#i really should do more with greasers... its my own au! what am i doing!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ezm-imagines · 5 years

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you give love a bad name: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Greaser!Bucky one shot

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: cussing

Tags: biker!bucky, greaser!bucky, high school au,

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this story for MONTHS and I don’t like it too much, but I figure I might as well publish it if I’m never gonna do anything else with it!!

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“What are you doing tonight?” Bucky appeared out of nowhere, immediately falling into step with you.

“What, were you waiting out here for the past fifteen minutes since class ended? For little old me?” You replied sarcastically.

“Actually, for the past hour. I skipped last period.”

“Wow, my hero,” you deadpanned.

He chuckled and took a puff of his cigarette.

You plucked it from his lips.

“Hey!” he protested, smoke leaving his mouth with the syllable.

“First lesson, I don’t go out with smokers,” you dropped the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it as you continued walking, “So if you have more of those in your pocket, then I think the entirety of tonight is booked for me.” You grinned over at him as he shoved his hands in his pocket, defeated.

“Fine, fine, whatever.”

“What, am I not worth the chase anymore if it means you have to give up your gross addiction?” You fake pouted, actually hoping he’d agree and leave you alone.

“Aw, no, you won’t get off that easy, darlin’,” his strikingly white teeth sparkled as he gave you a large grin, “So, I guarantee, no cigs. Is tonight looking a little more free now?”

“It’s actually looking a little more boring. Wanda and I are having a study sesh for most of it.”

“Cancel.”

You stopped walking, “Cancel plans with my best friend that will help me do better in school in order to have some weird, ‘wild’ night with Bucky Barnes? You really think you’re hot shit, huh?”

“Nah, nah,” he replied, raising a perfect eyebrow, “I know I am.”

You gave a short laugh, “Ah, clever,” you picked up your gait again, “It appears there is a brain behind that big leather jacket.”

“You bet, sweetheart. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take the jacket off,” he winked.

You laughed, unimpressed, “If I’m lucky? More like if you’re lucky. Try those BS lines on some other chick, baby.”

You pushed past him and continued toward your car.

“Alright, alright. You’re right.” He put a hand to his heart, “I would be lucky. So whaddaya say, darlin’?”

You tilted your head to the side and stepped forward to face him. “What do I say?” You repeated.

You grabbed the collar of his leather jacket and pulled his smug grin an inch away from your lips.

“The answer,” you whispered, “Is no.”

You grinned and pushed him away from you with a laugh, his eyebrow furrowed with confusion at how you not only rejected hooking up with him, but also even just a kiss with him.

“See ya Monday, baby,” you yelled over your shoulder, strutting down to your car at the end of the lot.

***

You sung along under your breath with the song playing gently in the background of your room as you typed in the problem into your calculator.

“Oh, perfect,” you frowned, looking between the calculator’s answer and your own, “That is nowhere near what I got. Amazing,” you pushed the books off your lap and groaned, sitting back against your bed. “This is hopeless. I’m gonna fail Calculus, and then I’m gonna fail high school, and then no college will ever accept me and I’ll have to spend my life trying to climb the ranks at McDonalds.”

“Mmm, yup, you’re right,” Wanda replied, laying down next to you. “This one test in one subject will completely blow past your 4.0 GPA and doom the rest of your life.”

“For once can you just let me be dramatic?” You whined.

“Hmm. No I don’t think so.”

You rolled your eyes, but laughed along with her.

However, Wanda interrupted your laughing by holding a finger up and pausing.

You quieted and waited for whatever she was doing.

“Hear that?” She mouthed.

You furrowed your brow and nodded. Yeah, you did.

It sounded like muffled yelling. And it was coming from your outside wall.

You stood up and turned off your main light in order to see the dark outside your window. You raised your window blind and squinted out into the darkness, before seeing a figure raise its arms in victory.

“Who is it?” Wanda asked, beside you.

“An utter idiot,” you replied, unlocking your window and pushing the glass open.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” You shouted down at him.

“Getting your attention. And checking your alibi,” Bucky looked Wanda up and down.

“Yes, genius,” you yelled back, “I wasn’t lying. I was actually studying. I know you aren’t familiar with that term, but it is, in fact, a real thing. Why are you even here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and I figured I’d stop by.”

“You’re always in the neighborhood. You literally live four houses down.”

“Oh do I? Hmm, hadn’t noticed.”

You rolled your eyes, “What do you want, motorcycle boy?”

“Motorcycle boy? Oh, come on, doll, I’m worth more than that.”

“Well, now that I see how much you hate that name, you’re forever branded with it.”

“Fine, fine, I walked right into that one. But how about YOU walk yourself down here and go out with me?”

“Or how about no?”

“Come on, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to agree one of these times. I’m trying my hardest here.”

“I certainly do NOT have to agree. But you can keep trying all you want. In fact, feel free to wait outside this window all night. Hell, build a fort down there and sleep here. I don’t care. This is never gonna happen, baby.”

You waved before shutting the window.

“Aw, come on,” he grinned at you.

You closed the blind and huffed back on the bed, ignoring the muffled noises from outside the window.

“So,” Wanda laughed, “What’s the deal with him?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shrugged it off.

“He’s cute, you should go for it.”

“Wanda! Not helping!”

“What? What’s so wrong with him? He’s hot, and he seems pretty sweet.”

“Can we just stop talking about this? This is exactly what he wants us to be doing, and I refuse to give in to the enemy.”

Wanda just laughed, but complied nonetheless.

***

“Fancy meetin’ you here stranger,” a deep voice came from behind you.

You sighed and turned around, readjusting the grocery shopping basket in your hand, “You following me?”

“Believe it or not, sweetheart, you’re not the only one who needs to eat.“

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“Alright you got me. To be honest, I just wanted to get out of the house for a bit. But no, Miss Egomaniac, I had no idea you were here. I’m actually just here to buy this,” he reached past you to grab something, getting dangerously close as his shoulder-length hair brushed across your cheek.

You froze in your spot, not sure how to react, especially when jesus did he always smell this good?

He pulled back, though returning to a spot much closer than he was before.

He held up a Coke, spinning it around to see the label.

“Hmm, ‘Share a Coke with Your: Better Half.”

He looked directly at you, smugly, as he twisted the cap off and took a long drink.

“Oh, you’re one of those people, huh,” You spoke up, “Using the product before you buy it?”

He shrugged, swallowing the soda, “What’s it matter if I’m buying it either way? They’ll get my money soon enough.”

You shook your head and crossed your arms.

“Come on,” he waved it in front of your face, “We can’t disrespect the bottle, now, can we, Better Half?”

“We absolutely can. Those names are arbitrary anyway; it’s just to get more sales.”

He pushed the bottle toward your further, and you looked down at it.

Ugh. FINE.

You snatched the bottle and took a quick swig. You swallowed it and shoved the bottle back in his hand before pushing past him and down the aisle.

“Aw, come on, doll, it wasn’t that painful!”

“Yes, it was!” You called over your shoulder.

You heard him chuckling as you shook your head and turned into a different aisle.

***

You shut your locker to find Bucky on the other side of it.

“So, how’d you do on that test you studied so hard for?” He asked, one arm leaning casually against the wall.

“Good, I think,” you began walking, “But grades won’t come out for a few more days so that’s TBD.”

“Was it worth blowing me off for?”

“I seem to recall you made multiple appearances during my weekend, so I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You still blew me off.”

“Only in your dreams,” you sniped back, staring him down with the statement’s double entendre implications.

He looked away, a large, impressed grin on his face, “Alright, that was a good one, I’ll admit it.”

“Plenty more where that came from, motorcycle boy,” you smiled, stepping away from him to go to class.

“‘Plenty more?’ So you admit you’ll keep talking to me?” He called after you, a proud smile on his lips.

“Don’t count on it!”

***

You were walking down the steps toward the parking lot to see Bucky leaning against his motorcycle and waiting for you. Again. Except this was the first time that you caught him before he caught you. But before you could start the conversation, Bucky had already seen you and was by your side.

He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“You know, you can’t just come up to me everyday to try to convince me to go out with you.”

He furrowed his brow, “And why’s that?”

You snorted, “‘Cuz, you just can’t!”

“Well, would you like me to stop?”

You bit your cheek, not sure. You naturally wanted to say yes, like you always did, but that wasn’t completely true. You kinda liked him bothering you. For some odd reason.

“What’s this?” Bucky teased, “Is the great Y/N hesitating in rejecting me?” He chuckled, “Either you’re losing your mind or I’m finally getting to you.”

“I’m gonna go with the former,” you replied, “Much more likely.”

“Sure, sure.”

He was wearing sunglasses that framed his face perfectly, and you were annoyed at the way they partially hid his (beautiful eyes) expressions from you.

So, you took them.

You reached forward and slid them off his nose, and then plopped them onto your own.

“I believe I was using those,” he squinted, his eyes readjusting to the brighter sunlight he was being exposed to.

“And now I am. Go figure.”

“Will I be getting them back any time soon?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

He laughed, and you caught sight of the gum he’d been chewing in his mouth.

“Since when do you chew gum?” You furrowed your brow slightly.

“Since I started trying to quit smoking. Turns out it’s bad for your lungs or something. Who knew, right?”

You crossed your arms, smiling, “Yeah. Who knew.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re winning.”

“Hmm, well, it seems to me that I am at the moment...?”

“Shut up.” He was... kind of blushing. Woah.

“Look,” he continued, “As much as I love this exchange, I do have to get home right now.”

“Then go. I’m not stopping you,” you told him, beginning to walk away toward your own car.

“Maybe not purposefully but you definitely are,” he replied, hopping onto his motorcycle. You just shook your head, before straightening up and blinking in realization.

“Oh, hey,” you paused, “do you want your sunglasses back?”

He stopped for a moment before shrugging, “Nah. You look better in them anyway, sweetheart.”

He winked before revving his engine and speeding away.

‘You look better in them anyway.’

After seeing him wearing them, you weren’t too sure about that...

***

You were lying in bed, scrolling on your phone when you heard a familiar thumping.

Yup. It was him again. But 1am?! Seriously?!

You opened up your window and prepared to yell down at him, “Barnes, what the he-”

“Y/N?”

You frowned. That wasn’t his normal casual-and-smugly-charming attitude. Something was wrong. You could tell immediately.

“Can I... can I come up?” He asked quietly.

“Buck, my parents would kill me if-“

“Please?” His voice cracked slightly on the single syllable and you exhaled.

“Alright. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

You silently crept down the steps and to the front door.

Slowly, you opened the door to see Bucky standing there.

God, you’d never seen him so messed up over something. His face was twisted like you’d never seen before.

“What happened, Buck?”

His eyes flitted up to yours and you noticed the pain behind them. “Um, can we just... not... I don’t want to talk about it.”

You took a deep breath but nodded, “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

You noticed the bruise blooming on his cheek and you could put the puzzle pieces together yourself. He didn’t need to say anything.

“Look, I know... I know you don’t really like me that much, and I know that I’m always joking around about this stuff but... can I sleep here tonight? I’ll sleep on the floor or whatever, but I just can’t be home right now...”

You nodded, “Of course. Whatever you need. Um, follow me. But, uh, you have to promise to be completely quiet. If my parents catch you here, then you won’t be able to stay.”

Bucky gave a sad smile, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at being quiet.”

Your heart tugged and you wanted to hug him, but instead you nodded before turning around and leading him up the stairs toward your room.

You gestured him inside and began clearing stuff up from the floor so he could walk without tripping over textbooks and dirty clothes.

He chuckled half-heartedly and you looked up to see why.

“Nice bra,” he nodded towards a black lace one hanging off your closet door. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, but in reality, you were glad he was feeling better enough to joke around, even if the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So I guess I’ll be here for the night?” He motioned to the floor you had just cleared.

“Oh, well. I mean, you could,” you mumbled, “But you can have the bed if you want. I think you’ve been through enough tonight.”

“I’m not about to potentially get you in trouble with your parents AND steal your bed from you, come on. I’m at least slightly a gentleman.”

“It’s not stealing if I offer. And anyway, I wouldn’t really mind sharing the bed with you. I just don’t wanna make you sleep on my cold, dirty floor.”

Bucky paused and stared at you seriously for a long moment.

You returned the look. You felt like this might be the first time you were seeing the real Bucky. Not that that cocky Bucky wasn’t a version of him, but this was the Bucky beneath all that.

“Really?” He asked after a moment, “I know I can make some people uncomfortable sometimes, and I don’t wanna...”

“You’ve never made me uncomfortable,” you answered immediately.

He was giving you that look again. Like he almost couldn’t trust what you were saying. “Serious?”

You gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean,” you slipped a smile, “yes, sometimes you’re tediously confident and repetitive...” you teased.

He chuckled.

“... But I trust you,” you ended earnestly. And it was the truth. You didn’t know why. But you did. He may be annoying and perhaps stalkerish, but you knew the second you REALLY told him to stop, he would instantly.

“Thanks,” he replied simply, not knowing what else to say to communicate how much that meant to him.

“You’re welcome.”

You two stared at each other for a moment longer, before you reached forward to touch his face.

Your fingers ghosted over his bruise and trailed down to a few cuts and a split lip, “Want me to take care of that for you?” You whispered.

He only looked at you with wide eyes, before eventually moving his mouth slightly to utter a dazed, “Sure.”

You gave him a soft smile and left the room to go get a first aid kit.

You returned shortly and motioned for him to sit on the bed, bouncing down next to him.

You clicked open the kit and poured some cleaner on a cotton ball.

You cringed at him slightly, “This is gonna hurt.”

“Not as much as it did when I got it,” he half joked.

Your heart broke slightly at that, but you continued on.

You counted down before placing it gently on the cut on his lip. You could tell he was trying not to show the pain.

“You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t sting, I know it does.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

You sighed but pressed a new cottonball on his temple.

This time he let out an audible hiss.

“Sorry,” you whispered, pulling the cotton ball away. And, for a reason you didn’t know, you leaned forward and kissed his temple before rubbing a little Neosporin on it.

You pulled back and proceeded to work on another one of his cuts, fighting down the wild feelings bubbling inside you at the act.

You dared a small glance at him to see his reaction, and saw his mouth was slightly agape with shock.

Realizing you were looking, he coughed and replaced it with cool charm, “Can I get one of those on this one?” He quirked an eyebrow, pointing at his split lip.

“Shut up,” you lightly punched him in the shoulder.

You noticed the wince he tried, and almost succeed at, hiding.

But he couldn’t hide it from you.

“Show me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You took his face in one hand, “Buck. Let me help.”

He sighed, relentingly, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it off over his head.

Your jaw fell open at the bruises littered up and down his muscles. You could tell they weren’t all fresh.

“Come on, Y/N, I don’t want to-“ he looked away and cut himself off.

He seemed... embarrassed.

“Bucky, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. None of this is your fault.”

He was still looking away. You grabbed his jaw and forced him to face you, “Listen to me. None. of this. is your fault.”

He at least seemed to partly take in what you were saying, but he looked down anyway.

Most of his injuries were bruises, but there were a few more cuts you were able to bandage.

Once you finished, you cleaned up the bandages and trash, then shut the first aid kit.

“You can put your shirt back on if you want,” you replied, walking over and placing the first aid kit on your desk to be put away tomorrow morning.

“And what if I don’t want to?” He winked.

You rolled your eyes, “Just get in the bed so I can turn off the light and get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned.

You shook your head, grinning back, and waited until he had slipped his shirt back on and was under the covers for you to turn off the light.

You sighed and climbed in next to him, raising the blankets up to your chin.

“Thanks for helping me,” he whispered into the darkness of the room.

“Thanks for trusting me enough to come to me.”

He only hummed in response.

***

You remember waking up at some point in the early morning, your hand somehow intertwined with his, and the sunlight from your open window streaming in on his beautiful hair and peaceful countenance.

You loved it.

You wished you could wake up to that every morning.

But before you knew it, you’d fallen back asleep. And the next time you awoke wasn’t as kind.

This time, an alarm was blaring, the sunlight was harsher, and there was no beautiful subject for it to fall upon.

You sat up and hit your buzzer, but saw nothing of Bucky anywhere in your room. You frowned and stood up, walking around for a second in confusion before your eyes caught a piece of paper tacked to your bulletin board:

Thanks.

You smiled softly and took the note off, tracing your finger over the 6 scribbled letters.

***

“What about this weekend?” Bucky persisted, appearing next to you and as you walked down the parking lot.

“You just never give up, huh?”

“I’ve been known to be a persistent asshole from time to time.”

“I think the ‘from time to time’ part of that sentence might be too generous of a qualifier.”

“Ouch,” a smile still cracking on his lips.

You shrugged it off, “I’m busy this weekend, too. You can’t just waltz in and expect me to clear my plans for you Buckaroo.”

“‘Buckaroo?’” He winced, “I think you’re slipping, doll.”

“You know what I meant!”

“You’re right I did. So, what about tonight instead?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I told you I couldn’t do future plans as it was such late notice, so you decide to try something even MORE late notice? That makes sense...”

“Well, whaddaya say?”

You hesitated, “It’s a school night.”

“And I’m not hearing a no.”

You exhaled, “Fine. You get one hour. But that’s it. And I’ll set a timer to make sure!”

He grinned the widest you’d ever seen, “Pick you up at 7.”

He started running back toward his motorcycle, but you called after him, “Wait, what are we doing on the date?! What do I wear?!”

“Anything! Actually, scratch that, preferably wear nothing.” He winked.

You rolled your eyes, “You’re this close to getting cancelled on, Barnes! Don’t push it!”

He just threw his head back and laughed.

You kept walking, annoyed, but couldn’t fight the grin off of your face.

***

At 7:00 on the dot, you heard a motorcycle engine outside your house.

At least he was punctual.

You took one last look at your tank top and skinny jeans in the mirror before dashing off and out the door.

“I see you didn’t follow my advice,” he motioned to your outfit as you stepped outside.

“Is that a problem?”

He grinned at you, “Not at all.”

He tossed an extra helmet at you and you caught it just in time before it could hit your face.

“Nice catch,” he chuckled.

“Very funny. Where are we headed?”

“Aw, now you don’t expect me to just tell you out-right? It’s a surprise, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

You slipped the helmet on and took his outstretched hand. He helped you onto the motorcycle and moved your arms to wrap around his.

“Comfortable?” You teased.

“Very,” he purred, sliding his helmet back on.

He jolted the motorcycle forward without warning, attempting to make you jump with the fake-out.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get me to jump.”

“Don’t encourage me.”

Well, let the adventure begin...

***

“Aaaaand, right here,” he tugged on your hand and got you to stop next to him as you both looked out toward the moonlit playground.

“After weeks of build up, I give you one hour with me and you take me to a kiddie park?”

“Hey, it’s not a kiddie park if there’s no kids around!” He motioned around to the emptiness.

“Cuz it’s past their bedtimes. And they’re smarter than to go on dates with know-it-all bad boys who bring girls to parks. What do you plan on doing, vandalizing?”

“Would you relax?” he chuckled, stepping to face you head on, “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with this concept, but I brought you here to have fun. You seem to have forgotten what that’s like.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He narrowed his right back.

“Come, on, Doll, it’s really not-“

“Ah!” You screamed as water spat up and hit you from behind, and you squealed, launching yourself forward and away from the sudden attack.

... And right into Bucky’s arms.

“Well, hello there,” he smirked, “Huh. I guess we must be standing in the water fountains area of the park... Wonder how that happened...”

You gaped, “You got me to stand there on purpose, didn’t you?”

He shrugged a shoulder, failing to fight back a grin, “Maybe. Maybe not. You can’t prove anything.”

You shook your head, “Oh, you are SO going to get it!”

He gave one more laugh before running off in the opposite direction. You chased after him, dodging and screaming as water spurted out of the holes irregularly.

He ran in circles, attempting to dodge you, ducking under one fountain stream and another. You couldn’t reach him, but you tried to thwap and splash as much of the water towards him as you could.

You held your sides from laughter as he got on the ground and rolled, pretending the fountains were like lasers in a spy-action thriller.

You were so busy laughing that you hardly noticed when he stopped and started running directly at you. You screamed right before he body checked you, then lifted you up and over his shoulder.

“Bucky, no!” you wheezed in between giggles.

He purposefully walked right in front of fountains, making sure to angle you and get you the most soaked as you kicked in protest.

He eventually put you down and you charged right back at him, knocking him to the ground along with yourself.

You landed on top of him, and one shared look sent you both into hysterics of laughter, the feeling of his chest rumbling beneath yours only making you smile brighter.

“You are so full of it, Barnes,” you huffed, catching your breath.

“Oh, am I?” he replied, but his usual cockiness dimmed as he looked at you, biting his lip slightly.

Your eyes slid to his lips and your breathing shallowed. It would’ve been so easy to just lean down one more inch and close the distance, feel his lips on yours and see if he was really as good at kissing as you had been imagining him to be.

You reached up slowly and threaded a hand through his long hair.

He hummed into the feeling, contentedness flickering in his eyes and stretching across his mouth in a smile. And suddenly, he was just too beautiful. Him, lying beneath you, so peacefully content, was just too beautiful that you couldn’t avoid it anymore.

You stared in his eyes for one last moment before moving forward and connecting your lips.

Fountains bubbled up around you, splashing you with cold water, but you hardly noticed.

It began tentatively, with gentle care and simplicity.

But as the kiss’s length grew on, it became harder, hungrier.

Bucky sat up, guiding your arms to reach around his neck as he reached around your waist. You slid your legs forward and wrapped them around him, pressing yourself as close as possible as the kiss picked up steam. He let his hands slide further down your back as you drug your nails through his hair.

He gasped slightly against your lips, and you grinned, kissing him harder.

It wasn’t until the fountain directly beneath you went off that you finally broke apart for air.

You chuckled quietly, nuzzling your head into his neck and biting back the massive grin across your face.

You heard Bucky’s chest rumble with a chuckle and pulled back to look at him.

He motioned to his watch, displaying the numbers 7:58, “It appears that I’ve used my whole hour up. You still sure you wanna go back to studying Calculus right now?”

"Just shut up,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing his collar and kissing him again.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Please please please leave a comment if you enjoyed!!!! <3

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queen-parasoul · 4 years

Text

Burnout

Summary: All Samson had wanted was to jump on a motorcycle, ride out into the middle of nowhere, and have a life of his own. But like everything with the Medicis, things could never be so simple.

Characters: Samson, Filia, Vitale

Genre: Family/friendship

Author’s Note: This is a fully human AU with no supernatural elements like the Skull Heart.

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There were names for this place on a roadmap. For good reason, “No Man’s Land” was the one that stuck.

A line through a tan blotch on a map did little justice to the scope of the warm arid expanse. Dust and sparse vegetation spread for miles, split by a seemingly endless road. Any rise in elevation rested along mountain ranges barely visible in the shade of night. During the day, the heat could be unbearable, but on nights like tonight the air was pleasantly cool, the sky above cut by the moon and hundreds of stars.

Contrary to popular belief, there were a few dots of civilization around this wasteland. The largest was a modest town, though quiet at this hour. The loudest signs of life came from its outskirts, a dive bar just off the road, parking lot lined with cars and motorcycles illuminated by streetlamps light.

Only people with simple needs or without a future would live out here, and on a Saturday night, this place was full of them. Muffled music played within the walls, briefly leaking out as the front door squeaked open and a brick wall of a man skulked outside.

He looked half like a greaser, in a leather jacket along with a white tank top, jeans and boots. His black hair, styled into a pompadour, led into sideburns then a short scruffy beard, all framing a strong tired face. Before the door slammed shut, he gave a short wave behind him to the patrons inside casting friendly insults and wishing him a good night.

Sober enough to drive, fatigued enough to sleep as soon as he got home. An uneventful end to a Saturday, but a good one in his book.

Walking up to a motorcycle parked in the front lot, he dug through his pockets for his keys when a meek voice addressed him.

“Um, excuse me?”

He looked over his shoulder to find a teenage girl approaching. People around here could be clean-cut, but she stood out, wearing a fresh-pressed button-up blouse and a pleated skirt with a headband pushing back her long blonde hair. He couldn’t help but eye the purse over her shoulder, a designer brand if he wasn’t mistaken. Her face was full of nervous curiosity as she craned her neck a little to look him in the eye.

“Are you Samson?” She asked.

“Who wants to know?”

“…Me?”

That should have sounded like an insult, but her tone showed no indication. He had nowhere pressing to be, so he humored her.

“Yeah, I’m Samson.”

She sighed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness! I thought I’d never find you.”

“You’ve been looking for me?”

“Well yeah, you’re the reason I’m here, after all.”

“Really.” He’d never been called out so politely in a parking lot before. “What for?”

“Well, I thought you’d be at your house, but no one answered, so I came here.”

So she knew where he lived, and when no one was home her first instinct was to check the only bar in town. Either she knew him or just knew what to expect from people who lived around here.

“I get why you’re here, but why were you looking for me in the first place?”

“Well, where else am I supposed to-” She suddenly frowned, “Wait…do you recognize me?”

“Nope.”

Her eyes threatened to mist over, and he didn’t want to stick around for the misplaced waterworks.

“Look, you got the wrong guy.” He started to walk away. “Do yourself a favor and go somewhere worth being.”

Her voice suddenly spiked in frustration. “Samson, it’s me! Filia!”

He froze. Now there was a name.

Memories came rushing back, and as he looked her over again, her features started to fade into familiarity. While her light hair was her mother’s, the dark hue of her eyes was unfortunately like his. The voice was familiar too, if half a pitch lower. The polite demeanor had thrown him off, but if he pictured her a little shorter, with a smug look on her face…

“No way.” He muttered. “Filia?”

The next second, her arms were wrapped around him. “You do remember me!”

He glanced around the parking lot, making sure no one was witness to this awkward encounter then slowly pushed her an arm’s length away. She seemed completely oblivious to his discomfort, smiling ear to ear.

“I can’t believe you got so tall.” She marveled. “And you grew a beard!”

“Yeah, you, uh…you got pretty tall too.” He mustered in reply, still bewildered.

“It’s so good to see you again. I had heard you left the city, but I had no idea you were all the way out here!”

“Well, I wanted a change of pace from New Meridian, and this is where I ended up.” He refocused on the matter at hand. “But never mind that, what are you doing here?”

“Didn’t my Dad tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

They both fell quiet as he waited for an answer. His gaze on her narrowed, and she smiled nervously, searching for the gentlest explanation. Just when he started to feel the rush of an incoming bombshell, she finally spoke up.

“So…” She tapped her fingers together, “Funny story.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Put him on the phone, Vitale.”

“He’s not here.”

“Like Hell he’s not there!”

Samson banged against the wall of an aged phone booth that stood at the edge of the lot, its interior lit by a single flickering lightbulb. It was functional, but the scratched glass struggled to contain both his wild gestures and shouts into the receiver.

“You gotta be kidding me! I haven’t seen him in five years, and he sends me his kid?! He could’ve given me a heads-up at least!”

“You didn’t leave a phone number, Samson.”

He wasn’t about to admit Vitale was right. “Well you still managed to figure out where I was.”

“Marcus already knows where you live. Apparently, he had your address.”

“Yeah, I sent it to him a while ago in case he found any important stuff I missed when I was packing. Guess I forgot to send it to you too.”

Vitale’s voice twitched in annoyance. “How…thoughtful. And yet you didn’t think to send a new phone number?”

“Not important.” Samson diverted. “I don’t even know how you got her out here. I’m surprised she didn’t get kidnapped.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Thankfully, she was still sitting on the curb, patiently sipping a bottle of water.

“We did our best,” Vitale responded, “And she’s a little more capable than she looks. That said, hopefully she’ll be safer in your care.”

“And what am I supposed to do with her, huh? I don’t have any room for her at my place, and I don’t have time to babysit either.”

“She’s sixteen.”

He threw his hands in the air. “Whatever! I haven’t seen her since she was what, ten? I didn’t even recognize her at first, since she’s so…nice. Did she hit her head or somethin’?”

“She grew out of her bad habits, Samson. Most people do that, unlike you.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you even convince Marcus to do this?”

“It was his idea. And it’s more like he wouldn’t be doing this if we had any other choice. Not to mention you owe us after all the trouble you caused before you ran off on us, and after that for that matter. Your departure and little spats with Leviathan came up when we were trying to make peace with the Contiellos, and it did not make us look good.”

“Yeah, well-” He paused and leaned against the phone booth wall. “Wait, what happened with the Contiellos?”

“That’s…not important. The point is, Filia’s there now and she needs somewhere to stay. You don’t even have to bring her home. Once everything has calmed down, I’ll send Cassandra to come pick her up.”

“Oh yeah, Bella!” He snapped his fingers. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s…fine.”

“Good to hear. I guess you’ve been keeping her busy as your little errand girl.”

Samson heard a satisfying sigh from the other side of the line.

“I understand this is inconvenient,” Vitale admitted, “But Filia isn’t safe here right now.”

“Why not?”

“She just isn’t. That’s why Marcus is trusting you with this. Like it or not, he’s doing what’s best for his child.”

“And what would you know about that?”

The air held still on both ends of the line. Samson wasn’t keen on opening old wounds, but Vitale brought out the worst in him. He decided to bite his tongue, and only act defensively, and luckily when Vitale spoke, he chose to resist too.

“Alright, just…listen. You don’t like this. Neither do I or your grandfather or even Marcus and Amelia. But you’re the only one of us who’s left New Meridian, and if anyone still thinks you’re part of the family, they don’t know where you are. You aren’t in danger so long as you’re out there and neither is she. Trust me just this once when I say we have no other option.”

Samson leaned an arm against the glass and stared out at Filia. The longer he did, the clearer his dusty memories became.

“She’s family, Samson. Surely that still means something to you.”

He ran every grating scene of his old home through his head. Every passive-aggressive jab, every pinch of pressure to be someone different, every tireless complaint from every branch of his family tree.

“Fine.” He relented. “But no guarantee she won’t be a heavy drinker by the time she gets back.”

“I guess that’s as much as I can ask for.”

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Filia had just finished her water bottle when Samson returned, an exasperated look still plastered to his face.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t, but he rummaged through his motorcycle’s side bag and tossed her his helmet anyway. “We’re gonna head back to my place. You ever ridden one of these before?”

“Nope.”

Of course she hadn’t. With Vitale’s iron fist, it was a miracle he had even touched one when he was sixteen. “Just get on and don’t let go of me once we get going.”

She took a seat sidesaddle on the bike while he started throwing her belongings into the side bag, surprised by how little she had brought for someone living the high life. Knowing the family, he assumed they had just thrown her a few weeks’ allowance instead to save space. (Still more than Samson’s rent, he also assumed.)

“My place is no Medici Tower, but it’s decent.” He continued. “You’re gonna have to sleep on the couch though.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. Do you live alone?”

“No, I got a roommate and a dog.”

“Oh…okay.”

And of course she didn’t like dogs. She called them “slobber factories” back in the day, and no matter how different she was now, he could tell that hadn’t changed.

“Well, at least you’ll like my roommate. She’ll be around tomorrow, maybe she can help you get settled in.”

Filia’s eyes twinkled. “‘She’?”

The implication flew high over his head. “Yeah, a friend of mine. We ran into each other a few years back.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s…nice.”

‘Nice’. As if she wasn’t going to laugh herself to death when he explained this in the morning. But she wouldn’t be his best friend if she couldn’t be as much of an ass as he was.

Shooing her further back on the seat, he took his place in front and turned the keys in the ignition. The rumble of the engine brought some ease to his anxiety. He couldn’t even begin to think about this whole mess in the long-term. What he needed was a short ride and a good night’s sleep. He’d figure out where to fit her into his life tomorrow.

His mind couldn’t help but wander back to New Meridian. Just from Vitale, he could tell things weren’t perfect with the family. They took a real risk sending Filia out here even if Marcus did trust Samson more than anyone else in the family did.

As much as he tried not to be, he was worried. Vitale, Lorenzo, and all their goons could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared, but Marcus and Amelia were good people. Not to mention Cerebella – sorry, Cassandra, a fine name even if Vitale acted like he owned it – was still under Vitale’s thumb, probably promoted from doing chores to dirty work that, worst case scenario, could get her hurt.

Funny how Vitale cared more about the precious heiress than he did his own kids. Samson hoped to high heaven it would come back to bite him in the ass.

For the first time in years, a malicious spark lit up in Samson’s eyes.

Maybe there was a silver lining here, more than just another friendly face and at least one housemate who wouldn’t steal his leftovers. There were ways to twist this in his favor, a little more compensation or one final jab for old times’ sake. He’d have to be careful to keep the innocent out of his line of fire, but if he aimed for the right targets….

He had given up on that life a long time ago, and he’d sworn that all the money in the world couldn’t drag him back into it. Even so, that didn’t stop a devious smile from emerging on his face.

He was still a Medici after all, right? And all that was left of that legacy for him now was the spite in his blood.

“Samson?”

He snapped out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for letting me stay with you. I know it’s pretty sudden and everything.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“And…I was pretty young when you left, and I know we weren’t the closest,” She hugged Samson so genuinely that he could feel his skin crawl, “But it’s nice to see you again.”

He took a deep strained breath then slowly exhaled. “Damn you, Vitale.”

“Hm?”

“Nothin’.”

He revved the engine and sped off with his cousin into the night, praying to whatever higher power that was listening that there was still booze at home.

#skullgirls #samson #filia #fanfiction archive #this one has been on the backburner for MONTHS #i'm really proud of it though #also tried to clean up the format with that little descriptor at the beginning

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jcwriting-blog · 6 years

Text

Chapter Four

BTS Outsiders AU

Word Count: 2.1K

Trigger Warning: _

Previous Chapter < > Next Chapter

Song: Golden by Morning TV

Rose

I picked at the mushy lunch food as I looked around the lunch table. Taehyung and I sat in silence as Jin and Jimin laughed about something dumb one of their friends did.

“Like, really, who the hell does something like that?” Jimin laughed.

“I know, right? That’s what I told him, and he still doesn’t listen.” Jin added.

Jimin laughed, “What do you think, Rose?... Rose?”

I suddenly realized he was talking to me, “Uh… what? Sorry, what were you saying?” I asked.

Jimin smiled compassionately, “I was saying-”

“Hey! Watch it, freak!” Jin shouted.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The girl apologized, walking away quickly.

I looked around Jimin and saw Taehyung’s bag tipped over, with all of the contents spilled out. She probably just kicked it.

“Jin, don’t worry about it. It was an accident.” Taehyung said quietly as he put his stuff back in his bag. I noticed a small box on the floor.

“Tae!” I whispered and gestured to the box. He seemed confused at first but his eyes widened when he saw it, ‘Tape’ he mouthed back.

“Am I missing something here? What’s going on?” Jimin asked.

“Oh, nothing.” I replied a bit too quickly.

“Rose, don’t lie to me, you guys have been acting weird ever since the assembly. What happened that I don’t know about?”

“Jimin, really. It’s nothing. We were just… upset about what happened to Jungkook.” I lied.

“Upset? You barely knew him. Rose, tell me the truth.” Jimin pushed on.

“Listen, if you guys are gonna have one of your couple fights, do it out in the hall.” Jin interrupted.

I sighed and took Jimin’s hand. I led him out to the hallway, I turned around to see Taehyung nod at me. I knew I had to tell him.

“Okay, now that we’re out here, what’s going on?” Jimin asked impatiently.

“Look, Jimin, I-”

“Are you cheating on me with Tae?” Jimin asked quickly with tears in his eyes.

“What? No! Oh my god, no, no no! Never!” I assured him. He quickly got over it sighed in relief, “Okay, then what?”

“The other day, when Tae was at his locker, he found a tape.” “A tape?” Jimin repeated.

“Yes, a tape. When we played it back, it was a video of Jungkook, the day he died.”

“No way.” Jimin said, wide eyed, “Did it show…?”

“Yeah, um… listen, you have to promise me to not tell anyone about this.”

“I swear on my life.” He promised quietly as he took my hand.

“Okay... Jungkook didn’t commit suicide. Someone killed him. They made him drop the camera, and right before they shot him, they filmed his body and the message.”

“Just like what my dad said… What did the message say?” He asked hesitantly.

“It said ‘I’m sorry’. I’m not sure if they were trying to frame his suicide or if the murderer himself meant it.”

“Why would he be sorry? If he didn’t want to kill Jungkook, why didn’t he just… not kill him?”

“Jimin, I don’t know. Before he attacked him, Jungkook said hi to him, and he talked to him like they were friends. But the tape cut out any parts where he would’ve responded.”

“This is way too sketchy… Does anyone else know besides you and Tae?” Jimin asked.

“Um, yeah. You can’t tell Jin, he’ll kill us, but we went to this Greaser’s house.” “Wait, you what?” Jimin asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

“Yeah, his name is Namjoon. He knew Jungkook. I’m not sure what he can do with the tapes, but he might be able to help.” I explained hesitantly.

“Tapes? You mean there’s more?”

“Tae just found one in his bag, when it was tipped over just now. We’ll probably bring it to Namjoon after school and watch it.”

Jimin stayed quiet for a moment, “I want to come with.”

“What? No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. You don’t know this Namjoon guy. He could be some sort of escaped convict or something!”

“I’m pretty sure he isn’t an escaped convict. Jimin, he’s chill and from what I’ve seen of him, he isn’t looking for trouble with us Socs.”

Jimin looked around, and looked back into the cafeteria. I saw Jin smile and wink at us and turn to say something to Tae. Jimin sighed, “Fine, but I still want to come with.”

I drove up to Namjoon house slowly, checking to see if anymore cars were here. I didn’t see any other than the one parked lazily next to the entrance.

“So… What’s this guy like?” Jimin asked, “Is there anything I should know before we go in there, guns blazing?”

“‘Guns blazing’? Really Jimin? We’re just gonna go in there, watch the tape, and see if he can do anything with it.” Taehyung explained.

“Why would he know what to do? Shouldn’t we just bring it to the police? You know my dad’s a cop, maybe he can help if I-”

“No, Jimin! You don’t get it, the cops already looked for signs and clues of a murderer, they found nothing! If we gave them these it would make us look like we were the ones that did it anyways.” I told him.

“Okay, yeah… Let’s just go in already.”

As we walked up to the door we could hear people talking and laughing from inside the house. I peeked through the window and saw the people from the other day inside the kitchen talking. I couldn’t remember their names exactly… Mary and something that started with an H?

“Oh shit, Marie and Hoseok are here, maybe it’s best if we come back later.” Taehyung stepped back.

“Too late.” Jimin said as he knocked on the door. I could see Marie turn around and go to answer the door.

“Um… hello? Is there something you guys need?” She asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, is Namjoon here?” Jimin asked confidently. Hoseok eyed him suspiciously, “Lemme go check.” He said as he walked to some room in the house.

“So who’s this one?” Marie asked, gesturing to Jimin. Before Taehyung or I could say anything, Jimin introduced himself.

“Hello, I’m Jimin Park. Rose’s boyfriend. Who are you?” He asked in a tone that sounded more like an insult than a question.

“I’m Marie. That’s all you need to know.” She glared at him. Hoseok came back with Namjoon, who’s eyes widened when he noticed us.

“You’re back! Did you find another…?”

“Yeah, we haven’t watched it yet. I found it in my bag today during lunch.” Taehyung explained.

“So it clearly isn’t a mistake that you’re getting these tapes… But who’s putting them there?” Namjoon wondered.

“Maybe someone saw the murderer kill Jungkook.” Marie suggested.

“Or maybe it’s the murderer himself that’s been planting the tapes.” Jimin said.

“I kind of doubt it.” Hoseok replied.

“Let’s just watch the tape already!” Taehyung shouted as he took out the camcorder.

“Turn that damn thing off!” Someone laughed behind a black screen. A hand moved away and it revealed a smiling Hoseok looking at whoever was behind the camera. They were sitting at a diner, a soft chatter in the filling background sound.

“Oh come on, you love the attention.” The person behind the camera said, most likely Jungkook.

Hoseok shook his head, “You’re not wrong.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Look at what we got here!” A deep voice boomed off camera. Hoseok looked up with a dark expression.

“Mind your own damn business, we haven’t done nothing.” Hoseok growled.

“Sorry buddy, but I ain’t scared of a couple o’ Greasers.” The man threatened. Hoseok kept staring at him intensely.

The camera started shaking, “What’s this little toy you got here?” The voice asked, “Hey! That’s not yours- let it go!” Jungkook shouted. The camera was pulled back and forth before it was raised into the air with a ‘thump’ sound.

“Not so tough, are ya, little guy?”

The camera was panned at the tiled ground, and a few small feet walked up to whoever was holding the camera, “Is that your camera, young man?” An older woman’s voice asked.

“Um, ma’am, I-” He stuttered.

“Give the boy back his camera, or I’ll kick you and your friends out right this minute.” She scolded him.

“Alright, ma’am, It won’t be a problem again.” He set the camera down, which showed half of Hoseok’s face. He was serious, yet looked surprised, as if no one had ever done this for them before.

Soft footsteps walked away, but Hoseok still looked serious. A chorus of conversations grew louder, it sounded like teenage boys.

“Henry! These guys giving you any trouble?” One asked.

“Nah. Let’s just get out of here.” He answered.

The group of boys left, and while Hoseok’s serious and hardened look faded, a more angry one took its place.

“Those bastards, I’d like to see them actually own up to anything their dumbasses get them into.” Hoseok commented under his breath.

“Yeah, it was kind of pathetic to see how easily he gave up when that lady showed up.” Jungkook agreed.

“Hey, if they ever mess with you like that and I’m not around, tell me. I’ll kill them if that’s what it takes.” Hoseok threatened.

Jungkook laughed nervously, “I don’t think you need to go that far, but a good spook wouldn’t hurt.” “I just don’t want them picking on you like that, Kook.”

“Thanks, Hobi.”

I looked up and saw that Hoseok had tears in his eyes.

“Why would someone…?” Taehyung trailed off.

“I think they’re setting up something bigger. This definitely isn’t the last tape.” Namjoon said.

I noticed that Marie had stood up with Hoseok and gone to the kitchen. He was crying silently as she was saying something to him that I couldn’t hear.

Marie

“Hoseok…” I looked up to see Hoseok leaning against the kitchen counter, him covering his face with one of his hands.

“This tape must’ve meant a lot to you.”

“No kidding.” He answered sharply, peering up from his covered tear stained face and looked at me into my eyes.

“I… I miss him.” Hoseok confessed, fiddling with one of the silverware he found nearby.

I grabbed the spoon he was holding and put it aside. “We all miss him, Hoseok.”

“You don’t-” He was interrupted by some murmuring coming from the living room. “You just don’t understand how I feel.”

“Hobi, what do I not understand about it? That Kookie was murdered and someone involved with this mess is sending some Soc that we don’t even know tapes? Of course I understand how you are feeling.” I remarked. “Jungkook was our family. I even considered him a little brother.”

“I think we all did.”

“Also… “ I pondered for a bit, trying to change the subject. “Maybe we should go back in the living room and invite Taehyung and Rose for dinner.”

“Yes! I mean yeah, why not.”

“I never realized I missed him so much.” I remarked, before walking back into the living room. I glanced at an old picture of Jungkook on Namjoon’s fridge. He was about eight then, playing in one of the sand hills by his old house. He was so happy and full of life. Suddenly I came to realization that that was the same boy that was shot not too long ago.

“He was murdered, Hoseok.”

We all sat at the dinner table facing one another uncomfortably. Uncoincidentally all the Socs sat on one side and Hoseok and I sat at the other. Namjoon sighed as he set down the pot of spaghetti.

“What do guys want to drink? There’s not many options…” He ran over to check the fridge. “We got water and a pack of SD.”

As Namjoon mentioned the soda ‘SD’, Hoseok tensed up. “Uh I’ll have an SD.”

“I’ll have one too,” Jimin added.

I glanced at Hoseok. His eyes were shifted onto one of the SD cans inside the living room. “Make that three.”

“Could we both get water?” Rose insisted.

“On it!” Namjoon chimed in with the armful of beverages. As he set down Hoseok’s SD, he shifted in his seat. He murmured something underneath his breath that sounded something like ‘I can’t take this’ or ‘I can’t do this anymore’. Whatever he had whispered sounded concerning.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by him bolting out of his chair and into the bathroom.

“Uh he must’ve really had to go then.” Jimin remarked.

“Really Jimin?” Taehyung and Rose said simultaneously.

Ignoring their retorts to one another I looked back at the bathroom door. It felt as if he was scared of the drink. Why would anyone be that terrified of SD?

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