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#in the mines i gotta clear out and iron is hard to get early in the game and. its just kind of a hassle to start over
forestryfae · 9 months
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the worst part of stardew valley is Spring, Year 1
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whump-or-whatever · 1 year
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Whump Vignette #10
Contents: kidnapping, captivity, escape attempt, people being knocked out, multiple whumpees
• • •
It was a normal day for Whumpee A. They had gone to work, come home, then decided to walk to the store to grab something for dinner. It was all quite mundane right up until the impact on the back of their head made their world go dark as they crumpled to the ground.
• • •
The air in the cell was stale and dusty. A relatively small room with walls of cement and no windows, a heavy iron door was the only way in and out. An artificial light buzzed above their head, never turning off even as days went past.
A had been in that cell for three days and nothing had changed. At first they’d screamed and yelled, but it was all to no avail. The only break from the monotonous buzzing and grey walls was when the guard would bring them in a tray of food and a bottle of water. It was hard to say, but judging by their hunger A assumed it was only once a day. They tried to talk to the guard, but they would not look at them let alone speak.
Then, after three days of nothing but the same, something changed. The door opened far too early to be the next meal, and A jumped to their feet. The guard entered the room backwards, pulling something behind him. Or someone, A realized as a person was thrown roughly to the floor. The guard quickly left, closing the door behind them as A rushed to kneel beside the newcomer.
“Hey, are you okay?” They asked as Whumpee B rolled over and sat up. They sported a black eye and a split lip.
Looking around, B asked “where am I?”
A shook their head. “Your guess is as good as mine. What happened, do you remember?”
“Umm, I was out weeding my garden when someone grabbed me from behind. I tried to fight them off but they overpowered me and knocked me out. I woke up in the back of a van just before being hauled in here,” B explained.
“You know more than me then, I woke up in the cell.”
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” B said, pushing themself up to their feet.
A smiled. “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.
• • •
A stood just inside the door to the cell, their back to the wall. They were listening carefully for the sound of the guard’s footsteps. After hours, they finally heard them and motioned to B, who stood up and readied themself.
As soon as the door opened and the guard stepped into the cell, A jumped on their back, arms wrapped around their neck. B rushed forward and kicked the guard in the stomach before grabbing the tray from their hand. As they keeled over, B hit the guard over the head with the tray. There was a moment in which B thought they might have to go for another hit, but then the guard toppled to the ground unconscious.
A climbed off of them and ran to the door. Looking both ways to make sure the hall was clear, A motioned for B to follow them.
Together, they ran down hallway after hallway, not really sure where they were going but continuing nonetheless. A found it sort of odd that the halls were so empty, but they couldn’t worry about that, they had to focus on finding a way out. And they did. A heavy door with an exit sign on it. A pushed on the bar to open it and stumbled out onto a sunlit lawn.
“Come on!” They yelled excitedly to B, who was only a few steps behind. They took off across the grass, running until they met a tall chain link fence with barbed wire at the top. The sign on the fence indicated that it was electrified.
“Shit.” A cursed, looking around frantically for some way past the fence. They saw nothing, though, and as they turned around they were met with a large group of guards running across the lawn towards them. Out of breath and trapped with nowhere to go, A’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
The guards reached the two attempted escapees and fanned out, making a semi-circle to keep them in place. There was a moment of silence before B abruptly broke into a hearty laugh. A looked at them, confusion writ across their features.
B managed to reign in their laughter to speak. “Oh, that was good. Incredible, actually. Such spirit.”
“What?” was all A managed to get out.
B sighed and smiled at A, a mocking look. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve not been totally honest with you. You see, this here,” they gestured tot he building, “is my facility. And you? Well, you belong to me now.”
Whumpee shook their head. “Why would you do all of this? Pretend to be captured like me?”
“Because now you know,” Whumper said, face growing dark and serious. “That there is no way out. Even with the halls empty, even with help, you’ll never escape here. And now that you know that, you know there’s no point in trying again.”
Whumpee stared at Whumper in slack-jawed shock.
“Take them back inside,” Whumper waved a hand casually and two of the guards grabbed Whumpee roughly, dragging them back towards the building. “And someone check on the guard in the cell, I hit them pretty hard.”
Whumper smiled as their employees headed off towards the building. That had been fun, but it could only get better from there.
• • •
Fin
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
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M&Money (Matthew Gray Gubler/Reader)
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Prompt: Chocolate is a currency 
Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler/ Reader 
Summary: After all their friends are gone, Matthew and Reader stayed playing poker and betting all their chocolates on longboards and kimonos.  
Category: Fluff 
Warnings: Bad poker references and mentions of sex.    
Word count: 2,1k
Masterlist
(Y/N) stared into Gubler’s eyes trying not to move a muscle. Her look was fixated on his, as the two of them tried to read each other. Matthew raised an eyebrow slowly and she did exactly the same, resting her back on the chair and letting out a deep breath. 
- “You are bluffing”- Gubler claimed, with a cocky smile. 
- “Am I? really?”- (Y/N)’s lips curled in a small ironic smile, and her eyes traveled from him to the cards she was holding in her hand. 
- “You are so obvious, Bunny, you don’t have a poker face”
- “Gub, you do know you only play a profiler on a tv show, right? you are not one in real life”- his girlfriend teased him, enjoying the moment of “tension” between them. 
It was Saturday night and all their friends had already left, after yet another poker night. More than playing cards and betting, it was about getting together and laugh, having a few drinks, and just make fun of each other’s lousy bluffs.
By the end of the night, almost everybody but Gubler had lost all their M&M’s. And of course, the actor kept obnoxiously repeating “you shouldn’t play poker with someone from Vegas”, just like every time he won. 
Gubler usually won, and (Y/N) had enough of that nonsense. She was the only one left with enough M&M’s to keep on playing, and after everyone left, she decided to make Gubler pay.
Yes, they were gambling M&M’s, ‘cos at the Gubler house the currency happens to be chocolate every poker night.    
- “Actually, after you master the fundamentals of poker, all there is to learn is the psychology behind poker bluffs, and my love, you are absolutely see-through”
Matthew shook his head and smiled at (Y/N).
- “You should never play poker with someone from Vegas, Bunny”
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, annoyed.  
- “Again with the same cheesy line, Gubs?”
- “I’m sorry, babe! you have a tell”- Matthew snickered watching how his girlfriend was starting to get upset. 
- “Oh, do I?”
- “Yes”- Gubler played with the cards in between his fingers, enjoying (Y/N)’s eyes burning with anger. He was successfully getting under her skin. 
- “Which is…?”- she questioned him immediately and took a sip of her whiskey. 
- “I won’t tell you!”
- “Why not?!”
- “‘Cos there’s no fun if I do!”- he smiled again and left his cards on the table- “So? do you fold?”
- “I raise”- the girl counted her chocolates and moved all her yellow M&M’s to the pile right in the middle of the table.  
- “Oh! I see!”- Gubler was enjoying being a cocky ass- “So you really wanna lose everything you’ve got”
- “Less talking, more betting, Matthew Gray”- (Y/N) furrowed her brows, giving her boyfriend an annoyed glance that made him chuckle. 
- “Why are you so eager to lose?” 
- “Why are you so sure you are gonna win?”
- “Oh trust me, Bunny, you are going down”
- “Wanna bet?” 
- “We are betting”- Gubler snorted pointing to all the M&M’s on the table- “And by the way, here’s your 35 yellows and I raise… everything I’ve got”
The actor piled all his chocolates in the middle of the table and smiled. (Y/N) didn’t know if she wanted to kiss him or slap him… most likely, it was both.  
- “All in?”- she asked and bit her lip. The couple didn’t say a word for a few seconds. They just stared at each other, waiting for the first one to crack. 
This time, it was (Y/N). She just nodded and pushed all her M&M’s across the table in silence. 
- “Ok, Bunny, show me what you’ve got” 
- “Nope, first, let’s make it interesting”- the way she smiled, Gubler couldn’t tell if she was bluffing or not. So far, he was sure the girl had nothing, but if she kept teasing him like that, maybe she had a good hand.
(Y/N) didn’t know if Matthew had a good hand or not, she just loved to play with him. And most of all, she loved to win, and she wanted to win so badly, she was going all in. 
- “Interesting how, Bunny?”- his voice was velvety and it made (Y/N) bit her lower lip as he spoke. 
- “I raise, and bet… my new longboard”- Gubler stared at her still. Neither of them moved, trying to see each other’s tell. (Y/N) smiled, finally she was making him doubt his hand. 
- “So you got bored of riding it? ‘cos when it’s mine, you are never going to get it back”- Matthew sipped his whisky and smiled. 
- “Are you gonna raise?” 
- “Yes, I bet the hidden screws…”- but (Y/N) chuckled and shook her head as soon as he started talking.
- “Gubs, the “one day I’m gonna give these to a special girl” screws have been in my drawer for the last two years, so stop using them as an extraordinary item and give me something impressive.” 
Matthew opened his mouth to argue, but he knew she was right, so he just smiled. His pretty chocolate eyes shining in joy. 
For someone who enjoyed hanging out with his friends all the time, he was glad everybody had left early. He loved that moment with his girlfriend. After all those years, he could tell he could never be bored with her, even when they were betting M&Ms or just laying on the couch watching movies. 
His mother had told him once that’s when you know you find the one. And he hadn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.  
- “My favorite kimono”- Matthew settled, and didn’t even flinch. (Y/N) held her breath. He wasn’t bluffing if that was what he was willing to risk, right? Two important things were on the table at that minute, and it was time to show their cards. 
- “Ok”- the girl whispered and nodded. Gubler smiled and waited still. 
- “You first, Bunny”- the way he whispered those words made (Y/N) feel she might have been wrong. She didn’t know if he was bluffing, but she kept her hopes high. 
Matthew kept a big grin on his face as (Y/N) moved slowly revealing her hand. 
- “Four of a kind”- the girl announced proudly. But Gubler didn’t even react. He didn’t frown, he didn’t smile. He didn’t even look at the cards. He just stared at her.  
- “What do you’ve got, hon?”- and still, Gubler didn’t move- “Come on! don’t be a shitty winner, show me your hand”- Matthew chuckled and moved slowly. Painfully slowly.  
- “Shit”- she whispered as she saw the cards on the table.
- “Just a shitty flush!”- he groaned and let his body lay on the table, pretending to be deeply affected, as (Y/N) jumped from her chair and shouted. 
- “Loser!!! I won!! I fucking won!! I need to take a picture of this! I gotta send this to Paget! she ain’t gonna believe it! I win! you lose!!” 
Yes, she wasn’t the best winner but, who is, really?
- “Enjoy your moment, Bunny”- Gubler mumbled still pretending to be upset, and made his best not to smile. 
- “I want my kimono”- the actor gave her a mock groan and stood up.
- “Can you just take the M&M’s and be happy?” 
- “Nop, I want my kimono”
- “I’ll trade it for…” 
- “Nope, my kimono, Gubler”
- “Nobody likes a bad winner”
- “Nobody likes a loser”- her snarky words were reciprocated with an annoyed stare, that made (Y/N) laugh even more. She grabbed her phone and snapped a few more pictures with Gubler like that to have a memory of her glorious moment. 
Winning to Gubler in poker was actually something to be proud of, even if it had been by random luck. 
Matthew walked slowly to his kimono closet, followed closely by (Y/N), who kept jumping and giggling, still excited with her achievement.
- “Please, be careful”- he whispered as he stared inside the closet and picked his favorite. He touched the fabric carefully, letting his finger play with the silk for a few seconds. 
- “Stop groping my kimono, perv!”- (Y/N) forced him to move from the closet and held the item closely.
- “It’s mine now! mine! mine! mine!”- Gubler held his breath and tried to remain serious, though it was turning to be harder if (Y/N) kept acting like a kid. 
- “I don’t think it fits you”- he teased, and (Y/N) gasped immediately- “It’s too big for you, maybe I should have it back, yes, I will have it back, ‘cos you are not even going to wear it after all.”
- “No no, no, Gubs, it’s a poker bet! this kimono is mine”
- “Prove it!”- he demanded and (Y/N) stared at him blankly- “If it’s yours… prove it”
- “Why?”- she giggled and bit her tongue. 
 It wasn’t poker, but (Y/N) knew Matthew’s tell when it came to sex. The way he was looking at her, how he moved one step closer, almost touching her. How carefully he licked his lips. He was crystal clear. 
- “Why what?”
- “Why should I wear it? it’s mine, I can do whatever I want with it”- the girl grinned and giggled, watching how Matthew started flustering in front of her.
- “I could simply just let it hang in my closet forever, and it would be ok, ‘cos it’s mine now, I don’t have to wear it, I don’t have to prove you anything…”
Teasing him was so fun, and he never let her have that much control either. It was weird, and it was tempting. (Y/N) was definitely enjoying it. 
A few seconds later, she turned around and started walking upstairs, knowing no matter how badly Matthew would fight it, he would follow her to their room. 
- “But why would you want to do that with this fantastic kimono? Did you feel it? It’s the softest thing on earth, here, (Y/N), feel it”- the girl chortled as her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her and forced her to stop. They stayed in the middle of the stairs, Gubler locking his arms around her, his eyes clearly undressing her without saying a word. 
- “Yes, hon, it’s soft”- (Y/N) whispered, and tried to look away for a second. Matthew’s eyes were too intense on hers. She could feel how he pressed his already hard cock against her, like a warning. A warning of what was coming, a sign of what she was accomplishing.  
- “I bet you have never felt anything as soft as this kimono against your skin”- the words sent shivers down her spine, as Gubler’s voice on her neck was low and velvety.
- “Last time you bet me something, you lost”- she moved again from him and continued walking upstairs- “So I don’t think you should play those games with me”
- “Not funny”
He followed her to their room and laid on the bed. (Y/N) walked around the room holding and looking carefully at every inch of her prize. Gubler stared in silence for a few seconds, and then, he continued. 
- “It’s the softest thing on earth, you should wear it”
- “Mmm, I’m not sure”- all that teasing was funny, but Matthew was feeling already a little frustrated.
- “Come on”
- “I don’t feel like it” 
- “(Y/N), please”
- “Why?”
- “You just won the kimono”- he stood up and walked to her
- “So?”
- “So? you should be enjoying the softness against your skin”- and that was all (Y/N) could take, ‘cos as soon as she heard those last words, she started laughing. Gubler was a little confused. 
- “What? what did I say?”
- “Why don’t you just stop the bullshit and admit you gave me the kimono ‘cos you’ve got a weird kimono thing”
- “What?!”- he was busted
- “Just say you wanna fuck me senselessly while I wear this kimono and I’ll put it on”
- “I don’t know what are you talking about”- Gubler trying to look innocent under those circumstances was impossible. He knew it, (Y/N) knew it, anyone who could take a look at how painfully tight his pants were at that moment, would know it. 
- “Really?”- he nodded, in one last effort to look innocent- “Oh, sorry, I totally misunderstood this conversation then, I’m gonna hang this kimono in the very back of my closet and I’ll never wear it then.” 
Gubler sighed, defeated for the second time that night. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed every word he spoke against her lips slowly. 
- “I want you to put on that kimono so I can fuck you senselessly against the wall”
The girl let out a sigh of satisfaction and took off her shirt immediately. 
- “You command and I obey, daddy.”
- “But I’m gonna need that kimono back”
- “Don’t push it, Gub”.
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flameontheotherside · 2 years
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Stopping victim mentality is HARD!
If you are serious about becoming spiritually mature on your journey, we have to make attempts to heal. No you don't need to be completely cleansed. It's just not possible but if you think it works, do you. Maybe it depends on how deep your wounds are.
I know I write a lot about my struggles and how this journey is tough at times. Parts of why I have this blog online is:
It won't get tossed if written in a notebook.
I want to openly bexpress myself.
Hope that I help someone go through the same thing.
To heal.
Healing is a repeating process.
It's a practice you gotta do every day or as often as your mental health allows. There's no race or need to clear yourself of all things "bad". I think we need some traumatic experiences to share with people. To show people you've been there and you know what it's like. Helping others is unconditional love.
Victim mentality that is deep coming from early childhood abuse is nuts. Idk if it's true for everyone though. Mine was just emotional abuse and some unintentional parental neglect. It's not an excuse that my mother was a single very young parent if three. She could have had an abortion or gave us up.
Now personally I wouldn't go the abortion route but I also never got myself pregnant either. I'm 33 and childless so....yeah. To be clear I don't care if anyone has abortions but it would have honestly been nice if she either aborted or gave us up if she wasn't mature enough to be a parent is all. Her actions are the very reason for a while I didn't want kids. In fact all three of us siblings still have no kids because of how oblivious our mother was.
Anyway so the abuse wasn't physical or whatever.
It was purely neglect and verbal abuse. I was born with special needs from the jump. I had to have several surgeries due to hernias. Then I had classic signs of autism but it went unnoticed because back then girls and women were not diagnosed. My mother was never around and when she was she locked herself in her room and didn't want to be bothered. Single mother under 25 with two jobs. She barely had any time so because of that we stayed at group homes. That's a whole other bag of chips.
Traumas starting at a young age and continues into adulthood? Yeah it's hard as fuck to not feel sorry for yourself. I was heavily bullied and generally treated like shit for a number of reasons and if you don't know, my TF is deceased and that's another whole bag of chips so it's a constant thing of...
My life sucks, my twin flame is dead wahh wahh wahh, why me, oh woe is me 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
I allow myself to feel, express myself and then do my best to let it go. Yeah it's hard. Erik tells me all the time that I gotta let myself really feel and cry about it. I don't like crying. My problem is I'll rant for a second and then focus on something else. Then tuck away my feelings until something happens even like my period or something not panning out I literally would cry all day (privately) and then heal by talking about it with Erik and\or Rick.
It's a repeat process and at first...
....I wasn't seeing results until I realized that I actually dont absolutely hate my mother anymore.
For example...
She was young and I'm sure scared. Yeah I'm harsh on young mothers because of my experiences but not as much. I was able to text my mom everything I felt about her. I even said some very hurtful things. Like really railed it into her because I couldn't hold how I felt in anymore. What triggered me was that she chose an abusive man over me and my siblings. Ironically I was in the very same exact situation! That's how we ended up homeless around the same time. More about that later. Insane!
The miracle was that while it made her cry, I'm very certain it allowed her to understand why I couldn't give a rats ass about her cancers, why I was always defiant, and why I couldn't go to her when I needed her. She in her way apologized. Now we have a relationship and when we both coincidencentally became homeless together I stayed with her at the shelter, ran errands for her (she can't walk from the cancer treatments now), call her on her birthday, call her on mothers day and even call her when I'm upset or just bored.
There was also a repetative past life dream I had that made me realize also that part of why my mother was so reluctant to care for me at times was because I was a slave driver in the south assumingly. She was my slave! When I saw the poor old women's eyes, I saw my mother. It was so powerful. I understood that she felt like a slave to me. I was demanding but it wasn't my fault though. It still got me to understand why things were. It was hard to stay angry with her. And yeah I told her about the dream.
So stopping the victimhood is a constant process.
The important thing is that you become consciously aware. Recognize you are in pain, try not to take it out on others, don't make yourself entitled, feel your feelings and release them. But you gotta keep at it and always aim to heal. Also...
*AHEM* ....😌
😆📢 No one owes you jack fuck-all because you had a tough life!
This is the gospel of truth. This also isn't to say your pain is invalid. It's to say that it's no one's job to heal you and believe me...no one wants that job, mmkay? YOU have to heal YOU. I've been there and done that and it just doesn't fucking work because people will then start hating you. You have to realize that God, the world, the people in it do not need to bend to your will just because you either refuse to be accountable or heal. I get that healing is hard. It's hard for everyone! Everyone has pain and it's a spectrum. Please don't get into the habit of saying...
Well my pain is worse than yours blah blah blah ...
Pain is pain no matter how you spin it. Does it hurt? Was it traumatic? Okay great welcome to the PTSD club now sit the fuck down and get serious about stopping the victimhood bullshit. It doesn't get you anywhere. It just makes you look like a self-obssessed entitled asshole. Recognizing you need to heal is the first step to it. You need to give yourself credit and keep moving forward.
😘💕 Most of all don't be so hard on yourself!
Side note: ...I know it's hard because I beat myself up all the time 🤣. Even for shit not my fault. Now that's just dumb isn't it?
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Elizabeth is a Guro-Sue.
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Summary: Elizabeth Alby has been working at a London strip club for several years, and she's always kept herself aloof. She has secrets, and fantasies, but she's in it for the long game. When the strip club is finally bought out and taken over by someone nice, a man she can befriend and manipulate in order to get what she wants, she's excited.
But her old boss just can't keep his sleazy self away.
She's not about to lose out on a chance to better the club for herself and all the dancers. Maybe it's time to finally give in to what she wants to do oh so badly. Again...
A/N: This is a piece detailing my OCs second ever murder - the one which pushes her into continuing her enjoyment of such. It's set in an original universe based around a strip club called The Deadly Sinners, which features several of my OCs as well as friends of mine! If you're interested in getting to know her more, feel free to ask anything you like! And consider following my new gore centric twitter as another way of talking! I'm very open to expanding the universe and talking about my characters and what makes them tick, etc. In present day, Elizabeth is 28, and has a kill count of maybe a dozen+ kills. This is just the beginning...
WARNING: Explicit detail of murder, violence, and death. Involves stabbing, head trauma, broken bones, and additionally sexism and sexual misconduct. Please do not read if such topics may trigger you!
~🔪 Enjoy 🥰🔪 ~
2015.
About an hour ago Elizabeth had been in the back office with Alix, the new owner and boss of the club. She'd met him almost a year ago when he walked into the club and draped himself over a bar stool. He didn’t square up to any of the girls, didn’t stare them down with carnivorous hunger - he just laughed with the bartender. Elizabeth walked up to him, ready to offer him a dance, but he beat her to introductions. 
"Oh Jesus, you’re a stunner! Sorry, sorry, where are my manners?! Forgive me, I get a little tongue tied around beautiful women, and if I can be so bold, you’re one of the most breathtaking women I’ve ever seen.”
Usually compliments don’t leave Elizabeth speechless. She’s used to them. They’re like white noise for the most part. Him though, Alix, he was different. He had wide eyes, and a smile to match, and he looked at her like she was a friend before he even knew her name. It was like the rushing wind that encapsulates a person when they’re falling from a 50 story building. She felt like she’d finally taken the cleanest, deepest breath in a long time. 
Now, Alix is the new owner of the strip club, and he has big plans to refurbish everything. He wants to tear down walls, redecorate the whole place, give dancers a better backstage area - for a man who’d made the decision to buy a business on a drunken impulse, he was surprisingly serious about making it something. 
The construction team will start working early afternoon tomorrow. An hour ago Alix had been telling Elizabeth his plans, what he wanted to do with the whole place, and that, to her surprise, he wanted her input. He really respects her, and all the dancers. Having a boss who treats her well, looks in her eyes and not over her scantily clad body, it was the kind of unbelievable luck Elizabeth didn’t believe in. 
The pair left each other in good spirits, excited for a new start, buzzing on a shared hopeful high. Alix offered to walk her home but she'd respectfully declined, wanting to enjoy some quiet before she was home. After a few blocks, she reached in her handbag and realised she forgot her keys in the office. She turned around and walked with an urgency to pick them up - ironically, she had the spare key to the club Alix gave her, but not the ones to her flat. Her dad and sister were out of town, so she had to go back…
That’s when she saw a shady looking figure at the club’s entrance. He couldn’t see her from the distance, and if he did, if he caught a glimpse of her when looking over his shoulders in a haste, she’d just look like any other blurry figure walking home. It wasn’t a break in, he had a key, and knowing that, Elizabeth realised who it was. So she waited, let him enter, and snuck in herself a few minutes afterwards.
Now, Elizabeth stands behind the bar, filling a shot glass with vodka, and throwing it down her throat swiftly. She makes it look easy, cracking her neck and muffling a cough in reaction to the burn. It's how she likes to start her shifts usually, with liquid courage. 
Now it’s 3AM on an ordinary Tuesday. The rain has suddenly begun to pound the pavement outside, loud enough to rattle the building - it punishes the world, cleansing the treacherous stains left by sinners.
Vodka splashes out of the glass and onto the bar. Elizabeth takes the nearby rag and wipes it up. She turns around and peers into the wall mirror behind the bar shelf, liquor lining the wood and obstructing a clear view. She pulls out the dark red lipstick from her bra. It's accustomed for her to look her best at every given opportunity, addicted to perfection. She runs it over her plump lips, pouting and popping them to rub in the smooth colour, then stares at her reflection for a minute. Honey brown eyes stare at her, understanding what is about to happen has to happen...  
Now is the time to kill someone again, and not just any random patron off the street. She gets to revel in the joy that her old boss, Stewart, will die by her hands.
She's been working at the club for around 5 years now. It wasn't what she had planned, but it kept her safe in a way she couldn’t explain. She only started working there as a side gig, to get some decent money while she studied. The plan was to be an electrician, get a secure job working on the railway lines. She enjoyed tinkering with electrics. She got her qualifications with ease, but nowhere would accept her at the time. Whether it was the lack of positions available, or the familiar judgement that a woman like her couldn’t possibly be competent, she will never know. Life got hectic, after her mother's death everything began falling like the devil's dominos. Stripping should have been a cash grab, but she adapted to fit the narrative that the dancers she worked alongside became like family.
She’s well liked, though mostly from a respectable distance, with only a few exceptions. Some people find it hard to know what to say around her - she’s usually so quiet, with a look like she’s always thinking. She's never been a shy character. The correct term is aloof, bordering impassible, and smart. She let her co-workers find comfort around her, and she gave patrons the illusion they were her saviours. Everything Elizabeth did was calculated to cater her neverending poker game, and now, still in to win at life, no one truly knows who she is. 
No one knew she thought about murder every day. No one knew she craved the crazed euphoria of killing someone, that which she felt when she’d blugend her mother to death. Every day for the past 4 years she’s been wondering if she’d get the chance to relive that high, planning over and over again in her head when she would do it, who would be her victim - she didn’t expect it to be on a whim like this.
It’s titillating just thinking about it. Damn near erotic. Since she started working at the club, she’s had to deal with the sleazy stare of her boss almost on the daily, knowing his eyes linger on her ass, while his hand cups his groin. He licks his lips staring at her tits, and when she meets his eyes with her evil glare, she can see the unsure arousal lingering in his pupils. He’s putried, truely, pleasuring himself in his office during work hours after watching a performance. Stewart is a predator. He preys on his vulnerable staff, and uses them to gratify his animalistic cravings.
"If you want to rake in the money, sweetcheeks, you’ve gotta smile more. Guys like tits, but they don’t like miserable bitches, kay?”
Elizabeth had imagined his death a thousand times over the second he said that. When he dared to raise his index finger under her chin, condescend her in such a way, she hoped there would come a day she’d get the courage to kill him.
After a few more minutes priming herself like a proud peacock, she reaches into her handbag and pulls out the hunting knife she keeps on her at all times. She used to just have a switchblade, until she passed an antiques store one day and saw the beautiful blood red hunting knife calling her name. She conceals the weapon in her thigh high boots, checking the handle is at a viable point she can grab it with ease. Wrapping her hand around the sturdy rubber, a rushing anticipation of her murderous excitement buzzes through her fingers and up her arm, just like electricity. Her heart is racing. 
She leaves her coat over the bar top, walking out from behind the bar on the first floor and heads downstairs. She can hear his grunting every so often, the slamming of desk drawers and flustered footsteps as he searches for something. Last time she saw Stewart, he'd been wishing Alix the best of luck. Now he's breaking in the day before renovation is scheduled. 
She stands outside the office door and knocks. Light, flirty knocks. A loud gasp followed by a rough, irritable command to enter. Elizabeth hides it well but she's beyond excited to gut Stewart like a fish. She wishes she'd been more prepared for the moment - wishes she made plans, figured out specifics and wasn't going off instinct. There were so many nights she thought about the how's, knowing if she had to feed that beast inside her, it had to be perfect. This isn't perfect like she wants, but it's perfectly good luck, she can't bear passing up the opportunity.
As she walks in, she sees Stewart sitting behind the desk, leaning back, cheeks furiously red and his forehead clammy from sweat. His thinning hair is swept back, more sweat than gel, and clearly only styled by his hand brushing it back. He looks like he always did, in a tight white shirt and scruffy tie, the years of loneliness aging him more than his crow's feet. His lips pull up into a shark like grin when he sees her, all teeth on show, and he chuckles, darkly, kind of like he's been expecting her. Out of all the girls, it's clear that Elizabeth was his favourite, and she plays into that favour by popping her hip to accentuate her curves. His eyes unashamedly fall down her body, taking in the sights, and though it repulses her to let him have the pleasure of just looking at her, she knows the payoff is worth it.
Maybe she can gouge his eyes out while he screams for mercy, deprive him of the tools he wastes on depraved thrills. She's had so many fantasies where she wriggles the tip of her knife's blade into someone's eye socket, and pops their eyeball out their skull.
"Lizzy, sweetheart...what're you still doing here?" He asks, almost timidly, like he's nervous, but still maintaining a confidence he can no longer afford. Elizabeth gently closes the door behind her and leans back on it, crossing her legs over one another. His line of sight hasn’t actually met her eyes yet.
"I left my keys," she nods toward the set on Alix's desk, and smiles when Stewart visibly gulps. "But then I thought I heard someone rustling around in here. Strange to see you here." She pushes herself off and struts seductively toward him. The space between them is only a few steps, but Elizabeth manages to walk it like it's a runway. She leans her head to the side, looking at the mess of paperwork on his desk. "You looking for something?" She asks, just barely above a whisper. Stewart's hot breath pours out on her arm, distracted, then jerks back to the subject matter.
"Oh, yes! Uh I left some paperwork, very important documents, uh confidential actually, so you should--"
"All of this is Alix's." She picks up one of the sheets and inspects it. It's a building permit. She looks over the other papers - a scattered mess of plans and expenses and permits but all distinctly Alix's. Elizabeth hums and sits against the edge of the desk, crossing one leg over the other. Her legs are long, gorgeous, and she knows he wants to touch them. He practically looks enslaved to her beauty, he's forgetting about being caught up to no good. "Nothing here is yours."
"Right. I'm still looking," he answers too easily, but the sweat on his brow is a give away. Elizabeth chuckles under her breath and places the paper back down. She shakes her head at him in disbelief.
"You should have gotten a business partner to help you run this place." Her tone is devilishly flirtatious, dripping in false promises. She looks around the cramp office and shrugs. "A second set of eyes to help you spruce the place up. Maybe then the club wouldn't have been failing and you wouldn't have had to sell it."
His mocking laughter hits her hard. Her gaze snaps back to him.
"You're so naive, Lizzy." Stewart muses, too cocky for Elizabeth's liking. He wiggles his finger in her direction and chuckles. "But naivety doesn't mean shit when you're a stripper, so who cares!" And with that he starts rummaging through the drawers again, unbothered by her presence.
Her blood boils with a heat as intense as a volcano. It takes every inch of her being to resist grabbing the bunch of pens in the coffee cup on his desk and ramming them down his throat. He's still chuckling, like he's the funniest man to walk planet earth. She hates him, truly, but she doesn't let that show on her face of course. All she can do is keep smiling. 
She crosses her legs over, exaggerating her leg outwards so he notices how long and slender she is. She tosses her hair over her shoulders and leans back accentuating her breasts. It doesn’t take a lot to distract Stewart. Her leather skirt and bralette reflect under the dim office light, clinging to her figure, squeezing her curves like a boa constrictor. Her mesh top sparkles like it's covered in every constellation, it’s a wonder she can breathe carrying such beauty. His fingers ache to feel her melt. She tips her head to the side and bites her lip, hypnotising him. 
"What did your girlfriend think of you working all those late hours surrounded by half naked women?” She smirks when he laughs.
"I don’t have a girlfriend.” He pushes himself out of his chair and rolls his shoulders. He’s nervous, hands shaking at his side and sweat dripping down his brow. God she wants to slice the skin off his face and make him screech in agonising pain. If he could read her mind, he might run for the hills. “What about you, Lizzy,” He places his hand beside her and leans in uncomfortably close. “What does your boyfriend think of you, dressed like this,” he motions his free hand around her breasts, “Alone in your bosses office?” 
Elizabeth is almost insulted that he thinks he even has a chance with a woman like her. Of course she represses the disgust in favour of chewing her bottom lip, reaching out to toy with the loose tie around his neck. "Ex boss," She corrects, smugly. His breathing gets heavier, halting only when she harshly tugs on the tie to bring his face mer centimeters to her own. He pathetically puckers her lips, and she snickers, looking at him darkly beneath her eyelashes. 
"Do you really think I’d care what a man thought of me?” Then she throws him back forcefully, standing up and dusting herself off as he stumbles to regain his footing. The force practically winds him. “Besides...I don't have a boyfriend. Boyfriends annoy me too much."
Stewart bumbles through an exasperated laugh, insulted by her statement as if it somehow could apply to himself. He straightens his tie and puffs out his chest theatrically. "You've obviously never been with a decent guy."
"A decent guy?" Elizabeth repeats. "Does such a thing exist?"
"Of course they do."
"Where?"
"Well me for starters!" Stewart blurts out, too wound up to consider the implications of what he's admitting. Before the words settle, she's already looking at him with disdain. A wicked smirk slithers across her face and she rolls her eyes, to his annoyance. "Hay, I'm a nice guy!"
"Nice guys don't break and enter places that don't belong to them," she sharply closes the space between them and backs him up against the back wall, her sweet devil's grin swapping for solid rage. "Nice guys don't make advances on their barely legal employees. Nice guys don't cut corners paying the people that keep their shitty business going."
"Woah, what are you--"
"Why don't you save the bullshit and just fess up to whatever the fuck you're actually doing here, hmm?" She puts her hands on her hips, staring him down. There's a tense silence, his eyes wide and frantic, thoughts visibly racing in the wind of his dilated pupils, and Elizabeth wonders if the pounding drumming of her heart is as ear shattering for him as it is for her. 
She could slit his throat so perfectly at this angle. One sharp sweep of her blade, watching the flimsy pale skin tight across his neck rip too easily, allowing blood to spill and move like a glacier. She could wedge her thumbs into the tight wound and bury them further into his flesh, feel the rigged bone surrounded by squishy meat and warm blood. He'd feel her inside of him, invasive, denying the boundaries no one should know, and she'd laugh as he slowly dies. She wants to rip him apart like a wild animal on a hunt. 
The cracking of bone. The squelch of flesh. The adrenaline rush. It's always just out of reach.
Stewart looks intimidated, but just as Elizabeth starts to enjoy the clouding of her twisted fantasies, he laughs boisterously and daringly places his hands on her hips to move her over. He picks out another folder from the drawers and opens it up, looking over his shoulder to laugh at her, looking at her like she’s some hysterical woman. All Elizabeth can do is stare back at him in disbelief, the clouds suddenly vanishing in favour of making him a clear cut target. Him with his sweaty upper lip, the uneven stubble shading his jaw, his figure a few weeks skipped from the gym - he who dares to break into what isn’t his and still look down on her. It’s a bloodthirsty rage, almost delusionally so, she wonders if it’s all a hallucination, but his laugh is sharp and loud, and she wants to rip his tongue clean out of his mouth.
"Look, babe, you should get out of here, alright? You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Elizabeth doesn’t move though, just stands her ground, secures her stance and practically growls at him. He rolls his eyes and drops the folder he’d been flicking through on the desk with a loud thud. 
“Fucking hell, what’s it gonna take to get you to fuck off, huh? What, money?” Stewart asks, ridicule thick on his lips as the corners of his mouth curl upward. He digs into the pocket of his trousers and fishes out a worn out wallet, waving it in her face aggressively. She doesn’t flinch, even when he throws it to her feet forcefully and glares at her. “There ain’t shit to even give you.”
Elizabeth softens her brows. She looks down at the wallet splayed out on the ground; bare of any family photo, like most the men who ask for a dance do have. “I don’t want your money.” She replies through her teeth, eyes looking up at him under her lashes. She clenches her fists and squeezes - tries to pop the tensions wrapping around her bones, making her fingers stiff, eager. Then she lifts her head. “I want you to get out.”
Stewart laughs again. This time as he looks up and down her body, it’s with disgust. “Or what?” He mocks, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet. He sticks his tongue in his cheek and scoffs when she doesn’t respond immediately. “This will always be my place, it don’t matter who’s name is on the deed--”
“That’s not how it works--”
“Shut the fuck up, okay?!” He bites back at her, specs of spit flying from his lips, his eyes filled with impatient irritation. Elizabeth’s shoulders drop, something snaps. Not like a flimsy stick, more like an aged, cracking tree finally giving in to the woodsman’s axe. The falling weight, the impending thump, it’s all so familiar and yet intimidatingly unrecognisable at the same time. Stewart closes the space between them. He’s only an inch or two taller, but the way he juts out his jaw and looks down at her even with his head held high, he must see her as an insignificant little mouse. “You’re nothing special, sweetheart. You’re just another pretty face in a town with dozens of ‘em!” 
The muscles in Elizabeth’s body burn almost uncontrollably. She’s minutes away from a forest fire, it festers uncomfortably in her fingers. She digs a pointed nail into his chest and pushes him back, seeing shock briefly flicker across his features. “You’re a disgusting waste of space.”
He lets out a mocking laugh, clearly becoming more frustrated at her stubborn disdain. There’s a brief pause, and before she has time to react, Stewart grabs her by her shoulders and shoves her forcefully against the back wall, unconcerned when she grunts from the pain. Her hands grip his wrists to move him off, but he manages to keep her there, trapped by his sweaty palms. He leans in close with his teeth gritted, a smug, infuriating grin lifting his features.
“You think I give a toss what some slag thinks about me?” He scoffs under his breath, shaking his head, clearly enjoying how she struggles to push him away. “I need money, darling. I know some nasty fuckers who’ll leave me in a body bag if I don’t pay ‘em back, so I’m not about to let some skank get in my way!” He takes a deep breath, and growls softly, looking down to admire the plush of her breasts against her see through top. His hands slide down to grip her hips, force her to stay in place, perfectly for his pleasure, setting in the uneasy claustrophobia. 
Elizabeth already hates affection, it sets off alarm bells in her head, the overwhelming disgust ricocheting through her nervous system. The weight of his hand bruises her bones, aches her something fierce, she wonders how long it will take before the ground beneath her feet caves in.
“The things they’d do to a girl like you. I’m not against telling them who you are, the slut that prevented their pay back--”
“I’m not afraid.” She says through her teeth, quietly, confidently. She can feel the boiling adrenaline coursing through her system with every rage inducing second ticks by. She takes his hands and moves them with an uneasy calmness, offering them back to him like he'd lost them.  She lets her hands return to her sides. She tickles the top of her thigh, inching close to the handle of her hunting knife. “You’re a sad wannabe gangster, and nothing more. If I gave even half a shit, I’d pity you.”
Stewart’s face tightens with a frown. He growls some generic sexist insult and attempts to grab her again, but Elizabeth is faster. She finally reaches into her boot and whips out the knife, plunging it deep into his stomach before he knows what's happening. The impact of the knife rips through cotton and flesh with laughable ease, the burst of skin ripping around the weapon's teeth practically ricocheting through Elizabeth. The anger he had is replaced with fear. She loves it.
She keeps him steady with her hand firmly against his collarbone, eventually turning them around so he lands against the wall she was pressed against seconds ago, with the knife still firmly in her grasp, in his abdomen. Taking a guess, she figures the blade is caught amidst the small intestine, probably snagged the bottom of a kidney, maybe even severed a ureter too. She looks up at his face and smiles wickedly. Blood begins to trickle from the wound and down the pooch of his belly. Watching his face slowly fade a ghostly complexion fills her with glee.
A pitiful plea fumbles past his lips, but she can’t hear it over the drumming.  Her heart thumps like it wants out of her chest, pounding so violently like it's going to crack a rib. Her senses have never been so sensitive, the adrenaline sending her on high alert. She’s always so composed, always trying to be perfect, and now…
She pulls the knife from his body swiftly, dragging his breath on the end of the blade, and watches blood come through the flimsy wound opening, staining his shirt a crimson red. She brings her bottom lip between her teeth and flares her nostrils, mesmerized by her work. Stewart tries to beg for help, taking back the cruelty of his ego, but it’s white noise, only encouraging her to make her own music with the tunes of his screams.
She takes his chin in her hand and grips him tight, nails digging into his cheeks harshly. She lines up the knife with where the tear in his shirt indicates the wound and pushes it back inside, catching his flesh and tearing his torso open more than it previously was. She pushes the knife in deeper this time, up to the bolster of the handle, and twists the blade to grotesquely shift Stewart’s organs. The slippery feel is obvious even without skin contact. More blood begins to pour from his wound urgently. Angling the blade upward, she catches something squishy and tender, and swiftly rips it in a flash as she recoils the knife back to her side. Stewart groans in agony, as he has been doing throughout; Elizabeth was just too excited to notice.   
Tears spill down his face, wetting her fingertips where she still has his face in her hold. She tuts and shakes her head. "Here, let me distract you from the pain," and without wasting a second, she grabs a fistful of his hair and swiftly slams his face down on the desk. A loud sick, wet crunch bounces off the walls, his nose certainly broken. Blood pours from his nostrils and he howls like a wounded animal, dropping to his knees, hands pressing against the agonising pain in his belly. 
Elizabeth moves around to be in front of him. She kneels to get eye level and waits until he finds the energy to look at her. He's fading, it's clear in the whitening of his skin. She enjoys how the look of death illuminates the little colour left in his eyes. An endearingly manic smile lifts her face. The memories of her mother etch their way across Stewart's busted, bloody face.
"Fuck you." She whispers, pronouncing every letter with finesse, punctuating the words with venomous hatred. Stewart's face is more blood than skin, but she can still make out the aching fear as he realises he's about to die. Elizabeth wants to drink it up, savour it in a bottle so she can enjoy it again and again and again. She's been waiting for this. She's needed this.
As he opens his mouth in an attempt to speak, she quickly strikes upward with the knife and forces the blade to puncture through the bottom of his jaw. The jagged teeth tear without strain, pushing through his skin and tongue and the roof of his mouth like they’re delicate pieces of tissue paper, but the blunt surface of his skull catches the blade and brings it to a halt. With his mouth open a crack, Elizabeth can admire the grotesque bursting of his flesh. It resembles the inside of a cherry cobbler.
Stewart tries to scream, but his voice drowns in his own blood. The sound is horrendous, just garbled nonsense as he convulses and regurgitates blood, everything finally shutting down. Specs of blood fly from his mouth, a river of red pours out the corners, and Elizabeth holds eye contact all the way through to the end. When his body finally sags, his eyes hollow of any remaining life, she keeps staring like they have the secrets to eternal happiness. Maybe they do. Maybe this is her happiness. In the ravenous, depraved violence of a murder so messy, she can finally feel something real, something that makes her think everything in her life wasn’t all in vein, but rather were the stepping stones that brought her to her wonderland.
After a few minutes enjoying the glamorous solace, she takes a deep, cleansing breath, closing her eyes. Her heart and mind are both racing like they’re trying to outrun one other, and her senses that were so frantic in murderous pursuit begin to steady. She feels hyper-focused. The million questions filling her mind slot into place perfectly one after another, filing away for later inspection. Who was after Stewart? Will they try to come looking for him? Did he tell anyone where he’d be tonight? Important, but they can wait. Now, the seconds she has in the quiet, looking at the blurred reflection in the framed picture on the wall ahead of her, she listens to the cruelty that’s been haunting her for so long.
“This world’s gonna eat you alive, Lizzie. I can see it in your eyes, you have no fight in ya. Why are you such a weak little bitch, huh? Ever since you were small, I knew you’d amount to nothing...just a pretty face, nothing more.”
Her mother’s voice has been taunting her for too long. She carries on living, thriving, trying to forget her wicked memory, and she continues to abuse her. Things get harder, the stress eats her alive. Merry men throw their wallets with no care, supporting coke stashes, and hiding their wedding rings like they were method acting their bachelor days. Lingering hands, security that didn’t care, and the eyes of a predator always lingering out of view, no matter where she went. Elizabeth was the prey, just like any of the girls, relying on the generosity of vultures. All these years, the repressed rage her mother fueled just getting worse in the lion’s den. Killing the first time was like taking a deep breath before drowning again. Now she can really breathe in the fresh air. She feels clarity better than she ever has.
Elizabeth cracks her neck and pulls the blade out on a deep exhale. She stands up as Stewart’s body collapses in a heap on the floor. Now she has to dispose of his body, clean the office, and act like nothing happened. Tomorrow a construction team comes by to knock everything down and rebuild. Death won’t matter as long as it’s hidden, and Elizabeth doesn’t feel a shred of worry over covering her crimes. She has a plan.
Now she knows what she wants. She wants to tear people apart, see what's on the inside. She wants to do this again, and again, and again...
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kunderdogs · 4 years
Text
Take A Chance VII
Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Y/N (Reader) Genre: Romance / Angst Count: I didn’t count lol sorry Warnings: None Rating: Mature (suggestive, swearing) Summary: Who would’ve thought a one night stand with Simon D would turn into FWB? It only gets more complicated when you developed feelings, against your better judgement.
This gif of Simon D is one of my favs. Pls don’t hate me for the ending. :) Two more chapters left! 
Had to post this early because I got called into work today.
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Chapter One. | Chapter Two. | Chapter Three. | Chapter Four. | Chapter Five. | Chapter Six. | Chapter Seven.
Driving around aimlessly at 9AM was not how you pictured the start of your weekend to go. Then again, you could’ve never imagined Simon would stroll up to your place, drunk as hell and picking fights with you in the middle of the night either. For now, you felt your nerves settle as you drove around the town. You figured you could drive around and get some fresh air. Anything to get your mind off of your intruding thoughts. 
Being in that house with Kiseok just felt so suffocating.
You were cruising through some of the residential neighborhoods when you noticed you were close by Nicky’s house. You smiled and pulled on the side of the street, immediately grabbing your phone and dialing her number. She picked up at the last minute, groaning and complaining of a hangover, before launching into retelling you all of the drama from last night.
“So what do you want to eat? I’ll pick something up for you.” You connected the call to your car before pulling off the street. 
Nicky yawned a bit, “Eh, don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t want you to come all the way over here just to get me breakfast.”
“I’m in your neighborhood anyway so just tell me what you’re in the mood for. Cinnamon rolls? French fries?”
“Why are you in my neck of the woods at,” she paused on the other end, most likely to pull the phone back to check the time. “9:27AM? Couldn’t sleep?”
You sighed a little louder than you intended to, “You could say that. Since you won’t tell me what you want, I’ll surprise you.”
She hummed in agreement, “Don’t forget the OJ! Thank you, love. See in you in bit.”
Saying your goodbyes, it didn’t take long to get to a small cafe about ten minutes from Nicky’s apartment. It was early enough that there wasn’t much customers so you were happy to be in and out of there within a few minutes.
Upon arrival at Nicky’s place, you found her sprawled out on the couch, clothes from last night wrinkled but still in place. Her makeup was wiped off and smeared onto makeup wipes that were on the coffee table. You laughed to yourself, nudging her with your foot when you got closer. She was such a beautiful disaster.
“You look like you’re barely hanging on over here,” you teased, putting the food down on the coffee table before cleaning up the makeup wipes.
Nicky mumbled something in the pillow and reached blindly for the food. “So what’s bothering you, hm?” Her voice followed you into the kitchen.
Washing your hands in the sink, your mind worked to find the right words but they got stuck in your throat. Everything was still so confusing to you.
Yes, you had deep feelings for Kiseok but the reality was that you couldn’t be together.
It was just cruel of your mind to even picture him involved with you in the way you wanted him to be.
Part of you was relieved that you ended it but the other, much larger part, almost immediately regretted it. That part of you wanted to run back into his arms and confess your feelings to him right at this second.
You didn’t realize how loud you sighed until a cold hand wrapped around your wrist. Nicky pulled you to the living room, and began searching for a movie while you got comfortable on the couch
“Does it have anything to do with Lover Boy?” She guessed, eyeing your downcast mood. When you pouted without answering her, she plopped next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”
Nicky always wanted to talk about her problems, which you were completely willing to listen to but when it came to you sharing...It was a little more difficult for you to open up. She was never offended or put off when you didn’t want to talk about your feelings but she was definitely surprised when you nodded.
As Iron Man played in the background, you spilled everything that happened last night. Her sky-colored eyes grew in size as you vented about everything that was said yet she didn’t interrupt you once. By the time you were done, you took a moment to catch your breath and her mouth was hanging open in shock.
“Dear lord, I leave you alone for two seconds and all this happens huh,” she teased, causing a smile to crack on your lips.
Taking a bite of her food, Nicky thought about what she wanted to say before looking at you fully, “So, are you going to tell him or leave it at that?”
Looking to the hanging TV, you sunk back into the couch. What good would come out of you telling Kiseok your feelings for him? Other than getting it off your chest, it would change nothing. If anything, it may even ruin your chances of being friends with him in the future.
If you couldn’t be with Kiseok romantically, you still wanted to be friends. He was always there to listen to you and give you advice, even make you smile when you were stressed or having a bad day. Above all else, you enjoyed his company, even when you two just sat and did absolutely nothing.
You huffed when you noticed Nicky was still waiting for an answer, “There’s nothing more for me to say. I feel like I’ve said all I had to...”
She snorted, “You didn’t say anything of importance. You should go back to your place and talk it out with him.”
“What good would come from that?” You dismissed.
She shrugged, “Maybe he feels the same way. Close mouths don’t get fed.”
The orange juice you were drinking almost came back up through your nose as you snorted. “Yeah, right. If Simon even had an ounce of feelings for me, he wouldn’t be out with that other chick.”
Nicky couldn’t really argue with that point and shook her head, “You know how men are. They don’t realize their feelings until it slaps them in the face. From what you tell me, Simon D is the type of guy to not recognize it right away.”
Sighing again, you felt the tension in your shoulders. “I’ll figure it out later. I just want to rest for a bit. All this is so emotionally draining.”
With an understanding smile, a foot suddenly kicked into your side, forcing you to lay down on the couch. You glared playfully at your best friend while she tossed a throw blanket over your lower half.
“Take a nap. I’m going to shower. Gotta wash away all the bad decisions I made last night.”
Without further ado, Nicky skipped off to her bathroom, your laughter following her down the hallway.
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Usually, you had a hard time falling asleep now that Cookie wasn’t with you, but something about Nicky’s apartment was so cozy that you were out like a light in under five minutes of laying down. It was probably because her couch was just so warm and comfortable.
Either way, you woke up hours later to another Avengers movie playing and Nicky eating brownies at the other end of the couch. You checked your phone to see if Cookie had called or texted, but they were at a water park today so you weren’t expecting a call until they got home, which would be late at night for them. It made you a little sad to not talk to your mini all day but you were glad she was having a good time with your ex’s family.
Sleepy eyes glanced at the time on your phone. “Shit. It’s already 1:30? How long was I out?”
“Since like 10, dude. You must’ve been dead tired.”
Yawning, you sat up and snuggled the blanket into you again. “Still am. I think I’m gonna head home and go to sleep in my own bed though.”
“Are you saying my couch isn’t an acceptable bed?” She teased, knowing damn well you loved her couch more than your own.
“I will steal this one day and replace it with mine.”
“Sure. Text me when you get home. Drive safe! Woah- HEY! Leave the cinnamon rolls!”
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The drive back to your house was uneventful. Oddly enough, there was hardly any traffic out which was a bit odd for a weekend, but you thought nothing of it.The once blue sky was now gray with even darker clouds hanging low. It felt like the calm before the storm. 
You were in no rush to get home, and the feeling only amplified when you pulled up to your apartment and noticed Kiseok’s car still parked in the guest parking.
Sighing, you dragged your feet up to your place and as soon as you were getting off the elevator on your floor, your phone rang. A wide smile broke out on your lips.
“Hi, sweetie! I was waiting for you to call me!” You answered, leaning over the rail that over looked the courtyard garden. “Oh yeah? How was the water park?”
A few minutes into your conversation, you were so engrossed with listening to her ramble about her favorite rides, that you didn’t notice the opening or closing of a door down the hall. Heavy footsteps came closer to you, but you paid it no mind. Other than yourself, there was two other families that lived on this floor so it wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“Mommy missed you too. Your daddy being nice to you?” You laughed when you heard a huff on the other side of the phone. “No, I didn’t have dinner yet. I’ll have some later- oh, okay. Tell your grandmother I said hi, okay?”
The sound of someone clearing their throat alerted you to the body leaning on the rail a few feet from you.
Jung Kiseok, still in his clothes from last night, peered down at the garden beneath you two. When he noticed your attention on him, he glanced to you. “Can we talk?”
Jesus, he literally came out of nowhere! Noticing your jaw hanging slightly, you swallowed before agreeing with your daughter. “Yes, baby, it’s okay. Go shower and go to sleep. Thank you for calling me. I love you. Goodnight...”
The ending dial tone sounded much too loud for your ears as the silence in the hallway was almost suffocating. It was quiet for sometime, since the two of you didn’t say anything. Kiseok was trying to find the words to say, and you had too much you didn’t want to uncover.
This conversation was inevitable but you still wanted to avoid it. The lump in your throat only grew when he sighed deeply. It seemed like he was about to say something, until the elevators opened and two small blurs sprinted out. “I-”
The Choi twins were your neighbor’s kids and it was only another two seconds before you saw their mother chase after them. You giggled after them, those two were always giving their mother a hard time.
“Sorry about that,” A deep voice apologized. You nodded to the twin’s father, who was holding a tiny baby wrapped in blankets to keep him warm.
“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a smile but didn’t miss the double take he did to your company.
“Maybe we should go inside?” Kiseok pushed off from the rail and waved slightly to a wide-eyed Mr. Choi.
You took the advice without a word, leading the way to your front door though he would’ve had no problem finding it himself. Once inside, you kicked your sandals off and dropped your purse on the entry table.
The door shut tightly behind him, entrapping the both of you in a thick silence that didn’t go unnoticed. You sunk into the couch, giving him enough room to sit near you without touching you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it surely wasn’t that. Could you really be surprised though? Suspecting what he was asking, you had to make sure you two were on the same page.
“Tell you about what?”
Tired dark eyes stared you down, “Let’s not go back and forth. I know you have a daughter and I’m not sure what kind of problems you and your husband have, but cheating is never the way to go about it.”
You tried to stop the loud laughter that spilled out of you, but that was so far from what you thought he would say. You honestly couldn’t help it, and soon, you had tears in your eyes as you were literally rolling around the couching laughing.
Kiseok did not look amused in the slightest - his lips thinned into a hard line, brows frowned to display his seriousness of the topic. “This really isn’t something to laugh about. I refuse to be some kind of homewrecker.”
You had finally got your giggles under control when he said that, launching you into another fit of laughter. “What! You think-?! Oh my god, I haven’t laughed like that in a while,” you giggled, wiping the spilling tears from your eyes.
Feeling his glare, you sat up and took a breath. The tension was a bit less in the room. “I’m not married.”
He didn’t believe you. “You have family pictures-”
“In my daughter’s room, yes.”
He dismissed your interruption, “I saw that man at the airport when you ran into Jay Park. He hugged you and you were crying.”
You paused, blinking slowly. How did he see that? “How do you know that?”
The way he sighed with finality made you feel a bit defensive. “Jay was FaceTiming me and Loco. The main point of this is I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever you have with your husband.”
Eyes rolling, you crossed your arms under your chest. “Stop saying that. I’m not married.”
“Why are you lying? You have a child with him.” The tone of his voice raised slightly but you frowned at him.
“You can make a kid without being married to someone. Me and my daughter’s father aren’t together. I’m no cheater. Unlike you, I don’t have a list of hoes I can run to.” The words left your mouth but you regretted it immediately. Your personality didn’t allow you to apologize or take it back, especially with how heated you were becoming.
Sitting less than a foot away from you, Kiseok couldn’t really argue with that. You were right. He called Nayoung because she didn’t care for a relationship and he had wanted to...hurt you the same way he had been hurt after seeing you in the arms of another man.
It was childish of him, he’ll admit it, but it happened. He was only human and he had acted on his emotions. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments. Once you brushed past him at the restaurant with tears in your eyes, he had felt sick to his stomach about the whole thing. It wasn’t like he knew you would be there that night, it was honestly a terrible coincidence. After that night, he couldn’t even look Nayoung in the eyes without seeing your heartbroken expression.
Prideful at heart, Kiseok still felt the need to defend himself even if it was a weak defense, “I don’t have a list of hoes. That was me being an idiot.”
“Whatever, Kiseok. I don’t care anymore.” Calling him without an honorific gave you a sinking feeling in your stomach but you looked away from him. “What more do you want from me?”
With that, he faced you fully, “Everything. I want to know everything, about your daughter, your past, the truth about all of it.”
Startled, you faced him with doubt clouding your face. “Why? Why does any of that matter to you? Why do you even care?”
For the first time today, you saw Kiseok smile. Not a smirk, or half grin that he liked to flash you when he teased you, but a real smile with his teeth showing. Looking closer, he also was a little rosy in the cheeks a bit. “I-Well...I thought it was obvious now, but you’re really dense.”
You thought you knew where this was going so you sighed, “Look, I’m not a charity case, okay? I can-”
“I really like you, ___. Not just in a sexual way either. I like you on an emotional level...I really, really like you,” he confessed in a rush, sounding just like you felt at the moment - breathless.
And then your heart started to ache.
“Kiseok...we can’t...we can’t be together.”
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whiskey-bumblebee · 5 years
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amore mio
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Pairing: Mob!Kylo x Reader Word Count: 1.6k A/N: okay so turns out that the song in Gilda is ‘amado mio’, which is Spanish and makes sense because her and Johnny are in Argentina but I... am a Fool and didn’t realize it wasn’t Italian (amore mio) until after I’d made my edit so,.. don’t kill me ? so the title of the fic is amore mio and the song it’s inspired by is amado mio, capisce? bueno Tagging: @babbushka​
He hadn’t planned on being here tonight. But here he was, in a stupid fuckin’ booth eating fries that were too salty, moping.
At least the whiskey was decent. With that thought, he nodded to Silas, who was sitting across the bar, and raised his glass in thanks. Silas had gone across town to buy a bottle of Kylo’s favorite.
Well, it wasn’t as if he would say no. Kylo was already pissed enough that he had to attend a mix and mingle event to fix the impression that his idiot father had given. The least anyone could do was buy him a decent fucking drink to keep him-  “Fuck,” he swore under his breath. Blood leaked out of his finger. He hadn’t even realized he’d been chewing at his cuticles. Drawing a deep breath to fight the urge to roll his eyes, he glanced over at the stack of napkins on the table and grimaced.
He wasn’t a germophobe or nothin’, but man, those could not be clean.
Kylo did close his eyes then, dipped the corner of the filthy fuckin’ thing into his tumbler before pressing it to his finger.
“Ay,” came a voice from the booth over his shoulder.
Nonplussed, Kylo looked over. “What?” “You gonna talk to anyone?”  “Jesus Christ, they really did send me here with a handler.” “Friend.” The burly man corrected.
“Handler,” Kylo scoffed, downing the last of his glass. Setting it down on the table with a heavy hand, he looked over at the man again.
“Keep my booth empty, I like this one.”
The man nodded and Kylo walked over to the bar. He moved to sit, then clenched his jaw as he remembered to ‘mingle’. With an eyebrow raise at the bartender, he made a mental note to figure out what this was punishment for once he was back home.
“What can I get ya?” “Nothing right now, I’m the dickhead who’s sponsoring the Midnight Blend. I just wanted to ask if there’s anyone here worth talking to.”
It was brisk, but he wasn’t in the mood to chat with the bartenders. Not when his whole night was looking like niceties and handshakes. The bartender nodded.
“Red suit seems pretty interesting. If you’re not in the mood to talk, navy baroque will do it for you. Ladies?” Kylo’s shoulders lifted in a shrug, and felt a wave of regret almost as soon as he’d done it. How embarrassing was that? Being asked about ladies and fucking shrugging?
“I could go for a lay, but I don’t do long term.” 
The words crystallized into truth as they left his lips. Sex hadn’t been on his mind while he’d been here, but now that he’d thought about it, it did seem like a better nightcap than the rest of the bottle.
His face turned sour again as he thought about how the night was likely to end. Alone on his balcony, the whole fuckin’ city probably getting laid while he looked down from his penthouse, drunk off his ass and thinking too much. 
Jesus Christ, he thought. The first half of a familiar demon crept into his mind and he pushed it back. ‘What if the rest of your life-’
He cleared his throat and realized the bartender had been giving recommendations the whole time. The bartender stopped and looked at Kylo then. Kylo just nodded and walked away, too tired to think about how to reply to a conversation he’d forgotten he was in.
What felt like hours passed, but the wrought iron clock confirmed it had only been three quarters of an hour. The handler looked smug, so maybe Kylo could go home. He tried to raise an eyebrow to ask for approval, but the man wouldn’t meet his eye.
Kylo assumed that was a no.
He turned around, rolling his eyes so hard it almost gave him a headache, and cursed under his breath.
When he opened his eyes though, he froze.
Descending the stairs in red, smiling playfully down into the band pit at the base of the stairwell. No name yet, but when he saw you, everything about you was in capital letters.
Your lips matched your dress matched your shoes and Kylo’s finger was at his mouth again, worrying his cuticles.
Before he could overthink it, he made his way to the bottom of the stairs and extended his arm.
You took it gratefully, the transition from stairs to floor made significantly easier.
Kylo didn’t even know there was an upstairs to this place. For all he knew, you came directly down from heaven and the stairs would vanish as you stepped off them. His thoughts were a mile a minute, but externally he was cool as ever.
“Drink?”
You nodded and gave him a little smile. 
“What’s my budget?”
Kylo smiled then, a little smile but a grin all the same. 
“Whatever you want.” “Well, I know what I want, but I know for a fact it isn’t here.” You had the kind of voice that convinced Kylo everything you were saying was extremely important, hinting at something deeper than he could understand.
“You a regular?”
“Something like that.”  There was that little smile again as you glanced at him. It had him weak in the fucking knees. 
“Well, I can send a friend across town to get it, if you feel that strongly about it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have a cosmo.” “Well now I’m curious. What’s your poison?” “It’s a rare Johnnie Walker.” Slight irritation colored your tone. “Midnight Blend?”
You quirked an eyebrow. Kylo read impressed.
“I took the liberty of buying a bottle and bringing it here when I found out they didn’t have it.”
You made a face that Kylo didn’t understand, a mix of impressed and offended. He realized he’d been asking all the basics. Regular, preferred drink. He kicked himself. Might as well have started with ‘come here often?’
For a moment you turned away, and Kylo was worried this was it. He’d missed his shot. When he followed the line of your gaze, he saw the clock again. You looked back at him.
“Touch early for midnight blend, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I’ll probably be drinking it ‘til midnight.”
He kicked himself again at how boring he sounded, and opened his mouth to say something, but you spoke first.
“So how about that cosmo?”
He relaxed again, nodded and walked you to the bar. For a moment he forgot why he was here. Fuck all that, he wasn’t gonna spend a second on those idiots now that you were here. 
He ordered, then thought too much about the ethics of looking at women and seeing them as a means of sex instead of as people. He brushed it off as a dry spell and decided he’d prove himself wrong by getting to know you.
“Thank you for the drink,” You smiled, touched his arm. 
No no no no, he thought. You couldn’t be leaving already. He hadn’t even asked you anything.
“It’s my pleasure. Do you want to sit in a booth? It’s quieter over there.”
You nodded, surprised him.
This time hours actually had passed. Well, almost two hours. You were laughing and leaning on him. He’d dropped all the names he could, bought you all the drinks you wanted. His confidence had risen as you’d moved closer to him at the booth. Your thighs were nudging each others’ every time you breathed now.
“So, I gotta ask, what makes you think you can come in here, looking like you own the fuckin’ place?”
You laughed with soul, harder than you had all night, and Kylo knew it was genuine. Your hand was on his arm again and he thought he’d die if you ever took it off. 
“I do actually. You know, own the place.” You gestured vaguely, wrist circling a few times before coming back to rest on your other hand.
Kylo laughed then. 
“You’ve been letting me rack up a fuckin’ tab buying you booze when you own the place?”
He was teasing, you knew it. Knew it by the sparkle in his eye and the way he was smiling.
“Hey well,” You shrugged. “You felt the need to stock it up with Midnight Blend, so I’m no different, right?”
He smiled, shrugged back. “You look incredible, by the way.”
“Thank you. It’s the dress’ first night out.”
You both paused for a moment then, sensing that what you said next would determine where the night went.
In the silence, Kylo realized that you were one of the people he’d been sent to get back on good terms with. If you owned the restaurant.... shit. You were a higher-up.
“I did, uh, tell you my name, right? Kylo Ren?”
You nodded, eyes still locked on his, still touching his arm and pressing your thigh against his. Waited for him to go on, then you remembered why he was so surprised.
“Oh, I’m meant to have a grudge against you, is that it?”
“Something like that,” Kylo mumbled into his drink, mood changing rapidly.
“Well, I like to form my own opinions.”
That was the sexiest thing you’d said all night. With the way you leaned up real close to say it, Kylo could feel your breath on his cheek. When he turned his face, you were right there.
He didn’t know it, but you had been about to kiss him.
Kylo smirked. “What do you say, we clear my tab and head back to mine?” You rolled your eyes playfully and leaned back. “What do you say, you pay your tab, I tell my family you’re all good and we head back to mine?”
He pretended to think it over, then looked back at you with a smile.
“Where is yours?” You pointed directly up. “Shorter walk than yours, I’m assuming.”
He nodded. “Want to hear a bad line?” His smile was devious as you nodded back and he leaned to whisper in your ear.
“What do you say we make this the dress’ first night off?”
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lia-jones · 4 years
Text
Growing Stronger - Chapter Twenty - The Toothfairy Isn’t Real
I woke up to his soft lips teasing my ear.
“Are you spending the whole day in bed?” His low morning voice was warm and enticing, pleasantly forcing me out of my slumber.
I felt his body move away, letting the cold morning air seep into the comforter. Moaning, I opened my eyes slightly, barely a slither, trying to see what time it was. It was still early, and the sun was just rising.
“It’s Saturday… Too early for a Saturday.” I complained, moving closer to him, seeking the comfort of his warmth. I sighed in contentment when his strong arms enveloped me.
“If you stay in bed all day, how am I going to show you your surprise?” His mouth was very close to my ear, forming into a mischievous smile. The movement gave me shivers.
“What surprise?” I mumbled, not registering what he had said.
“If I tell you, it won’t be much of a surprise, will it?” Oooo, he was good. Too good for his own good.
Victor was perfectly aware of how I would react to the word ‘surprise’. He chuckled as I practically jumped away from his arms to face him, an excited look on my face.
“What surprise?” I insisted, feeling excited. I was surely in for a treat, and Victor seemed to be in a great mood. My heart jumped with joy.
“Go get ready.” He ordered, getting up, not before softly squeezing my butt. “I’m going to start breakfast.”
I nearly inhaled the pancakes he served me, curious to see what was in store for me. Victor kept a satisfied smirk, slowly sipping his coffee while reading the news on his phone.
As we were about to leave, I took my phone from the table to put it away in my purse. Victor softly held my wrist, a stern look on his face.
“No phone.” He scolded. “No work, no emails, and no emergency calls either. Today is about relaxing.”
“They are called emergency calls for a reason.” I complained, holding my phone tight in my hand. “There may be some issue, and my team will-”
“Will have to figure it out without you.” Despite my protests, Victor took my phone away. “It’s Saturday . Besides, most companies are closed for the weekend. I’m sure the emergency can wait till Monday.”
I reluctantly accepted my fate, not wanting to spoil a day that had started so gloriously. I had to admit Victor was right. The study was taking all of my time, even the time I was supposed to rest, and that was taking its toll on me. It was time to draw the line.
Also, it was so good to see Victor back to his old self. He took some time to recover, and it was sometimes very painful for him, but he had started to work again, surprisingly listening to me and easing into it, instead of jumping right in. He seemed to be pain-free, returning to his morning jog and laps in the pool. He didn’t even limp anymore. It had been a huge surprise to see him take the car keys and drive himself to work one day. I had expected him to hesitate getting inside a car by himself, but no, the mighty CEO would not let a pesky thing like the trauma of being smashed by a truck hold him back in anything.
Victor drove us past the outskirts of the city, towards the lake, leading us to an area I had never been before. It seemed to be a more rural region, devoted mostly to agriculture, judging by the cultivated fields and orchards siding the roads.
“I don’t think I have ever been around these parts before.” I commented, as I watched the view through my window. For some reason, this reminded me of my summers at my grandmother’s house, in the countryside, or our trips to go olive picking in November.
“I did promise to show you Loveland.” Victor replied, taking his trained eyes from the road for a second to give me a loving glance.
“And what is Mr. Lee showing me, exactly?” I softly caressed his neck, trying to pry some information from him. He gulped, trying to keep his cool under my enticing touch.
“I’m driving.” He scolded, blushing slightly. “Don’t be impatient, you’ll know soon enough.”
We left the strawberry fields and the view of the lake far in the distance, and made a turn to the deep forest. After what seemed like a mile of dirt road surrounded by luscious trees, we encountered an iron gate. Victor spoke into the intercom, simply stating it was him, and the gates opened wide, inviting us in. My curiosity grew exponentially.
Victor parked the car in front of this huge countryside mansion, with rustic red rooftops and built with light stones, large windows, as well as a green well-manicured garden that embellished it displayed its opulence. The large wooden front door swung open, and from it emerged, to my surprise,Aunt Terry.
“Andrea! So nice to see you!” She greeted me with a hug as soon as I left the car. “Welcome to my evil lair!” She joked, gaining a chuckle both from me and Victor.
“It’s beautiful! Thanks for having me.” I looked around, dazzled. “Really wonderful.”
“It’s all mine now.” She proudly announced. “Gregory lent me his property to raise my horses, but I finally bought it from him.” She turned to Victor. “Your father didn’t tell you?”
Victor chuckled, shaking his head, like the idea of his father having a decent conversation with him was ridiculous.
“Congratulations. So all of this is yours now?” Victor came close to me, putting his hand on my waist.
“All 500 acres of it. It feels like a dream.” She said, looking around. “Come, Andrea, let me get you something to drink. Also, Victor, Mina is dying to see you.”
“You are going to meet Mina.” Victor gave me a wide smile, seemingly excited with the idea.
“Who is Mina?” I asked, discreetly.
“Only the kindest person I have ever known. Present company excluded, of course.” He leaned his head against mine, and my heart beat hard with anticipation. This was him letting me in, showing me the people he cared about, making me part of his life. This was huge. It was like meeting the parents, minus the heavy confrontation.
“When I was a kid I used to spend the summers with my aunt, especially after my mother died. Mina used to work for my father then, and she would come as well to take care of me. I learned to ride a horse here, and I still come here to ride Onyx from time to time. You’ll meet him as well.”
Victor navigated that large mansion like it was his own home, which made sense in light of the new information he provided me. The house had antique, wooden pillars everywhere, old but elegant furniture. It was extremely bright, though, and had a homey vibe, with lots of light and vases with flowers from the garden in every corner.
We waltzed into the kitchen like it was nothing. We found a petite old lady with short, pure white hair and a friendly face, preparing some ice tea. Her eyes were wide and bright as soon as she heard Victor greet her.
“Hummingbird!” She practically flew to his arms, Victor welcoming her with a loving embrace. “I was so worried when Miss Terry told me you were hurt! I wanted to see you, but I also know you hate having too many people around.” Victor’s eyes watched lovingly as she ranted along. “And you brought… a girlfriend? Who is this lovely lady? Ooo, she’s beautiful!”
Mina smiled widely at me. I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot too. I was yet to say a word to her and I could already tell she was one of those people that just filled the room with love. My heart felt tight in my chest, happy that Victor had people like Mina in his life.
“Mina, this is Andrea.” Victor introduced us, a light in his eyes. “Yes, she’s my girlfriend. Andrea, this is Mina. She is like a mother to me.”
“We did have good moments, didn’t we?” She gave Victor a meaningful look. “Andrea, it’s very nice to meet you. Terry actually already spoke highly of you, told me how loyal and kind you are to our Vicky. I’m delighted to know he has good people in his life.” Her eyes were suddenly sad, and she came closer to Victor, holding his cheek. “He’s been through so much already. He deserves to be happy.”
At that moment, there was this feeling of… companionship between them. Like two soldiers that meet twenty years after the war. There was a silent exchange of sadness, happiness, tenderness, love; moments that solidify a relationship and make the bond unbreakable. It was clear to me that, in some moment of their lives, they were everything for each other. I felt my eyes prickle, just looking at them, communicating silently, an ocean of mute words between them. Victor’s strong young hand held Mina’s wrinkled one in a way that clearly showed that that very same hand was his solace, when his hand was much smaller.
“Anyways!” Mina broke the silence, her voice strained. “Let me finish that ice tea! I will take it to the terrace, go show Andrea around!”
“We have plenty of time, don’t worry. We can wait and take it with us. Did Aunt Terry ask you to prepare the thing?” He was suddenly very cryptic. I was suddenly very curious.
“The thing!” Mina’s eyes opened wide in recognition. “I did, respecting all your careful instructions. I also added some things of my own that you surely would miss.”
“Thanks, Mina. Can I take this now?” Victor pointed to the tray with the jar of iced tea and some glasses.
“Yes, please.” Victor took the tray and we walked outside to the terrace.
Terry was already sitting at the table at the terrace, holding what looked like a photo album. Victor recognized it immediately, a prompt frown on his face.
“Don’t you even think about it.” He warned.
“Oh, come on!” Terry complained. “Who do I have to show these to?”
“What are they?” I asked. Could it be baby pictures? It looked like baby pictures.
“Nothing.” Victor rushed to answer.
“Baby pictures.” Terry answered at the same time.
I practically flew to sit by her side, excited.
“I gotta see that.” I smiled widely, noticing Victor’s blush.
It turns out, Victor was a lovely baby. I saw his pictures since he was just a newborn, laying in his mother’s arms, until his teenage years, a mess of pimples and puberty and braces. Apparently we all go through the same things, tomboy Portuguese girls and proud CEOs in the making alike.
“Your mother was beautiful.” I commented, looking at her, a soft smile on her face, holding a wide smiling toddler, practically covered in melted ice-cream. Victor looked a lot like his father, but the softness he had in his expression sometimes was clearly from his mother.
“And look how chubby Victor was!” Terry cooed, making Victor blush even more. “Look at these dimples! These fatty little legs! Can’t you just eat them?”
I stifled a laugh, looking at my boyfriend lowering his head, agonizing with embarrassment.
“Why are we doing this?” Victor complained, his voice dripping with frustration. “There is no point in this. I was a baby, I’m not a baby anymore. End of story.”
“Of course there is a point! At least Andrea will know what to expect, should you someday have some little Victors running around the house!”
I think she was expecting me to laugh, or respond some other way, because her eyes went wide with mortification when I didn’t. I tried to look as neutral as possible, but I guess the sadness I felt couldn’t be concealed. I could not have little Victors running around the house. That weighed on me like a ton of bricks.
“Oh my, talk about sticking my foot in my mouth!” She exclaimed, holding my hands. “That was totally out of line, you are not even married yet, and here I am, jumping the gun! I am sorry, Andrea, please don’t read into what I said, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I tried to smile as honestly as I could.
“It’s ok, Terry, you were joking, I got it.” I excused her. It was evident she had no intention of hurting me, she didn’t even know. “I’m not offended.”
“Well, I should leave anyway, I have to meet a client in a few minutes. I’ll leave the album here, keep up the good work and keep making Victor blush, ok?”
I chuckled, trying to look upbeat. Apparently satisfied to see me laugh again, Terry left. Victor didn’t buy it though. He sat closer to me, holding me against him, lowering his head to meet my eyes.
“Are you ok?” He asked in a soft hushed voice.
“I’m fine, don’t worry.” I downplayed it.
“Let me show you something.” He grabbed the photo album and skimmed the pages, stopping when he found his picture by the Christmas tree, smiling widely, missing his two top front teeth.
“Awww, toothless Vicky. Very cute.” I gave him a week smile, trying to lift myself from my funk.
“This picture has a very embarrassing story. Do you want to hear it?” He lifted my chip with his finger, smiling at me.
“Are you willing to share it?” I frowned. That was some unusual show of goodwill.
“I want to see you smile. I will do whatever it takes to have it, even make a fool of myself.” He smiled softly at me.
If Victor wanted me not to cry, he did a terrible job. My eyes teared up immediately, not for sadness, but because my heart felt so much love it had to spill some out.
“Ok, back to the story.” Victor cleared his throat. “It was Christmas Eve, and Mina was making saltwater taffy. My mother and I loved it, but we would only have it on special occasions, like Christmas.” He paused, making sure I was listening carefully. “I was seven at the time, and I was just dying to get my hands on that taffy. I watched Mina as she cooked the taffy and let it cool slightly so she could stretch it. My father called her for some reason, and I saw my opportunity.”
“You stole the taffy?” I smiled. I pictured little Victor, running around the kitchen, excited for candy. Funny how we let preconceptions limit us so much when it comes to knowing people. It was hard to imagine the dictatorial man Victor showed himself to be had been a mischievous child too.
“I bit a big chunk out of it and got out of there as fast as I could, so I wouldn’t be caught.” He smiled at me, seemingly proud of his cunning achievement. “It was only later, playing by myself in my room, that I noticed something different about me. My two upper central incisors were missing. They fell out and I swallowed them with the taffy.”
“I swallowed one of mine while eating an apple.” I offered. “But I don’t see how that is embarrassing.”
“I was really concerned because I had two teeth that fell  out, which meant the tooth fairy would come and give me two gifts. But in this case, I had no teeth to give back. See my predicament?”
“The tooth fairy wouldn’t come.” I concluded, dramatically. To a seven-year-old, this was obviously a reason for distress.
“I spent all afternoon checking my… You know.” Victor blushed slightly. “I felt like the universe was punishing me for eating the taffy without permission. Losing my teeth and my gifts seemed like some sort of sentence for my misbehavior.”
“Poor baby…” I laughed, running my fingers through his bangs.
“It’s not over yet. Before dinner, my mother called me. Asked me if I had been eating taffy before it was done. I was riddled with guilt, so I started crying, and told her everything I had done, and how I was already being punished for being disobedient, since the tooth fairy wouldn’t come. My mother broke in laughter. She was tearing up.”
“She laughed?” I laughed too.
“Turns out I hadn’t swallowed my teeth. I left them in the taffy. That’s how Mina and my mother figured out I was the taffy thief.” As Victor told his story, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. “And apparently they didn’t tell me right away because they couldn’t stop laughing. I wanted to be mad at them for letting me feel so bad for so long, but I was actually exhilarated. I would be visited by Santa and the tooth fairy on the same night. That was quite a feat.”
“So the tooth fairy came?” I could barely catch a breath to ask.
“The tooth fairy came." Victor nodded. "Guess what she left me.”
“What?” I stifled a laugh in anticipation. It had to be good.
“A whole batch of taffy. It didn’t take long for me to figure the tooth fairy wasn’t real.”
I burst out laughing again, Victor joining me. That was probably the best childhood story I had ever heard. After a few minutes the laughter subsided, and I watched as Victor smiled, lost in thought.
“My mother was an incredibly insightful woman, well versed in so many aspects. She had this joy for life, this incredible sense of humor. She wouldn’t miss a pun; she would turn anything into a joke. She was like the sun; everywhere she went, it became brighter. She lived like her mission in this world was to love and laugh and make sure everyone around her loved and laughed too.”
Part of me wondered how Victor’s mother ended up with someone like Greg. But they had gone through so much in their lives, maybe he had been a bright and happy person too. Maybe with the sun missing, all Victor’s father had left was the clouds. I suddenly felt a wave of affection and sympathy towards that seemingly hard man. It is hard to lose someone you love, someone you chose to build a life with. Victor turned to me, a loving light in his eyes.
“You know, I thought my mother was one of a kind, but I was wrong. You are so much like her.”
My eyes started to water for the millionth time that day. I hugged him tight.
“Victor…” My voice quivered. I loved that man so much. There were no words to explain what I felt.
“You are my sun.” He softly whispered in my ear. “I love you, Andrea. That’s all that matters to me. Don’t think about what you can’t do. You already do so much. You light up my life.”
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sakuswritersblog · 5 years
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Accidentally Engaged - Part 1 of a Noah Centineo Mini Series
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A/N: Hey everyone. The Noah Centineo mini-series I promised you is finally here! This story is based on the movie ‘Accidentally Engaged’ which some of you might be familiar with. I just changed a few bits and pieces of the storyline to adapt it to Noah’s life, but otherwise kept most of the plot the same. If you’ve already seen the film you’ll know how the story ends. I still hope that those who watched it, still decide to read this series since I worked really hard on this idea. Plus you’ll get a little bit of asshole Noah which I had a lot of fun with as well!
This is an AU because a lot of Noah’s lifestyle and family dynamic is different than from his actual life. I had to change these things, so they’d work with the story I was going for. Ps: I have nothing against Camila Mendes!! I actually think she’s amazing, so please don’t hate me for using her as the mean girl.
you can read part 2 here  and part 3 here
****
Everyone had dreams growing up. Some dreamed about being a doctor, firefighter or police officer while others dreamed about marrying a prince or being a wizard and going to Hogwarts. My dream had always been the same. Ever since I was little I wanted to be an actress in Hollywood, playing alongside acting icons such as Angelina Jolie or Leonardo Di Caprio. 
   I've always loved acting and jumping into different characters. I joined every drama club in all of the schools I went to and felt at home whenever I was on stage or standing in front of a camera. 
Despite a lot of people telling me to give up and move on from my dreams, I was determined to make them a reality. So, after I finally graduated from college, I packed up my old, boring life in Conway and moved out to Los Angeles, the city where dreams were supposed to come true. Once I got here though reality decided to hit me right in the face. 
Moving out to L.A. didn't launch me to where I wanted to be and I soon started to realize that working in this industry was harder than I first anticipated. The standards and competition I was up against were nothing like I ever expected. I knew that being rejected was part of the job, but it still wasn't easy to deal with, especially if it happened over and over again. I didn't give up though. I went from audition to audition, fighting for my dreams and working my butt off to better myself in every possible way. 
Luckily all of the hard work I put into improving myself eventually paid off and I finally managed to land a small role in an upcoming movie. While a role with less than ten lines wouldn’t seem like much to many people, it meant a lot to me. Now I finally had the chance to prove everyone wrong and most importantly prove to myself that I was good enough.
I was backstage with the makeup artist and stylist who were helping me get ready for my first shoot ever while waiting for my cue to go on set. The movie I was a part of was called Coffeeshop Crush, starring two of the biggest stars in Hollywood right now. The male lead was played by Noah Centineo, the internet's sweetheart who every girl wanted to be with, while the female lead was portrayed by Camila Mendes, a beautiful yet very presumptuous actress. Of course, it was an honor to play alongside these two talented actors, but I didn't really understand the big fuss everyone made about them. 
  “Alright, so we got you your director approved apron. I like this one a lot better than the other one.“ Kelly, the stylist said as she put it on me. I smiled at her, nodding. 
  “So... I saw his abs.“ She said, clearly talking about Noah Centineo. 
  Sidney, the makeup artist gasped, “Seriously?“ Kelly nodded, “Yeah. He just ripped his shirt of right in front of me. He got abs for days.“ She explained, fangirling a little. 
“And what did you do?“ Sidney asked while she continued doing my makeup.
      “What any girl would do, of course. I asked him to take a selfie with me for my Instagram so I can brag about meeting him to all of my friends.“ The both of them just started laughing while I just sat there and smiled, listening to them gushing about Noah. 
  “Are you gonna be able to look into his eyes without stumbling over your lines?“ Sidney asked, looking at me. 
  “I'm sure, I'll manage. I mean he's just a person like everyone else, right?“ I answered, looking back at them. 
“Right.“ The both of them answered simultaneously before starting to laugh. 
   “Okay, we're ready for her. Let's go.“ The assistant interrupted as she walked in to come and pick me up. I nodded and followed her. 
  The set we used for the first scene was a coffee shop where I played the waitress, which was quite ironic considering I worked as a waitress in real life too. 
 “Okay, everyone. Quiet on set! We're running in 3...2...1... and action!“
Noah walked in and sat down in front of Camila, who was already seated at a table. She looked up and smiled at him, “Hi.“ 
 Noah smiled back at her, “I didn't see you last Friday.“ He said, looking at her. 
  “Or the Friday before. But you were here-“ 
 “Three Friday's ago.“ Both of them said at the same time before laughing with each other. 
  “I thought I'd never see you again.“ Noah said, probably making every girl's heart beat faster by the way he delivered this line. 
  “Well, I'm here now.“ Camila responded, looking at him with loving eyes.
  Noah smiled, “Let me buy you a cup of coffee.“ He waved at me which was my cue to walk in. My heart was beating like crazy, but I tried to ignore it. I took a deep breath before walking into the scene with a pot of coffee in my hands and a big smile on my face. 
I started to pour some coffee into Camila's mug, “Can I get you anything else?“ I asked before pouring some into the other mug as well.
Noah shook his head, “I think I got everything I need right here in front of me,“ before he could continue with his next line, the lid of the coffepot slipped off, causing the coffee to spill on both Camila and Noah's clothes. They both gasped before jumping off their seats. 
“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!“ I apologized, feeling awful about messing up the scene. 
I looked at Camila and apologized again, “I'm so sorry.“ She just glared at me and said, “Uhm no,“ before walking away from me. 
I sighed and turned to Noah, “I didn't know the lid wasn't-“   
“Don't sweat it. Wardrobe has doubles.“ He said, patting my shoulder before walking over to the wardrobe to change. 
Once he left, the director approached me. “You come with me.“ I sighed and followed her, knowing I screwed up. She walked me out of set and immediately fired me. She also told me that someone like me didn't deserve to call herself an actress and that I should probably reconsider my life choices. 
   I left the building, feeling like crap. I got into my car and decided to drive over to my Agent Natalie. I knew she would probably give me one of her famous pep talks, which was exactly what I needed after I just ruined my acting career. 
“Oh honey, you always gotta check your props,“ Natalie told me after I explained what had happened. 
I sighed, pacing through the room. “I know that now. Gosh, I made a complete fool of myself in front of two of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now.“ 
“Oh, please. Camila Mendes is a notorious diva. It was probably her bad karma that caused it to happen in the first place. And Noah... he's sexy and all, but no brain's above. I doubt he'd remember you if he saw you.“ She said, trying to comfort me. 
“Natalie... I know how hard you worked to get me that audition.“ 
  “Forget it, okay? You still got paid and we'll keep it on your headshot until we get you something better.“ 
  “Yeah, but what if this small part could've lead to something bigger? It was the first role I got after two years and I messed it all up.“ 
 Natalie looked at me, a small smile on her face. “(Y/N), it was seven lines. It's not the end of the world or your career. You're still young.“ 
  “So is Camila.“   
“Do not compare yourself to her, (Y/N). You are such a talented actress. So, you're not all lips and lashes like Camila. You're beautiful just the way you are. You look like a storybook princess. You're vulnerable yet you're strong. Honey, you have star quality. That's why I signed you, okay?“ 
I nodded, “You're right. Besides... If I don't believe in myself who will, right?“
Natalie smiled, “See, you are a great actress.“ 
I looked at her confused, “what?“
“Well... even though you're down on your luck and you don't believe a word you just said, you still had me convinced.“
I smiled at her, “Thanks, Natalie.“ 
   I was right about her being able to make me feel better and giving me the pep talk I needed because she did. She was definitely the best agent I could have ever asked for and I was glad to be signed to her. 
“Alright. You go home and get some rest and I'm gonna get you out for a commercial audition on Friday at two in Studio City, okay?“ 
“Oh, I can't. I'm going back home for a bridal shower, remember?“ “Yes, you're maid of honor at your best friend's wedding, right?“
I nod, “The honor is all mine.“ 
“Well, it'll be good for you to get away and not think about auditions and Hollywood for a while. Go and have some fun.“ 
I smiled and got up from my seat, before walking towards the door. “Oh and (Y/N)?“ 
I turned around, looking back at her. “Life is a movie if you let it be. I know.“
Natalie smiled at me. “Alright, go and have some fun. Bye, honey.“ 
“Bye.“ I waved at her before leaving her office and walking back to my car. ****
I was working my early shift at the café that paid for most of my bills while trying to clear my head from yesterday's events. I still couldn't believe that I lost my first ever movie role because of some stupid mistake I made. I know Natalie told me that losing my role wasn't the end of the world or my career, but it definitely still hurt. I let out a breath and pushed all these thoughts away and focused back on my shift.
“Can I get you anything else?“ I asked the couple that seemed to be out on a date, after serving them some coffee. 
  “No, I think we're good.“ The boy answered, smiling at me. I nodded and walked over to the next table to take a new order when I saw that Noah Centineo was the one sitting there. 
“Uh... Noah.“ 
He was staring at his phone and looked up once he saw me standing in front of him. He seemed to recognize me immediately and forced a small smile at me, “Hi.“
“Uhm... Hi.“ I replied, looking at him. 
“You know, I... uh... think I came to the wrong place.“ He said before getting up from his seat and walking right out the door. 
I put the coffeepot down on the table and looked at my co-worker Melody. “Hey, Mel, can you watch my tables for a second?“ She nodded and I followed Noah outside, where he was talking to someone on the phone. 
“Yeah, the menu here isn't so great. We could get some take out.“ I heard him say into the phone. “Okay, bye.“ He ended the call and put his phone back inside his pocket.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest and cleared my throat. Noah turned around and glanced back at me.
“You didn't even look at the menu.“ I said, raising my brows at him. 
 “I just didn't think my publicist would like it here, so.“ He defended himself while fidgeting around with his hands. 
“What? You thought I was gonna pour a cup of coffee in your lap again? I'm not an idiot you know? I wait tables for a living.“ I knew how pathetic my statement sounded after what happened yesterday on set, but I needed to put him in his place. Just because he was a Hollywood star, didn't mean he had the right to be a jerk to everyone around him. 
“Really?“ He asked, raising his brows at me. 
“What exactly are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be brunching at the Ivy with some Teen Choice Award winners or something?“ I asked, a hint of annoyance in my voice.
“Uh...I don't even know your name so why are you even mad at me? Besides, you're the one who set our shoot back two hours.“ Noah said, giving me a reproachful glance.
“Seriously? Why does no one blame the prop master for not doing his job?“ I asked, throwing my arms in the air defensively. 
 “Checking your props is practically acting class 101.“ He commented, running a hand through his curly hair.
“Oh, yeah? Since when?“ 
“Since always. I don't know that doesn't really change.“ 
I shook my head, laughing. “Great. I'm getting acting advice from a Disney Channel star.“ 
  “You watched Austin & Ally?“ He asked, sounding a little surprised. 
  I shrugged my shoulders, “Everyone our age did.“   
Noah laughed and pointed a finger at me, “You had a crush on me, didn't you? Come on, admit it, you thought I was cool.“ 
   Now he was really taking it too far. Who did this guy think he was? I don’t think I've ever met someone in my life, who was so full of crap and I seriously had no idea what everyone else loved so much about him. Noah Centineo was an asshole who clearly only cared about himself and his career. 
“I have to get back to work.“ I said, turning away from him. 
  “Okay, but just remember... coffee is better in a cup than on your shirt.“ 
  I decided to ignore his comment and just glared back at him. 
  “I'm joking, girl. It was just a joke.“ Before he had the chance to say anything else, I walked back inside the café, slamming the door behind me.
I grabbed the coffeepot from the table and walked behind the counter.
“Uh excuse me. Was that Noah Centineo you just talked to?“ Melody asked, looking at me. I nodded my head, “Yeah... the one and only.“ 
  “Okay, wow. He sure is hella dreamy.“ She gushed, making me roll my eyes. “Yeah and he knows it. Gosh, that guy is so full of himself it's almost pathetic.“ 
She stared at me for a minute before saying, “Uh huh. You clearly are just saying that to cover up the fact that you two are actually a thing.“ 
I immediately shook my head, feeling a little offended by her assumption. “Ew, no, what the hell. That's definitely not the case. Why would you even say that?“ I asked, looking back at her. 
“Because of this pic, I saw online.“ She said, grabbing her phone.
“What pic?“ 
“The one of you and Noah leaving some VIP lounge in Hollywood.“ 
“I can assure you that it definitely wasn't me.“ 
“Okay.“ She said, clearly not believing me.
“It wasn't, I swear. Why would you even think it was me?“ 
She pulled out a picture and showed it to me.
“I don't know. I mean you can't see her face but she has the same hair as you.“ 
I glanced at it for a second and shook my head, “It's not me.“ I said before walking into the kitchen to make some new coffee. Once I finished my shift and got back home I immediately called my best friend Emily, who's bridal shower I was going to tomorrow. We both talked for a while and I poured my heart out to her, telling her about the last couple of days. She always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better and of course she did this time too. 
  Although I did get some bad news from her as well. Because I was so busy with going to auditions and focusing on my acting career she decided to change my title from 'maid of honor' to 'co-maid of honor'. 
The actual maid of honor now was our friend Ashley, who organized the bridal shower and also most of the wedding next weekend. Even though I'd been fired as the maid of honor, I still looked forward to going back home to Conway. It would be good for me to leave Los Angeles for a while and to focus on my friends and family back at home. I was excited to see them and hoped that it would distract me from all of the madness in my life. 
****
After a long flight and a two-hour drive, I finally arrived at my best friend's house where she held her bridal shower. 
I parked my car and knocked at the door. When no one answered, I checked if the door was unlocked and when it was I entered the house. 
  I walked through the familiar place until I reached the backyard where a lot of people were already waiting. I saw all of my friends gathered at a table and smiled. 
“You guys seriously started without me?“ I asked, walking towards the table they were sitting at. My friends Ashley and Jane squeaked before running over to greet me. Emily followed them with a big smile on her face. 
Ashley and Jane both looked me up and down once we pulled apart from the hugs.
“Oh my gosh, that color looks so good on you! And the L.A. weather must be good to you too  because you're tanned as hell!“ Jane said and Ashley nodded. 
“You look so hot, girl. Come on, let's take a selfie for Instagram.“ Ashley pulled out her phone and held it in front of our faces. I smiled at the camera and we took a couple selfies before both of them started asking me question after question.
“Oh my gosh, I heard you're filming a movie with Noah Centineo! The Noah Centineo. Is that really true?“ 
“Yes, is he as hot as he is in person? Is he tall and oh my gosh did you touch his hair?“ 
“Yeah, did you? What does he smell like? Are his eyes really that sparkly?“ 
  I let out a breath, feeling a little overwhelmed about this whole situation. I loved my friends a lot, I really did, but they were really hard to be around sometimes.  
“So... the maid of honor has finally arrived.“ Emily said, saving me from this crazy situation.
Ashley cleared her throat, looking at Emily. “I mean co-maid of honor.“ She corrected herself, smiling at us. 
“I'm just teasing, (Y/N). When you're here, I want you to do everything you can. And when you're not, I just wanna help out.“ Ashley said, smiling at me. 
  I smiled back at her. “Thanks, Ash. I think it's really sweet of you to help out while I'm stuck in L.A.“ She nodded before she and Jane disappeared to grab some champagne.   
Emily walked over to me and hugged me. “It's good to finally see you, (Y/N).“ She said once we pulled apart from each other. 
I nodded and linked my arm with hers, “It's so good to be home. I missed you guys so much.“ 
  “and we missed you.“ She smiled at me before we walked back to the table. 
“By the way, I didn't tell anybody that you got fired.“
“Thank you. I really don't feel like talking about it.“ 
“I know and you're welcome.“
We sat down at the table and waited for the others to arrive. Once everyone was there, we raised our glasses in a toast to officially celebrate Emily's bridal shower. 
  “So, how's Los Angeles, dear?“ Allison, Emily's mother, asked me
. “It's good. I'm going to lot's of auditions and also work at this cute coffee shop. I really like it there.“ I answered, looking at her. 
  She smiled at me before Jane asked me another question. “So... is Noah Centineo really that tall? Or just kinda tall?“ 
  I sighed, “No more questions about Noah, okay? Today is all about Emily.“ I looked over to my best friend and smiled. 
  She nodded her head and smiled back at me. “Yeah, (Y/N)'s right. Today's all about me. You guys know that I love being the center of attention.“ 
We all laughed at her comment before we moved on to open her gifts. 
  While Emily was opening her presents I went back inside the house to grab some more champagne for us, when I ran into Jake, Emily's fiancé. He was six years older than all of us which we often liked to tease him about. 
  “Hey, grandpa.“ I said, waving at him. Luckily he was a cool guy and immediately played along. 
  “(Y/N?) Is that you?“ He asked, doing a terrible grandpa voice.
I laughed and pulled him into a hug. “It's good to see you, Jake. Congrats.“ I smiled at him.  
“Thank you. And thank you for flying all the way in from Los Angeles. I know it means the world to Emily.“ 
 I nodded and grabbed the bottle of champagne before going back outside. Jake followed me and I stopped in my tracks to look at him. 
“Uh, since when does the groom join the bridal shower?“ I asked, raising my brows at him. 
   “Since the groom's poker tournament ended two hours ago.“ Jake said before making his way outside. I shook my head laughing before following him. 
   On my way out I ran into Dylan, my childhood crush and best friend for years. I barely recognized him. He lost so much weight since the last time we saw each other and looked even better than I remembered him.
“Dylan, oh my gosh, I didn't even recognize you.“ He smiled and pulled me into a hug. 
“Hey, (Y/N). I missed you.“ Dylan said once we pulled apart from each other.   
I looked him up and down, a proud smile on my face. “You look great. How much weight did you lose? I mean you look... wow.“ 
I blushed a little and Dylan laughed. “It's okay, (Y/N). You can ask.“ 
“How much weight did you lose?“ I asked again. 
“58 pounds.“ 
My eyes widened. “Wow, that's incredible. When did this all happen? I mean the last time I saw you was barely a year ago.“  
Dylan nodded, “Yeah, I know. It happened after grad school. I took spring break off, got a personal trainer and been focusing on my body ever since.“ He explained while we walked back inside to sit down at a table. 
  “and what are you doing now?“ I asked, looking at him. 
“I'm a project manager at a tech firm near the beach.“ He replied.
“Wow, that's amazing. Congrats. I didn't know you moved back here.“ 
  “I didn't. I'm close though. I visit on and off. I got back here for Jake's poker tournament which didn't go too well for him.“ Dylan laughed and I joined him. 
  “Yeah, he's awful at poker. My grandma plays better than him.“ I joked and Dylan laughed again. 
  “I destroyed him. But anyway, what about you? How's L.A. treating you?“ He asked, looking at me. 
  “It's good. You know... dreams don't disappear.“ 
  Dylan nodded, “Yeah, they don't. You know what does though? People.“ 
  “Ouch, was that directed to me?“ I asked but he shook his head. “No, of course not. I just... missed you a lot.“ 
  “I missed you too, Dylan. But you were the one that ran off to Atlanta for college, remember?“ 
  He sighed, “Yeah, but that's still a closer drive back home than from Los Angeles.“ 
  Before we could continue with our conversation, Ashley walked in and joined us at the table. She kissed Dylan on the cheek and sat next to him. 
  “Now I know what was taking so long for you to get that champagne.“ 
Ashley said, looking at me. “Did you two have some time to catch up?“ She asked and Dylan nodded. 
  “So... how long have you two been together?“ I asked looking at them. 
“Two months.“ Both of them said and I nodded. 
“Well... I'm happy for you guys.“ 
Ashley smiled, “Thanks. So babe, are you ready to go home?“ 
Dylan looked at her confused, “I thought we'd stay a little longer. I haven't seen (Y/N) in a while. It'd be nice to you know... talk a little more.“ 
  “Okay, sure. Let's go back outside then.“ She said, getting up from her seat. 
   I could tell how jealous she was and that she didn't like how close I and Dylan still were. I didn't really blame her though. Dylan and I had a lot of history together. At some point in our lives, we both had feelings for each other. Things got really complicated between us though, which ultimately lead to the end of our friendship. Thankfully a lot of time has passed since then and we're now back at being friends. 
“Yeah, let's go.“ Dylan said before getting up from his seat. I followed him and the three of us went back outside.
It had gotten dark outside when we joined the others and most people had already left the bridal shower. Ashley, Jane, Jackson, Dylan, Emily and I were the only ones left and we all gathered around at a table. 
“(Y/N), you have to tell us. Have you been dating any celebrities?“ Jane asked, clearly a little tipsy from all the champagne and wine she'd been drinking all day.
  “Not really. There were a couple of guys I really liked but they all ended up being total psychos so nope, no dating. Especially no one famous.“
“What about that director guy Zeke?“ Ashley asked but Jane shook her head,“No, we hate that guy. He dumped her on her birthday.“ 
“He didn't really know that it was my birthday, but whatever. That was a lifetime ago. Besides, I just wanna focus on my career right now. So it's fine.“   “Well, that's a good thing.“ Dylan commented.
“Yeah, but that's all by choice, right? Of course, all the guys adore her out there.“ Emily said, smiling at me. “and I totally respect that you wanna focus on your career. That takes a lot of dedication.“ 
  “It sounds like it's paying off though. I mean with this big movie role and all.“ Ashley added, looking at me. 
  “Wait, you booked a movie? That's awesome! Congrats, (Y/N).“ Dylan said, sounding all proud. 
  “When does it come out?“ Dylan asked curiously. 
  “I don't know. My scene might get cut anyways.“
“Wait, why would your scene get cut? I mean don't they need you in the film? I thought you were like a lead character.“ 
“I wouldn't say that, exactly.“ I responded, looking back at Ashley who was the one asking me all these questions. 
  “You guys it's complicated. You know she has to sign like a non-disclosure deal and all that stuff. She isn't really allowed to talk about it.“ Emily chimed in, saving me once again. 
  “Yeah, she's right.“ I said, mouthing a 'thank you' at her. 
  Jane's phone beeped and she immediately started squeaking. “Oh my gosh... no way. That's you, (Y/N)!“ She said, showing me a picture on her phone. 
It was the same picture Melody showed me the other day of Noah Centineo and some girl leaving a VIP lounge in Hollywood. 
She showed the picture around the table. “She's the mystery girl! The one that's been kissing Noah Centineo.“ Jane said and Ashley looked at me. 
  “You said you worked with Noah?“
“Yeah, I did.“
“So you guys are more than co-workers then?“
“Yeah... are you?“ 
  Everyone had so many questions about me and Noah which made me a little uncomfortable. I felt like I was being interrogated by the police or something. 
“I wouldn't really say that.“ I replied, looking back at them.
“Then... do you even know him?“ Ashley questioned, raising her brows at me.
“Yeah, I do. He just showed up at my work yesterday.“ 
“Then it is true! You're dating Noah Centineo!“ Jane laughed, nudging my shoulder. 
  I didn't really know what to do. Everyone was staring at me and I felt really pressured which is why I said, “Yeah. It's true. It's all true.“ 
  “I just want to know if he's coming to the wedding because I want him to sign my bridesmaid's dress.“ 
  “Oh, really?“ Emily asked, giving her a weird look. 
  “I don't know what the big deal is. It's not like I'm gonna wear it again.“ 
  I shook my head, “No, he's not gonna come to the wedding.“
“Oh, he isn't? Why not?“ Ashley asked curiously. 
“Because no one knows yet. It's a publicity thing, you know. So you guys can't say anything.“ 
“About what?“ A familiar voice asked, causing me to turn around. My parents were standing behind me and I immediately got up from my seat to greet them.
   “Mrs. (Y/L/N), you didn't tell us your little girl was dating Noah Centineo.“ Ashley said, looking at my mom.
“Well... I... I didn't know.“ My mother said, looking at me surprised.
“Uh, hi mom. Dad.“ 
  “Who's Noah Centineo?“ My dad asked, confused.
“Oh don't worry, honey. He's a cutie.“ Mom said, patting his shoulder.
“What are you guys doing here?“ I asked, looking back at them. 
  “We were just driving by and we didn't really know if you had a ride home or not.“ My mom answered. 
  “You're staying with us, right?“ 
“Yeah, but my stuff is in the car. I can meet you guys at home, though?“
“No, we can hang. Can't we?“ “No, you know what? I'm exhausted. Let's go.“ 
“Sure, honey,“ Dad replied before he and mom turned around to go back to their car. 
  I waved at my friends before walking towards the house. Once I got inside I saw that Emily was already waiting for me. 
  “So, is it true? About Noah?“ She asked, looking at me with questioning eyes.
“Of course it is, why would I lie?“
“Maybe because you don't want any of them to know you got fired from your job? Look, (Y/N), it's okay if you're struggling. I promise you all of them will understand.“ 
   “It's just like I said. I can't say anything.“ I felt awful about lying to my best friend, but I was already too caught up in all the lies.
Besides, she would never find out the truth anyway. After I leave Conway and get back to L.A. this whole story won't be relevant anymore. No one's going to talk about it and I won't have to worry about explaining myself to my family or my friends. 
“Okay, fine. I just don't understand why you wouldn't have told me.“
“Yeah and you could have told me about Dylan and Ashley too, you know.“ I said, looking at her reproachfully. 
  Emily sighed, “I just didn't know how to tell you. They started dating when he got back and I didn't even think it would last in the first place.“
“It's fine. It's just kind of weird, you know? Ashley used to make so much fun of him back in school.“ 
“Yeah, but he's a lot different than he was in school.“
“I guess. I mean he looks great.“ 
“Yeah. But so does Mr. Noah Centineo.“ Emily said, wiggling her brows at me. 
“I'm so sorry about how all of that came up. Today really should have been about you and not me.“ 
“It's okay. I'm just glad that you came.“ 
“Yeah, me too.“
“Hey, but no more secrets, okay?“ Emily looked at me.
I nodded, “okay. No more secrets.“ 
  I felt horrible. I know I had to tell her the truth, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I kind of liked that everyone thought I was Noah Centineo's mysterious girlfriend, even though it wasn't true. It just felt really good to have this kind of attention from everyone which makes me feel even worse about lying to all of them. 
“Anyway, I have to go now. Bye. See you soon.“ I said, waving at Emily before grabbing my bag and leaving her house.
****
I woke up the next morning with some surprising news. Apparently, the whole internet world was talking about me and Noah Centineo, which I knew was Ashley and Jane's fault. 
Everyone assumed that I was Noah's secret girlfriend and even pictures with my face were going around the internet. Some newspapers and magazines even talked about it. So of course when I landed back in Los Angeles people were going crazy. Paparazzi were following me everywhere and even a few girls approached me and asked for a picture.
It was insane. Of course, I wanted to be famous and always dreamed about being in magazines and newspapers, but not like this. I didn't want to be famous because of a  celebrity I supposedly dated. Especially if that celebrity was Noah Centineo. It was my own fault that all of this was happening though. I never should have lied about being with him in the first place. I mean I didn't really lie, it was more like a misunderstanding that lead to a lie, but still. It was what got me into this mess. A mess I didn't really know how to get out of. A few days had passed since I got back and people were still talking about me and Noah. I was working my morning shift at the café. Almost everything seemed normal, except for the fact that a lot of paparazzi were gathered outside, taking pictures of me. 
“All the paparazzi sure love you a lot.“ Melody said, looking out the window. 
“Yeah, try to go to an audition at 8 am with three cars chasing after you.“
“Ohh, poor you.“ She said, rolling her eyes. “You said you two weren't dating though?“
 “No, we're not. This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding. Noah Centineo wants nothing to do with me.“ 
“Then why is he here?“ Melody asked, pointing towards the door. I followed her gaze and saw Noah, who had just entered the café.
“Oh no.“ I said, walking over to him. 
  His arms were crossed in front of his chest while he was staring back at me.
  “Noah, I'm so sorry about everything. I swear I didn't tell anyone we had a thing it was just a huge misunderstanding.“ I explained, looking at him.
“But you did tell people it was you in the picture?
“No...“
He raised his brows at me. 
“Well yes, I mean not really. Look, they all said it was me and I just didn't tell them no. I went home for a bridal shower last weekend.“
“Ugh, bridal shower. You're the bridesmaid?“
I nodded. 
  “Yeah... those can be pretty rough,“ Noah said, hiding his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah, tell me about it.“ I replied, thinking back at how crazy the bridal shower had been before adding, “look, I just didn't want to tell them I got fired, okay?“
“So you told people we were together instead?“ He asked, giving me a weird look.
I sighed, “You don't know these girls. They create fantasies in their heads.“
“Well, it clearly looks like they're not the only ones.“ He glanced at me.
“Hey, if you want me to go out there and tell everyone it was a lie, I'll do it.“ I said, pointing outside to the paparazzi. 
   Noah put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me over to one of the tables. 
“Actually... there's something I need your help with.“ 
“My help with what?“ I asked once we sat down at the table.
“I was kind of hoping we could break up. In public.“
I looked at him confused, “Break up? Why?“ 
  “No one can know who was really with me in the photo that night so I kinda need people to keep thinking it was you.“
“Who is it?“ I asked curiously. 
  “It's complicated. If people find out I was dating this woman it could ruin both of our careers.“ He explained. 
  “Well, you didn't really seem to care about helping me save mine.“ 
“You didn't ask.“ 
  I rolled my eyes at that. 
“But I am. I'm asking for your help here. Besides, this looks like it might be pretty good press for you.“ Noah looked over his shoulder and pointed over to the window where all of the paparazzi were taking pictures of us. 
“It's not the kind of press I'm looking for. If I actually get famous I want it to be because I played the perfect part and not because I was the chick dumped by Noah Centineo in public.“ 
“Well... what do you want then? Money?“ 
“No. I'm not gonna lie for money.“
“It's not lying, it's acting. Besides, you didn't have a problem lying to your friends back home.“ 
  I sighed. He had a good point.
“Alright, just tell me. What do you want?“ 
 “We have to break up in a way where neither of us gets humiliated.“
Noah nodded, “Yeah, I completely agree. But we need to do it fast. Like this weekend fast.“ 
   “I'm not around this weekend.“
“This can't wait. In my experience, these things get out of hand pretty quick.“
“You know, this is perfect actually. You wanna do it this weekend? Then you come with me to a wedding.“ 
  Noah shook his head, “No. Definitely not. No way. No.“ 
  “This is the least you can do, Centineo,“ I said, looking at him. 
 Noah sighed, “Okay, fine.“ 
I grabbed a napkin and wrote down the details for the flight he had to book.
“So here's the flight you have to book. And you also have to promise not to embarrass me, okay?“ I said, before handing him the napkin.
“Pretty sure you'll be able to do that on your own, (Y/N).“ Noah said as we both got up from our seats. 
   I reached out my hand and Noah took it, giving it a gentle shake. When he reached over to shake my hand, the napkin I gave him earlier, fell down to the floor. I reached down to get it but Noah held me back. “I got it.“ He knelt and grabbed it.
   As he was kneeling, people immediately started clapping while all of their eyes were focused on us. Oh no, this can't be happening, I thought to myself as I looked at everyone's reaction. 
Noah immediately got back up and looked at me. “Okay. No more dropping things.“   
“Woah... that got crazy fast.“ I said, feeling a little overwhelmed about this whole situation. 
  People were still clapping, some of them even cheering loudly. 
  “Okay, so this weekend?“ He asked and I nodded. He then wrapped his arm around me and smiled, “We're getting married!“ 
  I immediately jumped into character and smiled as well. “Yes. This is the happiest day of my life.“ 
“Nice.“ Noah whispered before kissing me on the cheek. We posed for the cameras and acted like the happy newly engaged couple for a while until Noah had to leave.
I didn't really know what was going to happen this weekend. The plan was that Noah Centineo, who was now my fake fiancé, and I had to somehow convince my friends and family that we were actually together, before publically breaking up with each other. I knew how crazy this whole plan was, but at least it was going to be a weekend nobody would ever forget.
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buffster · 5 years
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New Moon Rising (BTVS 4.19)
This is part of my ongoing Buffyverse Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the shows. You can find the BTVS list here and the ATS list here. Gifs are not mine.
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It’s interesting to re-watch New Moon Rising, because the first time I saw it I was dreading it. At the time I hadn’t taken to Tara at all and did not want Willow to choose her and hurt Oz (I was already spoiled that she did). Who knew Willow and Tara would go on to become such an iconic couple from Buffy, right up there with Buffy and Angel? In the following season I grew to love Tara and the Willow/Oz relationship became a distant memory. 
I don’t entirely blame myself for these feelings, though. Tara wasn’t really much of a character at this point. Her main personality trait seemed to be shy. We knew Oz was stoic but internally a big thinker, quirky, and liked music, which is much more than we got on Tara. She seemed to exist solely to be Willow’s girlfriend for the fourth and even much of the fifth season (anyone else thinking of that out-of-nowhere Tara thinks she’s a demon plot?). 
I have to really admire the respect Tara gives Willow during this whole scenario, though. She doesn’t get possessive, she gives Willow the time and space to make a clear choice, and just overall conducts herself with dignity. It’s behavior worth aspiring to. Especially since we don’t get even a moment of Tara feeling conflicted when Oz is in trouble. She does the right thing with the full expectation that she’s pushing Oz right in to Willow’s arms. Eventually they would decide Tara is a remarkably mature and level-headed person, but at this point I think they just used her as a plot device. Another note on the relationship: Tara knows the whole Oz story already, which contrasts with Buffy and Riley when it comes to Angel. 
Riley: Gotta say. I'm surprised. I didn't think Willow was that kind of girl.
Buffy: What kind of girl?
Riley: Into dangerous guys. She seems smarter than that.
Buffy: Oz is not dangerous. Something happened to him that wasn't his fault. God, I never knew you were such a bigot.
Riley: Whoah! How did we get to bigot? I'm just saying it's a little weird to date anyone that tries to eat you  once a month.
Buffy: Love isn't logical, Rye. People can't just be Joe Sensible about it. God knows I haven't been.
Oz’s return brings up an issue for Buffy and Riley: they have very different attitudes about supernatural creatures. I’d argue we could also have examined the fact that Buffy has told Riley nothing about Angel. It’s an early sign that she just hasn’t let him in. As I said, Tara knows all about Oz, and Riley and Buffy’s relationship has been developed over the season as much (if not more so) as Tara and Willow’s. I think Angel is to blame for this one. It looked like she was learning to fully rely on Angel as her partner, but when she had to kill him that cemented her role as slayer in her mind and therefore other. It’s hard to entirely blame her for distancing herself and treating her relationships as sort of a side item; after all, what if Riley gets possessed and she has to kill him? Or some other shenanigans? The circumstances won’t matter because slayer comes first. Buffy dealt with having to kill Angel, but I think she dealt with it by hardening her heart to ever being that vulnerable again. I’m not saying this isn’t an issue she could overcome, but it is an issue and we see her fall into these habits even more in the fifth season. 
Before I go full meta essay on Buffy’s romantic relationships (let’s save that for after both shows) let’s get back to Riley’s bigotry. He has to make a clear choice this episode between Buffy’s ideologies and the Initiative’s and he chooses Buffy’s. But I think it would be more accurate to say he chose Buffy over the Initiative. He’s able to return to them later and I doubt they’ve changed their attitudes that much. 
Buffy: Is that regulation or something? You have to do those every single morning?
Riley: No. I do them because it's a good way to start the day.
Buffy: Right. And then you have your perfectly balanced breakfast and call your mother.
It’s funny to hear Buffy react like this because it almost sounds like something Faith would say to Buffy. Hmm. I could have a theory that Riley was a really good match for pre-slayer Buffy and that was a big part of her attraction to him. Ultimately, the black-and-white worldview was broken for Buffy and she was forced to see the grey. Unlike Buffy, Riley actually gets the choice. We can’t say for sure, but I feel like after leaving Buffy he eventually goes back to his old ways. 
Willow and Oz finally get to talk. Willow says that Oz has done all these amazing things while she has just been in Sunnydale, but the truth is she is the one who has changed while he hasn’t. He got her a sari and kept her in his mind like a goal to get back to, but Willow had no idea if he was ever coming back and moved on with her life. Oz really needs to work on more communication in his future relationships.  
It was a little convenient that the Initiative showed up to save Tara from werewolf Oz. And then they just let Tara walk off like it’s no big deal? What happened to the undercover concept? Apparently that was just a plot device to play up the drama of Buffy and Riley learning each other’s identities. 
We get a look at the darker concepts of the Initiative when they torture Oz, but once again see that it’s the personal that drives Riley, not the principal. He’s all for killing the werewolf until he realizes he knows Oz and has a connection to Buffy. 
Graham: This can't end well, man.
Riley: You gonna start killing people?
Forrest: I'm thinking just one.
Riley: You and me trained together from day one, Forrest. But I always outranked you. Come after me, you're gonna find out why. 
Riley pulling out some BDE. Buffy and Riley end the episode hiding out together, and she finally decides to tell him about Angel. Convenient, given we’re going to see him next episode. 
Oz: But I couldn't look at you. It turns out the one thing that brings it on, is you. Which falls under the heading of ironic in my book.
I’d forgotten that it’s really Oz who decides to walk away, rather than Willow rejecting him. I think she always would have chosen Tara but couldn’t bear to hurt Oz. I don’t know; the vibe just seemed more regretful than torn throughout the episode. 
Willow goes to Tara and has sexy times right after, too, so that lends credence to the not-really-torn idea. 
Character Notes:
Willow Rosenberg: She considers herself a dog person, but she loves cats too.
Adam: Parts of him were a boy scout...yikes. He’s recruited Spike to his cause.
Buffy Summers: She makes a reference to William Burroughs. She plays dumb sometimes but is incredibly knowledgeable with her references. 
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zacklover24 · 5 years
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Phantom manor Chapter 2
Summary: A long time there was once a town called Thunder Mesa. Thunder Mesa was a humble town that was built in a canyon and the canyon lay in the shadow of a mountain, Thunder mountain. The town of Thunder Mesa was also a mining town. One day a man named  Dutch van der linde went to Thunder Mesa to get rich. He was not so humble miner who struck gold and became rich overnight and with the help of his wife Annabelle. And with that gold came power and soon Dutch owned all the land in Thunder Mesa. Dutch built himself and his young wife Annabelle a home on the hill, that overlooked Thunder Mesa. The van der linde shadow stretched over Thunder Mesa. And then Dutch and  Annabelle were gifted son, a son named Arthur. Haunted Manor Au, ghosts, mentions of death, kidnapping, murder, supernatural elements 
Tagging: @dolphinitley, @lokighost, @statichvm, @naromoreau, @starsandskies, @outranks, @nykamito-x, @thotful-writing
“So uncle Josiah the town of Thunder Mesa it’s in new New Austin right?” Angel asks her, Jack and Josiah were heading to Thunder Mesa. The trio had left early in the morning, Josiah had made them to take the early train out of Saint Denis. Angel let out a yawn as she settled in her overly comfy seat.
“Yes, it’s on the train route hence why we are taking the train. In fact it’s a little ways outside of Blackwater.” Josiah explains as he took a sip of his tea. 
“If the train ride is only three hours long, then why are we in the luxury car?” Jack asks him as he took a bite of the breakfast sandwich he had ordered. 
“Why not have a little fun dear boy?” Josiah asks him with a knowing smile, “Is everything alright Angel?” 
“Hmm?” Angel asks as she poking at her sunny side up eggs, “I guess.” 
“I take it this trip,  has you worried?” Josiah asks her, as Angel shook her head yes. “Well you see we aren't even going to the original Thunder Msea.” 
“What do you mean?” Angel asks still poking at her egg.
“Well you see, back I would say a hundred years ago, Thunder Mesa was built in a canyon. The canyon was at the bottom of a  mountain. The local called it thunder mountain.” Josiah explains. 
“What happened?” Jack asks his mouth full of food, and sprayed bites of eggs onto the table as he took. 
Josiah could only give him a disapproving look as handed the young man a napkin, “Well you see days before Arthur and Mary wedding a horrible earthquake hit the old town. Many poor souls died including Dutch and Annabelle. The townsfolk who had lived packed up moved.” 
“That sounds royally fucked up.” Angel hisses pushing her plate away. 
“I agree.” Jack mutters after he chewed and swallowed his food. 
“I  can understand why you see that way. But, life has a funny way of going on.” Josiah tells them with a sad smile. Thunder Mesa was not a happy town, its past, present and future relied heavily on Angel actions. For good or bad, things were going to be interesting.
The rest of the train ride went quick and quiet, and by early afternoon they made it to Thunder Mesa. The train station heavily reminded Angel of the one in Rhodes.
“Angel don’t worry about your duffel, I got it.” Jack tells her grinning as he grabbed both duffel bags. 
“You sure?” Angel asks grabbing her tan canvas satchel bag from the seat. 
“Positive.” As he gave her the thumbs up. 
“Now children, I want you both to head to the van der linde manor while I go chat with mayor Cornwall.” Josiah tells them, as he pulled out a key ring and a small poster cord from his suit pocket. 
Jack and Angel gave Josiah a confused look, “Wait, wait, wait, shouldn’t Angel go and talk with the manor?” Jack asks him. 
“Yea, shouldn’t I?” Angel asks crossing her arms over her chest. 
“While I do agree with you both, but I’ve been corresponding with the mayor and he agreed to meet with me. It’s nothing bad just getting the paperwork ready and such. I know how much Angel hates this sort of stuff.” Josiah explains as both Jack and Angel gave a look that read ‘right sure you did’. 
“You sure you were doing this for Angel.” Jacks mutters as the train came to a stop, “You coming Ang?” 
“How will we find this place?” Angel asks Josiah, as the older man could only smile. 
“The manor isn’t hard to find.” He tells her with a pat on the head, “Now come along.” Angel gave him a huff.
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Thunder Mesa reminded Angel and Jack of Rhodes, but bigger and with more toursits milling about and the fucking manor that loomed over the town from atop the hill that was outside of town. 
“Well fuck me.” Angel curses seeing that the manor that was outside of town, and no clear way of getting there. 
“You got to be fucking kidding me.” Jack groans, “I’m not carrying the bags that far.” 
“Fear not the mayor has a car ready, and my personal car is at the manor.” Josiah cheerfully tells them, “Now run along.” As he showed them out of the train station and to a car waiting for them. 
“Gotta admit he is good.” Jack says putting the bags away. Angel let out a grunt as she got into the car. The car ride was quiet. 
They soon left the town behind them and climbed up and up till they were at the manor and it was then that Angel looked down at the post card in her hand. The manor was sitting atop a hill, it was not so modest three story house, the house in the postcard was painted white with a green door with what looked like a bronze knocker and there were green shutters. All the window frames had extravagant wooden carvings on them and above the window frames were even more extravagant craving. The frames of all the windows had gold trim, even the bottom part of the roof had gold trim. Speaking of the roof there seems to be some sort of iron fencing going around and the top most part of the third story was an odd weather vein. The second and third floors each had balcony. In the post card were two sets of stairs one made of marble and the second made of wood. Angel handed Jack the postcard, 
He let out a low whistle, “Wow. I doubt that it looks like that.” 
“I think your right.” Angel whispers as she started to play with her hair. 
“Hey.” Jack says taking her free hand in his, “You okay?” As he ran his thumb over her knuckles. 
Angel bite her lip, trying not to draw blood, “I-I-I don’t know. Something about this feel so fucking off.” 
“It's going to be okay Ang. I mean how can it not be?” He asks giving her a warm smile. 
“I-I-I yea, your probably right.” She tells him giving him a weak smile. Jack gave her hand a squeeze as they pulled up to the house. And Angel and Jack were right the house didn’t look good at all like the postcard. 
The paint on the house had been chipped and weather away leaving the plain wood. The wood looked it had been glossed to give it a newish looking  appearance. 
The three trees that been in full bloom in the postcard were dead looking and looked ready to be pulled up and replaced. The flowers that also been in bloom next to the marble stairs that lead up to the main house were in bloom but looked like they needed help. The sun dial that was to the right of the stairs had a ring of healthy looking grass under it, to the left was a cherub statue with some rose bushes next to it. Which made Angel eye twitch. At the top of the marble stairs were white marble pots with some sort of flowers in them, and behind them was a statue of a woman missing her arms. 
Angel took in a deep breath, as they got out of the car. “It's going to be okay.” She whispers. 
“It will be.” Jack confirms giving her hand a squeeze. Angel paid the driver as the guy drove off. As Angel just started at the house, and then a cold shiver ran up her spine. 
End of line 
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thecookiegawd · 5 years
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first thought: i think i hate men.
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amongst all of the serious movements that erupted in early 2018 there was one that always bothered me whenever it showed up on my timeline: the hashtag “men are trash”. i was always taken aback by it, even if i knew that it was either a troll or not directed at me (which, already is toxic, because who am i to think that i’m the only person in this world who isn’t “trash” in some way?). up until recently i always thought this was a new way for the feminists to bash men instead of dealing w/ more urgent issues. one time on twitter i saw a homosexual gentleman standing in front of a huge pile of garbage w/ the caption, “a photo of me and a bunch of men.” again, obviously a silly troll, but i took the bait & the shit continued to fuck w/ me. why do i give a fuck so much? even if i am trash...so? you are too, in a way. we’ve all done things that are trash in our lifetime, otherwise there would be nothing to grow or mature from. i look back at old photos of me from high school & it instantly brings back memories of me desperately trying to sag my pants in a way that the administrators or my grandmother wouldn’t notice, spraying a mountain of axe on in the morning even if i didn’t shower because i wanted to smell more “manly”, wearing my hat to the back no matter what because that was how all the rappers did it, wearing two watches for literally no reason at all...i vomit just thinking about how hard i was trying to be something i wasn’t. that’s trash, isn’t it? 
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remember the day you woke up & decided to be yourself? you probably don’t, because if the decision was conscious then you’re probably an entirely different kind of trash than the type i’m addressing here- seek therapy. for the entirety of my twenties i’ve always tried to go against the normalcy of things; my taste in music, my fashion sense (or lack thereof), my speech, etc. i don’t want to be like you. i’m sure that people are going to always compare me to others because that’s the only way humans interact w/ new humans. if someone says, “yo, have you met my friend? he reminds me of so-and-so”, depending on how you view so-and-so, you might be inclined to meet them & strike up a conversation. i’ve always given way too much of a fuck about how i’m looked at in the public eye, which is why, till this day, i don’t do anything drastic to my body like getting a face tattoo or wearing knock-off sneaker brands (yes, to me that’s drastic), or getting a fucking android. for Christ’s sake, if the shit can call, text & work instagram i shouldn’t really care, right? i don’t even like taking pictures of myself on my phone.
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let me get to my point. i was in a group chat w/ some gentlemen, most of which i had went to high school w/ & had shared at least 7 words or more w/ in my lifetime. the situation that happened is petty so i won’t speak on it, mostly because nobody but the people in that group chat are gonna care anyway. whatever happened happened, & i immediately got the fuck out of there. it was the first time i had ever seriously referred to anything as “toxic”. now of course, if the gentlemen were to ever read this, they would automatically assume it was because i was mad or my feelings were hurt, which is not only untrue but ironically toxic. i thought not about the situation itself, but why i felt the way i felt about the situation clear into 9am the following morning during my morning routine, which nowadays is sitting on the toilet and playing tetris. the thought zoomed into my head & i looked up and stared at the wall in silence as my blocks stacked on top of each other messily: “yo...i think i hate men.” the shit sounded wild nuts in my head so i immediately texted a close (male) friend of mine to make sure i just wasn’t overthinking things. after a long talk w/ him & some other people who are near & dear to me, i was given some clarity & i DEFINITELY had overthought it.
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i was introduced to the idea that i might actually just hate non-creative people, but non-creative MEN specifically. it makes more sense in the grand scheme of things, considering how close-knit my friend group is, & how i’m always hesitant to even SPEAK to new people. honestly, if i could only ever converse w/ people who are in the business of creating, my life would be a lot more enjoyable. i HATE going to my 9-5 & staring these uncultured ass white people in the face whom i know have never worked hard for a thing in their lives, but are dropping more money on the services i provide them in two weeks than i make in an entire month. i never wanna know how your day is going, go the fuck away. i then think about how even the WOMEN i associate w/ are creative. a lot of you lame ass niggas (you know who you are) will kick it w/ any girl as long as she fucking. i’m 25 years old, my nigga. sex is a thing that’s happened to me time & time again- i require more now. if she ain’t talkin about shit i’m not even entertaining it. the craziest thing is that i’m called weird for thinking like that, as if wanting to actually enjoy the people i hang around is a crime. shit has me confused.
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as corny as the shit sounds, my life requires color. the world is much more than black and white & that nondescript grey area in the middle. i’ve walked away from the idea of me hating men, but i do genuinely hate ANYONE regardless of gender who doesn’t add value. i was also told that i have an elitist attitude, which further pushes my distaste for non-creatives, seeing as it takes a lot to impress me. can’t just throw paint at a wall & call it art, my nigga. you gotta show me something else. idk if any of this shit made sense, it was just a thought.
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xiggy-stardust · 5 years
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I can’t please anyone.
None of my friends follow this tumblr so I’m gonna dump my tea in this harbor
“hahaha nobody follows ur dumblr, xig-” SHUT the FUCK UP, ME. I KNOW thats YOU.
okok so over winter break I went shopping for myself because I didn’t get anything for christmas. I was in hot topic (Fuck you, they have some cool shit) and they had a thing where it was “Buy one hoodie and get another for just 10 bucks” so NATURALLY I made the cashier hold my $70 Twenty One Pilots hoodie while I looked for something cheaper to pay in full so I wouldn’t have to pay 70 bucks for a hoodie. I found this really cool Kingdom Hearts jacket for just 40 bucks.
One of my friends, let’s call them Wendy, LOVES KH to DEATH. I was becoming really good friends with her since I’ve only met her this school year (so I’ve known her since about august) and we became best friends really fast. We have more inside jokes than I can count, which I think is what really makes you best friends. Wendy and I have lunch together like every day after school and we sit and talk for hours about everything or sometimes nothing at all. The point is, we’re close.
I also have another friend, let’s call them Nina. Nina and I have been friends for longer than Wendy and I have been friends, since about sophomore year (and it’s senior year now). And Nina and Wendy have been friends since elementary school. So really, I’m the one late to the party. It was very clear very early on this year that Nina was getting jealous about how close Wendy and I have been getting despite us not knowing each other for very long. This reeked of petty high school drama, and me, being the only person in school not caught up in shit, refused to be dragged into something I had no intention of being a part of.
The thing about Nina though, is that she has hella insecurity issues and I’ve already sent her novels over text trying to convince her that she’s not a piece of shit. She thinks everybody hates her and she (very clearly) baits me and Wendy into pitying her. Every time I talk to her, it’s another thing she thinks everybody’s gonna hate her for. Every time. She never takes responsibility and uses those big puppy eyes to make me say that nothing is ever her fault just so she won’t go home and blow her brains out like I have nightmares of her doing. I’ve talked to her so much about the exact same topic matter that some days when she says “whatever I’m probably just annoying you” I kinda wanna say “yeah you are.” But I know for a fact she’ll go home and probably c*t her wr*sts or something. She never makes any efforts to improve herself. She wallows in her sadness and wants everyone to feel bad for her or wallow with her.
This is where Wendy is a breath of fresh air.
me, Nina, and Wendy are all relentlessly sad for mostly the same reasons, but they both have shitty parents whereas mine are. idek. Divorced but living together like they aren’t, it’s weird. I digress. We all deal with our sadness in different ways. I deal with mine by myself in my own time and only let it out in the form of ironic memes and self deprecating humor. You gotta really dig deep to get to me and I have to trust you a lot to let u know what’s really going on. But for me, you don’t get to know unless you ask. That’s how I avoid bringing down the people around me to awkward situations. Wendy acknowledges whats wrong with her and actively talks to me or other trusted friends to fix what’s wrong. She doesn’t want people to feel bad for her, she wants to be better and she doesn’t stew in her sadness because that’s bad for literally everyone.
Nina is the total opposite. We were just in the middle of UIL rehearsals today and WHILE I was highlighting and trying to memorize my lines, Nina grills me about the jacket I got Wendy for christmas when I didn’t get her anything. Wendy actually warned me she would ask so I gave her one of my printed photos earlier this morning. She said she felt left out, so naturally I lied and said I had it from the start, which I totally didn’t, and the only reason I didn’t give it to her before is because she was literally in another state stuck in a blizzard and when she came back, she was cut from the play we were in and we had to travel to perform the day she got back. So today was the only day I’ve actually seen her. So even if I DID get her something, she wouldn’t get it till today anyway. And I STILL got her something. She still tried to guilt trip me about how she felt “left out” and how she’s “forgotten” like I haven’t talked to her about it more times than I care to think about.
The thing is, Wendy is really easy to shop for. She likes KH, Overwatch, and cute anime things, and every store I shop at has a surplus of one of those things. I had a slight suspicion Nina would get jealous so I tried to find something for her,, but she has zero interests I can shop for. She likes Vinyl records, but no store in the nearest 100 miles sells vinyl. It’s not like she likes comic books or video games or stuffed animals or.. anything. I cannot shop for her. The original Idea was to go thrift shopping just the three of us, and I buy Nina anything she wants because I know she likes thrifted items and we’ve been wanting to go thrifting together for months. BUT Nina was out of the state and her parents wouldn’t tell her how long she’d be there so I couldn’t schedule anything when she got back. The blizzard she was stuck in would have fucked it up anyway but still. The idea is, it would have been impossible to get Nina what she wants. But I don’t think she sees that. She only saw that Wendy got a gift from me and she didn’t. Now might be a good time to point out that Wendy didn’t get anything for christmas because her family considers it a big waste of money (which it is, but Wendy has never experienced a single christmas in her life). So yeah naturally I’d want to get her something. Besides the jacket I got her, the only other thing Wendy got for christmas is a KH Funko pop from another friend. Thats it. So excuse me if I wanted to make this christmas a little bit more happy for her.
Besides the point, but just a side note, I didn’t get anything for christmas either. It’s not like I’m hard to shop for either, I like the same things Wendy likes (minus KH maybe) and I like flannels and beanies A LOT. And they’re stupid easy to find, especially in winter. But all I got was a heartfelt letter from another friend who is too sweet to be in this story. I got a letter and none of my other friends got me anything. Not Nina or Wendy. But I never not once complained about it while I saw all my friends give and give and give to other people. That’s why I went shopping for myself, so I couldn’t possibly want anything that anybody was giving except for love (cliche, barf, ik, whatever).
So yea it just kinda rubbed me the wrong way when Nina complained about not getting anything. EXcuse you. I should really be the one complaining, cuz I’m 40 bucks in the hole on a jacket I’ll never wear and Wendy’s only worn like once since I gave it to her. I didn’t get anything either, I actually lost here. Wendy’s got another jacket she’ll never wear, so that only seems like a plus to me and she didn’t get anybody anything, but only cuz she doesn’t have money and her parents won’t let her get a real job. And you haven’t gained or lost anything. If we really wanna be equal, let’s all get gifts for each other. Unless we all come out down and up 2 gifts, somebody’s got a right to complain, and if we look at who’s lost the most, it looks like it’s me. But I’m not going to because I don’t need a gift to validify my friendships. I gave to a friend who it looked like needed it the most out of pure goodwill. I don’t expect anything in return, and I think there’s a thing on the internet about how if you talk about how charitable you are, your charity is null and void, at least the intent of it is. But I don’t think that counts if the only people I’m talking about can’t read this. Maybe it does, but I gain and lose nothing anyway.
If I gave Nina something or Nina gave me something, Wendy wouldn’t care. If Nina gave Wendy something or Wendy gave Nina something, I wouldn’t care. So I really don’t see the big deal that I gave Wendy something. The only difference I see is that Nina is out of the loop, and she’s the only one who cares if she is.
Idk I could go on forever but I’d just regurgitate the point that Nina, you suck for trying to make me feel bad for doing a nice thing. Please. Fix yourself, because nobody else can.
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buckybardot · 7 years
Text
Mine
Jealous!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Requested: “About your prompt list, maybe 2 & 32? idk it seems like they'd go well together.”
2. “Understand that you’re mine, and only mine.” 32. “You fucking branded me, I have hickey’s everywhere.”
A/N: Here is the request, hope it’s not shit. I just gotta say I love Bucky Barnes to no end btw. 
Warnings: unedited work, implied smut, cursing, etc.
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“All you need to do it walk over there and talk to her. Easiest thing in the world at this point,” Steve said to Bucky, encouraging him to walk over to you at the bar. Bucky shook his head, his irritation level rising. He loved Steve like a brother, but man did he feel like punching him in the face right now. 
“No,” He grunted simply. He didn’t have to give a reason not to.
Currently, Tony was throwing a small get together between the Team and a few SHEILD Agents. After lots of convincing from almost everyone, they managed to keep the number of people invited to a minimum, much to a reluctant Tony. Steve was also determined tonight to get Bucky to spend some one on one time with Y/N. 
Bucky may have denied it many, many times, but it was not hard to see that he had a special attachment to you. Steve had spotted the many lingering [and suggestive] stares between the both of you when the other wasn’t looking. The way that your cheeks would flush red and a sweet smile would take over your lips while talking to him, it wasn’t hard to see you reciprocated the feelings. 
“Ever since you both met, the tension between you has been insane. You do realize that besides Natasha and I, you're her best friend? Sure, she gets along well with everyone else, but she loves being close to you. Explain how in meeting with the team, you two are nearly always sitting together. No matter if your late or she’s late, you always are in a 10-foot radius of each other. Even your rooms are next door-”
Bucky slammed his glass down on the table closest, almost shattering it with his strength. “No, Steve. If you say I’m her best friend, then I’m going to stay that way. She’s already sauced, anyway. That’s her fourth Jack and Coke tonight.” He grumbled, glancing over at you. Steve turned to look at you as well, knowing that when you got drunk, you became extremely touchy and very brave. 
“Ha! You have been paying attention to her,” Steve exclaimed.
Just as he watched Bucky flare his nose and roll his eyes, a figurative lightbulb went off above his head. [He ignored the fact that he didn’t actually know if his plan would work, mostly cause Thor’s alcohol had him a little buzzed]. If he couldn’t convince Bucky to go over to Y/N on his own, he’d just have to piss him off enough to do something about it. 
“Okay, fine. If you're not going to make a pass, I will.” And with that, Steve turned around and headed straight for you. 
---
“But theoretically, if you duct taped the Hammer onto an Iron Man suit...” You slurred, talking between Natasha and Thor. 
“It’s still going to fly, right?” Nat laughed at your thought process, still in her right mind. Thor shook his head playfully. “I refuse to let you strap down Mjolnir to the Man of Iron. Not that I don’t trust him, but I don’t trust him.” 
That’s when you heard a voice clear their voice behind you, cause you to turn. Your eyes met the tidal pools people called Steve Roger’s eyes, and you immediately went in for a side-hug. “Finally, Mr. America makes his appearance tonight,” You announced. Behind you, you heard Natasha mumble something to Thor, and their footsteps pad away to leave you with Steve.
Unknowingly to you, Bucky was watching your every move from across the room. His shoulders had tensed up instantly when you gently hugged Steve, knowing perfectly well drunk-you happened to be very lovey-dovey. 
“You look ravishing tonight, Y/N,” Steve commented, looking you up and down, truthfully meaning what he said. That deep red bodycon dress Natasha had made you wear was rather pleasing to the eyes. 
“Why thank you, Stevie. You don’t look that bad yourself,” You winked. Steve was definitely attractive, more so than normal in a tight dark button down. Just as you were about to run your fingers over Steve’s massive bicep, you mind flittered to another super soldier hunk you knew. 
Your intoxicated mind quickly flashed memories of Bucky Barnes’s muscles rippling under his skin, and the sweet dipping down his shoulders during training. Oh, how did you love watching him train shirtless. Then usually after training, you’d go get food with him at the dinner a couple blocks away, share an expensive milkshake and talk shit about people together. Man, did you love making Bucky laugh...
“Y/N...Y/N? Where’d you go?” Steve asked, softly gripping your forearms with both hands. God, does that feel good. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second,” You said, shaking your head lightly and brushing your fingertips over his arms to bring you back. Steve smiled sweetly at you as you continued talking, remaining at a constant touch.
A couple feet away, Bucky was one action from Steve away from snapping the table in half with his fist. No one and he meant no one, was allowed to touch you like that except him. He knew what Steve was doing, and he couldn’t hide the slightest that it was working. Bucky’s stomach was all knotted up in anger and jealousy. He was the one that wanted to touch you lovingly, he was the one that desired most to kiss those gorgeous lips of yours. He was the one that wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you to his room, he was the one that wanted to rip that dress to shreds and devour you. 
Not Steve. 
Just as he made you laugh your beautiful laugh, the one where you threw your head back and happy tears welled in your eyes, Bucky blew his fuse. 
This was going to end right here, right now.
In the corner of your eye, you saw a figure come into view and catch your attention. Bucky, with the angriest look you have ever seen in your life, was heading right towards you and Steve. “Hey, Buck-” You started, before he stepped [in almost a protective stance] in front of you, back blocking your vision. Not that you minded staring at his toned back underneath his shirt.
“Steve, I’m warning you,” Bucky spoke, his voice an octave lower. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up, relishing in the sound of angry Bucky. “What ever do you mean, Bucky? I was just standing here having a nice conversation with Y/N,”
“Last chance, Rogers,” He growled again. Everything in your brain knew that whatever was happening was about to get serious, and this time it wasn’t just a male testosterone fight. 
“Wait a second, guys. What the hell is going on?” You said, stepping out and between them. Putting a hand on Bucky’s broad chest to make sure he wasn’t about to beat Steve into a pulp, you craned your neck to look at Steve. Bucky turned his gaze towards the side of your face, and he lost all self-control when he saw the hair brushed away from your neck, your skin begging him to place his lips on your sweet spot. 
In a swift motion, Bucky bent down and lifted you over his shoulder like it was nothing. “Whoa, Bucky what are you doing?” You giggled. He only grunted in response and started carrying you away and into the elevator of the penthouse. Steve smiled as he watched you wave at him, knowing he had finally and successfully gotten Buck to a point of no return.
---
As Bucky got to the elevator and pressed a button he set you down, letting you adjust your dress. “Man, I’ll tell you what I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while-”
Before you could finish your sentence and even blink, Bucky’s lips slammed into yours. It suddenly felt like time turned to slow-motion as he threaded his hands into yours and pinned you to the wall, biting gently on your lower lip. You moaned into the kiss, tugging on his top lip as his tongue found yours. Oh, how long you have waited to shove your tongue down his throat [not that you wanted to ruin the moment]. But it was all over when Bucky pulled away, backing up as if he realized what he just did. You were so out of breath you couldn’t get out a word, added to the excitement of what just happened. 
“Y/N, I-I’m sorry...I didn’t m-mean to do that without asking-” His voice was hoarse from the kiss, driving you mad. “Don’t you ever, ever, apologize for that again,” you said, your eyes blown dark with lust. Just as Bucky was about to speak again, you jumped on him and kissed him again, hot and open-mouthed. Thank god for his reflexes or he might not have been able to catch you in time. As the elevator dinged, you two never parted as you pulled his hair just enough to elicit a groan from his throat. He carried you to his room, swiftly opening the door and dropping you over the bed, parting momentarily to breathe again. Pulling off his shirt and moving to hover over you, his steel dark eyes bored into yours. 
“Understand that you’re mine, and only mine.” He said, face mear centimeters from yours.
“Prove it, Seargent.” You tested, loving the nickname on your tongue. He cocked his eyebrow just before he started something with you that wouldn’t end until the early morning hours, and let's just say the whole tower had heard it.
As your eyes sensed the sunlight filtering in through the window, you growled and rolled over. Your head felt like a freight train ran over it and that sunlight wasn’t helping. You may or may not be hungover from the night before. 
“Bucky...” You mumbled, shifting your hand around the bed with your eyes tightly shut, looking for a part of him. “Bucky?” You repeated, opening your eyes this time. Looking around the bed, you were met with only sheets and pillows. You were about to be disappointed had completely abandoned you in his room, but as soon as you heard the shower running in his bathroom you let out a relieved sigh. Maybe I should join him for round two, you thought. But before you could, you thought it would be better to let him be and go get coffee for you two and bring it back here. 
As you unraveled your sheets and stood up, your knees almost buckled beneath you and you felt extremely sore in a certain area. “Holy shit,” You thought to yourself, remembering last night. You tried to walk normally as best you can without wincing, sliding Bucky’s plain white tee and a pair of his shorts on before heading downstairs.
Once you reached the kitchen, you saw Sam, Nat, and Tony at the counter, eating various foods and drinking coffee. 
“Morning,” You greeted, making your way to the coffee pot. 
As they all greeted back, you suddenly heard Natasha choke on her drink and Sam starts laughing. Tony stayed oddly quiet. Turning around as you poured the dark liquid into mugs, you eyed Nat suspiciously. She couldn’t keep a straight face and Sam couldn’t breathe. Tony was smirking into his cup. “Had a fun time with Tinman last night?” He asked, looking up at you. You rolled your eyes, “It was the clothes that gave it away, wasn’t it?”
Sam had another spout of laughter while only Natasha answered back. “Not quite, honey. You have a little something on your neck.” Your nostrils flared as finally, Tony started laughing, immediately you turned to look at the glass walls reflection. 
You head several, very big, reddish purple bruises around your neck. One just below your jaw, another mid-throat, several around the side, and a rather large one that disappeared below the collar. You gasped, covering the tender skin. “That son of a bitch!” You picked up the two coffee mugs and headed out, swearing that you’d kick their asses later.
“BUCKY!” You yelled in a playfully-angry tone. He had just gotten out of the shower, towel still wrapped around his waist and hair still dripping wet. God did his chest looks gorgeous in the wet morning light. He turned to you smiling genuinely, right before his eyes caught the blotches on your neck too. He sucked in his bottom lip, covering up a mischevious smile. 
“Yeah, you jerk! Look what you did!” You said, turning into the bathroom, Bucky following you. You looked in the mirror more thoroughly, rather surprised at how big and efficiently he made the bruises. “You fucking branded me. I have hickeys everywhere!” You pulled up your shirt up slightly to show your stomach, where you found several more, and one on your inner thigh. Bucky couldn’t contain it any more a lightly chuckled, coming behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and stomach. You had to admit the cool chrome felt fantastic against your warm skin. “I’m gonna be honest, Babydoll, it was worth it. Now I get the satisfaction that everyone will know you're mine,” He mumbled into your skin as he open-mouthed kissed the back of your neck. 
“You're lucky I love you. I still might kick your ass, though.”
“I’d like to see you try, love.”
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imaginetonyandbucky · 7 years
Text
Dream a Little Dream of Me - Ch4/4
It becomes sort of a thing with us. Me and Tony. Every now and then, whenever the exhaustion hits too hard, whenever sleeping and the dreams and the lack of dreams are too much to take, JARVIS makes sure we always find each other. He was subtle about it at first, thought he was being clever having us coincidentally meet in the kitchen or gym or the roof.
Took us just few days to figure out the AI is most definitely plotting against us.
Or for us, I suppose.
Since our impromptu meetings started, things got…better. Not great or perfect but better. No more falling asleep dreading what’s to come, no more waking up miserable and angry…I’m nowhere near okay but I think maybe, just maybe I could be. Maybe there’s still a place for me in here. After the war, after HYDRA and the Winter Soldier…after seventy years living in my own personal nightmare I might be able to do something with my life after all.
Current goal number one? Make Clint stop stealing my favorite fruit loops!
“Yikes! Do you have your will sorted out bird brain?” Tony waltzes around me into the kitchen, looking between me and Clint. “Because if glares could kill…” he trails off, walking to the fridge.
Clint turns around, freezing when he spots me looming in the doorway. “What?!” he frowns at me, mouth full of my delicious –
“It’s the fruit loops, Katniss,” Tony hums.
“Wha-?”
“They’re mine,” I glare harder at the archer, who in turn widens his eyes.
“Th…they’re delicious,” he stutters.
“I know.”
“I’ll uh…buy some more! For both of us!”
“Yes, you will.”
He glances at Tony, who’s too busy searching for potential breakfast in the fridge to notice him. “O-kaaay.”
“Now.”
“Right,” he nods and bolts out of the kitchen.
“Well…that’s one way of getting rid of morning annoyances. Very handy. No pun intended,” he glances at me, eying the left hand for a second. “Making friends?”
“Clint’s cool,” I shrug. “Not cool enough to share these with him yet though.”
(Read-more ahead!)
He watches me with eyebrows raised as I sit down where Clint’s been just moments ago, confiscating the bowl of deliciousness. “Looks like you’re okay with sharing,” he chuckles, picking a blueberry jam out of the fridge and grabbing a couple slices of bread from the counter.
I almost drop the spoon, making a double-take at what I’ve just witnessed. “Are you…making breakfast?!” I blurt out.
“I’m hungry.”
Only that never stopped him from not eating anything for days. Steve of course gave me the Tony Stark 101, thinking he could pass it off as an excuse for almost strangling the man. Almost made me want to strangle him, but after a quick notes comparison with Natasha I found he was mostly right about everything.
Barely sleeps, barely eats, is reckless in battles, doesn’t listen to anyone, makes jokes out of everything to dodge anything serious…still not an excuse for what Steve did. Luckily for Steve, he’s behaving himself lately so I won’t have to punch him anytime soon.
And…so is Tony. He’s still doped on coffee most of the time – he does like his coffee, alright – but doesn’t look like he’s just crawled out of his own grave.
Wait…was he humming a minute ago? He was.
Huh.
“Morning,” Natasha sneaks in, sitting opposite of me with a smirk.
“Nat,” Tony winks at her, finishes his PB&J’s and heads for the exit. “See ya around, James,” he adds on his way out.
“Sure.”
I gotta go for a run after this. Clear my head. Before…before I start thinking about something that’s so not possible.
“James?” Natasha snorts, smirk widening.
I glare at the spy, wishing it would have the same effect as it does on Clint. “S’ my name.”
“Yeeees. It is,” she purses her lips, eyes dangerously…knowing.
On second thoughts, I’m gonna go for the run now. I back out of the kitchen, noting that as soon as I’m three steps away from the table, the still half-full bowl of fruit loops once again changes owners.
Damn Natasha.
Tonight’s one of those nights. Nights I know I should go to sleep, but don’t want to at all. I don’t even have to tell JARVIS where to take me after I step into the elevator. It goes straight up, stopping at the penthouse.
Guess I’m lucky, because Tony would usually be in the workshop this early into the evening and I w –
And he’s asleep.
Right there on the couch, still wearing his ragged and dirty workshop clothing and his left hand holding onto a wrench.
“JARVIS?” I whisper, unable to hold back a smile.
“You may wake him up, Sergeant. He’s been asleep for five hours like this, which is sufficient for now,” he replies just as quietly.
The couch is comfy, but sleeping on it for too long isn’t exactly comfortable. And if he sleeps for too long, he delves too deep into whatever nightmare decides to pay him a visit.
I walk across the room without making a single sound. Every now and then I find a good use for all the assassin skills HYDRA bothered to train me. Moving silently like this comes in handy all the time – like this, on the battlefield…or if I want to scare Sam shitless when I catch him spying on Natasha. The dude couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. I told him that…and didn’t really appreciate the comeback.
“Look who’s talkin’, Sergeant I’m-just-watching-Iron Man-for science! Or whatever excuse you’re making!”
Damn bird brains…
Crouching down next to the couch, I take a moment to observe the seemingly relaxed face of the man that would without a doubt be haunting my dreams by now – if I had any.
Maybe it’s for the best.
“Hey,” I try at first, but his peaceful face doesn’t even stir at the sound. Startling him awake would be as bad as letting him continue sleeping so I have to be as sneaky about it as I can. Taking my chances, I place my metal hand on his warm, flesh one, hoping the wrench it’s holding won’t deck me in the face next. “Wake up, Tony.”
It’s not exactly a smooth awakening, but with a sharp intake of breath and a slight jolt he opens his eyes, wide and wild for a moment.
“Sorry. J said nap time’s over so,” I smile at him, but it falters the instant I see the sheer terror in those brown eyes.
“S’okay,” he sits up, his PR face falling into place. “Didn’t wanna sleep anyway,” he yawns, looking down at our joined hands.
Crap.
I stand up, making it a subtle excuse to break the surely offending contact. The way his eyes sadly travel up with the motion confuse me enough to regret doing it immediately. “You a’right?”
“Hm? Sure,” he nods, frowning at the wrench he then places on the coffee table.
It’s the kinda ‘sure’ that makes me really restless and by me I mean whatever is left of the Winter Soldier somewhere down there. Steve used to say it, usually while his bony little face was all bloody and beaten, but ‘sure’ - he was okay.
Tony is not okay.
Whatever expression forms on my face must convey that message with absolute clarity, because he sighs and sits back against the back of the sofa.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles and it’s the closest thing to an admission of not being okay I’ll ever get from the man, if past experiences are anything to go by.
“Okay.”
“It’s…stupid,” he continues in a lowered voice. “Anyway. What brings you up here at this hour?”
“Tony, it’s just a lil’ over 6 PM.”
“It is?! Oh. So…wanna hang out?” he smiles, but the press façade is still at hundred percent.
“Yeah,” I return the smile, bright and honest.
His face falls all of a sudden. “Well, we’ve got about ten minutes. I totally forgot about Prague,” he mumbles, teeth gritted.
Ah. The International Astronomical Union thing. “I thought that was tomorrow.”
“It is. And I’m supposed to have a presentation on something that’s not even built yet!” he glares at the wrench. “Gotta go hit the workshop and do some hard core overnight inventing, just like old times. I’d tell you to come along but…”
“S’fine. Would only distract ya.” And freak out the second I stepped in there.
“You’ve got no idea…I mean,” he clears his throat and gets up, pacing around the couch. “It wouldn’t be a problem. Seriously. If you ever wanna try coming down there you can. Anytime. I’ve already trained DUM-E to make sure he wouldn’t be a bother…or spray you with a fire-extinguisher. Don’t ask, he’s got a fetish that one,” he explains with a snort, seeing my confusion.
“He sounds like fun. I’ll uh…I’ll think about it.”
“Sure. So…five minutes to go. Need a drink? Or a movie recommendation? You can stay here if you want. Or - ”
“Thanks. That’s alright. Gonna read something and go to sleep, I guess.”
He looks at me with the same ‘I see right through your bullshit’ look I used on him a moment ago.
“Fine! So it’s not alright…s’not like you can do anything about it. Or anyone, really.”
He hums in thought, eyeing the piano with what I can only guess to be determination. “Even if you can’t dream, you can occupy your mind with something, right? Imagine something? That’s what I try doing. To chase away the nightmares. Or the fear of them. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”
“It’s been workin’ lately, huh?”
He freezes…and is that a blush? Did Clint slip something into my tea? I’m seeing things now. Great. I’m gonna murder him.
“Yeah…kinda. Anyway. Thought I’d suggest it…in case it might work for you, too,” he shrugs.
“I tried, actually. My imagination suffered over the years, though. It just wouldn’t work for me.”
His lips twitch into a subtle, mischievous smirk and he moves to the piano. “Maybe we just need to give it some incentive.”
“I don’t think a little bit of Mozart is gonna help,” I roll my eyes, but he starts playing anyway.
And that’s not Mozart. Or Chopin or Bach or whoever. I don’t really know anything about music, but I know this song.
Everyone born in the twenties knows this song. It would be playing in the background while you were slowly dancing with ya sweetheart and getting your first kiss. And second, third, and so on. I don’t remember a single dance or event where this didn’t play at least once.
The melody starts rolling and Tony hums along with it. He’s made it clear ain’t nobody’s gonna hear him sing, ever.
I move to my VIP chair – as he calls it – not sitting down, just next to it. Next to Tony.
The songs brings back good memories, that’s for sure. But I don’t understand how this is supposed to be some kinda incent –
Oh. Oh.
...while I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me...
I thought the chair was the only thing capable of wiping my mind completely clean, but this right here manages to out-do it. I gape at the engineer, who’s still playing and humming the tune with a content smile, trying to make sense of what’s happening here.
By the time he’s done and rotates on the piano stool to look at me, my brain finally decides to cooperate and in a rare moment of clarity I return eighty years into the past to switch the Bucky Barnes mode on. “Are you…flirting with me in a song?”
He raises his eyebrows and for one single moment he looks shy. Tony goddamn Stark looks shy. Before I can take that in, he’s back to that mischievous smile. “Too High School Musical for you? Or not enough? Wait, you don’t know what that is, do you. Good, don’t ever let Clint bully you into watching it. Seriously, he’ll be sneaky about it and - ”
He goes on babbling in the speed of light about something something Clint, but all I heard was…the lack of a ‘no I’m not, you fool’ in that sentence. Not only didn’t he deny the flirting bit, he basically confirmed it. HYDRA spent seventy years trying to break me…and by the stunned, silly way I must look right now I guess this man succeeded in doing that in only five minutes.
“…so the question is, is it enough of an incentive for you to survive the night while I’m off to plot revenge against those damn astronomers for demoting Pluto? And yes, that’s the only reason I even agreed to the presentation. That and a chance to hit the pubs for some good beer. You’re a beer guy, right? I’ll bring you some. There’s one called ‘Demon’…and it tastes exactly as the name suggests – deviously good. Only they don’t bottle it…oh well, I’ll bring the whole cask! Uh…you okay?”
I shake my head a little, trying some sorta hard reset or somethin’ before he calls 911. “You…you’ve just told me…in a song to…dream of you,” I sum it up, more for myself than anyone else, really, because his growing smirk is telling me he knows all too well what he’s said and what it means.
He shrugs, raising a challenging eyebrow. “The song’s telling you to do a lot of things, actually. I don’t remember all the lyrics, but I’m pretty sure at one point there’s something about saying nighty night and kissing and holding tight. I guess we can skip that – even though that’s my favorite bit – and you can just tell me you’ll miss me, go do the dreaming part and we can revisit the rest tomorrow after I crush that presentation.”
He says it so matter-of-factly that the million questions flooding my brain disperse into thin air this instant. He’s dead serious. He’s…deadly seriously flirting with me. With. Me.
As if reading every word of my inner dilemma, his cocky smile eases into this gentle little quirk of lips I’ve only ever seen him use…well…with me…and stands up. Taking two swift steps right into my personal space he grabs both my arms in a gentle hold and leans close enough his lips brush against my left ear. “How does that sound to your imagination?” he whispers in a tone that is probably just as innocent as Clint’s apologetic pout. Not at fucking all.
I finally manage to will my head to move and lock gazes with the engineer, his eyes more alive than I’ve ever seen them. And I have been paying special attention to them lately, alright?
I’m not the Bucky Barnes of old…he would definitely do something more than just imagine things right now. But HYDRA and all the fuckery it’s put me through be damned – the Bucky Barnes I am now is NOT out of the game yet. I still know how to play it. So I will.
Finding the courage to put one of my very own smirks on, I return the gentle hold, place my hands – flesh and metal – on his hips and lean closer to whisper as well: “I’ll miss you.”
Not at all innocent – voice or hands.
And now that I’ve said what he suggested, I’m gonna go and do what he suggested as well. So I take a few steps backwards, memorizing that partly satisfied, vulnerable and partly something-else-entirely way he’s watching me right now and turn around, walking back to the elevator.
It’s already here and opening, but I decide to give into the swirling curiosity after all. “Is that what you’ve been doing lately?” I glance back at the now openly grinning man. “Dreaming of me?”
He shrugs. “Maaaaaybeeee…? Although, lately is a bit…inaccurate, to be honest.”
Day one hundred of discovering useful Winter Soldier abilities – the ability to maintain eye contact with a stone cold, unreadable expression despite a volcano of emotions is exploding in my head. That’s right, HYDRA, I’m about to utilize seventy years worth of your training efforts not to assassinate people, but flirt with Tony Stark.
So while I leave my already wild mind deal with Tony’s revelation, I back into the elevator, watching him – and him watching me – until the doors slide shut and JARVIS automatically moves it down to my floor.
“JARVIS?”
“Yes, I have already downloaded the song to your StarkPad music library,” he answers before I can even ask.
That just goes to show how brilliant the AI is. Like father like son. But there’s one more th –
“I have also taken the liberty of including a full version of Sir’s instrumental performance of the song. There is also one where he sings along, but I wouldn’t recommend it for listening-before-sleeping purposes. But if you are ever feeling down and in need of a good laugh then it is available to you as well.”
Okay…there’s a fine line between brilliance and actual mind reading. Gotta watch out for this one.
I go through my evening routine and when I’m all clean and tucked in, I put the piano piece on repeat. The volume is gentle enough to be almost soothing and it doesn’t really take long to be lulled to sleep by it, the melody going on and on in the background until morning.
“Before you murder me, I did not eat your fruit loops!” Clint throws a disclaimer my way as soon as I enter the kitchen.
I glare at him – and Sam, Steve and Natasha too, for good measure – not believing a work of it. When I make it to the cupboard I indeed find the box of fruit loops completely empty and just left in there as evidence of the unforgivable deed.
A mocking, teasing gesture. Oh when I find who’s done it I will…nevermind. Bird brain is lucky, because this fine early morning I am in a very good mood.
So I might not have dreamt last night, not really. But the events of the evening kept replaying in my head – with the added bonus of my not so brain-dead imagination throwing in a little bit of…somethin’ to keep my mind occupied for a while, that’s for sure.
“For once, Katniss isn’t lying,” Tony materializes in the doorway, ready to storm the conference, fancy suit and all.
That fancy suit however wouldn’t stay there very long…courtesy of my imagination.
“For once? What’s that supposed to mean?!” Clint pouts, glaring at a suspiciously amused Natasha.
“How do you know he’s not lying?” I narrow my eyes at Tony, trying my usual intimidating look but god! Is that difficult to do to him. When he’s all suited-up and grinning and…what aftershave is that?! Without a doubt designed to torture me.
“Why, James, isn’t that obvious?” he beams and brings an empty bowl he’s been hiding behind his back into view. “I know, because I ate them.”
Clint chokes on air, eyes bulging out. “You’ve got a death wish?!”
“What’s going on?” Steve frowns in clear confusion, looking between the all of us.
Tony only grins more, setting the bowl on the table next to Clint. “Sharing is caring,” he shrugs, raising just one eyebrow in quite the practiced fashion.
I couldn’t agree more…but he’s not getting away that easily. “Well in that case…” I turn around and pour myself the remaining Stark Potion of Life.
The way Tony’s grin breaks and molds into absolute horror in a second as I bring the cup to my lips almost makes me burst into laughing. Him and his coffee, seriously…
I torture him but a moment longer, before offering the untouched cup to him. “Sharing is caring, huh,” I smile but narrow my eyes immediately. “Some things I’m not gonna share. Just so you know.”
He takes the cup, pouting. “Good. Me neither.”
“Speaking of sharing!” Clint ruins the moment by jumping between us, putting his hand around my shoulders, leaning close with his patented smirk of conspiracy. “I’ve heard all about Nat’s ninja dream, Steve’s weird riding on the subway dream…so, your turn!”
“You dreamt about riding on the subway? The fuck?!” Tony turns his attention to Steve, who’s still blinking between us like we’ve just erased his brain or something.
“I’ve had…you could call it a dream I suppose,” I tell Clint, leaning against the counter behind me. “I dreamt a little dream of a little someone. Well…not so little now that I think about it.”
“Eeeeyyy! Now we’re talking dirty, metal man!” Clint exclaims, hitting my metal upper-arm with his fist. “Tell me everything!”
I lock gazes with Tony, who is back to grinning like a mad man. “Not sharin’ that with you, bird brain. And what are you lookin’ at? Go, you’ve got to avenge Pluto and get back here with the beer.”
“Bossy…I’ll be off then. Behave, boys…and ninja,” he gives Natasha a courtesy bow and with a wink my way, he walks out of the room.
I can’t help but watch his retreat – studying all the curves for science purposes of course – and it seems to be the last straw for Stevie, who definitely noticed with all his confused staring.
“Did you just…never mind. I’ll be in the gym,” he shakes his head and all but runs away.
With sudden wave of clarity I didn’t think my brain would ever be capable of again, I realize it should really be me running out of the room.
I should be flinching out of Clint’s bro half-hug, I should be freaked out by yet another one of his dream questions and I should most definitely be even more freaked out by the fact that I am not.
Not flinching away, not freaking out, not running away.
A man can’t afford any of that while on a flirting mission with Tony Stark. And said flirting mission needs more…research. JARVIS will help, I think.
Looks like I’m just gonna have to wait until the evening for…the man of my dreams. And make sure I’m a man of his dreams as well and not the nightmares.
And I have plenty of incentives on my mind for that.
~The End <3
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stefciastark · 3 years
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Soul World ~ Webpril Day 3
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A/N: Just a heads up, major character death to follow in this one-shot. Here is my response to the day 3 prompt: Soul World. My brain could only come up with this depressing scenario, so I apologise in advance for any sadness that may ensue! I think I ruined my own night be writing this, but worry not! There will be non-depressing IronDad coming tomorrow in part 3 of my 'Peter in the Mines' storyline :) Once again, written in a bit of a hurry at 2am (gotta love study getting in the way of every waking moment), so apologies for any small mistakes throughout. Without further ado, prepare the tissues x
~Read it on AO3
~Read it on FFN
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Tony was tense. That much Peter could see. The harsh lines on his face spoke volumes to the deep unease that saturated his every movement and every hypervigilant shift of Tony’s eyes.
Peter couldn’t explain the level of creepy that this place was. When they arrived on Vormir, Peter was first struck by its strange sense of beauty; hues of pink, purple, and red dancing through the sky, all dwarfed by the biggest solar eclipse Peter had ever seen. The atmosphere was thick and suffocating, like being thirty feet underwater yet still dry and saturated with oxygen. He supposed those comparisons contradicted each other, but in all honesty made a weird kind of sense.
“Hey Mr Stark, do you know where we’re going?” Peter glanced around at all the nothing that surrounded them.
“My guess would be those two giant rocks that look like the gates of hell.”  
True enough, far up in the distance on the peak of a tall mountain – the only mountain in sight – were two pillars. Peter agreed with Tony’s brief assessment; they really did give off an air rife with unease.  
“Alright, turn around kid, we’re taking the shortcut.” Tony gestured with a twirling motion for Peter to face away from him and hooked his arms under Peter’s. As Peter’s back made contact with Tony’s chest plate, he almost had the air squeezed out of him as micro-magnets in each suit secured Peter’s position. Mr Stark really did think of everything.
Even though Peter’s suit was designed by Tony, and even though he could swing from buildings and was in no way insecure of his powers compared to the other Avengers, being hoisted upwards thousands of feet into the air and propelled forwards with exhilarating force was an experience Peter couldn’t quite get comfortable with. He knew he was safe and yet it all felt so out of control, so when they landed at the top of the mountain surrounded by what looked like medieval ruins or what Peter thought looked like something out of Skyrim (he had to explain to Tony what that was), he thanked the ground profusely for simply being there.
“I’m going to go in, get the stone and come out, ok? Just wait here and tell me if anything…alive shows up.”
Peter watched as Tony headed towards the cliff face, and in blatant disregard of Tony’s request – not that Tony wasn’t used to it by now - did a small half-jog half-run to catch up. Peter was met with a stern look from his mentor followed by an exasperated sigh. “Sorry Mr Stark, this place gives me the creeps, I just wanna help us leave sooner.”
“Yeah, okay, fine whatever, just make sure you don-”
Whatever Tony was going to say was cut off. Peter was met with a metal clad arm protectively splayed across his chest, Tony guiding him so that he stood slightly behind.
Looking over Tony’s right shoulder, Peter saw a hooded figure emerging from the shadows. As the light revealed more of the individual’s features, Peter was taken aback by the bright red skin and skull-like appearance before him.
“Welcome, Anthony, son of Howard. Peter, son of Richard,” the strange man’s voice was raspy, as if it had been long unused.
“Sorry, Darth Maul, but we have business here, so if you’d excuse us.” Tony moved to step around and resume looking for the Stone’s whereabouts but froze once more as the man probed.
“Wait, was that a Star Wars reference?” Peter wasn’t sure whether or not to be proud. Either way, his comment was left unacknowledged.
“Is it the Soul Stone you seek?”
Tony had now positioned himself directly in front of the figure, staring straight into his eyes, probing for answers. “What do you know about the Soul Stone?”
“A lifetime ago, I, too, sought the stones. I had even held one in my hand. But it cast me out, banished me here, guiding others to a treasure I can not possess.”
“My heart bleeds for you.”
“What you seek lies in front of you. As does what you fear.”
“Look, enough with the riddles, we’re on a tight schedule here.” Peter saw Tony becoming more agitated, tension rippling just under the surface. This place was making Peter uneasy, too. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that although there was no immediate danger, they weren’t safe either.
“The Soul Stone holds a special place amongst the Infinity Stones. To ensure that whoever possesses it understands its power, the Stone demands a sacrifice.”
“What kind of sacrifice?” Tony and the red-faced man turned to Peter, who had broken his silence once more.
“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul.”
A heavy quiet descended upon them. Then, Peter met Tony’s eyes, and in that moment they both knew they had simultaneously come to the same realisation. When Thanos held the Soul Stone in his gauntlet on Titan all those years ago, Gamora had not returned with him. A soul for a soul.
Tony took off, resolve and sadness in his eyes as he looked at Peter before his mask re-materialised. Altering his trajectory for the cliff edge, Tony froze, hovering momentarily over the colossal drop onto the stone below.
There was no way in hell Peter was going to let Tony sacrifice himself for the Stone. Peter was just a kid from Queens, and Tony was Tony. Tony was a pioneer of their time, and one of the world’s biggest heroes and legacies. To Peter, there was simply no other option. To Peter, his own life wasn’t worth half of Mr Stark’s. Using the small window of opportunity where Tony remained unmoving midair, Peter aimed his webs for Tony’s legs, and after they met their target, yanked down and back hard.  
The Iron Man suit harshly met with the ground beneath them, and even though Peter knew the suit was hardy, he still winced internally at the sound of scraping metal. “Sorry Mr Stark, but I can’t let you do that.”
With a low groan, Tony pushed himself back up, fear and adrenaline making his mind race. Quickly filing through all his options, he opted for a well-placed missile to Peter’s left that send him flying along the cliff’s periphery. Whatever it takes.
Catapulting himself once more, Tony only used the blasters in a short burst to give him the momentum he needed to send himself over the edge to begin his descent, and gravity would do the rest. He’d lived his life, and he’d be damned if Peter lost his life too early protecting one of Earth’s jaded defenders. It just simply wasn’t his time, and Tony didn’t think he could live with himself if he lost the kid.
Peter shook his head rapidly to clear the smoke – both mental and literal – from his head. He pulled his mask over his head and tossed it to the side, the cool air on his face bringing him back to the present and flooding his lungs with rich oxygen. His right web shooter was sending out faint sparks, and Peter figured it must have been damaged from the blast. Crap. Testing his luck to see if there was any chance it still worked, he was disappointed but not surprised when nothing shot out in response to his efforts. His heart nearly stopped when Tony was nowhere immediately in sight, until he heard an echo of the tell-tale sound of the suit’s blasters.
Pumping his arms and legs as fast as he could, he made his way to the edge, and lowered himself down to where he was hanging over the side. Letting himself slide down another twenty feet, he cemented his grip into the rock face, and – just in time – aimed his left web shooters at where Tony was now falling.  
Tony’s eyes were closed, not wanting to see the ground rush up to meet him, wanting instead to finish saying his goodbyes to Pepper, to the team who had become like a family, and to Peter, who had become his adopted son. Even though he had looked Death in the eyes before, this time there was an overwhelming sense of finality about it. And Tony was ready. He had succeeded in marrying the woman of his dreams, having one – no, two – incredible children in his life, and leaving a legacy behind he could be proud of.
Tony had only just begun to feel his stomach drop as he fell when he was harshly jerked back once more. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of long white webbing extending from his right shoulder to where Peter was stuck to the cliff face, right arm tense and trembling from the magnitude of the momentum he had to stop, and the new addition of weight he had to support. Tony knew he couldn’t hold on forever.
“Tony, please.” Peter felt his face become wet with the tears that now streamed down his face. He had never known his father, and while Tony had started as his mentor, he was now family and the father he never had. And he was now faced with the crushing reality that he was about to lose the only father figure he’d ever gotten a chance to know.
The suit’s mask receded. Tony wanted to look at Peter one last time. It broke his heart to already see the grief and loss that plagued the boy’s features. No, not a boy. Peter’s all grown up now. Tony smiled to himself, and thanked the universe that he got the privilege to see that small nerdy boy from Queens grow into the strong, heroic man who would one day change the world.
“You’ll be alright,” Tony said, nothing but sincerity in his words. He knew Peter would be okay.
“I can’t do this without you, I ca -”
“Yes, you can. I’m so, so proud of you Peter. More than you’ll ever know. Look after Morgan and Pepper for me, will you? Tell them I love them. Tell them I’m okay.” The sad smile on Tony’s face slowly faded from his expression. It was time to go. “Love you, Pete.”
The suit began to de-materialise, and the point of contact Peter’s webs had had now faded away. Peter watched in horror, unable to form words through the tightness in his throat as he saw Tony fall. Turning his head into the crook of his arm, he didn’t want to see the moment he hit the ground but flinched as he heard the dull thud moments later, and then all was silent.
The clouds parted over the pillars, bright blue light manifesting in a crescendo above him before it all went dark.
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As he came to, it took Peter’s mind a while to understand that what had just happened wasn’t only a terrible dream. Small tremors rattled their way under his skin, but the cold wind and frigid pool of water he lay in didn’t bother him anymore.
Numbly, he forced himself to his knees, and began to unclench his left fist, hoping and praying that there wouldn’t be anything there and that his hands would be empty. That Tony would be returning to consciousness in the water next to him, groaning and complaining but warm and alive and that he would tell Peter that they’d find another way. As Peter’s fingers unfurled, what started as a faint yellow glow grew brighter until the water below his hand looked like its own small sun.
The silence was broken by a choked sob forced from Peter’s throat as he clutched the Soul Stone to his chest.
A/N: I'm so sorry for this depressing one-shot, but thankfully that prompt is now out of the way and hopefully we'll be on to greener pastures prompt-wise for the rest of the week (at least I hope haha). Please let me know what you think, and part 3 of The Mines will be up tomorrow xx
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