melt away and bringing the loving mate to the surface. “Yes, like Luhan. But Hae In and Lottie have helped, too. Friends are just as important.”

“So, basically, you’re saying make friends?” It made sense. Only having one person to rely on when you felt so alone was draining. And Soomi was often off doing her own research with Junmyeon and Kita. She couldn’t be by your side twenty-four-seven and you certainly didn’t want that either.

“If you want one.”

The offer was right there on the table. And you were eager to take it.

At the smile broadening across your face, Harper jumped up from the couch. “Come on,” she urged. “I don’t think you spent enough time in town today. Luhan’s working tonight and I think we can score a few drinks. What do you say?”

What did you say? Yes. Yes, yes, yes! It sounded exactly like the kind of night you needed. A night spent not thinking about Sehun or your powers or whatever the hell was supposed to be coming for you or the pack was surely an answer to your prayer.

Pushing yourself up from the couch, you said, “Let’s go.”

Harper threw an arm around your shoulders and the two of you walked out of that house as if you’d been friends for years. Part of you thought for a second that you should tell Soomi where you were going, but you decided not to. You were with Harper so you would be more than fine.

When you came back from the bar it was about two in the morning. Luhan had driven the two of you home since neither you nor Harper were in any condition to drive.

Soomi was furious. Luhan had texted the others almost as soon as you arrived at the bar so they knew where you were, but that didn’t mean she was okay with your decision to leave without saying something to her first. She lectured behind you all the way up the stairs. You were sleepy thanks to the drinks you and Harper had bonded over and really just wanted to go to bed. Hardly any of her words were actively storing in your mind. Too much was going on in there to really focus on her, anyway. Down in the living room, Sehun had been leaning up against the wall, frowning at you in a disapproving manner. What did he care what you did with your own time?

Thankfully, your tipsy brain didn’t allow you to think about this since almost as soon as you hit the bed, you were out. But it wasn’t a peaceful rest.

You were back in the forest that you’ve visited before in your previous visions. The trees that surrounded you were all too familiar even if the clearing that you stood in wasn’t. A pale hand gently gripped your shoulder, urging you on. You weren’t sure how you could tell what the person behind you was trying to make you do, but you did. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the wisps of blonde strands blowing in the wind. You didn’t turn around to see the face that the hair and the hand belonged to. Instead, your focus was honed in on the fallen logs and trees that were scattered around the clearing.

The hand squeezed your shoulder in a way to signal to you. You raised your arm, your own hand stretched out, fingers taunt and stiff.

“Think of hate,” the voice behind you commanded. “Think of your pain.”

You obeyed. You could feel the ache in your chest rising up as if it were real, happening to you in that moment. Your eyes swelled with tears as you remembered all the times that you were ostracized, judged, ridiculed. All of that manifested itself in your powers. You could feel the surge building up in your hand, begging to be released.

“Good,” came the whisper. “Now let it go. You are so full of potential. Don’t hold back and see what you can do.”

The wood in front of you burst into flames. They weren’t tiny flickers or small, dancing fires dotted here and there. They were the kind that roared dangerously, on the verge of raging out of control. You could feel the heat even though you thought you were a safe distance away. Beads of sweat grew on your face. They slid down your cheeks and dripped from your jaw to land on your shirt and exposed collarbone. You flinched back as little sparks of ash jumped out from the glowing logs, rising into the air before dying out.

Laughing erupted behind you. It was maniacal, like from a madwoman who’d spent years in an asylum and had finally broken free.

“(y/n)!”

You jumped forward in your bed, pulled from the dream by the new voice crying out for you. That was when you saw what you had done.

Fire surrounded your bed, trapping you within its circle. It grew in ferocity. Inching in closer and closer, the flames licked at the blanket that covered your legs and the frame that held up the mattress. Soomi stood on the other side of the room, terrified. Your own panic was rising. What had you done?

Crash!

The door to the room slammed open to reveal Sehun, a look of horror on his face as he took in the sight that he’d discovered. You tried to call out to him, but the smoke coated your throat, allowing you to do nothing besides cough to try and keep breathing. The fire was well over four feet high now. You had no chance of escape as they continued to grow.

Something in Sehun snapped into action. He ran to the other bed, ripping off the blanket before running back over to you. With the blanket held out in front of him, he jumped and wrapped you in the blanket as he tackled you over the flames and down to the floor. As soon as you were out of danger, he turned back around and smothered the fire with the blanket as quickly as he could.

More pack members arrived. They crowded the doorway with dropped jaws and wide eyes. Junmyeon and Kris pushed through them with buckets of water, extinguishing the fire for good.

In heavy breaths, Kris straightened up and looked around the room before his eyes settled on you down on the floor. “What the hell just happened?”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #sehun x reader #oh sehun #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo supernatural au #exo series #Midnight Hours #untamed wolf universe

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mrslackles · 4 years

Text

Thought you’d never ask.

2𝓍𝟣𝟣 – 𝑅ɪᴏ’𝓈 𝐿ᴏᴏᴋʙᴏᴏᴋ

Look #1

If there is anything you have come to know about me at this point, it’s that I love this man in a coat. The 1x09 coat? Exquisite. The 1x06 coat? A dream. The 1x07 Cosy Extreme™️ jacket? Wrap me up in it. If it’s soft and enrobing him, I’m into it. Or so I thought.

Why are there brown buttons on a blue coat? Why does it look like a cross between a jacket, a coat and a bathrobe? Why is it buttoned all the way to the top? Why does it look like he took it from his granddad’s closet? (Spot the difference, I dare you.) I like a thrifty king, but stealing from the elderly is where I draw the line.

For those keeping track, we have not seen Rio’s head since 2x09. He could be bald under there. He also hasn’t worn a beanie like a normal person since 2x07.

4.5/10

Look #2

Remember when I got excited about multiple angles on the 2x02 outfit? This episode said Hold my art hoe craft beer.

I will go to my deathbed wondering who tf these yuppies are that Rio is casually dapping up with.

I actually really admire Rio’s audacity bravery because I, myself, would never be able to climb into a Cadillac while wearing that beanie and my one pair of shoes. Respect.

Remember when I was shocked by the concept of his outfits travelling? Well, this time we get him in the same outfit in his fourth location:

It’s nothing special, just a variation on his 2x10 outfit by swapping in his second TJ Maxx jacket that also doesn’t pass my sandpaper test.

Rio is a constant Yanny/Laurel situation with his dark blues and blacks. From future episodes, I know this jacket is blue, but then it looks so black against this blue (?) beanie:

Sigh. He threw the shade-matching rulebook out the window last episode and clearly he is not interested in getting it back.

For those of you keeping track (we’re all doing so, right?), we haven’t seen Rio’s hands since 2x09 because he suddenly believes in winter, I guess, and so this is a momentous occasion:

Hands! Honestly he could’ve been couriering his own fingers for all we knew. And he’s wearing his iconic leather bracelets. (We have not had any jewelry action in a while.)

He’s obviously wearing his one pair of Converse (and oh, we’ll get to that in a second) with his jeans stacked. (Literally what was even happening with the roll-up in 2x08? Was he going through a Cool Dad phase? Oh, Rio.)

Also, quick question @ Squinty McSquinterson: Do you still have hair, sir? Did you dye it all blond? Are the tops of your ears recovering from frostbite? Did you piss off your barber? #BeaniesMustFall

5.5/10

BONUS: Rio’s closet

Hooooboy, this episode we were blessed. For so long we’ve judged the Crime Closet while only guessing at the contents of his normal wardrobe, but this episode took us into the fashionista’s sanctum sanctorum and it’s a rollercoaster, folks.

But, first, we have to do a rapid-fire round with these bonus outfits:

Matching his son (who of course looks fabulous) in blue and we can see his head. Jacket buttoned all the way up, though, and that same pair of Converse. 6/10

A black shirt even on a daytime trip with his family, but he is doing a very deliberate booty pop for the camera that is much appreciated. 8/10

Yet another beanie paired with the one bomber jacket he owns. Zero regard for matching Marcus or that they’re at the park and he looks like the Grim Reaper. 7/10

But... is that the only bomber jacket he owns? Gird your loins.

WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?! There are leather jackets, there’s a linen jacket (??), there are beige shirts, there are white shirts, there are light blue shirts. There’s even a pinstripe shirt?? Where is he wearing these items to?? Clearly not on days out with his son and even his date shirt was dark green, so honestly wtf?

His favourite bar-matching red shirt is also nowhere to be found. Is the Crime Closet literally in a whole different space? Does Rio secretly work at a hedge fund? Not to be the ‘I told you so’ person, but I did tell you we couldn’t trust him.

I’m SICKENED by this shoe display. You mean to tell me that the man who has worn the same three (3) pairs of shoes over 21 episodes owns dress boots? Chukkas? Several pairs?!?! I am disgusted and appalled. The only solace this gives me is that there are two pairs of Converse (plus the ones he’s wearing) here, so at least he’s been rotating them out and not just wearing that same pair in every scene in every episode. I do question whether he knows that shoes come in other colours?

...Apparently he knows jeans do??

I find it pretty hilarious that there’s a whole stack just for black jeans (and sweaters!), but I question where he is wearing those blue jeans to? Are they being paired with the linen jacket? What is the meaning of life?

I’m also horrified to learn that he owns several grey cashmere sweaters but could not deign to wear one to either of the pictured days with his son when Marcus was wearing grey. Do better, Rio. (Is it weird to anyone else that he owns stacks of the exact same item? Who shops this way? And keeps them all together like that? Adrian Monk would approve of this closet.)

Also, I would like to know who I can sue for never having shown us Rio in one of his cashmere sweaters. I need this visual for research purposes. Also, where is the underwear drawer?

And because I guess this experience hasn’t been dizzying enough, we’re presented with these watches:

I-- truly and honestly don’t know where to start. A yellow leather band?! Square faces?! Also, the black leather bracelets would like to know where these watches have been the entire season? They’ve been pulling the entire accessory load while these have just been sitting here in his bedside table? Is Rio scared of getting robbed? Because his arm piece would definitely be the thing of value, not the Cadillac or gold gun. Is he afraid people will judge him for having old-man coats and watches? WHAT IS HAPPENING.

8/10 -- for sheer WTF value

And speaking of WTF...

Rio’s Lookbook: Home Edition

#NBC Good Girls #Manny Montana #Rio's Fits #Good Girls Bad Garments #the beanie is the number 1 characteristic of Rio's Blue Period #who do I have to throw money at to see Rio in a sweater jeans and chukkas?#honestly the shoes got me the most while making this #they're so NICE #and formal wtf #Rich Bitch Rio really CAME THROUGH this episode #also sorry so long #but there was A LOT to cover #and I figured this is one of the last ones so why not y'know

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cocastyle · 4 years

Text

Wonderwall - Prologue

Pairing - Steve Harrington x reader

Word Count - 1,709

A/N - I’m so excited for this Stranger Things rewrite series! It and Stranger Things are like my favorite movie/show right now and I loved writing the In-Between so I cant wait to write this! I hope you all enjoy this and if you haven’t checked out my It rewrite or the In-Between (a stranger things x it crossover) go do that now and let me know what you think in the comments!

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

W O N D E R W A L L

Intro Prologue Season One 1 2

* - * - * - * - *

0 | Prologue

* - * - * - * - *

The first thing Y/N Hopper registered when she finally came to was that she was in a world of pain. It was as if her whole body was on fire, every inch of her burning at an agonizingly slow pace that only made it more painful as the seconds ticked by.

The next thing she noticed was that her muscles felt as if they were ten times heavier than usual making each movement slower than she would have liked. Even her eyelids felt heavy to the point where she could barely open them, only being able to get a sliver of light in before her head suddenly burst into agonizing pain while her eyelids screamed to be shut.

Y/N let out a low groan that vibrated against the rawness of her dry throat, instantly halting her in the middle of her actions. She tried to move her head slightly only resulting in her head rolling over limply until it slumped to one side.

But then it was like her senses all came back at once, hitting her in the face so hard that she couldn't stop herself from letting another groan escape her lips. She could hear the low rumbling of a car engine, feel the roughness of the worn out material that made up the backseat of her father's 1976 station wagon, and smell — that's when it hit her.

A strong smell of metallic with a very vague scent of gasoline lingering within. But the metallic, it was definitely there.

Y/N somehow managed to get her eyes to start slowly blinking open, each blink making her head hurt and her vision spin all around her. The first thing she did was glance down at her hands, a small whimper escaping her lips at the red that painted her fingers, staining the skin below.

Then she was looking up, her eyes fixating on the sight before her. Her parents who were limply leaning forward in their seats unconscious. She couldn't see her mother because of the fact that she was sitting in front of her, but the pool of blood that had begun to drop onto the middle console from that direction told Y/N all she needed to know.

She wanted to cry, but her eyes were already flickering over to her father who had a huge gash in his head from where the broken glass of the window shield had cut him. The air bag laid deflated in front of him and it was only then that she noticed the way her father's neck seemed to be hanging at an odd angle.

"Mom? Dad?" Y/N whispered, wanting nothing more than for them to answer her cries. But there was no response and that was enough to make the young girl's lip quiver as tears began to blind her vision.

The last thing Y/N wanted to do was look to her left, but she found herself doing it anyways and it was like her blood had run cold. She didn't know what she had been expecting when she turned to look in the spot where her brother had been sitting in minutes prior, but seeing the empty blood covered seat with the door of the car swaying gently in the wind was nothing that she could've dreamed of.

"Thomas?" Y/N whispered, her voice coming out so soft that it was almost brushed away by the wind. She was finally starting to snap out of the dizziness and weariness that had been clouding her vision and her voice came out louder this time, more panicked, as she cried out, "Thomas!"

The tears were falling by now and Y/N let out a small sob as she weakly fell back against her seat, her body hurting too much to put any more effort into moving. She tried to remember the events that had led up to that very moment, but it all was coming back in fragments that made her want to think it wasn't real.

The last clear memory she had was of them leaving her Uncle Jim's house. They had been on their way back from a family vacation on the outskirts of Indiana and had decided to stop by and visit her father's brother on their way home to Kentucky. Uncle Jim had never really known how to act around kids, so the whole reunion had been awkward and had felt like it lasted forever on both sides. The last thing she could picture was getting into the car while her Uncle Jim gave them a short wave in goodbye before disappearing back into his house.

From there, everything came back in fragments. The family driving through Hawkins, the town her Uncle Jim lives in. Her bickering with her twin about which of the Star Wars movies was better although she couldn't remember who had won. The family laughing about something before their laughs had fallen short.

Y/N looking out at the road ahead, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sight of a dark figure standing in the middle of the road. Then after that, all she could hear was the crashing of the car as glass flew all around her. Then she heard the screams of her family, her mother's falling quiet real quick as a shard of glass broke off from the window and hit her in the throat. Y/N's own screams as she had attempted to reach out for her twin, Thomas looking back at her with wide eyes full of fright before the car finally stopped rolling and hit the ground, everything going black.

However, none of that explained what had happened to Thomas and Y/N began to cry as she looked to her brother's seat which had bloody handprints on it as if he had been struggling to stay in the car but something had pulled him out.

By the time the police arrived on the scene, Y/N was in complete shock, her body shaking so violently that if anyone didn't realize she was in shock they would've thought she were having a seizure. Jim Hopper was the one that managed to get to his niece first. His eyes vaguely scanning over the front row of the car before stopping on Y/N who was breathing frantically as she gasped for air.

Hopper was quick to grab onto Y/N’s shoulders, lightly shaking the girl as he tried to get her attention so he could help her. He ignored the amount of sweat that was making his hands stick to her wet shirt that was not only covered in sweat, but a mixture of her own blood from her wounds as well.

"Y/N. Hey, kid. Look at me. Look at me," Hopper pleaded, his eyes frantically flickering over the girl's face as he watched her stare into oblivion. When the girl didn't answer, Hopper carefully grabbed onto the girl’s face and turned her head so that her e/c eyes were forced to latch onto the man in front of her.

Upon recognizing just who was holding onto her, Y/N let out a whimper and whispered, "Uncle Jim?"

"It's me, kid. I'm here. You're okay now," he assured her as he tried his best to soothe the upset girl before he would have to hand her over to the medics.

"Mom. Dad," Y/N said, not able to get anything else out other than those two words. Hopper gave the girl a grim look that made her close her eyes as a few tears rolled down. She then blinked them open before her e/c eyes locked onto her uncle. "Thomas," she whispered. "Where's Thomas? Where's my brother?"

Before Hopper could so much as blink, the girl's eyes suddenly rolled into the back of her head and she passed out. Hopper's eyes widened and he gently shook the girl before yelling out, "We need a medic! Help! Medic!"

He looked down at Y/N and gently shook her as he muttered, "Come on, kid. Stay with me. Wake up." Then, frustrated that no one had come running over yet, the officer yelled out, "We need a goddamn medic!" Two men then came running over to the car with a stretcher and Hopper got out of the way while the two men got to work on getting the girl out of the car.

While this went on, Hopper quickly went over to the other side of the car, his heart racing as he came face to face with the empty seat where his nephew was supposed to be. He spun around for a moment, his eyes scanning around for any sight of Thomas who might've managed to crawl away from the car in an attempt to find help. But when he came up empty handed, Hopper didn't hesitate to pick up his walkie talkie and radio back to the station.

"This is Chief Hopper. We've got a 10-57. I repeat a 10-57. The person is a young boy around the age of seventeen. Short brown hair, green eyes, and was last seen wearing a white shirt and a red bomber jacket. Answers to the name Thomas Hopper," Hopper said, his voice getting softer once he mentioned his nephew's name.

Even with his nephew missing and his brother and his wife dead, Hopper still found himself looking after Y/N who had been strapped to a stretcher which was now being loaded onto the ambulance. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her as he realized the gravity of the situation. Y/N was going to wake up to a completely new world.

Not only would the death of her parents be weighing upon her, but her own injuries would mean she was going to be in a lot of pain. And with her parents now gone, that meant the guardianship of both Y/N and Thomas fell to Hopper meaning that she would have to pick up what was left of her life in Kentucky and move to Hawkins to start anew.

But the news that would break her would come with when she opened her eyes to find out that her brother still hadn't been found. And that pain, the pain of knowing that her twin was hurt and missing somewhere, that would be more painful than anything else.

* * *

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zwiezraczek · 4 years

Text

Criminal - Chapter 8

Billy (viliain) x Female reader (cop)

Prologue/Chapter 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 - CHAPTER 4 - CHAPTER 5 - CHAPTER 6 - CHAPTER 7 - CHAPTER 8: And even I know this ain't smart - CHAPTER 9

SUMMARY: You always wanted to become a police officer. And you became one of them, brilliantly and they offered you your first case. “The Ghosts” case. The case of fleeting people and one sneaky bastard parkouring around the town to annoy you. You swore to yourself to catch him them.

WORDS: 1.9k

NOTE: An we’re back on a Friday schedule, yay! A strange week, abut here we are with a week-end and another week which will hopefully be a good one! I hope you’ll like this update!!! 💕

TAGLIST: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @natsficrecs @suckerfor-fanfics(leave a comment to be a part of it!) PERMANENT TAGLIST @suckerfor-fanfics (leave a comment to be a part of it!)

“Y/n? Y/n, you're here with us?” Jake's voice asked you as you snapped in again

It was the third time today. The third time that somebody had caught you thinking about something, something you couldn't share, so you told them it was about the case, your Ghosts case. And in a way, you weren't lying. You were thinking about Billy and his letters, Billy and his humor, Bill and the memory of his blue eyes, Billy and his blonde locks, Billy. At this point, you knew it had become an obsession to wait impatiently for your mail a week after you left the letter in the dumpster he indicated you – he hated when you called it the dumpster, he crossed the word a few times while replying to you and telling you that it wasn't a dumpster. But, it was a professional obsession, right?

It had totally helped you to sort things out, it had cleared your mind and your view on all the had done since you followed them. They had done many good, via very strange ways and methods but in the end their purposes seemed to be worthy. Not worthy killing so many, acting as outlaws and being hidden forever. You told Billy that you thought that their means were a bit harsh, but he told you that he wasn't the brain of these operations, only a pawn, a useful one but still a pawn. And he was certain that there was no other way of action, only being illegal allowed them to quickly dismantle all these dangerous groups. It was a risk that they had to take, as criminals.

A risk you surely wanted to avoid, by working with them.

“She's not here apparently,” said Gina as she put a hand on your shoulder. You absolutely zoned out again. Thinking about the case, and him.

“I'm here, I'm here,” you finally said with a smile on your face, “still working on my case but still here with you.”

“Apparently not with us, because you're not saying a word about your case lately,” Jake remarked and you bit your thumb. Damnit.

“I'm digging deeper into some things, with a new perspective, you know...”

“New perspective? Tell me more,” Gina said as she put her elbows on your desk.

“Well. The Ghosts are always striking at strategic points, their actions are always linked to a bigger picture it seems. All that we see are disconnected events, shootings, kidnappings, gang wars, but at the end there is always something big falling. Always, systematically. Just like in Russia the last time. We're not seeing the things as big as we should. We're always missing the final piece.”

“What do you mean,” you looked up at Jake who seemed a bit lost.

“They're doing basically our job, but without any morals and without any political limitation.”

“No shit way,” Gina whispered.

“You're joking y/n.”

“Not at all,” you said showing them a file in your computer filled with missions they had done in the past, “ look here. If we align their actions from the last few years, we have corresponding dismantling of some mafias in the country and even abroad. Their actions are linked in that way, they're not striking just to strike in a place, but it's all planned even more than we thought it was.”

“Damnit, y/n,” Gina whispered with her eyes still looking at the screen, “you're having something here. It's huge, the boss should know about it! You should tell him in order to make all the things work out again!”

“He's still pissed about the last mission I organized, you know,” you sighed. It wasn't your proudest moment, you had to admit. But, thanks to that moment you met Billy again... Focus, focus y/n. “And besides, he won't believe me. He'll tell me it's a happy coincidence, as everything I found on them so well... I'll keep working on that alone.”

“You can count on us, right Jake,” Gina asked as she looked up at Jake who nodded. “We're working together for years, I mean, at least in the same department, so if you need a hand just hit us up y/n!”

“That's lovely, thank you Gina,” you replied with a smile.

If they were about to work with you, you were screwed. Absolutely screwed. And knowing Gina, she would be there for you, obviously.

~~~~

The day you knew you screwed things up was when you had a day off and your mail came to the station.

But the worst part of your day off was that you spent it with Billy. Discussing. In a coffee shop. About things and others. You told him about your day off in the previous letters, and he decided that it would be a great opportunity to catch up together, as two normal individuals. And you didn't refuse trying to convince yourself that it was all because of the case, not because you found his jokes funny when he wrote them or when you slowly understood what they were doing, and mostly what he was doing to you and your poor heart. Your cat noticed it too.

When you saw him sitting with a cup of coffee in front of him your heart almost missed a beat. He wasn't wearing his signature hoodie, but a bomber golden jacket as he listened to some music and drummed with his fingers on the table, with his eyes closed. You truly thought about going back home, but he opened his eyes and waved at you. Shit. Breathe in, breathe out and smile.

You sat on the opposite side, looking at him as you took off your jacket. He was strangely silent. You were too. For a split second, you thought it was a trap and looked all around you, a bit nervously. You had your gun with you.

“I'm not trying to kidnap you, relax,” he said with a smirk, “keep that gun in your bag and I'm keeping mine in my pocket.”

“We said no guns today, what about our sight-duel,” you playfully asked.

“We both cheated because we don't trust each other enough, nemesises,” he concluded before sipping some coffee from his cup.

“Yeah, nemesises,” you repeated looking at him for a longer moment than intended before a man came to take your order.

“So, what's up? How's the whole investigation and the case?”

“Yes, I feel good too, nice of you to ask,” you replied as you rolled your eyes and smirked.

“How are you? Have you eaten today? Drank? Took care of yourself?” He asked you as he fluttered his eyelashes. You looked right into his green pearly eyes. Oh shit.

“I'm good, I haven't eaten yet, but I'll be drinking coffee right now, with the guy I should jail, so it's like fine I guess. And you? A casual day off, Billy?”

“I'm enjoying my time with the woman who wasn't first keen on bondage but now,” he started and you sighed knowingly.

“This joke has to stop, I can't do this anymore,” you complained as the waiter put the coffee right in front of you.

“You never tried,” he insisted and you gave him almost a death glare and he began to laugh, “fine, I'll try to stop with the whole bondage thing, but that's one of my best jokes so for so I was sticking to it!”

“I'm sure you can do way better, cocky Four,” you said before sipping some coffee from your cup.

“Yeah, always for such an ungrateful cop as you are. Sure.”

You chuckled, and then you talked. Probably more than intended. He was a funny guy, with beautiful hair and mesmerizing eyes. He was probably too nice to be true, and too nice to be genuine. However, you could tell he was.

But the real problem began when Gina found your mail and couldn't keep her hands to herself when she saw that the letter was from an unknown somebody from the city. And when she opened it, she knew she had to talk to you about it, immediately. So when you came to the station, all happy and sunny she was waiting for you, sitting at your desk with the letter open. And you smelt the rat. A big rat.

“How was your day off,” she asked you with a too wide smile.

“Nice... I guess... Why...?”

“Because you have some mail from Billy, he says that you're a funny cute cop, and that the Ghosts are planning new things. And oh, what the fuck with bondage?” For God's sake, not the bondage.

“Gina, follow me please, I can explain everything...”

“You sure have to, or I'm taking all of this to the boss,” she whispered as she got up.

You had to convince her that all of this, including the personal letter, was a trap set to catch them. That Billy never meant anything to you, that he wasn't even your friend. And these words hurt, especially after the afternoon you shared the previous day, talking about everything and anything and mostly not about the case.

He was just a lost guy who had it rough and who found his way now, by doing what he believed was right. You had it rough too, and wanted to make this world a better place. You were too similar to not get along well. And this was because of that that it did hurt so much to tell that to Gina. That he was only a pawn, you told him so many times that he shouldn't see himself like this yesterday and that he should believe in himself because he would rock this world. And somehow, you had appeased Gina, who had already told Jake about it. And you just hoped that this would end right there.

~~~~

“Our traitor's back online,” One greeted Four as he connected himself to their chatroom.

“Traitor,” Four repeated as he adjusted his headphones.

“Man, you're really trying to fuck our cover up,” Seven asked and Four began to sweat in his little crappy room.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The 'cute cop' date thing,” Two quoted and Four closed his eyes. He was probably screwed.

He knew that doing this for months wasn't the best idea, and he probably should have told the squad that you were there, in his house, and that he met you yesterday but no, it was his little secret mission. And even more.

“Oh, you mean my solo mission,” he asked carelessly. “I'm trying to save our asses here, no biggie...”

“No biggie,” One repeated sarcastically. “No biggie? Somebody heard your conversation in the coffee shop Four, you're trying to give us away? What's your fucking plan? You want us to kill you? Tell us!”

“Jesus, I'm fucking having it under control,” Four exclaimed. “She's wrapped around my finger, I'm basically trying to have a cop on our side so we won't be bothered!”

“And yeah, no other than the fucking girl, the cute cop leading our fucking case! Genius!”

“One, stay calm,” Two said in a plain tone. “We have to do something before they do.”

“They won't do anything,” Four interrupted her.

“Because of what? You being her boyfriend? Grow up Four, we're not in a fairytale.”

For a moment, he wished he was.

#ben hardy #6 underground #six underground #four x reader #four/billy

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aquaticalay · 4 years

Text

Centurion .Chapter Seven.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD

Warning/s for the chapter: mentions of PTSD, violence, death

Word count: 3.4k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :))) I'll post a new chapter every two days.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist!

(Taglist will be reblogged)

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO 'FOR SOMETHING GREATER.' IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT, THE MASTERLIST IS IN MY BIO.

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

Bucky had told you he was going to get back in a few hours— maybe an hour or two. The reason it would take so long was because a few military personnel from the US Navy and Marine Corps Reserve in Brooklyn had just teamed up with the NYPD to question him. They think this is a high level military threat, and they were right to think so. With Sam reported missing, you were betting every military base in not only in America, but all around the globe, was on high alert.

You couldn't wait for Bucky any longer. You had to see for yourself that he was okay.

You put on a dark green jacket and cargo pants, as well as taking your silver SEAL trident pin with you. You also put on Bucky's dog tags. Not only because you might need it, but for comfort, too.

You passed the avengers in their meeting room, as they called for an emergency meeting. You could not hear anything from the soundproof room.

You didn't want to disturb them, so you told Friday where you were going.

"Friday?" you called, "When the meeting is done, tell them I'm going to see Bucky."

"Will do," the AI confirmed.

You went down the basement got in a car.

When you drove out, you noticed that everyone on the street looked distressed. They stopped in their tracks to look at the breaking news from TV stores on the streets and in cafès. A lot of them were frantically calling family members and loved ones to make sure they were okay.

Suddenly, a horrible memory flooded over you.

You've only ever seen this kind collective grieving once in your life.

You must've been twelve or thirteen when the planes crashed into the twin towers. It happened a few years after your parents were killed by suicide bombers in Iraq.

You were already under foster care in New York, under Aisha. You were walking to school then, when your old Nokia phone buzzed and rang with dozens of messages.

Come home

Emergency

You read the texts from your foster mother.

Sensing distress, you ran back to her apartment, where she was looking at the TV in horror. What you saw on was the most disturbing thing a child had to see.

Live footage of planes crashing through towers, people jumping to their deaths and hit by debris while they try to run for their lives. It was bloody and violent, but you can't look away. You were reminded too much of the reports of your parent's death.

You cried for hours and hours on end that night, curled into Aisha's arms for comfort. Aisha was deaf— she could not hear your howling grief, but she could feel the vibrations of your sobs, humming from your chest and throughout your small, fragile body.

After that day, Aisha got the worst of it.

As a veiled muslim woman, she had to fight prejudice for the rest of her life.

It wasn't fair, you knew, that a whole group of people had to face the consequences of something they didn't do, just because a tiny population who identified as they did were led astray. You remember seeing Aisha come home from the mosque one day, her eyes bruised badly, blotchy and swelling ugly purple. Her hijab was messy and torn apart at the edges. It was clear someone had attacked her.

What happened? you signed worriedly, moving your fingers in American Sign Language. Tears started sting down your chin. She had forced a smile and replied, signing, It's nothing. She took you to bed that night, convincing you that it was nothing she couldn't take.

You were suddenly reminded again, why you wanted to serve and join the Navy SEALs Because you wanted to stop anyone from doing anymore harm. You did it for your parents, who died in Iraq, and for Aisha, who had to endure years of hatred for something she didn't do; something that millions of innocent people had to go through just because of their religious background, and how the majority sees them. It was unfair.

A noble purpose, but you ended up with blood on your hands along the way. Unintentional, but blood, thick and red, nonetheless.

The grieving people you were seeing right now was somewhat similar, people scared for their lives and bracing in case of a second attack. You didn't blame them, the missile took out two entire New Jersey blocks, after all, with fires creeping up to surrounding buildings.

Your short daze was cut off when your phone rang. Connected to the bluetooth speaker, you hit a button on the console to take the call.

"Hello?" You answered, your attention divided between steering the car and talking to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"(L/n)?" Said a familiar voice, "This is Tanaka. Naomi Tanaka."

You find yourself relieved at the sound of your old friend. "What's going on?" You asked, preparing for the worst.

"Your squadron told me you were in New York," she said, "I'm glad you're okay. Command might need you in Seattle in a few days. But for now, stay grounded. The airspace isn't safe."

You nodded unconsciously, "Okay. Anything else?"

"No, not really," she said, "just stay alert. And answer your calĺs."

"Yes Ma'am," you told her. You hung the call up soon after, diverting all your attention back on the road in front of you.

You arrived at Nick Fury's apartment block half an hour later, or at least whatever was left of it. The block was completely destroyed, going up in flames. The firefighters were still trying to contain the raging fire. The NYPD was evacuating nearby civilians, and you could see reporters, journalists, and news media vans all around, crowding as far as the eye can see. People were shouting and screeching, body bags on the streets waiting to be transported to the morgue, the injured victims being carried into ambulances.

There were 24 confirmed dead when you last saw the news thirty minutes ago, but from the looks of it, the numbers mist have risen. You estimated 40, maybe 50 dead, including bodies of children too small to fit into the big black bags. Sadly, from the looks of the current situation, the casualty rate was only getting higher and higher.

You got out of your car, walking quickly to the site. You flinched as you saw a fireman carry a wounded young man. His scream of pain echoed in your head as half his face was burned off, boiling red and almost inhuman.

Breathe, you thought to yourself.

As you were about to cross the police line and near the missile crash, an officer stopped you. "Miss," he shouted, "I don't care about your news story. Journalists stay behind the line, okay?"

"I'm not a journalist," you pulled your trident pin out of your pocket, "I'm with the navy." You showed the glinting silver pin and he came closer to inspect it.

You pulled Bucky's dog tag from under your shirt, "and I'm here to see Sergeant James Barnes."

He fiddled with it until he was sure it was authentic, then he gave them back to you. "Come with me, Miss."

You walked three blocks down with him and made a turn to a crowded corner.

It was an NYPD office. It wasn't big, but wasn't small,either. The front of it was packed with reporters, trying to get a peek inside.

"Sergeant Barnes is being interrogated by a detective in there. There are Marines and few Navy sailors, too, I think," said the cop.

You nodded in gratitude, "Thank you."

He went back to his post, walking the other way. You had to mutter a few "excuse me"s and "coming through"s and you had to push through the crowds of reporters.

You finally made the front of the line and stepped up the short flight of stairs, where two marines stood by the door. You knew they were marines by their service dress uniform– a dull green dress coat and pants with a beige shirt and tie underneath.

One of them saw you step closer and put a hand out to stop you in your tracks, "I'm sorry Ma'am, you're not allowed inside."

Once again, you were forced to show them their trident pin. "Relax, jarheads," you played it a bit coyly with the nickname, "I'm a sailor."

They nodded, letting you pass. They did not question you, or say another word.

Inside the NYPD station was a few other marines and sailors, wearing khaki shirts and black pants. Two Marines were wearing their cammies, and a sailor was wearing their Navy Working Uniform.

You counted five sailors and eight marines in total, including the ones up front.

Police officers were also walking around in circles, trying to respond to civilian needs as best as they could, dispatching units and ambulances. You kept your trident pin up so no one would ask your identification.

"Commander (L/n)!" called a voice, and you turned to the side. You saw and recognized Lieutenant Garrows, one of the people who had trained you during your early days in the Navy bootcamp.

"Lieutenant," you smiled, shaking his hand. He was five inches taller than you, his working uniform complimenting his dark complexion. He must've been in his early sixties now, a few years short of retirement, "I need to know where James Barnes is, sir."

Even though you spot a little doubt in his expression, he lead you in front of an interrogation room, where the halls were dimly lit. It was a one way mirror. You could see Bucky being asked questions by a detective, but you weren't sure if he could see you. The room was heavily soundproofed, which meant you couldn't hear anything.

Still, you were relieved to see him safe. His human arm was only a little scorched by the heat and a couple patches burned through his tactical uniform, but he would get by.

It was hard to know if his heightened vision could see through the glass, but when you saw Bucky smile to the side, just a little, you knew he could. You returned the smile, giving only a slight tug on the edge of your mouth. You could thank the supersoldier serum for that.

"Hm," said Lieutenant Garrows, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity, "He seems happy to see you."

You let out a small laugh. Garrows was like a second father to you and Naomi Tanaka in the Navy bootcamp. He was the most disciplined trainer when necessary, but an all-round nice guy that you's get drinks with during downtime. You hated that your reunion was the byproduct of a tragedy, but you were grateful he was here. If you remembered anything about him, it was that he was an extremely skilled sharpshooter, which also meant he had an equally sharp pair of eyes. No matter how small the gesture had been, his trained eye had spotted Bucky's smile.

"Yeah," you nodded, fondness seeping out of your voice.

If he wanted to ask, he did not. An honorable man like Garrows would not want to delve into your personal life. That was none of his business.

"Well, I gotta do some paperwork," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Stay here as long as you'd like to, Commander."

You nodded wordlessly, and he left you there to watch the soundless conversation. Though your early years with Aisha made you pretty good at lip reading, Bucky's facial hair made him particularly hard to read. On the other hand, the detective was clean shaven, with the exception of the slight stubble around his chin.

'Do you know whose apartment was it?' You read the detective's lips. You saw Bucky shook his head, probably telling him that he didn't.

He was maintaining the lie. Yours, to be exact, covering up your tracks.

'Then why were you there?' You read his lips again.

Bucky replied with a string of words quickly that was too hard for you to make out.

Whatever he said was enough to satisfy the detective. He nodded, writing a few notes before offering his hand to Bucky to shake. 'Thank you for your cooperation, Sergeant Barnes,' you read his mouth. Bucky nodded, and both him and the detective head out the room

When the detective opened the door, he looked at you, wondering who you were. He did not ask anything, keeping his head down.

Bucky was behind him, and when he saw you, he gave you a short kiss to your temple, and squeezed your hand once tightly before letting go.

"Hey, you," he muttered, a taint of sadness in his voice, "Sam, he—" He started to say, but you shook your head. "Not here," you told him, "In the car."

You and Bucky had managed to evade reporters, since they were too busy covering the crash site. The fires were starting to ease, but the bodies were beginning to pile up.

You entered your car, Bucky on the passenger seat.

"Sam," he finally breathed out, nothing to hide anymore, "this human figure, they had a fireproof suit and mask. They were specifically targeting Sam," there was distress in his cracked voice, which broke your heart. "The figure didn't want me. They looked like they knew exactly what they were doing. I– why not me?" He asked with a slightly shaking tone.

"It's not your fault," you told him firmly, "we'll find him together, like we always do, okay?"

Hesitantly, he nodded. He was calmed down by your presence, and in turn, you were, too.

"What did you say to the detective, anyway?" You asked.

"Told him part of the truth," he said, "That an NYPD officer requested assistance when he found a weird breaking and entering report. I didn't tell him it was Nick Fury's, or that we were there this morning." He took a deep breath, "The only weird thing is that they told me they have no record of which officer requested assistance."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Are they launching an investigation?"

Bucky nodded, "The case will be investigated by the government."

You sighed in frustration, nearly growling, "then we have to figure it out before they do. You know they wouldn't tell us if they found anything, right? Hell, even when I found Mercy 21, they wouldn't tell me a single goddamn thing about her reports. I found her. I at least deserve to know! but they wouldn't tell me shit!" You gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles were red, your voice getting louder and laced with anger, "Hydra took so much from me," your mind recalled of your fallen comrades, killed by King-Carver. "And from you, too, James. Project Mercy and Petrov might as well be the last bit of Hydra still roaming free. We deserve to know," you repeated this point, "They can't keep us in the dark like that, and at this point I'm willing to take matters into my own hands."

Bucky look at you worriedly. He had lost Sam, he wasn't going to lose you, too. "It's too dangerous. We don't even know it's Petrov."

You frowned, disappointed at his words. Suddenly, your voice softened, straining, "I have to take the chance— I can't rest until I know Hydra is completely off the face of the earth. I can't even sleep well, James." Your tone was breathy and desperate, clinging on to whatever energy you had left.

Bucky looked taken aback. Were you really not resting well? Why didn't you tell him before? Did you not trust him enough?

"Doll, I—" he started to say gently, but your phone rang through the bluetooth audio, cutting him off abruptly.

You answered it with the push of a button, motioning him to stay quiet.

"Hello?" You called.

"(L/n)," you heard the voice you had talked to earlier that night. "Are you alone?" Tanaka asked.

You lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Bucky, who remained quiet. "Yes," you lied.

"Good," she said, "We managed to track a bomber plane, most likely the one who launched the missile. We intercepted the signal, and it looks like they're heading to Kaunas, Lithuania. Airmen wanted to take them down, but there's a good chance Sam Wilson is in there."

Both your posture and Bucky's straightened, eyes wide in shock. That was an impressively quick find.

"What's the next move?" You asked, clearing your throat

"Black squadron will collect intel," she confirmed, "Your squa— white squadron will be sent there in an assault and rescue operation after the plans are cleared, understood?"

"What about the Avengers?" You asked, looking at Bucky from the corner of your eyes, "They will be expected to be searching for Wilson, too."

"I have contacted Clint Barton," Tanaka said, "He said the Avengers agreed to stand down on this one, as written on the council. The council states that as long as they haven't agreed to the terms, whoever response first has full control of the situation. Besides, they agreed because they know you will be leading the operation. They trust you, (L/n). From what I can tell, after the King-Carver incident, they consider you one of them."

You gulped, swallowing a stream of guilt down your throat. They trusted you that much, huh?

"When will we be deployed?" You asked.

"Four days," Tanaka said.

"Yes, Ma'am," it was the last thing you said before hanging up.

"Four days…" Bucky muttered, his voice calculating.

"You know Sam may not have that much time, right?" Your chest heaved and fell in panic, "And you heard where the plane is going, right? This is the confirmation we need. This is Petrov!"

You saw the look in Bucky's eyes, and knew you were right. He also knew the Avengers trusted you and your squadron too much, and that they weren't going against the government again. They didn't have enough intel on this operation, nor were they willing to sacrifice more than they have.

Because last time, the sokovia accords broke them apart, eventually being one of the reasons why half the population of the universe were turned to dust. Even if they made it right in the end, they were risking way too much.

He also knew that Sam might not have that kind of time.

"We have to get there, the sooner the better," you tried to convince him.

"Alright," Bucky nodded, and this time there was no hesitation in his voice, "Get some good sleep tonight, we go tomorrow at dawn." He rested a hand on your thigh, the slightest grin on his face, "and remember, if you have bad dreams, I'll fight them off with my bare hands, doll."

You felt a sense of comfort roll over you. You believed him.

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

When Wade Met Hal (SWS #68)

Previously posted as a KoFi Exclusive short story.

{For those who don't know, Hal Jordan is the Green Lantern, who was played by Ryan Reynolds in a spectacularly cringe worthy movie several years ago. This is basically Ryan Reynolds in one costume meeting Ryan Reynolds in another costume and it was very fun to write}

SUNDAYS WITH SPIDEYPOOL MASTERLIST HERE

*****************

“Wade!” Peter stood up and waved, motioning the blonde over to the table he’d saved in the corner. “Baby, you’re late. I thought you weren’t gonna make it.” “Heya Petey.” Wade bent down and kissed his cheek, smirking when Peter blushed a little. “My god you’re cute, still blushing when I kiss you. What the fuck.” “Stop that.” Peter blushed harder. “I’m still getting used to all this, remember? Kissing my hot boyfriend in public and going on dates and--” “And being madly in love?” Wade finished confidently. “Don’t worry. We’re only six months into this whole thing, you got years to learn not to blush over my bullshit.” “Wonderful.” Peter sighed loudly, but he still smiled, running his hands confidently over Wade’s arms and mm-hmming over the muscles. “Ready for a drink? Also, I have some news!” “Can’t wait to hear your news.” Wade promised. “Let me grab a couple beers and I’ll--” he stopped, cocking his head when he saw the beer already sitting in front of Peter. “You already have a drink, Pete. Did you buy your own drink? you just said that you're still getting used to the whole dating thing, but you know I'm supposed to buy your drinks, right?”

“Don't worry, he didn’t buy his own drink.” Someone else interrupted, someone else blonde and buff and wearing a smirk so cocky Wade was almost impressed by the sheer amount of swagger coming from the man. “Seemed a real shame that someone so pretty was drinking alone so I helped change that.” “You helped change that.” Wade repeated, narrowing his eyes and sizing the newcomer up. “And you are?” “This is Hal Jordan.” Peter supplied helpfully, pushing Wade forward a little and muttering for him to be polite. “He’s a test pilot for um-- sorry, you’re a test pilot for-?” “Ferris Aircraft.” Hal supplied, arching a perfect eyebrow when Wade’s grip on his hand tightened to bruising. “But before that I was in the United States Air Force. You can call me Captain.” “Oh I’m not calling you that.” Wade said blandly. “Wade Wilson. I kill people for a living. Former Special Forces, but don’t worry I won’t make you call me General or anything.” “Wade.” Peter blanched. “Sheesh.” “Don’t worry kiddo.” Hal winked at Peter and didn’t let go of Wade’s hand, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “Pilots own the skies, but someone’s gotta be down here on the ground taking care of things. Boots on the ground, the dirty work and all that. Good to meet you, soldier.” “Not a soldier.” Wade corrected, feeling the bones in Hal’s hand grind together as their shake went on and on, neither willing to let go first. “Just someone who unalives other someones. But hey, you’re a test pilot now huh? That’s pretty cool. They didn’t want you for the real stuff anymore? You bounce just enough to be a crash dummy?” “Test pilots save lives by ensuring the planes are safe to use.” Hal retorted, straightening his shoulders. “And I haven’t failed a flight yet.” “And we are all so thankful for it.” Wade bared his teeth in a smile and Hal bared his teeth in a smile and between them, Peter just sighed and put a hand on each of theirs, tapping into his Spidey strength just a bit to pull them apart. “Anyway.” he said loudly so both men would turn and look at him. “Hal and I started chatting because I recognized the logo on his jacket as one that I’ve seen at Oscorp and apparently he’s testing out a new flight suit for a different company now, the Green Corps? Lantern Corps? Is that what you called them?”

“Green Lantern Corps.” Hal corrected. “Hm.” Wade eyed the logo on Hals chest, a small green design that looked like a circle stuck between two lines. “What company has a circle sandwich for their logo?” “It’s not a circle sandwich, it’s a lantern.” Hal said tightly. “And I’d ask you what sort of soldier wears a Spider-man jacket.” “Don’t knock it if you ain’t tried it.” Wade winked purely to aggravate the other man, and Peter rolled his eyes over the attempt. “And as fun as this whole moment is, I’m actually here to buy Peter a drink and try to get him home and naked--” “Wade!” “--and you’re sort of cramping my style, so if you don’t mind?” Wade raised his eyebrows and made a motion like Hal should step aside. “That’d be great, thanks.” “Oh my god, stop.” Peter tugged at Wade to slow him down. “Listen. The suit Hal testing out tomorrow is one I’ve worked on! Isn’t that cool? My designs are good enough for Oscorp to offer them out as product!” “That is awesome, baby boy.” Forgetting the annoyingly attractive intrude for just a moment, Wade grinned down at Peter and kissed his cheek again. “And I’m super proud of you. Definitely deserving of a drink and a night out, huh?” “Yeah that sounds super fun but even more fun?” Peter’s eyes glowed in excitement and Wade’s heart soared a little because he loved when Peter was excited. “Hal says he can get us in to see the tests! Wouldn’t you love to do that? To see the systems I’ve been working on for the last year in action would be AMAZING!” “Wait, you’ve never actually seen the suit in action?” Wade frowned over the thought of Peter not getting to see what he’d worked so hard on, then frowned even harder when Hal interjected with a condescending-- “Most of the testing is done through computers, champ. Gotta make sure things aren’t going to blow up the moment someone like me gets in the seat, right?” “Oh, right.” Wade blew out a deep breath. “Someone like you--champ--getting in the seat and blowing up would be--” “WADE!” “I was gonna say awful.” he defended when Peter scowled at him. “I was! I just can’t figure out why they need test pilots if you run all the stuff through the computer first!” “I’ll have you know test pilots serve a very important function as--” “Alright alright, enough.” Peter threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Hal, give us a moment please. Wade, a word?” He dragged Wade over to the corner and glared up at him. “What the hell are you doing? Hal is offering to get us passes to a top secret flight suit testing and you’re being an asshole!” “I beg to differ.” Wade countered. “Me being an asshole has nothing to do with getting passes to super secret super spy stuff, and everything to do with big and blonde and buff over there buying you a drink and spending every spare second staring at your ass!" “You’re big and blonde and buff and were planning on buying me a drink and spend every spare second staring at my ass too.” Peter pointed out. “Based on that alone, you two should get alone great. What’s the problem?” “Okay me and that guy?” Wade pointed in Hal’s direction, and the pilot winked and smiled at Peter before not subtly flipping Wade off. “We are nothing alike, I would never do that!” “You do that all the time.” “Okay." Wade huffed. "Well at least I don’t go around bragging about my job!” “No, you're right. You don't brag about your job, you just announce loudly and often that you kill people.” Peter deadpanned. “Which is much better than mentioning a past in the armed forces.” “It sorta is.” Wade kicked at the floor, sulking a little. “I just don’t know what you see in him, or why the hell you're wasting your time smiling at that goon.” “I don’t see anything in him except free passes to a product test that I really want to go to.” Peter assured him, standing up on his toes and pressing a soft kiss to Wade’s mouth. “I’ve been working on aspects of this suit for an entire year, have only seen it happen on computer and actually getting to see someone use it? That’s too good to pass up.” “I’m gonna be honest, I stopped listening after you kissed me.” Wade confessed and Peter laughed quietly, leaning up to give him another one. “So even though Hal is a hunky crash dummy you’d still rather hang out with me?” “So much.” A quick nod. “Don’t worry babe. You’re the only hunky crash dummy I’m interested in.” “I’m not a crash dummy!” “You fell off the roof last weekend Wade.” Peter said patiently. “Then hopped up and shouted ‘I thought memory foam soles were supposed to save lives, these shoes are crap’.” “Okay, I’m kind of a crash dummy.” “And I love you for it.” Peter whispered. “Please play nice with Hal so I can go?” “Okay.” Wade conceded. “But people who wear lanterns on their coats are dorks, we agree on that, right?” “Says the man with an ‘I Heart Spidey’ on the back of his eighties bomber jacket.” Peter snorted. “Do you have to wear that in public?” “Yes.” Wade said seriously. “Because I heart the fuck out of Spidey.” “Spidey hearts the fuck outta you too.” Peter returned. “Now go make nice and stop letting Hal aggravate you.” “He sucks, Pete.” “Yes, the man with the green lantern sucks.” Peter shoved Wade back towards the bar. “Go play nice anyway.”

*********************

@bethy-sue @thesmollestgay @babypinkbunny @lilwitchybee @kloudbby @shipeveryonetogether @shadowrayven @hausoffro @plutoisstillsalty @thereaderandwriterwithin @thecat-theparrot-theonion @zerokrox-blog @zuretha-metal @hurricanesass @tstilcr @ulnusilmukka @kahowl-knight @oswolfpack @larissaloki @stuckony-stank @blackhearted @iona-laia @itsallyd @youarenewformetoo @megahuffledor @starks-avengers @tabziecat @stitchinaride @ceealaina @cwar1864 @trinidaddee @emogoddess24 @my-drowning-in-time @pidgist @yukina64 @words-aremy-weapons @psychobitchgonepsycho @little-big-mac2 @multishippinglife @susana0 @paranormalmoonlight5 @lullilt @girlnic @vgurl18 @sw3etpotat0

#ncts fics #sundays with spideypool #spideypool #hal jordan #wade wilson #peter parker

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a-really-bi-girl · 5 years

Text

Edelweiss- Chapter 1

The route to Tirol

Chapter 1 - The route to Tirol

Not long ago you laughed, heck you smiled like all the damn time. But now you couldn’t even think of the thought of smiling. Or the pain in your cheeks that was caused by laughing too hard with your friends. The only pain you felt right now was the pain in your head, heart and stomach.

Your head was trying to process everything that was happening. But now you’re were an emotional mess. You were Scared. Confused. Insecure. Upset. Anxious. Wobbly. You felt your heartbeat and the send out of pulses in your brain and it hurts. Every time a pulse was sent out and every time your heartbeat it got worse and worse.

In your heart, you felt the pain of guilt. Your eyes fell on the ground in front of you and all you saw were scattered bodies of people laying on the floor. Some people were unconscious and some were severely injured. And some have passed away, way before there time. It hurts so much to know that your heart is still beating and there’s are not. You should have been the one who died, not them. The pain of guilt felt to you like you have been stabbed and you knew how that felt.

Because there was a 14-inch-long sword thrust inside the left side of your stomach. Your vision went out of focus and your head became heavy. You exhaled your breath as you fell on your knees. As fell your knees hit the grass, your hands wrapped itself around the blade. To your surprise, there wasn’t that much blood, but that quickly changed when you felt a hand on your right shoulder.

The hand dug her nails through your shirt into your skin as his other hand appeared. She said something to you in a language that you didn’t understand as her free hand wrapped itself around the handle of the sword. When you found the courage and the energy to look up your eyes locked with the woman. She wore a mask and she smiled. Your eyes were heavy and it was hard to keep them open. Your vision was blurry and your eyes were wet from your tears.

The woman wrapped her hand around your neck and squeezed. It became hard to breathe and It caused your body to squirm. Your hands flew up to her forearm and hand as you desperately tried to remove her hand from your neck. The woman smiled again and with a smooth motion, she pulled her sword out of your torso. Her action made you gasp for air, which you couldn’t inhale because of her hand.

She tightened her grip around your neck as you held her forearm with your bloody hands. She lowered her head and whispered into your ear. The way she spoke languish gave you the chills, which made you squirm again. Then she let go of your neck and you gasped for air.

Almost all your energy has left your body at this point and you fell towards the ground. Your head hit the ground hard and you tried to suppress the tears you wanted to let out. Your hands applied pressure to the wound the woman left. The woman looked at you as she cleaned her sword. You blinked and she was gone once you opened your eyes again.

Instead, there were two-men where she first stood. The men walked over to your body and you tried to crawl away. The men laughed at each other and they grabbed your legs and your arms. This made you yell in pain, your wound started bleeding out again and you felt your body growing weaker.

The men lifted you off the ground and they dragged/carried you towards the alter. You struggled in their grip as you saw people placing the bodies of the deceased around the alter. You couldn’t breathe when they the cut their throats pour their blood in the notch around the alter.

The ones who are on the edge of dying were killed in front of you and you cried out for help. The man who carried you to the altar chained you to the ground as you struggled and screamed.

‘So, this is it. This is the moment I die’ you taught to yourself.

11 days ago, America, Arizona.

The warm summer sun was setting in Arizona. And two men were walking away from a burning building towards a parked yellow cab.

The brunette of the duo was dressed in blue denim jeans, a dark green bomber jacket, a white shirt and muddy timberlands. He was the tallest of the two.

And the blonde, he looked like he stepped out of a detective movie. He wore a white button-up shirt with a loosely hanging red tie around his neck. The sleeves were pushed up and he carried a tan trench coat in his hand. His pants were black just like his shoes.

“Why does everything always have to end up in flames with you?” does brunette asked the blonde as he opens the door.

The blonde laughs at him as he enters the car. “not always Chas. Your house is still standing, isn’t it” The blonde points out while lighting a cigarette.

Chas rolled his eyes as starts the engine of the car. “Where to next John?” he asked his friend.” It would be perfect if you could drop me off at the millhouse, I could use a good kip” John answered as he opened the window.

“Alright, but I have to fill the tank first,” Chas said as he entered the highway. At the same moment the duo entered the highway four Police cars exited, heading towards the fire.

The men drove in silence while John smoked his cigarette. After awhile Chas pulled over towards a gas station to refile his tank. “Can I bring you anything?”

“Just a new pack of silver cuts, owh and make it a big one,” John said while handing Chas a twenty.

Chas took the twenty and walked towards the store after he filled the tank. John threw his head back against the chair and he let out a sight. His mind dwelled back to the scene he and Chas just experienced.

The warehouse they just blew up was owned by Rangda, an evil demon queen in Balinese mythology. A disgusting child-eating bitch. She was pretending to be a school teacher so she had many victims to choose from.

When John sensed her presence in the town he quickly tracked her down. He and Chas saved the trapped kids and afterwards turned John his attention to Rangda.

“Your child-eating days here on earth are over, Let's get you back to were you belong shall we” John spoke while getting in position to send the nasty bitch back to where she came from.

Rangda protested and screamed as John sent her through a portal. It wasn’t easy, but luckily she wasn’t at her full strength otherwise it would have harder to send her to hell.

Hell

The place where John is doomed to end up.

The place where the tribunal will be waiting for him, so they can finish what they started.

The place where Astra ended up after he tried to save her back in Newcastle.

The place where he sent Dez too.

When he saved the man he loved, he didn’t get him back. Dez left as soon as he could.

And in John’s eyes, it was yet another sign that he was not worthy of love, friendship or thrust.

Everyone he ever loved or even people who came to close to him ended up dead, hurt or never wanting to see him again. He only has Chas.

Chas entered the car again with a newspaper and John’s cigarettes. “When we get to the Millhouse I need you to pack a bag. I will pick you up around 4am.”

“Why?”

“We are going to Austria,” Chas said while he threw the newspaper and John’s phone at him.

-----The Daily Planet------

Multiple Families are missing in the Tirol area, Austria

Multiple Families are missing in the Tirol.Area. In the summer is Tirol a popular place to hike and to wander in the nearby mountains. In the winter it’s a popular skiing spot. But now it’s the place were multiple Families are disappearing. Multiple police forces are arriving and working together to find out what is going on in this area. There is further given information about what could be going on.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Your Phone rang, the Austria police force needs your help. They told me that they were given your phone number by Sara Lance. She said that they had to call you if something freaky is happening.” Chas told his best friend as he entered the highway again.

“Freaky ey?” John said while throwing the newspaper on the backseat. ‘Sara has to stop with handing out my number' John thinks to himself.

The rest of the car ride was silent. John was thinking about what possibly could have happened while Chas drove. When they arrived at the millhouse John opened his mouth “Meet me around three, we need to do some research before we leave.” He said whilst exiting the car. Chas nodded and drove away.

"Let's get to the bottom of this" John said while lighting a cigarette as he entered the millhouse. Ready to pack for this next mission.

MEANWHILE IN AUSTRIA

The overflowing car of the Jones family was driving up the small mountain roads. The car was packed with people. Jane and Carlos were discussing in the front about how we had to get towards the hotel. “Carlos just listen to me, if we follow this road we will be there in 30 minutes” Jane spoke while pointing at a route on the map. “Alright, what you want” he said while changing the course.

“Mom it there a pool!?” “Dad is there a playground!?” asked the twins at the same time. They start laughing and kept asking there parents questions about the hotel. Tara and Tim were your best friends younger siblings. They were eight years old, the same age you met Alex.

You and Alex were all the way in the back of the car. Both doing your own thing. You listening to some old music while he is busy texting his ex. His relationship with his ex Jeffrey was complicated, but over. But Jeffrey wouldn’t let him go so easy.

“u okay?” you asked while tapping him on the shoulder. He replied with a thumbs up. “We are going to have an amazing week,” You say smiling trying to make him laugh. And that he did. “Heck yeah, I already found an après ski fest,” he said smiling as he showed you the poster of the party. “Nice, but we’re going in Tiroler clothing!” you say laughing. “Aber natürlich Gretel”

“du bist die Hänsel to my Gretel” I replied laughing and Alex joined me.

“Mom we also want to go to that party,” said Tara and Jane replied. “No one is going anywhere without out approval”

“Mom you promised !” Alex said while looking at her. “Alex people are disappearing, I don’t want that to happen to you,” Jane said sweetly.

“Mom, you told me I could bring Aila so I would have someone to hang with and now we can’t even go to a party. Were 19 mom not 8” Alex spoke irritated.

Aila, that was the name you used, but it wasn’t your real name. Only Alex and your family knew your real name and also the reason you didn’t use it.

“Hey, I know we’re eight but wee can totally party!” Tim shouted while dancing in his chair. “I totally understand Miss Jones.“ you say while sending a chat towards Alex and throwing him a wink. “We wouldn’t want anyone to go missing.” “Thank you, Aila,” said Jane while looking at you through the centre mirror of the car.

Alex played along when he saw the Rapunzel gif you send him. “I am sorry mom, I should have been more rational. “ he said while trying to hide his smirk. The gif you had sent him was one where she escaped her tower. The two of you threw each other a smirk before you heard Carlos speaking.

“We are here!”

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