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allandoflimbo · 2 years

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Take It Back: His Story (5)

Sequel to Take It Back

Previous Chapter

Summary: You and Bucky. It was supposed to be a happy ever after. Your story, home, and love was near perfect. After all, you had worked so hard and suffered so much to be where you finally were. But behind the scenes, Bucky had been dealing with more baggage from the past than he had been willing to publicly share. Steve was always the second best when it came to him and Bucky. From Nat, to you, and maybe now, even someone else. It’s been seven years since Ashlyn cheated on Bucky, but nine since she first fell in love with him.

Two years after their public divorce and after starting therapy, she holds onto a dangerous mixture of jealousy and strength. With new friendships and new love on her side, she knows she should let Bucky go. But should is so hard to do when she loved as hard as she did.

A/N: I know the pacing of this up until now has been a little...strange, maybe tedious, but trust my process. This was the only way it would've worked to tie everything in together. It was a hard outline to get on paper, took many drafts of getting it just right, but this is the way it works. I apologize if the back and forth was whiplash, but trust me. It'll make sense looking back. From here on out, the timeline and pacing will be more straightforward to follow. Basically, it'll be Take It Back but from Bucky's POV, the scenes we never saw, stories we never saw, emotions we never saw, (I'm talking that year gap where Y/N and Bucky fell in love while he was still with Ashlyn) and eventually it will go into the present where the continued story will...well, continue. Trust. Also, please let me know your thoughts. I beg you to even spam me. Your words encourage me as you read. Thank you.

WARNING:

This story will contain sex; oral, m/f penetration, anal sex, dry sex, rough sex, shower sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, porn watching, and soft sex. Very strong language, strong adult content, use of drugs/alcohol, sensitive topics like marriage trouble, illnesses (both terminal and mental), one incident of almost non-con, college frat parties shenanigans, and emotional angst.

Story will take place TWO years after Bucky and Y/N got married but will also do flashbacks to the same time line as Take It Back 1 and their college years.

Rating: Rated R. 18+ ONLY. 🔞 no minors.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Masterpage for Take It Back: His Story

After much work, and many planned events, they came to a conclusion together.

“Do you want to come inside to talk?” He can sense the slightly hesitation in Natasha’s tone, “My roommate won’t get back till tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

They had spent all of winter break together in the city trying to rekindle the romance in their relationship.

He looks over at Nat as he turns the car off. The heat is barely off for a few seconds before the cold temperature from outside already starts cooling the car again.

Bucky unlocks the car doors and they both get out.

They’ve been stalling around the inevitable conversation for a few weeks now, but it was time to finally lay it all out.

Nat opens the door to the backseat, grabs her bag, and swings it over her shoulder.

The walk to her room is quiet.

She sits down on her bed and Bucky takes a seat in her chair.

He turns to look at her, both elbows on each knee and hands clasped in front of his face.

“So…” she starts.

“Yeah.”

“We’re great together, right?”

“Of course. You make me happy.”

“You make me happy, too. And I love always being there for you just as much as you are for me.” She responds.

Bucky nods. They both look down, debating how to carefully say the next few words.

He reaches forward and takes her hand gently into his.

“You helped me in ways I can’t put into words. You still do, and I want to always have you in my life. You, Sam, and Steve, even Connor, are the best people in my life right now.”

Nat nods her head, a small smile forming on the edges of her lips.

“But we’re not in love.” She says.

Bucky shakes his head back and forth.

“No, we’re not.” he pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, “But it is a different kind of love we have. Our friendship.”

“We can’t force it just because. Maybe the first few weeks we just had to get it out of our system. But aside from the physical—“

“Exactly.” Bucky lets out a chuckle and nods, “We’re good friends, Nat.”

Their eyes meet once more, this time their face becoming serious.

“We’re both okay with that? Staying friends?” She asks.

“I’m more than okay with that.” She runs her thumb over the back of his hand. He watches her movements closely.

“You know I’ll always be over protective of you right?” Bucky smiles as she responds, “Probably more than Steve. I’ll always want what is best for you, for all of you.”

“Thank you.” he says. She looks up at him when she feels his hand on her face. He leans forward and places a small kiss on the apple of her cheeks and then running his thumb over that same spot, “Really. Thank you for everything.”

They stay like that quietly for a few more minutes.

Bucky bites at his bottom lip and then looks away from Nat, debating if he should bring this up now.

His hand drops off her face.

“I need to say something, and maybe it’s not the best time to ask this,” He searches her eyes for a few moments, “I spoke to Steve a few weeks ago.” Nat’s eyes drift down briefly at the mention of Steve’s name and this does not go unnoticed by Bucky, “I won’t go into detail, for the sake of both your privacy and because it has nothing to do with me, so it’s not my place to get involved,”

“Bucky—“

He smiles and shushes her.

“It’s okay. But I do need to say this,” He can see what may be a glimmer of tears on Nat’s eyes. He wonders what the hell happened between them, or more importantly what it was she was thinking, “Steve is a great guy. If there’s something you need to say to him, or something you wish to work out with him or explain, you should do it. All you have to do is talk to each other.” Nat swallows thickly, “Okay?”

They stare at each other for a few more minutes, a look he’s never seen before in Nat’s eyes is there. He wonders what that is.

She eventually nods.

“Okay.”

Bucky hangs his head down, relieved.

“Okay. Good.”

They spend the next few minutes talking about mundane things like their classes and how Bucky’s Steven King binge is going.

When he leaves her room, he feels light.

It wasn’t because him and Nat broke up, but because something great came out of that room.

Understanding, respect, and a continued friendship.

Sitting back in his car, Bucky pulls out his phone and sends Steve a text:

It’s done. We agreed to stay friends. It ended well..

——

Present

“She never did, did she?” Doctor Raynor asks, “Nat. She never spoke to Steve about it.”

Bucky shakes his head back and forth.

“No. Not that I’m aware.” He says.

Raynor purses her lips and nods.

“What happened after that?”

Bucky takes lets out a deep breath as he leans forward in his seat.

“I mean, it was college. It was normal. We all stayed friends. Nat and Steve didn’t talk as much as you’d think, but I remained friends with both of them, and I included both of them for everything. As well as Sam and Connor. I continued doing my gigs during Christmas. I haven’t touched a guitar since, though. But it was just that; college.”

She types.

“How was your relationship with your father?”

Bucky bits his bottom lip as he looks down at the tips of his shoes.

White Nikes.

“It was surprisingly well,” Raynor raises a brow, “And I only say surprisingly because of judging off what we know now. But at the time, it was just as you’d expect. He was a good dad to me. Sure, we had different values, but he was my father and he treated me well. After senior year, that summer I finally took up the internship at the company.”

“What did you do there?”

“I was his assistant for four months. Come end of September, he started taking me with him to his meetings to learn the ropes. Nat and Steve applied, too. They got in but I got the classic nepotism treatment. I started getting cliental on my own by second year. Not high profile. We all worked together. George started to become a little more assertive towards me at the end of my first year. It was obvious he was trying to make me his carbon copy.”

“What was—”

“I was too broken. I was too nice,” he spits out cutting her off, “I was a pushover as well as a sensitive little punk. I was nothing like him. He was a great CEO. If there’s one thing I won’t deny until this day about George is that he was good at what he did. Our firm became the biggest and more reliable representation for the biggest cases in the city because of him. He built the name. Even more so when he and mom got involved in politics. Trying to run a senator campaign and all that. Barnes Enterprises didn’t do proceeding pro se, so even with my Juris Doctor I hadn’t gained his full confidence or respect. I don’t think I was ever truly made to run a law firm like he was. CEO’s with legal background are always preferred, like George. But a lawyer isn’t always a CEO. It’s a different Carreer path. Steve was a different story. He was good. He is good. He was even better when George start getting involved in sketchy shit.”

“James—”

“Again. I was never good enough. I’m still not.”

Doctor Raynor moves up in her own seat and looks Bucky in the eye.

“Have you ever spoken to Steve about any of this?” He looks at her bewildered.

“No.”

“Maybe you should. About all of this.” Raynor types on her laptop. “How do you think the relationship between you, Steve, and Nat influenced your future relationship with Steve?” She asks, pushing back the previous conversation for now, but hoping the new question would make him realize on his own how important it was for him to communicate with his friends.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Bucky says slowly and calculating.

“How has your relationship between you and Steve been since you and Y/N got married?”

Bucky thinks for a second, truly thinking about it, and his eyes drifting downwards.

“It’s been fine. Maybe not how it used to be, but it’s fine.”

“How so?”

Bucky groans.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know what you want me to say,” his tone is almost annoyed at this point, “We’re still friends, if that’s what you’re asking. We keep in touch every once in a while. We try to.”

Raynor is unfazed by his sudden sharp temper, knowing she struck a nerve worth striking.

“Does it come easy?” She asks in a monotone.

“Sometimes, I guess. Part of it,” he clears his throat, “A lot of trust has been lost with me as a friend. He’s been nothing but good for me and time after time I just, I feel like I’ve always let him down.”

“Did you ever ask him what really happened between him and Y/N?”

Bucky scoffs, gently running his hand over his black wedding band.

“No,” he says it like it was an absurd question, "It’s in the past. Plus, most of it was forced on his part. He really wanted something that she wasn’t fully in all the way. She didn’t want it as much as he did.”

The clock on the far left quickly becomes of interest to Bucky.

“If that’s the case, do you think maybe that’s the reason things are tense now? Maybe when he found out about you and Y/N it reminded him of him and Nat. Is there a part of you that ever considered that possibility?”

He ticks his sharp jaw. His blue eyes dart back to his therapist whose eyes are starting to sink into his deepest souls.

He hated it.

“It’s possible. I never spoke to him about it. It doesn’t help that we have the same women involved in our lives.” He says it without thinking.

Dr. Raynor nods. She pushed her laptop away and leans her arms on her table, hands clapped together.

She was relaxed and trying to make this more genuine for him.

“I have two more questions for you. Was there ever a part of you that maybe became curious to know if maybe what happened with her and Steve wasn’t fully unrequited? And I don’t mean that she was okay with dating him, but maybe she was okay with more with him, deep down? At the time.” Bucky doesn’t like the questions she asks, “Maybe his emotions and feelings towards her and towards you were justified and that’s what contributes to the continuing of this lingering tension between the both of you?”

Bucky clenches his teeth and looks away from her.

“I have. But it’s not my place to ask.” He mumbles.

Sue him for not obsessing over the inappropriate idea of the past relationship between his wife and his best friend.

“You asked him that same question more than ten years ago when he was with Natasha. This is no different.”

Bucky glares at the doctor, a snarl on his lips.

“Y/N is my wife. This is different. And it won’t change anything.”

“Of course it won’t change anything between them, and it won’t brew anything, but talking about it will fortify your friendship with Steve, which would be a great step in the right direction. I think you should listen to his side of the story, too. For the sake of making peace. Closure.” Bucky doesn’t say anything to that, “as for the second question,” She clears her throat and turns her computer back to her. She types something briefly, “Ashlyn.”

There’s silence.

Bucky’s eyes hesitantly meet hers, and just like that, the look in his eyes almost convey a whole different man. It belonged to a man who had been betrayed. An ex-husband.

What was once bright and bright blue were now dark and stormy.

She continues.

“What is it that still bothers you that you’re afraid to say?” She asks quietly.

He can feel his hearth beating away rapidly in his body, and not in that good way. It was the kind that made him see fiery red and want to rip everything apart.

Bucky looks at his fingers and picks at their tips.

His licks his bottom lip and furrows his brows.

What is it that he was afraid to say?

He doesn’t realize he says it out loud.

“I love my wife very much,” he whispers gently, “The love we share is indescribable. She knows this and everyone does,” he takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes tightly together.

“Go on.”

“But the complexity of which it happened, we happened, when we both found out how we felt about the other, it was—“ he looks up and meets the doctor’s eyes. She can see the sorrow in his own, “it was inappropriate,” he moves up in the leather chair again, as if moving up was the only way she could hear him and now raising his voice, “I cheated on Ashlyn. Let that sink in. I want for one second, for that just to sink in. I cheated on her emotionally, mentally, and physically. And I’ve heard it a million times, especially by the tabloid that loves rubbing it in everyone’s faces, especially hers I’m sure. I’ve heard the retaliation sentence: yeah, but she did the same to you. If not, worst. She was a gold digger and she cheated on you, too. I’ve heard it already. Like a broken record to my ears.”

He takes a deep breath to continue.

“But here’s the thing,” his voice breaks slightly. Saying things he’s been holding in for years was making him emotional, “There is absolutely nothing pretty, nice, or justifiable about that comment; about that statement. There is nothing about that sentence that makes it better or makes what I did, or she did, okay. Whenever I would hear it, the hurt and torment that went through me was unbearable, and it also made me beyond frustrated because everyone loves rubbing Ashlyn’s face across the mud and making me the good guy.”

Raynor tries to keep her face without showing biased emotions at his words. He was surprising her.

“Before I fell in love with Y/N, I loved Ashlyn,” she can see the genuine tenderness in his face as he says it, “I loved her and she did love me. That’s what they don’t understand. It was not fake. Not the beginning. I’m not sure when it stopped but it was real.” His voice soften towards the end.

“The public, meaning my friends and family too not just the media, underestimates the love we shared. They seem to forget that she was a good woman, in a different sense that I understand than they do, because they only saw one part of it all. What they see is an unfaithful wife who wanted money, what I see is Ashlyn. My ex girlfriend, my ex-wife, the mother of my unborn baby,” the tears in his eyes are heart shattering, “It bothers me so much every time I see something awful written about her because of what she did, meanwhile I almost did the same thing and I get categorized as a good man,” he licks his lips and sits up taller, “But these are things I can’t tell anyone, because they would get the wrong idea.”

“But here’s the thing, it’s not about having the wrong idea, and it’s not about me saying I still have romantic feelings for her; it’s not, because I don’t. This is about the simple fact that everyone needs to have a reality check that they’ve only ever heard one part of a story and that they seem to forget that we were in love and that what she did to me killed me! I love Y/N so much, but in the beginning, I was consumed with guilt for so long because of it! I could’t look Ashlyn in the eye because of my cowardliness. I had moved on from her, shit I was ready to abandon her,” his voice breaks again, "and I loved her sister, but it still bothered my conscience. Meanwhile, she was sleeping around hurting me and it seemed to not even have bothered her, when we had shared the love we did for as long as it did. I don’t give it a crap if it makes me sound like a hypocrite, but her cheating on me killed me.”

“Not only my heart, but my self confidence, my trust for anyone, my feelings of capability as a man!”

He takes in a deep breath to calm himself. His voice is somehow still vibrating off the walls, even though he stopped. He sniffs and looks down once again.

“When me and Ashlyn were together, I tried my very best to try and continue to make it work between us, and people ask me why, why would you want to continue to make it work?” He looks up again until blue meets brown, and he scoffs, “Maybe because we were in love at one point? Maybe because I didn’t expect her to be cheating on me the whole time? Maybe I didn’t try hard enough? Did I do something wrong? Did me and her do something wrong? I know she messed up, but why? Why did she do that when I know she loved me? I know she did. Am I doing something wrong now? Maybe it hurts because at the time I wanted to make it work. Maybe because I knew a side of her nobody else did. Maybe it was because I was part of that relationship and they weren’t. They only ever saw a small part of it.”

“And those memories of our relationship; knowing she took that and destroyed it, took it for granted, hurts me. It changed me. I’m a hypocrite and I know it, but knowing that part of me felt like I wasn’t good enough in the beginning undid my entire morale as a man. Knowing that I felt what I did for her for so long and then slept with her sister does bother me. I was never that kind of man. But, all of this, I’m telling you - they don’t know that. And it doesn’t surprise me because they don’t know our side of our story. It’s not their fault.”

“And your biggest fear of telling it to your wife—“

“Not only is it unnecessary, but it’s because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I don’t have feelings for Ashlyn anymore, I stopped before our engagement, but those memories and the remembrance of what I did feel will forever stay with me.”

He wipes under his eyes after a tear manages to leak out.

“I still don’t know any of the details of her affairs or why,” his voice is even quieter than earlier, “Three years ago, when I found out she cheated on me, we had a big fight. There was screaming and yelling, I called her a whore, almost called her a worthless piece of shit and a bitch; it was on the tip of my tongue. But I did call her a whore, and I put my hand on her wrist. Then, I walked out. I had Steve hand her our divorce papers. To this girl I was once cherished. I haven’t spoken one word to her since that fight. I never asked her what the hell happened. What did we do to destroy us?”

___

Inside, the coffee shop is almost empty, minus three other people and two baristas. The weather was dark outside and it made the orange glow inside the shop captivatingly warm.

"What do you want? I'll grab it for you, you can take a seat wherever you want."

Ashlyn tells him her order and she makes her way to the window seat.

With one last look over his shoulder, he finally gives the barista is full attention, giving him their order.

He waits patiently at the cash register, two arms out in font of him, left food bouncing up and down.

He was nervous.

This girl was gorgeous and he felt something when he met her.

He starts tapping his pointer finger rhythmically on the counter. A few minutes later, the barista turns to him with a small smile.

“Here you go, sir.”

Bucky smiles back, taking both white mugs.

“Thanks so much.”

Turning back to the table against the window, his stomach flutters.

Ashlyn’s in a trance as she looks out the window, admiring the snow fall.

He can’t help the chuckle as she startles when the mug lands on the table with a soft clink.

“Did I scare you?” “A little. I was just to captivated by the prettiness of it all.” She motions in a circle with her right hand, perpendicular to the glass. She turns to the cup in front of her, giving it her full attention, “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He responds.

They they a few sips.

“I don’t think i’ve ever been in the city during a snow storm.”

“Yeah? It’s alright,” she raises a brow at his answer, “Not to crush on your New York City winter wonderland dreams or anything.”

“Why only alright?”

“I mean,” he looks out the window and smiles. He tightens his right hand around the cup, letting it warm him, “It’s beautiful. For the first few hours, especially at night. But in the morning? Unless you have a complete white canvass out your window, you’re looking at black and brown slush and a severe slipping hazard.”

Her smiles slides off slowly.

“That stinks.”

“Yeah, but like I said. The first few hours make it worth it.” His response makes her smile.

They take more sips of their hot chocolate.

“So you’re from upstate? I don’t go much.” “Really?”

“Yeah, not unless I’m going hiking. We sometimes go to the Catskills in the fall to see the foliage, and this other park up near Poughkeepsie.”

“That’s a nice area. I live a little closer though, in Hudson Valley.”

He narrows his eyes at hers and leans back in his seat.

“Let me guess; Westchester.”

Ashly lets out a laugh.

“Yep, that’s home.”

“That’s not too far.” He takes another sip of his cocoa, “I have an apartment here with my roommate Connor, but when I’m not in the city we mostly stick around the L.I. at my dad’s place.”

Ashlyn is the new to lean back now in her seat with a smile.

“Let me guess: Suffolk county.” The edges of Bucky’s lips perk up and he bites it, “What? Am I wrong?”

He shakes his head with a bigger laugh and drinks more of his cocoa.

“How about you? Are your parents in the valley, too?”

Ashlyn’s eyes drop solemnly and her finger runs over her mug. Bucky realizes his mistake immediately. He’s seen that look. He’s been on the receiving end of it before.

“No, they aren’t with us anymore. They passed away. It’s just me and my little sister.”

“I’m sorry.” “It’s fine. It’s been a few years now.”

“How much younger is she?”

“Three years.” Ashlyn’s eyes soften, “She’s gentle. I’m trying my best to be what I can for her now that they are gone.”

Bucky nods.

“You guys are close?”

Ashlyn tilts her head to the side and crosses her arms over on the table.

“We were. When she was in middle school, we were close. I did’t have many friends so when I got home, I always looked for my parents and her. In high school, since she was younger, we didn’t have the same experiences at the same time, but I always tried to include her. I fear I came off as uncaring or cold. But I was just protective. But we were always a little different, especially me,” she takes a sip, “And I don’t mean in a good way. I was very uptight, closed, and to myself. I guess it’s my own fault, partially. When mom and dad died, it got quiet between us again. It was hard on us. It was a bad car accident. It was a head-on collision-”

“I’m so sorry.” His voice was soft, caring.

She looks down at her cup and then out the window at snow still slowly falling from the sky.

She did miss them. She just never said it enough. She never liked showing her vulnerable feelings for your sake. Death made her uncomfortable. She’d rather think about the good outcomes.

Maybe I’ll see them again one day.

With Bucky Barnes in front of her, something felt right in the world, suddenly.

She jumps slightly when she feels his hand on hers. It all felt so surreal.

“My mom died right after I came back from Afghanistan. They had chased her down after they found out and I had made it out alive, and they wanted revenge on our family. It took the officials months to find her.”

She knew the story, but him telling her directly was different. They talk for a while longer before they finally decide it should be time to head home.

With the snow piling up, Ashlyn was scared it would stop the trains earlier and she had to get home to you.

Bucky walks with her to Grand Central station, holding her shopping back from Zara for her the whole time; because he offered to.

She prints out her ticket and then finally turns to Bucky to tell him goodbye.

“Thank you again, for the tour, and for the drink,” she takes the bag from him, “It was really nice meeting you.” “When can I see you again?” He doesn’t even hesitate.

Ashlyn gapes up at him and then swallows hard.

This was happening.

“Uhm.” she’s at lost for words as he waits patiently for her response.

His face falls slightly.

“I’m sorry if that was strong, I just really like you. Figured I could offer taking you out on a date, if you say yes, of course. It’s okay if you’re not interested.” He starts taking a step back.

“No, no I am,” she says hurriedly, a small chuckle escaping her mouth as she goes into her purse. She pulls out her cell phone, “What’s your number?” Bucky smiles and tells her, “I’ll send you a text on the train. Promise.”

He walks through the entrance of his apartment door when he feels his phone vibrate in his jeans pocket. He pulls it out and unlocks it.

Hey. It’s Ashlyn. Just got on the train. Let me know when you’d like to meet up. I had a great time. Thank you again bucky

“The hell are you smiling about?”

Bucky’s head shoots up towards Connor who is sitting on the couch that faces directly towards the door.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he closes the door behind him.

“This girl I just met.”

“Is she cute?” “Yeah, really cute. Sweet, too. I think you’d approve.”

_____

“It’s about time you got back!” You shout from the Kitchen as you mix your greens in your pot.

You hear the door close shut, followed by footsteps approaching the entrance to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

You smile softly. “I’m glad you had a good time, though. Did you at least find the shirt you wanted? Only you would go shopping when you knew we would be getting a snow storm.”

Ashlyn chuckles.

“Yeah, it was nice.” She says gently.

It’s quiet for a few more moments before you cover your pot, and turned it down to a simmer. You turn around to see her smiling, her head on her hand looking at you.

“Are you okay? You’re scaring me.” She nods.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You squint your eyes at her.

“What happened?”

“I met this guy.”

You smile and roll your eyes.

“Should’ve known that’s what it was.”

“He is so hot, and he’s a gentleman, and my god, Y/N, it was like out of a fairytale!”

You smile again and make your way to the other side of the island, sitting down in the barstool that faces her.

“What’s his name?” There’s a twinkle in her eye.

“That’s the thing. It’s Bucky Barnes.”

You squint, your head suddenly in a swirl.

“Why does that sound familiar?”

“Because it is. You know, Bucky Barnes. George Barnes’ son, from Barnes Ent—”

“Wait, no way.” Both your brows raise as you remember how he’s literally a famous lawyer, “Ashlyn, there’s no way.” You say, smiling even more wide now.

“Yep. He looks exactly the same in person. We’re going out again.”

“That’s amazing,” you sighed resting your own head on your hand, “I wish I remembered what he looked like. I just remember the article a few years back about his mother, but that’s it. It was really sad.”

“I”ll introduce you to him. You’ll love him.”

______

Their first date is at Bucky’s apartment for dinner.

Connor was out of town for the weekend visiting his family in Michigan.

After dinner, Bucky took her hand, and asked her to join him in the middle of his kitchen for a slow dance.

As the song neared its end she turned around until she was facing him.

Their eyes met in an intense heat. Bucky swallows hard as he gently pushed her hair back.

Closing his eyes, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Ashlyn feels her heart swell.

"That's our first kiss."

"Yes, it was."

He sighed contently as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

“I want to take you somewhere.” He mumbles.

“When?” “Right now.”

She pulls away from him and gives him a confused look.

“We already ate.”

He smiles.

“It’s not a restaurant,” he looks over towards the coat rack, “Come on, bring your coat. It’s not far.”

He was right. It doesn’t take longer than twenty minutes for them to get to their destination.

She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d this cheesy and unbelievably romantic, but she is.

He’s got his chin rested on her right shoulder and his arms wrapped around her torso.

“It’s beautiful.” “Still can’t believe you never saw it.”

The Christmas tree at Rockefeller.

“Yeah, well.” Is all she says. She smiles contently, allowing herself to be swayed by him.

After a few moments, she feels a tug on her waist; his hand. It’s turning her around to face him.

She’s barely faced him all the way, her hand just almost cupping the side of his neck, when he leans down and kisses her deeply. A real kiss this time.

And just like that, it starts snowing again.

____

It was the best date of her life. Like a true gentleman, after they leave Rockefeller, he drops her off at the station, staying with her until her track is called, and kissing her goodbye.

The train ride home is quiet and content, but her thoughts are anything but quiet.

She’s not sure if it’s everything happening so fast and if it was because luck was finally on her side, but she feels a sudden fear.

She’s scared that what she is going through is too good to be true, just like it was when she had her family after school.

She was terrified that she couldn’t hold onto this feeling forever; happiness.

But for some reason, she also felt empowered. She never felt that before. She never had the confidence to feel like maybe she could actually do something for herself.

For the first time in her life, she feels inclined to take life by the balls and enjoy being happy and maybe doing something for herself.

She even considers the thought of maybe finally moving out. A fresh and new start. She spent so long not wanting to move on emotionally after her parent’s death, maybe it was now time. Her only concern was you. You were younger. Your safety came first.

She would discuss it with you when she got home.

She’s texting Bucky the entire ride home, telling him how much she cares about him and he tells her he feels the same. It feels like a fairytale.

What are you doing when you get home?

Bucky asks.

I might stop by to get milk real quick. I need to check with Y/N if she needs something from the store actually

Ashly says.

Be safe. Text me when you get there.

I will.

Laying in bed, he closes his iMessage app and opens Instagram.

He finds Ashlyn and starts snooping through her photos. He only recently followed her and he hadn’t had a chance to see any of her pictures yet.

They were simple and he could tell she didn’t spend a lot of time on social media. She only had twelve posts.

Most of them were scenic; photos of a park and a beach. The others were regular candid shots of places and some of her in the photo posing. Most of them were between a year and a year and half old, no more than thirty likes on each photo. He clicks randomly on a picture of a cute border collie laying on her lap.

He reads the caption.

Was nice making a best friend here in PA! We’ll be back, pretty Mia. @miathecollie @paairbnb @y/l/n_y/n

That must be Ashlyn’s little sister. He clicks on the last @ and it takes him to your instagram page.

You’re private but he can see you in your profile picture. Now he could put a photo to the name. He doesn’t request to follow you since he hasn’t met you yet, but he knows he will eventually.

He exists out of the app, and when Ashlyn texts him that she’s in town, and eventually goodnight, he quickly falls asleep.

Next chapter

@rebloggingmyrecs @kjdara @angstsebfan @lethallyprotected @lilfuturescars @ccmarvelxx @thesneakylittleminx @empress-of-riva @death-unbecomes-you @sonicisnotsober @sebsgirl71479 @prettywhenicry4 @dhoruwolfie

#Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #y/n #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic

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himbo-beel · 3 years

Text

Going Crazy (for you)

I don’t have a translation for Barbatos’ song but all I can think about is Barbatos coming to the realization he likes MC but can’t admit it, and, the further he gets from them, the easier it is to accept it, the safer it is to harbor those feelings, until he can’t hold back anymore.

_____

He must have been ill, Barbatos thought, as he loosened the knot of his tie. An unlikely occurrence but not an impossible one, and the most reasonable to describe the light flush on his face and the thin sheen of sweat down his arms. More probable than other ideas - he would have remembered if a window was left closed in the rooms recently cleaned or a draft requisitioned for repair that would have otherwise left the castle less stuffy. But not if he was ill, he supposed.

An early night, then. A warm cup of tea of a brew different from his usual, one to soothe rather than calm to prepare him for the morning. And, perhaps, another one for...

“Would you like something to drink?”

You glanced up from your work and blink tired at eyes at him. It was a familiar sight on an unfamiliar face and Barbatos lifted a gloved hand to hide a smile lifting his mouth. It was a look he was accustomed to see on his lord’s and, less often on Lucifer’s when he, exhausted from bills and forms and paperwork, could no longer hide it. They were looks that meant work for Barbatos, to place gentle words before them about rest and time, work to balance efficiency and quality, but on you...he was almost ashamed to enjoy the way your lids fluttered over your eyes and the way your back sloped gently in a slouch over the texts you poured over.

“No, it’s getting late and I’m-”

“No need to fret, I was about to make one for myself. It’s just as well to fill the pot for two cups rather than just one.” The grateful smile you flashed fit well with the shadows just beginning to form under your eyes and Barbatos nodded, dipping his head deep to further hide his smile. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Perhaps not too shortly. The hallway was cooler than the room you were in and Barbatos found himself rolling his sleeves down to cover his bared forearms. Maybe it was not a lack of drafts after all, but a quantity of them somewhere else. Or it could have been....

No. Barbatos shook his head. Aside from a bit more work to be finished in that room the only thing to differentiate it from the rest of the caste was you. How that correlated to his present state was...a mystery?

Barbatos enjoyed a good mystery, but the thought of you being one? He didn’t feel compelled to solve it. What was there to solve in the first place? He enjoyed your presence. Your conversations were captivating and your actions memorizing. He looked forward to your greetings in the halls at R.A.D and prepared for your visits to the castle with as much care as a visiting dignitary.

As any respectable butler would. What puzzle pieces were these? How did they fit together and how did they bring him to be impatient for the water to boil?

Barbatos watched kettle, arms crossed, a foot tapping against the floor. This was most unlike him. It would be wise to mention a quick word to his lord for a late start to the day tomorrow before he ended the night early. With how long it was taking the water he could wrap up the small task in time and he would...

He would have to ask you to leave when you finished your drink afterwards.

That was something he was loath to do.

Another piece to this puzzle.

It was a greater mystery than he had thought after all, and one that was sending his thoughts in a circle. He could better reflect on it tomorrow rather than run himself crazy with such a spiral.

The kettle finally sang and Barbatos filled the cups, balancing them on a tray as he returned to your room, steps quicker than they had on his leaving.

“I’ll get going as soon as I finish this,” you said, taking a cup with both hands and, perhaps Barbatos was going crazy. He had said not a word before you spoke, and, though they’d been the same that he had wish to say, he hadn’t intended it to feel like this.

Sorrow. Loss. Longing.

Ill he was indeed.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me barbatos #my writing #obey me fanfiction #obey me shall we date fanfiction

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venomous--fics · 3 years

Text

Anon asked: maybe a continuation of the peter b parker kid thing where they finally confront the mom and get the readers things back 😩💞💞

a/n: ask and thou shall receive! this spent so long in the drafts bc i felt so insecure about it tbh, so any feedback is appreciated! I love seeing messages about what you guys think! really keeps me motivated! also, requests are open

Warnings: mentions of past abuse

Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, constantly looking at the clock. It was almost 5pm, you were supposed to be home an hour and a half ago. Yes, he keeps track of everyone's schedules, yes he knows the exact second you should be walking through the door. He's already texted you, but maybe you had detention. Nah, you were a good student, he highly doubted you'd have to stay after school.

His phone finally rang, and he was way too quick answering it.

"You okay?"

"I need some help."

"What is it?" he was already out the door.

You sighed, knowing he was probably going to give you an earful later.

"Well, it's a really long story, right.. But my mom showed up after school-"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think. Anyways, we got into it on the way home, which is no- Not normal." you adjusted how you were sitting, "And since she was dragging me back to the house, I figured I'd just get my crap and come home, right? Makes sense, saves us the tri-"

"She took you without permission?"

"Technically she is my m-...Parent. I guess, y'know, legally she can do whatever- But..Okay." you began to feel bubbles of anxiety and pain and even resentment form deep in your core, "She locked me out." You rubbed your neck.

"Are you," he paused, looking around at all the faces passing by him, "Still there?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."

"I keep causing problems for everyone."

"Not for me. Or Mj."

It was quiet on your end.

"You still there?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in like ten minutes."

"You probably shouldn't."

"Nah, nah." He said, having a sudden wave of anger rush over him, "Let me take care of this."

And true to his word, Peter was there in ten minutes. You hopped up from your spot on the porch as he made his way up to the door and knocked on it as hard as he could. He gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

The door swung open, and your mother seemed awfully surprised and confused to see some random man just standing there. Peter held no emotion has he looked her dead in the eye, "Can we come in."

She opened the door wider so that way you two could step in.

"Go get your stuff." is all Peter said to you.

Wasting no time, and not wanting to be in the middle of a potential argument between the two, you skedaddled to your room. It almost felt like too much to be in there. It looked so empty and barren compared to your room at Peter and Mjs place. Seems really dull. Lifeless, almost. Dust covered every surface, which meant that nobody had ever even bothered to see if you were even still in there.

You heard their voices from the living room, but they seemed so distant, seeing as all you could focus on was every shitty thing that woman put you through.

You remember the day that you got bit. It made you deathly ill, and you just thought you were dying from some sort of allergic reaction to the spider bite. You tried to get her to take you to any doctor or anywhere that could help because all you could seem to see were stars.

Everything then was so loud. Everything was so bright. It was all too much, and you were certain that the reaper was waiting for you. What did she say?

"Suck it up and stop pretending. Everything has to be so dramatic with you."

Or that time you forgot a single item on the shopping list. You got this whole speech about how stupid you had to have been. To forget one item. It was the world's most useless item.

Everything else seemed to play all over again, all at once. Like a waterfall. It should've made you sad. It should've made you cry, or scream.

You recounted all the times you wanted to fight back, or just run away. Leave everything behind and just run until your legs gave out. But you never did. You always found some reason to linger.

The conversation was growing louder where Peter was.

"You aren't going to do this to them ever again. Sign the papers."

You nearly dropped your last belonging on the floor as you scrambled to your door. Papers? He wasn't serious. Well, obviously he was. He just said it.

"Fine. It's not like the-"

"Zip it. Sign the papers."

"Who are you anyways? The law? If so, whatever they've told you is a b-"

"Listen, lady. I didn't ask for any attitude. I told you to sign the papers." he seemed to huff in annoyance, "That doesn't require talking."

"I'm a good mother."

"And I'm the king of France."

"Really. I gave them a good home. I have fed them and kept them warm-"

"Really? You think you did all that? Or are you convincing yourself that you did all that?"

"I am-"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Ye-"

"I've never said this about anyone, ever. I don't like speaking to or about anyone like this.. Ever, but, you? I think you're a piece of shit."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, look. You finished signing the papers. I'll take those. Thank you."

Realizing that it was your time to go, you stuffed your blanket into your duffel bag and rushed out the door and down the hall. Peter looked at you, expecting to see at least three bags. But he only saw the one.

"Where's the rest of your stuff."

"Uhm," you shuffled around, pretending as thought you dropped some, "This...This is all my stuff."

"That can't be ri-" He laughed a little, and noting the expression on his face, you saw that he was NOT happy. "That? That single duffle bag is all you have? That's it?"

"Yes..." you took a step back, "This is all.."

"I can't believe it." he said, "You're joking! One bag worth of stuff?"

He turned his attention back to your mother, who, for the first time in your life, actually looked like she got caught red handed, "You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

"But they're so u-"

"No! No, you don't get to talk anymore. You've done enough."

You awkwardly shuffled behind him, in the event that you two had to make a mad dash out the door. That and you needed to not be seen as you tried to hide your almost evil grin.

"The hell is wrong with you? You have this amazing kid, and THAT'S all you've ever gotten for them? And you sit there and call yourself a mother? Absolutely, without a doubt, bullshit. I'd be ashamed of myself to call myself a father if that's all I've provided for my kid. Don't even get me started on you as a person, we made that clear."

It almost felt cursed to hear him swear, seeing as he made it a point to tell you to not swear. Every time you did, you have to give a quarter to the swear jar. Mj was always on your side, though. She'd say a swear that was much worse and have to pay a dollar. Each word had a value.

"Maybe we should just go." you suggested, tugging on the sleeve of his arm, "She's not worth it anymore."

"She was never worth it, it seems."

You finally made eye contact with her, and the look in her eye. It's like she understood, but was choosing to not do anything about the situation. She could look sorry all she wanted, but you knew she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. You know that right."

"That means nothing to me."

"I can change."

"If you can change now, that means you could've changed then. You just chose not to."

"But I'm your mother, you should realize how I feel. You should want-"

"You're not my mom. You stopped being my mom the first time you-" You turned towards the door and started walking towards it, "Whatever. You mean nothing to me."

You practically kicked open teh door just to leave, and Peter was right behind you, shouting about how he'd make sure to egg her house everyday, just to piss her off.

"Do you really think I'm amazing?" you asked, the walk home feeling rather quiet.

"I think you're more than that. Just can't put it into words."

"Did you really mean it...That we could egg her house?"

"You want to? There's a store right on the way home."

"How about tomorrow."

"I'll have to clear up my busy schedule. See if I can work in a drive by egging. Well, swing by egging."

"You promise?"

"You kidding? I haven't egged anyone's house since college."

You had so much more you wanted to get off you chest, but you opted to just talk about it at home, with everyone present. You wanted to talk about how you felt about everything, and the papers. Whatever those were. But you were, for the moment, busy laughing about Peter's story about how he used to Egg this one reporters house. Someone named Jonah.

You wonder if Jonah ever put two and two together.

#marvel imagine #marvel x reader #into the spider verse x reader #into the spiderverse imagine #peter b parker imagine #peter b parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader

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spideymarvelws · 4 years

Text

The Movie Night

Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!Reader

Main Masterlist

Part Two

Summary : You and peter have a fun time in the compound

Warnings : SMUT! (sir kink, dom!peter, sub!reader, oral (fem and male rec), dirty talk, pussy slapping, face slapping, degrading)

A/n : Just a little something I found in my drafts thought i would finish it, maybe get back some confidence in writing (this is also a result of me on my period so peter is a lot more aggressive that it should be but it iz what it iz)

Word Count : 1.7k

...

“Peter, fuck,”

“Quiet babygirl, don’t want anyone hearing you now do ya?” Peter grunted in your ear, quickening the pace of his digits deep in your cunt.

Using his other hand, peter wrapped his fingers around your throat, bringing your face next to his, his cheek pressed against yours. Your hips jut out a little at the action, grinding down on the bulge evident in his jeans, “or is that what you want princess?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head, your legs shaking slightly at the upcoming orgasm coming your way.

“Peter i-” you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came all over your boyfriends fingers. Your mouth was wide open to let out a strangled moan but it was quickly interrupted by peter’s lips on yours. Your body sagged on to his, your mouth moving lazily as he slowed down his fingers and pulled them out of your now dripping pussy, soaking your white cotton panties.

“Fuck babygirl,” he moaned, lifting you up by your waist and lying you down on the couch, his knees on either side of your thighs, his hands still wrapped around your hips.

“Peter we shouldn’t-” you started, but quickly lost the rest of your words as he took off his shirt, throwing it to the side.

“Shouldn’t what?” He replied cockily, bending back down over your body, latching his mouth to your collar bone, “Shouldn’t fuck on your father’s couch?”

��Yes that-” you gulped as he unhooked your bra, “That’s exactly what i mean,”

“Well last time i checked,” peter smirked at the whine you let out as he played with your breasts, “He’s not here right now,” He continued down your body, “Neither is anyone else,” he tugged at the waistband of your panties, “Which means we have this place all to ourselves,”

You lifted your waist, biting your lips as he slowly dragged it down your legs, leaving you open and bare for him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, as he littered your calf with kisses, moving up to your inner thighs. But as his face hovered over your heated core, he looked up at you, staring intently into your eyes, “Just say the word and ill stop okay babygirl?”

You nodded, too scared that if your opened your mouth you wouldn’t be able to close it after that. You were hesitant at first, the innocent movie night you and peter had planned at the compound was not meant to go in such a sexual direction. But it had been two weeks since you’ve seen each other and with the combination of collage and work with the avengers, it a was a stressful two weeks for the both of your to say the least.

You were desperate, and as much as you didn’t wast to admit it, the thought of Peter fucking you in such a open area excited you, and he could tell as well by how wet your pussy had gotten over the past few minutes.

A harsh slap to your pussy awoke you from your thought, “Words pretty girl,” Peter said, starting to wrap his arms around your thigh.

“Yes Peter,” you whimpered, wanting him to make contact with your aching heat.

“Peter?” He tilted his head to the side mockingly, “Don’t think that’s my name right now babygirl,”

“yes- yes sir,” you squeaked, throwing your head back as he made a bold lick up your clit.

“Good girl,” he groaned, his eyes growing darker as he dived into your pussy, eating it out like a starved man.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You groaned, running your hands threw is hair, tugging at his roots harshly. He chuckled at your movements, sending vibrations up your body making you shiver.

“Greedy,” he mumbled, pulling you closer but your thighs, “my greedy girl,”

You giggled at his words, bitting your lip as you watched his head move from side to side, up and down, ravishing every inch of your pussy. You chest raised with deep breaths as your high approached.

“Peter,” you moaned, but his head raised up slapping your cunt once more.

“We went through this y/n,” he growled, using his thumb to rub your clit, “I’m starting to think you like that a little to much you fucking slut,”

“Fuck- I’m sorry sir, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, your hands grabbing at the cushion beneath you, “I’m gonna cum, fuck, i’m gonna cum,”

“Cum for me then,” he muttered, moving his thumb faster, “You’ll get your punishment later,”

The combination of peter’s dirty words and his tongue working wonders against your lips your organism was intense, leaving your body shaking with pleasure.

He trailed his lips up your body, his hands on either side of your head before locking your lips together. You both lazily made out, peter nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it lightly before diving in against.

“Are you alright?” He cooed, resting his hand on your cheek swiping his thumb against the skin.

“Yeah,” you rasped, trailing your hands down his pecs, tracing his abs before gently palming his hard on threw his boxer, smiling as he his head fell on your shoulder, “Are you alright, sir?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he murmured against your skin, letting out a moan when your thumb moved against the tip, “fucking tease,”

“Mhh, you love it,” you hummed, retracting your hand and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Tell me what to do sir, tell me how to make you feel good,”

“Oh baby girl,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk tomorrow,”

“I’m counting on it,” you whispered back, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

As you both locked lips once more, the only thing flashing through peters mind was his cock in your mouth. You, on your knees, like an obedient little slut, tears streaming from your eyes with spit dripping from your mouth. Your pretty lips wrapped around his shaft, milking it for its worth, deep down your throat.

But before he could make his vision a reality, he heard foot steps making its way toward the living room. As he opened his mouth to alert you, your fathers voice sounded through the room, following by the opening of the doors.

“Honey?” He called out, making his way over to the couch.

“Shit,” you both whispered, scrambling to find your clothes that you had thrown haphazardly across the giant couch.

Peter knew you both wouldn’t have time to but them on before your father caught both of you. Making sure you grabbed all your clothes, he grabbed your waist pulling you to his chest on top of him. He covered your naked body with a thick blanket, concealing everything but both of your heads.

Your legs ended up straddling his waist, grinding your bare heat against his clothed cock as you moved to get more comfortable. Your head landed against his his shoulder as he pulled your closer by the hips, gripping the skin tightly so that you couldn't move.

“Quit squirming would ya?” He whispered into your ear, letting out a deep breath.

“Well sorry if this position is uncomfortable,” you whispered harshly back, wrapping your arms around his shoulder, settling into his body.

As Peter opened his mouth to respond, Tony popped up behind the couch, leaning against the back cushions. You held your breath as you watched his eyes brows raise, his gaze falling on both of you, to the movie on the screen in front of you then back on to the both of you again.

“Why does it look like the both of your just saw a ghost?” He said, clasping his hands together.

“Scary movie,” Peter responded quickly, clenching his jaw as you moved your hips slightly against his, breathing heavily against his neck.

“Frozen is a scary movie?” He quirked his eyebrow.

“When Anna sacrificed herself,” he said quickly, “Truly heart wrenching scene,”

“It’s the middle of the movie-,”

“This is our second viewing,”

“Why not just move on to the second movie instead of rewatching the first?”

“Why don’t I enter through the front door instead in swinging through the fake window I have installed in my room to enter the compound?”

“Fake window-,”

“Hey dad,” you finally butted in, knowing that if you let peter rambled any further you would both get caught, in more things that one, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a night together, I’ll talk to you in the morning okay?”

Tony sighed, leaning back off the couch, not before shooting peter a confused look, “Okay honey,” he said slowly, walking to the over side of the living room, waiting for the automatic doors to open, “Just, use the condoms i put in your room alright?”

You breath hitched at your fathers words, you squeezed your eye lips together tightly as you heard the elevator doors close, leaving you and peter alone once again.

“Did you really have to mention your window hologram,” you groaned, sitting up and stretching your back.

“Well I’m sorry if you were grinding against my dick the entire time,” he growled, taking you up by the hips and turning you over. He ran his fingers threw your hair, pulling you up against his chest, his other hand wrapping tightly around your throat.

“You know, I was going to go easy on you for your punishment, but now I’m not feeling so fucking generous,” he nipped at your ear, “But now, baby girl, the only person allowed to cum tonight is me,” he chuckled as you whimpered at his words, “I’m gonna fill you up, your mouth, your pussy, maybe even your ass too until all you could think of is my name and my cum dripping out of you,”

“Sir, i-,”

He moved his hand from your throat to slap your face, curling his fingers back around your neck after the harsh hit, “No more talking for you slut, only taking, taking everything like a good little cumwhore,”

You nodded your head quickly, your pussy dripping without even being touched.

“Now, i want you in our room, down on your knees, ready for me by the time i get there okay?” He said lowly, taking his hands off of you and handing you your clothes, “Or else I’m getting out the gag, are we clear,”

You nodded again, hustling to put on your clothed and running to your room, tripping on your way up the stairs.

You were in for a long night.

...

Permanent TagList : @jadegill @joyleenl @sarcastic-sunset-7

Peter Parker TagList : @ietss

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker smut #marvel smut #peter parker x rogers!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #dom!peter #sub!reader

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thedevilliers · 3 years

Note

Hey, I've been reading your story for a while, and I'm enjoying it very much. Following the De Villiers has been so fun, and you've inspired me to create my own royal Simblr!

Can you maybe share some tips about what to do with your royals? I'll be posting my family within the next few weeks, and I have already planned out several engagements + events, including visits to parks/schools/hospitals, parties, and news surrounding a royal pregnancy. I've also planned out the first arc. I don't know what else to do, and I've barely started! If you have any tips related to the beginning of your Simblr that you didn't cover in your other post, I would so appreciate them. I want to get all this nailed down *before* posting, so my blog is the best that it can be.

Also, if you have any advice on how to make things as efficient as possible (especially regarding posing sims, editing/writing posts, etc.), I would love that! I want to cut down on time wasted wherever I can.

Thank you!! :-)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 me?!!?!?! ME ??????? omg 🧍‍♀️ thank u for reading my story 🥺 and AAAAAAAAAAAA your own royal simblr !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ill answer everythin under the cut !!!!! spoilers: it got long sorry

first of all, remember we ALL started somewhere. you can look at my first like... fifteen and even MORE posts and they are BAD. oh my gawd idk why i thought they were good, but hey! i learned things from them. you will more than likely change your mind about certain things from the beginning of your blog to who knows, four months from now. don’t focus and worry a lot on ‘perfection’ and setting up ‘high standards’ from the beginning. treat it like a learning curve! this is something we all do for fun, so don’t get stressed a lot on it. you can always change and adapt things and that’s no problem!

i love lists, so im gonna list a few things of advice/tips basing myself on what you said!!!

i personally don't do engagements anymore, so i can't really help you in this regard of even more activities you could do 🧍‍♀️ what i could recommend for people to get to know your characters' personalities and private lives and grow attached to them, add in BTS posts.

continuing on my BTS’ post thing, they are a GREAT way to show more than what the public sees for your royals. because from a press and public point of view, you don't really know 'what goes on behind closed doors'. they could be all happy in public, but in privatE??!??!!?!?

as i said in my starting out guide, i did have around ~15 drafts done before i started posting. just so i could not stress about “oh my god i dont have any posts for tomorrow”. a LOT of ppl do posts and queue them as they go, and they have MANY posts done and usually they start accumulating and they are MONTHS in advance compared to what they’re currently posting. if this method works for you, you can definitely use it!

please, please please read your dialogue OUT loud. is it possible to say a 2093023902 word sentence without a singular use of punctuation? do people in this age and era really talk this way? also please if possible use correct grammar. just a little pet peeve, it can take a reader out of the immersion your story gives them.

we all have our lil dialogue habits. mine is starting sentences with “oh” and the infamous dash “—”. others use ellipses. just make sure you aren’t overdoing it. for example, doing a sentence like “oh— there you are. i was uhm— looking for you. how—how are you? its—i mean where have you uhm— been? yes—ive—ive been fine. you? i mean— your mom” ....just no 😔 it doesnt read well at ALL

you can always do lil filler posts, dont tell anyone tell you otherwise. post a little simstagram post, a little family portrait, updated portraits post, family hanging out, kids hanging out, etc.

for posing sims, i do try and remember where MOST of my poses are in the ingame list. usually creators’ correctly naming the poses helps a lot. for example i need a Mel Bennet pose; hers are usually ALL in the same spot and have the same lil aqua bg so i can easily find them. sometimes, i dl pose packs VERY specifically for a certain scene. am i gonna use them again? no. so i open the .package file in sims4studio and rename them to “00 for emi scene [rest of the og name” so when i open my game, they are around the top of the list! no more scrolling and i easily know what i need it for.

dont be scared to plan things that are happening MONTHS from now or anything in detail. some ppl dont like planning things in detail, or even dont like planning things AT ALL or things that arent happening say, in over 2 weeks because idk, they get bored. i recommend at LEAST having a list of things that HAVE to happen so you have ‘goals’ and you slowly plan out how you’re gonna get there. at LEAST theres some level of planning there. if you’re posting and PLANNING as you go, there’s gonna be holes. and it’s gonna be obvious.

editing wise, i don’t do much. my reshade does most of the work, i just add in my psd, add text and done! this is easily the fastest thing you will ever do.

if you get inspired by someone else doing, idk, a certain layout for the portraits, them adding little things to their captions, a certain edit, etc. if you want to do something similar and you ARE very much aware you were inspired by them, credit them in the caption. i beg. its free, its the nice thing to do, bc if not its rude.

if you get inspired by a certain storyline someone else did and you notice yours is gonna be similar, go ahead and send them a message to let them know and if they have any tips or feel uncomfortable with you doing this. simply put, if you don’t, you’re gonna look bad. we are all bound to do same storylines, such as assassinations, shooty shooty’s, stalkers, first loves, accidental babies, etc. but what changes is how each person approaches it. no ones gonna do it the same way as you and others. if you CONSCIOUSLY start copying else, stop it. and you could even be unconsciously be inspired by someone else too. it happens! just make sure you are able to look at the bigger picture and realize “hey, i’m doing something wrong”

same thing with dialogue. you like a line someone else said in their story? don’t just... steal it and incorporate it into yours word BY WORD

OVERALL: you can be inspired. give credit where it’s due. and don’t copy because someone else is doing ‘something others like’ and you want others to like your story. no no no !

im adding this AFTER i posted it but, be yourself. in the way you interact with others and send questions, etc. don’t try and copy someone else’s personality because they are liked and essentially absorb them. be yourself and i’m sure a lot of ppl will like you the way you are : D

for my writing dialogue etc, this goes back to my point 8. i use milanote, its free and you get 200 free thingies to use, and i plan out how every single one of my posts is gonna go. so i just have to go ingame and i already know what im gonna do. no thoughts, just taking screenshots. for example, this is how a part of my part 2, chapter 3 posts layout looks like. every square is a post that has what is happening, who is in it, what is gonna be said very vaguely, etc:

11. and the most important tip! don’t compare yourself to others. i did it at the beginning. i think we all did at one point. its not good for you at all. please always remember we all are here for share our lil stories with each other and it’s not easy get a following. you’ll get there and its gonna take time. be patient, be nice!!! and i cant wait to see your story!!!!!!!!!!

#ask #howto #dam. it loNG #Anonymous

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angelinasway · 3 years

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Regaining Hope Chapter Seven

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: Thank you all for your amazing and wonderful reviews. I do need to address something though, when it comes to reviews, I honestly don't mind anyone critiquing me when comes to grammar, characterization, or even if its kind of a heavy subject and someone feels like they need to debate me on it. That is absolutely fine, for instance I knew I would get a few blocks and even someone asking about the religious views of this story. I do not mind that. I do however mind, if you think I'm a decent writer, but then proceed to belittle the content of my story. I'm going to try to say this as absolutely nicely as I can...If you don't like the content of this story, if the talk of soulmates, soulbounds, or claiming is not for you, if the romance of this story is not for you, kindly back out of this story now and please just don't leave a review. I will say that anyone who's been in the BTVS fandom long enough already knows what a Claim is pretty much a fanon canon, since its been around our fanfiction community since like 2002 at least. Wesley mentioned Angel and Buffy being soulmates in season one of ATS, so that is actually canon. I say this in the nicest way possible, because sometimes I think reviewers who don't write, do not realize how much a review about content can actually screw with our muse and inspiration and I believe there will be at least a handful of people that do write who will agree with me. That being said, this chapter took as long as it did for me to write because of a bad review, so I'm sorry for the long winded exposition everyone. I know this chapter is a bit choppy and if it wasn't for my beautiful Beta Hipkarma, I'm pretty sure it would have been illegible. This chapter deals with some pretty heavy subjects and I added a warning tag just in case. I do not expect anyone to feel the way Buffy does on this subject, and if you feel the need I will gladly talk to you through pm about it. Thank you guys so much again, and please review, unless you know its an above subject and you hate it. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Seven

The plane arrived right on time as Clark anxiously awaited Buffy’s arrival outside the terminal. He’d felt this way since he awoke this morning and he didn’t know why. It was almost like that feeling you get when you know you’ve forgotten something.

He’d dreamt of her last night and it was so vivid and real that when he opened his eyes, he expected her to be there. The feeling had washed over him after that, like a sudden cold draft in a stifling room. He’d also been as hard as nails and had to relieve himself twice in the shower. His dream Buffy whispering filthy words into his ear as he imagined pinning her to the shower wall and driving into her hard and fast. It only seemed to make the feeling worse though. There was a pounding, an almost driving force that told him he needed to see her and that coupled with the lust, he couldn’t seem to shake was a dangerous combination that he did not enjoy feeling at all.

It was so strange, yesterday he’d been fine, more than fine really. He’d walked into his house humming and smiling. His mom had noticed his exuberant mood in an instant and raised her eyebrows in surprise, a curious yet knowing quirk in her lips. She had immediately started bombarding him with questions about his evening and Clark had been unable to deny her even a single detail. Well, there were definitely a few things he left out, but he told her everything from meeting Buffy at the school to him having to sing at Lorne’s. This was a first for both of them, Clark making friends and being able to tell his mom all about it. She listened intently, a happy smile on her lips as if this was something she had always wanted for her son. The ability to just be treated normally by people, even if they knew what he was. The more he spoke about how great Buffy was the more his mom’s knowing smile grew. He told her he promised Buffy that he would pick her up at the airport, and his mom had agreed to let him use the truck as long as he promised to take her to work before he left. She had a full shift at the diner tomorrow, so he was pretty sure he could make it back in time to pick her up and take her home.

Later that night, after getting off the phone with Buffy so she could go patrol, Clark had spent the evening on the internet looking up several theories and ideas on the concept of soulmates. All in all, it was pretty simple stuff, a soulmate could be a romantic or platonic relationship with a mirroring of the souls. Where, both their values and ideals deemed them a perfect match. He had even gone to a few sites on the mystical aspects of soulmates that seemed to be pretty legit, and they believed that when it came to soulmates not only were the souls similar, but both souls usually challenge each other to perceive themselves and the world differently. In essence, your soulmate could help you transcend into a higher state of consciousness. All of that seemed to match very much with what he had been feeling since the moment he met her. None of that however, explained how he felt now.

Buffy had been right the other day when she said it wasn’t just the soulmates thing. He was almost positive the out-of-control lust and the uncontrollable desire to be near her had very little to do with the fact that they were soulmates and everything to do with the prophecy. Something wanted them to consummate their relationship, and he was pretty sure that something had a reason. He wondered if he was in danger of meeting the other woman and somehow changing his mind about her. He definitely couldn’t imagine ever doing that though, not when he felt what he felt, not when she had consumed his thoughts so thoroughly since the day they met.

He felt physically ill at the idea of ever having to fight Buffy as an enemy, Lorne’s words about killing her making him nauseous and dizzy. The demon said it most likely wouldn’t happen now, but God, what if it did? What if he wasn’t capable of fighting off this mystery enemy of the future. He shuddered at the thought, his anxiety level spiking in worry. He had to get himself under control.

As the passengers began to exit the terminal Clark looked on, his eyes searching for golden hair and green eyes. When he finally spotted her the tension that had been growing in his limbs immediately eased. It happened so fast he almost felt boneless by the sudden release. Her eyes met his and a similar look of relief washed over her face, but there was something else there. She was scared, which just made the tension begin to build again. Clark frowned in confusion, but didn’t deny her as she ran to him wrapping her arms around his waist tightly as she laid her head on his chest.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “There’s something wrong,” She whispered. “I shouldn’t be feeling this–”

“I know,” he whispered. “I feel it too.” Clark shuddered, so it wasn’t only him who was feeling it. “I think it’s time we learn more about this prophecy.”

He felt her nod. “I’ll call Wes once we get to the safe house.”

****<S>**<S>****

The drive there had been mostly quiet. The only real sound was Buffy’s smartphone giving directions to their destination. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from reaching out and entwining their fingers however, and she smiled at him gratefully before closing her eyes and sighing. They finally arrived at what looked to be an unassuming house just outside of town that rested on a few acres of property. Buffy untangled their fingers and reached into her carryon bag that was between them and pulled out a large multicolored crystal.

“Here,” she said quietly. “Hold this.”

Clark, frowned but did as she asked. Watching her as she muttered the word, “Agnoscis.” The stone suddenly warming in his palm as he caught the house in front of him shimmer for a moment out of the corner of his eye.

“Latin?” He guessed.

Buffy nodded. “It means recognize. It’s so you can get through the wards.” She bit her lip, “We can also bring your mom here, in case you ever need to hide her you’ll have a place to take her that’s pretty impenetrable.”

Clark nodded gratefully, his eyes studying the sad expression on her face. He reached out and gently brushing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. Her whole body shivered at the contact, a small gasp escaping her lips.

“Are you…are you okay,” He asked.

She shook her head, “I think it’s affecting me more than you.”

Clark was quiet for a moment, and then he shook his head. “It’s not, I think I’m just a lot better at controlling my impulses.”

Buffy chuckled humorlessly, “Maybe, that’s something you can teach me sometime.” She met his eyes and Clark lost his breath at the want he saw shining there.

God, she was beautiful like that. Her eyes almost swirling with color and heat. His temperature immediately skyrocketed, his pants becoming tight. He wanted to ask her if there was anything he could do, but didn’t dare for fear of what her answer might be. She had already told him she wasn’t ready, and if he was being honest with himself, neither was he.

He swallowed, his heart beating in his chest. “Come on,” he whispered, opening his door and stepping out. “Let’s go make that phone call.”

He walked around her side of the truck as she fumbled with her seatbelt, opening the passenger door for her and holding out his hand. She took it gratefully as she slid out of the passenger’s side, hoisting her bag over her shoulder after her feet hit the pavement. Clark reached in the truck bed and grabbed the only other bag she’d brought with her. He wondered where her weapons bag was, but remembered she’d just went through an airport and realized she probably couldn’t bring them with her.

As if she was reading his mind, she said. “Willow was here last night; I had her ward the training equipment so that we can use it without destroying it.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked up the driveway. Her hand fumbling with her keys as they made their way to the door. “I also had her fill the fridge and bring my weapons bag over.”

He didn’t say anything as he watched her slide the key in the lock and open the door. He followed her through a spacious living room that was tastefully decorated, through another door and into a modern kitchen. She slid her bag off, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. She pulled out her phone next, scrolling through her contacts and hitting send before putting it on speaker. She set the phone on the island between them and walked to the fridge, leaning her back against it as she closed her eyes.

Clark wanted to go over and comfort her, but something in his gut told him that would be a very bad idea. She was putting distance between them for a reason and he completely respected that. Her sudden change however, worried him and he was beginning to think maybe she really was suffering more than him.

"Buffy?" A cultured British male voice answered after the first few rings.

"Yeah, it’s me." She said quietly.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, his tone worried.

"No, not really." She answered. "I think it’s time you told us about this prophecy."

"Buffy, I've already explained–"

“No,” She cut him off. “No Wes, you don’t get to do this. Not now. Something is wrong with me, I feel…” Her face went red, as she looked at Clark, “I feel like I’m on fire, I…” Her eyes moved to her phone and glared, a growl tearing from her throat in frustration. Her teeth clenched as she ground out. “I feel incredibly sexually frustrated, okay? Like a cat in fucking heat.” Her face went scarlet and she avoided looking directly at Clark. “Want to explain?”

There was a sudden choking sound on the other line, as a coughing fit proceeded it. “Good Lord, it’s happening already?”

The outrage in Buffy’s eyes, did something to Clark in that moment and he stepped forward his anger simmering under the surface. “What’s happening?” He demanded.

“Mr. Kent,” Wesley said in surprise, “I didn’t…I didn’t realize you were on the line as well.” Clark heard the British man sigh, “I’m sorry we were finally introduced this way, I had hoped to meet you in person. I’m sure you already know that I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and that I am head of the Watchers Council.” There was a pause, before he continued. “I do apologize for not telling you both sooner, but I had hoped we would have a few more days before the bond started to require a need to be fulfilled.”

“Bond…what?” Buffy’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I don’t really understand it myself,” Wesley admitted. “But it’s written that once the Immortal Slayer and, I believe the correct term is Star God meet, a…I think the term is soulbond will start to form and a compulsion to fulfill it will start to take hold. Now, both Willow and I think we’ve found a way to counteract the compulsion, but I didn’t expect it would start to take hold so quickly. I do apologize Buffy; I had planned to have Willow bring me there tomorrow so I could explain.”

“What’s a soulbond, exactly?” Clark asked, “And how is it any different than being soulmates?”

“I honestly don’t know, there are very few references to what it is exactly. I imagine that much like soulmates there must be a similarity or mirroring of souls if you will, but unlike soulmates there is a need…a compulsion for a confluence between the souls. As far as I can tell, once that happens it would act very similarly to a claim.”

Buffy gasped and looked at Clark, her eyes wide and disbelieving. Clark swallowed, “What’s a claim?”

“It’s a…a type of marriage between demons, vampires in particular.” Buffy shifted uncomfortably and looked down. “It’s barely ever used now because its unbreakable, not even magic can undo it. It’s ancient and powerful and requires total trust and consent between both parties.” She met his eyes then, an apology shining through but Clark didn’t feel like he needed one, in fact he just felt very confused.

“That doesn’t make any sense, not after what Lorne told me.” Clark said with a frown. “If this bond is as powerful as you say then…” It was his turn to look at Buffy apologetically, “Then even if I met this other person first, wouldn’t the bond take hold when I met Buffy regardless?”

“I don’t quite understand what you’re referring to.” Wesley said in confusion.

Clark looked up at Buffy and saw suspicion in her eyes. “Lorne didn’t tell you?”

“Lorne doesn’t give me the details of readings Mr. Kent; he treats all his clients very much like a therapist treats a patient.” Wesley said, adding. “The only thing he told me was that you were the one the prophecy spoke of and that you were on the right path in regards to your destiny. What exactly did he tell you?”

Clark shifted uncomfortably, feeling Buffy’s eyes on him but unable to meet hers. “He said I had two very different futures, that Buffy was my soulmate but I have another as well and in this other future this woman dies and something makes me go bad.” He finally got the courage and looked at Buffy, her eyes were wide and burning with hurt and maybe a bit of jealousy. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, thinking he had ruined everything.

Buffy shook her head and swallowed, “Did he… did he say what would happen if you met her now?”

Clark nodded, "He said I'm a one-woman man, that it wouldn't matter."

She seemed to relax a bit at his words, her eyes softening and darting back to her phone as Wesley began speaking, "Then you are very correct Mr. Kent, if you met Buffy in this other future, it should have activated the soulbond whether you had feelings for this other woman or not. A soulmate is not always a love interest after all." He paused for a moment, "There are only two things that could have stopped it. One would be that you don't meet Buffy until this mystery foe had your mind or if you did meet her, she was already claimed."

Buffy gasped, and looked at Clark guiltily, “I almost asked him to claim me.”

A potent wave of jealousy and possession swept through him at her words. If she was referring to Angel, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer. Not when the very idea of her being tied like that with someone else made his blood boil.

"What?" Wesley said, shocked.

"Spike, Wes. Not Angel." She clarified. "It was...it was right after we found Alicia. I knew it could make us stronger and I... I thought it might give us an advantage against Angelus. I never had the courage to ask him though."

“And thank every deity in the universe for that!” Wesley said sharply, “I don’t think you quite understand the repercussions that could have had on not just Clark’s future but your own.” There was a long silence, the only sound was heavy breathing before a much calmer Wesley finally said, “That kind of bond Buffy…think about what you did to Angelus and multiply it by a million. I was there that day you came through the portal after Spike died. You were almost feral; your Slayer was in complete control and she wanted to kill Willow for making her immortal. There was a part of her that already thought of Spike as her mate, and she wanted blood from whoever had wronged her. If you had been claimed and Spike died…” They heard him take a shuddering breath, “You would have burnt the world and then marched into Hell without a second thought in search of him. There would have been no stopping you.”

Clark watched Buffy shiver at Wes’s words, her eyes getting lost and faraway. His possessiveness grew at her words, but a small part of him couldn’t help but be curious as to what happened between the two of them and why she so rarely spoke about him. The book had only said that the vampire had killed two Slayers, and had tried to kill Buffy on numerous occasions. He had been hampered by some form of neurotechnology by the US Government and began working with her reluctantly. Somewhere along the way he had fallen for Buffy and regained his soul, sacrificing himself for the world once, where he was resurrected by a mystical amulet he was wearing when he died. The author of the book believed he’d been brought back by mistake and the amulet was meant to be worn by Angel, but there was also some speculation that Spike may have been the actual bearer of the Shanshu prophecy. The author however, was highly skeptical about this because Spike didn’t do what he did out of heroics, even with a soul he relished in the violence of his nature. The author believed that becoming mortal would feel more like a punishment than a reward for the vampire. It spoke some about his time at Wolfram and Hart, about his part in the fight against Angelus, and how he died saving Buffy a second time.

“I don’t…I don’t remember any of that.” She said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Even what I did to Angelus, I only remember parts of it. I felt like I was outside my body looking at someone who wasn’t actually me, except I could feel what I was doing.” She shivered, and it took every bit of self-control he had not to go to her, especially when her voice cracked. “When I came to, I-I was covered in blood and…God, Wes there was nothing left but a torso and head. I…” She choked. “I even took his face.”

When a single tear tracked itself down her cheek, Clark couldn’t take it anymore and he rounded the island and pulled her into his arms, hoping she was too upset to be affected by the embrace, but not really caring if she was, not when he could feel her trembling in his arms. He understood now why she’d been so adamant the other day about her being wrong in the way she killed Angelus and about Slayers not actually being creatures of light but warriors for the light. He could never picture her being capable of such carnage even after hearing it from her own mouth. Then again, he could never picture himself killing her either or anyone else for that matter, not on purpose at least.

They heard a muffled sniffle over the line, before a choked sounding Wesley finally said, “Oh, Buffy, I never…I never knew it was that bad. We found the warehouse and the blood, so I did realize…but…not to what extent, and then you just disappeared and Willow couldn’t ever get a read on you. It was like you were blocking her somehow. Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

Clark felt her shake her head, “I was ashamed.” She answered honestly. “Lorne’s the only one who knows everything, even the stuff I can’t remember.”

“Do you remember anything that happened before you captured Angelus?” Wesley asked cautiously. “I’ve always wondered how you did it, but was always too afraid to ask after the way we…the way we found you.”

Buffy sighed against Clark’s chest, her shivering increasing. “I think I let myself be caught,” she said quietly. “The only thing I really remember is being bound magically by Amy and then Warren tearing open my shirt.” Clark stiffened at her words, his whole body going rigid. She squeezed her eyes shut, her grip on him tightening. “Angelus threw him out of the way, and said everyone would have a turn, but he got to have me first.” Clark’s anger flared at her words, his fist tightening behind her back, he had to squeeze his eyes shut at the sudden heat he felt building. “I-I don’t know how, but somehow I was able to break through the magic that was binding me. Everything’s kind of a blur after that, but I think…” She frowned, her forehead crinkling in confusion. “I think none of the spells were working on me. I think…I think I killed everyone.”

Clark found himself sighing in relief at her words. God, just the image of someone trying to do that to her made him see red. Literally, in fact. He really hoped that something like that has never happened before, because he could already tell he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from tearing whomever did it to shreds. As horrendous of a way she killed Angelus, he couldn’t judge her for how she did it, not after hearing that. God, if she hadn’t been able to break the magic… He felt himself shudder.

Wesley was quiet for a long time, “I’ve always known that Willow brought you back stronger, but being able to break a binding spell with sheer force of will is extraordinary Buffy. We should have started testing this advantage years ago.”

“I try not to think about that day, Wes.” She huffed. “I don’t think the magic going wonky even occurred to me until this moment.” She was quiet for a few moments, before she finally said, "So what happens if I bond with Clark and I lose him too?"

Wesley sighed, "Well, I'm hoping since it’s your souls that are bonding and not your Slayer, that it will make quite a difference."

"You're hoping? That’s really not a guarantee, Wes." She said in annoyance, stepping out of Clark's embrace and leaning on the island. "And what’s to stop my Slayer from trying to initiate a claim? What if this soulbond thing isn't good enough for her? Lorne already said she's been looking for her mate since I was called. He said that's why I was so drawn to both Spike and Angel." She shook her head, "Well, according to this prophecy he's my mate, right? Or the closest she'll ever get to one. So, what's to stop her from doing what she's been wanting to do for years? I mean I looked up claiming in high school, Wes. As soon as I read the word, I was fascinated."

Clark stepped around the table so he could look at her. She seemed worried and deep in thought before her eyes met his and they softened immediately, a small smile forming on her lips as she studied him.

Then they heard Wesley sigh, "I honestly don't know. We've still not even translated the whole thing and we've been working on it for over a year."

Clark watched Buffy frown in confusion. "Is there a reason you haven't gotten Dawn in on this?"

"I'll give you three guesses as to why." He said sarcastically.

Buffy snorted, saying mockingly, "Aww Wes, you're not afraid of my baby sister, are you?"

There was silence on the other end of the line and then a grumbled, "I would rather face all the demons in hell than deal with Dawn on a tirade about you."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Well tough, because I want her in on this."

"But Buffy–” He started to whine.

“No Wes,” she said cutting him off. “I love both you and Willow, you know that. But, if there’s anyone in this world who will have our best interests at heart and give it to us straight, it’s her. I want her in on this.”

“Fine,” He groaned.

Then a smile broke across her lips and an evil look of mischief Clark was slowly becoming familiar with sparked in her eyes. “Plus, she already knows I spent time with Clark the other day and she knows he’s something other.”

“How on Earth did she find out about that?” Wesley said in surprise.

Clark smirked as Buffy’s smile grew. “I may have pissed Faith off by waking her and Gunn up with a cold shower. She ratted us out.”

There was silence on the other line, but she swore she could hear him shaking his head. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.” She said chuckling and then sighed. “I’m feeling a little better now, I mean as far as the compulsion stuff goes.”

“Hmm,” Wesley hummed. “Perhaps it gets worse when you’re apart. I knew that you would feel a need to be around each other, but perhaps being away from one another has an even greater affect than I imagined. How about you Mr. Kent, how do you feel?”

Clark blinked in surprise. Now that Buffy mentioned it, he was feeling less uncomfortable than he had all morning. “Better, actually. It’s still there, but not as potent.”

“Then perhaps the theory is a sound one,” Wesley said. “However, to be on the safe side I’ll have Willow drop off the pendants she’s making this evening. They should be able to subdue most of the compulsion until you both feel ready to move forward with the bond. I would also recommend spending as little time apart as possible. I believe that the pendants are powerful enough to ward off the worst of it, however if this bond is as powerful as I think it is you very well might override the magics if the compulsion becomes too powerful.” He sighed, “I suggest staying there with Buffy for the time being Mr. Kent.”

Clark shook his head “That not going to work Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. I need to help out on the farm. While I was away my mom got behind on the payments and if we don’t bring in a decent crop this year my mom could lose it.” He looked at Buffy nervously. “You could stay with us though; we have a guest bedroom.”

Buffy nodded, “Yeah, yeah, that might be a good idea. I can help you with anything you need, and we can start your training in the afternoons.”

Wesley cleared his throat, getting both their attention. “I think you’re forgetting the contract, Buffy. He may very well not need to worry about that any longer.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. I’ll be right back.”

Clark watched her run out of the room as Wesley said, “Are you still there Mr. Kent?”

Clark looked at the phone, “Yes.”

“Good, I thought I’d go over the numbers for you and see if they’re satisfactory.” Wesley said. “I had thought of paying you as we would a hired mercenary or demon hunter, however since your role in the future will be pivotal to keeping this world intact, I decided you deserved what we would pay any Slayer, it’s only fair after all.”

“What aren’t you telling us about this prophecy?” Clark said, Wesley’s words telling him the man knew more than was saying.

He heard the man sigh, “I would prefer not to say at this moment. I already know how Buffy will feel about it, and I believe you both have enough on your plate with the bonding. I’ll tell you both, but she’s not ready to hear it yet.”

Clark frowned, “I don’t think you give her enough credit.”

“You may be correct,” Wesley conceded, “But I know she will not be happy about this, even if it’s a good thing. I, at the very least need to prepare myself for Dawn finding out, and she may very well tell Buffy even if I ask her not too. I do not believe either of you have long to wait.”

“Alright,” Clark said, “I’m going to hold you to that though.”

“Now,” Wesley said, just as Buffy walked back in the room. “How does two hundred-thousand a year sound?

Clark blinked in surprise, the blood rushing to his head. He couldn’t have possibly heard that right, could he? “I’m sorry did you…did you just say two hundred-thousand?”

“Clark are you okay?” Buffy asked, running to his side. “You look a little pale.”

He shook his head, “It’s…that’s too much.”

“No,” Buffy disagreed, shaking her head. “It really isn’t. Entering this world Clark… you’ll be putting not only your home but your mom at risk and no amount of money will ever make up for that.” She bit her lip and nodded, “Trust me on this, most demons aren’t stupid enough to mess with the good guy’s families, but the real big-bads, the uber-powerful demons, who’s only goal is destruction and world domination? Those demons won’t care, they’ll do everything in their power to try and hurt you, even if that means trying to break you.” She sighed, “It’s why I want your mom to have access to this place too. It will make me feel better knowing you can get her to safety if you needed to.”

Clark sighed, reaching out and sliding the small stack of paper out of her hand. “And what happens if I sign these and change my mind?”

Wesley spoke up, “You are not beholden to anything Mr. Kent, if you sign those and decide that helping the Watchers Council is not in your best interest, it would simply be like you quitting a job. You wouldn’t be paid anymore of course, but you would not be obligated to continue helping us either. However, with the bond beginning to form I’m not sure how you would be able to distance yourself from the Council or Buffy, but if you made that decision no one would stand in your way.”

Clark pulled out a chair and sat down, his eyes quickly reading it through. It was pretty standard stuff, nothing in it that had some sort of hidden agenda. He flipped the page and read through the rest before getting to the signature line.

“Do you have a pen?” He asked, looking at Buffy.

She went to a small drawer and pulled it open, grabbing one from inside and handing it over. Clark took the pen signing his name on the dotted line. “Okay Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I signed it.”

“Very good.” Wesley said, “Now, I don’t suppose you’re up for giving him a tour of the underground facilities?”

“Of course.” Buffy said.

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll call you before Willow leaves, in the meantime try and keep your wits about you.”

The line disconnected and Clark raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Underground facility?”

****<S>**<S>****

Buffy slid open the hidden panel in the wall of the master bedroom. She entered a number into the keypad and then looked up into a camera where it scanned her face, and slid her keycard into the slot.

The computer’s AI came online and a female voice said, "Good afternoon Miss Summers, what can I do for you this afternoon?"

"I need to give a new recruit security clearance."

"Name?" The computer asked, as Buffy removed her keycard and slid in the blank one Willow had left for them.

Buffy nodded at Clark and stepped away from the panel so he could stand in front of it.

"Clark Joseph Kent," he answered, stepping into the space Buffy had just vacated.

"Facial recognition." The computer said, and Buffy pointed up to the camera, indicating he needed to look into it.

Once that was done the computer said, "Four-digit pin."

Buffy looked at Clark and nodded, "Now choose four numbers you'll remember easily."

She watched as he thought about it a second before he put in his code. Once that was finished the computer said, "Thank you Mr. Kent, you now have full access to the Watcher Archives as well as all facilities. Ms. Summers would you like access into the rest of the building?"

"Yes," Buffy answered before the hidden wall shifted, sliding away and revealing the steel doors of an elevator that would take them down into the heart of the house. The doors slid open and Buffy removed the new keycard handing it to Clark as they stepped into the elevator, Buffy pressing the simple down-arrow button.

“We had these built in all the safehouses after what happened with Angelus.” Buffy said as way of explanation. “Or I should say, Wes and Willow did. I wasn’t really around for that.”

It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach its destination and the doors slid open. She could feel Clark’s eyes on her as she stepped out of the elevator and into the large steel control room. There were several monitors on the walls with keyboards on a stainless steel counter top that bolted into the walls along half the room.

“This is the control room.” Buffy said, “For safety reasons, if we’re ever in any code-red type situation, this room is always occupied in case someone manages to get past the outer wards. We can house up to thirty bodies here at a time and since most of us are a little something-other, we can at least hold off whoever’s broken in to give the rest of us a fighting chance to escape by sounding the alarm.”

She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t look at him right then. It was just occurring to her all that she admitted to Wesley and what she’d said in front of Clark. He was going to ask about Spike, she could almost feel it. Of all the things Wesley could have brought up, it had to be claiming. She felt Clark move closer, and wasn’t surprised when she felt him place his hand on her shoulder as she rambled on about where the exits were located.

“Buffy?” He whispered.

She sighed and looked down, “Yeah?”

“Why…why don’t you ever talk about him?” Clark asked.

Her shoulders slumped at his words, but she still couldn’t bring herself to turn around and look at him. “It’s…it’s complicated.”

“Well then, I think you should try to uncomplicate it for me, because this thing sounds pretty permanent between us and I need to know if I’m going to be living in another man’s shadow.” He said honestly.

She spun around, her eyes meeting his in surprise. “God, no. It’s not like that at all. We were…” She sighed. “Maybe we should go into another room that’s more comfortable. This is a long story.”

Clark nodded at her and she turned, leading him through the heavy metal door to their left and down a hallway the AI illuminating the rooms as it monitored their approach. Buffy led him into a large rec room, a massive tv mounted to one wall with a standard sized couch in front. There was a card table in a corner and a pool table in another. A few pinball machines lined one wall of the room and a dartboard hung near a foosball table. She led him over to the couch, gesturing for him to sit before she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She waited for him to sit down first, and sat at the other end biting her lip in thought, staring straight ahead into the black void of the blank tv screen, not sure exactly where to start. She figured the beginning was probably best, so she started there.

“When I met Spike,” she said slowly. “He was just about as evil as they come, or at least that’s what my sixteen-year-old-self thought. Though, I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Angelus yet, so I was a bit naive in that department. Anyway, his girlfriend-slash-sire had been weakened in Prague at some point and he came to Sunnydale to try and restore her and bag himself another Slayer.” She shrugged, “So, we pretty much started out as mortal enemies. We fought each other a lot that first half of the year, and he was a hell of a fighter. He almost got me on that first one, but incredibly enough my mom was the one who saved the day.” Buffy smiled in amusement. “Clocked him on the back of the head with an axe.”

Clark snorted in amusement. “Sounds like something my mom would do.”

Buffy smiled, “Yeah my mom could be pretty tough.” She shrugged, “Anyway, I ended up putting him in a wheelchair after dropping an organ on him during a spell that actually did end up restoring Drucilla. On my birthday I found out they were both still alive and Dru was reassembling an ancient demon called the Judge who couldn’t be killed by any man-made weapon. Me and Angel tried to stop it from happening, but we were both too late. That night I made the colossal decision of losing my virginity to Angel.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and sighed, “And just like that his soul was gone. Maybe that’s why I clung on to the notion that we were somehow destined for so long. I mean, the breaking of Angel’s curse literally states that only a moment of perfect happiness could release the soul. I guess I thought that if our love was enough to drive his soul away, it must be special.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Honestly, knowing Angel it had more to do with him somehow feeling redeemed in me or it very well could have been that he hadn’t dipped his wick in over a hundred years. Whatever the cause, so began several horrible months of mental torment from a demon wearing my lover’s face.”

“And Spike?” Clark asked.

Buffy sighed, “Spike went through his own torment at the hands of Angelus and Drusilla. Spike really did love her, but her love compared to his was fleeting at best. He told me once how they would mock him for being wheelchair bound and Angelus would…well, he would fuck Dru right in front of Spike because he knew how much it hurt him. I think that’s when whatever destiny Spike had must have started. He came to me and made a truce in the hopes of getting Angelus away from Dru and also according to him, he actually liked the world and didn’t want to see it destroyed like they were planning.” She sighed again, “Anyway, that’s probably the first instance where I started to see Spike in a somewhat different light. Less of a danger and more of a nuisance if that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Clark nodded. “I guess I could see that.”

“Okay, so skip ahead a few years, when I’m in my first year of college. I’ve seen Spike once in that time when he kidnapped Willow and Xander, trying to make Willow preform a love spell to get Dru back. Apparently, our little truce didn’t sit well with her and she dumped him.” Buffy shrugged, “We had one more real fight where we were actually trying to kill each other that year, and then a few months later the Initiative planted the chip in his head and then once again he came to us for asylum.” A small smile tugged at her lips, “We fought like cats and dogs that whole year. I think our bickering is partly what drove Giles to drinking so much. Then sometime during the next year when Dawn arrived and my mom got sick, he realized he was in love with me.” Buffy sighed. “It wasn’t a healthy love though, not even a little bit. He was obsessed with me. He had a weird shrine to me and he had, the super nerd Warren make a lifelike robot of me for reasons I’m sure you can guess.”

Clark grimaced before saying, “Is that the same Warren that–”

“The one and the same.” She interrupted. “I’ve dealt with some pretty gross demons before, but as far as Warren goes, he’s probably the worst human I’ve ever had to deal with.” Buffy sighed, “Anyway, as weird as Spike’s obsession with me was, he did some things that year that really surprised me. Things that normal vampires wouldn’t do, though I still to this day haven’t decided if Spike was the unique one or if Angelus was, because I know for a fact Spike isn’t the first vampire to keep a portion of his humanity after being turned.” She shook her head getting back on topic, “Anyway, he protected my sister’s secret when Glory tortured him for information and he promised to protect Dawn until the end of the world. When I came back the next year, I didn’t really acknowledge it at the time, but he was still there. Still looking out for my baby sister. It’s strange how you don’t see those things when they happen, but Spike loved Dawn like a little sister and he loved my mom too. For some reason he was drawn to us Summers women.” She sighed and looked at Clark. “I already told you when I came back, I went to a dark place.”

Clark nodded, his eyes studying her face. “You have.”

“I went to that dark place with Spike, I didn’t… when I came back, I was numb and I didn’t know it at the time, but my Slayer had gotten stronger. Part of me hated my friends, I was furious with them for bringing me back and expecting me to be happy about it.” She swallowed, “Spike became my confidant at first, he became my quiet solace. I could sit with him and just be… he didn’t…he didn’t expect me to just be okay like everyone else. I was the one who made the first move…we were under a spell at the time but that didn’t stop me from making a second move after it was broken. One night not long after our second make out session, after my Watcher decided I needed to learn to do things on my own and left, we got into an argument about the kiss and I hit him,” she frowned bitterly, rolling her eyes. “He retaliated and must have realized his chip didn’t fire. The next day, well he started a real fight with me. The first one we had since…well since our brawl before the chip.” Buffy could feel her cheeks heat up at the memory, “It was the first time I felt alive since my resurrection and one thing led to another and we…well we weren’t fighting anymore. At least not with fists. It was the first time I didn’t have to hold back and it was exhilarating.” She looked at her hands, “And the next day I told him how disgusting we were, and I was cruel and awful to him.” She shook her head. “I’m not saying that he didn’t give as good as he got, but I was always the one saying the cruel stuff first. I was awful to him Clark; I beat him once and left him for the sunrise. He was trying to help me…well, I thought I accidentally killed someone.” She pursed her lips, even the memory of Warren now days could send her into a rage. “I hadn’t, Warren once again was trying to fuck with my life, but both of us thought I did. He didn’t understand why I had to turn myself in, how much even thought of hurting someone innocent was killing me. I…I just snapped. I honestly don’t know how he managed to make it to safety on time.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Clark’s arms come around her. “He still had bruises a week later and vampires, they heal fast.” She sniffled. “Shortly after that my ex-Riley came to town and somewhat reminded me why being with a soulless vampire was a bad thing. I realized that what we were doing…we had to stop. I was using him and it wasn’t fair to either of us, so I broke things off.” Buffy shook her head, “It was hard, because I really did still want him, but I resisted. Some things happened, over the next month or two, my friends ended up finding out about us and one night, he showed up at my house. I was pretty banged up from a fight earlier that evening and he tried to…I’m not even sure he knew what he was doing…but he tried to rape me.” Buffy said quietly, she felt Clark’s arms stiffen around her, this was the judgment she’d been waiting for. “I kicked him off, and he was shocked at himself and then I said, ask me again how I could ever love you?”

She looked at Clark then, and she could see the anger swirling in his blue eyes. “That’s why Spike got his soul. He thought it was the only way he could be sure never to hurt me again. He wanted to be the man I deserved. He did it for selfish reasons of course, but the outcome of those reasons? It was worth it in the end, because he’s the reason we don’t still have a Hellmouth in Sunnydale California.”

Clark shook his head, “I don’t…how can you have feelings for someone after they…even if he didn’t, how could you have not wanted to kill him?”

Buffy shook her head. “Because love isn’t rational, because it can be beautiful or a nightmare, and unfortunately feelings can’t just be flipped on and off. I think if he hadn’t gotten his soul, I would have felt differently, and maybe I eventually would have stopped caring about him. You have to understand though…what he did, it’s never been done before. He fought against his nature and became something incredible for it. I think I would be kinda a hypocrite if I could forgive and still love Angel for what he did to me without a soul, but couldn’t forgive and still have feelings for Spike.”

“Your ability to forgive, Buffy…I think you might have me beat in that department.” Clark said.

She shook her head, “I don’t necessarily think that’s true. I don’t think I can ever truly forgive Willow for bringing me back, and you now know what I did to Angelus.” She sighed. “I really do think it depends on the transgression. Willow tore me out of Heaven, she made me immortal, denying me the peace and reward that all Slayers crave. Angelus went after people I love and he tormented and killed my sister Slayers, all of which were young girls, newly called. I know what Wes said, and part of its true, but Spike was just the catalyst, he was not necessarily the cause. It was my hate, my emotions guiding my Slayer, and it wasn’t the first time that part of me wanted to kill Willow nor was it only her that wanted to destroy Angelus for what he had done.”

“And the claim?” Clark asked.

Buffy sighed, “It was something that was swirling around my head for a while, and at first it was absolutely a hundred percent my Slayer. But by the time I started seriously considering it, that was definitely all me.”

Clark looked away, “You wanted to bind yourself to him for eternity.”

She was silent at his words; she knew what he was thinking and he was wrong. She remembered very clearly why she wanted to do it. “It…I really did want to win, Clark. I know you’re thinking I must have been head over heels in love, but… I loved Spike, I did and I still do, but not…It was the type of love you hold for your best friend, for the person who gets you more than anyone else. I’m not saying it wasn’t romantic in nature either, but it was a love that formed over time. There was no cupid moment. I knew we were compatible sexually; I knew he would never leave me, and I knew it would make us stronger. Claims, they don’t even require love to be fulfilled, just a mutual respect for one another and I knew we could make it work.”

Clark sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “Why didn’t you then?”

“Fear,” Buffy said simply. “Fear of the unknown, fear that he would say no, and fear that he would say yes.”

She watched Clark swallow. “And you want to do the same to me?”

Buffy blushed. “I-I don’t know. Yes, I think so…” She was silent for a moment. Did she want to claim Clark? Her Slayer seemed to think so, but was that the prophecy or an actual want. She certainly didn’t want to lead him on, so she said “But I think it’s something that could happen in the heat of the moment.” She could literally feel her face heating up even more. “Just, if…if I ever bite you when we…and say ‘Mine’, don’t answer unless you’re willing to do the same.”

“I’m assuming when you say bite, you mean breaking skin.” He said raising an eyebrow.

“I do.” She admitted. “That’s basically what a claim is, it’s a symbolic ritual of sharing one’s life force, blood, saliva, semen. The mixing of your essence with another to create two halves of a whole.”

A slow amused smile broke across his lips. “That actually sounds kind of beautiful, if not a little messy.”

Buffy snorted, her own amusement growing at his analogy. “Anything else you want to know, before we continue our tour?”

His eyes slowly gave her a once over, before he shook his head. “No, I think that was more than enough for today.” He looked down, “It’s hard for me to picture you like that, being cruel I mean. Not when…not when you’ve been so nice to me. I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand anything you told me about him and you, and…and if I’m being honest, I can’t help feeling…” He looked at her seriously, his mouth set in a firm line. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t come back from the dead again, because I can’t promise I will be very nice.”

She found herself giggling at the visual. Dear God, that would be funny, especially with how quiet and reserved Clark was. Spike would drive him up the wall. “Oh, trust me neither will he, even with the soul he had the ability to drive just about anyone mad with rage.”

“Well, then it’s probably a good thing he’s not around anymore. I don’t think I’d like to be responsible for killing someone you cared about.” Clark said seriously.

Buffy rolled her eyes; he might be from another planet but he was definitely a hundred percent male. “Yes, Clark, lucky for you, you only have one of my ex’s left to contend with and he’s married.” She pushed herself away from him, grabbing his hand as she did and pulling him to his feet as she stood. “Now, come on, I’ll show you the training room.”

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ivyuns · 4 years

Text

violation❆♞♣

hwang hyunjin

genre: angst | bit of fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns, blood, death, pregnancy + not proof read oops lol

A/N: lol hyunjin kinda psycho in this

this was drowning in my drafts since may omg

masterlist

mafia!hyunjin x fembarista!reader

y/f/n = ur fiance’s name

you owned your own cafe in downtown seoul. your customers and employees were always great people and bought positivity around you. it was currently a busy day and everyone was in and out of the main entrance. the employees were trying their best to stay calm and keep a positivity mindset. you however, were distracted by the co-owner, hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin always seemed like that flirty but a suspicious type. everyone told you to stay away from him since you were little but how could you when you two were inseparable. it all started in kindergarten.

you were running around the classroom til your teacher yelled out “stop” and everyone looked at her. you saw a little boy. next to the teacher, waiting to be introduced. “hello kids, we have a new student! please introduce youself.” the teacher says.

“hi im sam hwang from korea. please take care of me” he says softly and hides. the teacher tells him theres nothing to be scared of and let him wonder around the classroom. you went up to him and introduced yourself. “hi sam! my name is y/n kwon. i’m also from korea!”. hyunjins head went up and eyes went big. “y-you’re from korea?!” he stuttered since he was lowkey excited that someone in his class was korean, just like him. you smiled and nodded your head. you grabbed his hand and dragged him to the playground to continue recess.

2 years later in summer, your best friend came over with his parents to tell these news. hyunjin came in your room with a sad smile as you were playing with your stuffed animals. you looked up and smiled at him, “hi hyunjin!” you said cheerfully, obviously in a better mood than him. “y/n, i need to tell you something” he said sadly. he went to go sit across of you and picked up some of the toys around your room.

“i’m moving back to korea.” you stopped your actions after hearing what he said. “moving? why?” you looked up at him. “m-my parents said it’s best for us to go back to korea because we only came here for my dad’s work, but he ended up leaving the job and now we’re going to go back” hyunjin looks up to see tears falling out of your eyes. he went to your side and hugged you, telling you that you’ll be spending quality time before he leaves.

after moving back to korea after years hyunjin left you, you opened your own cafe. as your shop was almost completed for the grand opening, hyunjin happened to pass by your shop. he looked through the window and saw a girl that looked so familiar to him.

knocking on the window to get your attention, you go the the door to unlock it and stick your head out of the window. “hyunjin?!” he looks at you with his eyes big. “y/n? what are you doing here?” hyunjin asks. “i recently moved here and now im starting a business” hyunjin nods his head.

“are you looking for any employees?” nodding your head. “yeah but i guess around this area, nobody wants to work at a cafe” you joked. “maybe i can help? i-i mean if you want to” hyunjin laughs. nodding your head, you lead him inside the cafe. hyunjin looks at your artwork and the nicely decorated shop, amazed.

handing a paper that has all the requirements and terms in order to start working here. after hyunjin was done signing it, you looked at the paper and gave him a thumbs up. “looks good! ill give you a call whenever we start” hyunjin nods his head and waves a goodbye to you.as hyunjin exits, he now knows where his target is.

2 hours earlier:

“hwang” chan calls out.

hyunjin looks up from his phone and sees chan carrying files. “remember that girl youd always talk about? kwon y/n? your childhood best friend back in america?” he nods. “apparently her dad is in a gang too and stole our money for whatever reason. so now your mission is to find her, bring her here, and kill her”

hyunjin gulps.‘why? did you do something wrong? what do you have to deal with this? does she know about this?’ all of hyunjins thoughts were about you. “ill do it”he knows he cant do it. but he has to or else he’ll be kicked out of stray kids. after moving back to korea and his parents suddenly passing, he was lonely. until stray kids saved him from being in the dark and invited him to their family. he gladly accepted.

hyunjin goes to his room and does research about you. he finds your instagram and sees that youre opening a cafe around the little area of downtown seoul which was a few hours away from his place. after enough of his little research, he grabs his jacket and heads out to find you.

present time:

the first week of the grand opening was a hassle. the cafe was always packed and made the employees feel stressed. as the cafe was almost settled, you told the workers to take a break as you and hyunjin will do everything else.

finishing an iced americano, you could see from the corner of your eyes and sees hyunjins strange actions. ignoring it, you gave the drink to the correct customer and continued making drinks.

closing time finally happened and everyone left out a huge sigh. having a group meeting, you gave everyone their weekly paycheck. “thank you everyone for working hard. i will see you tomorrow morning!” you waved goodbye and smiled. as soon as you saw almost everyone leave, you turned around and started cleaning.

hyunjin goes next to you and helps you clean the counters and machines. “jin, you know you can leave you know?” you told him as hyunjin lets out a chuckle. “nah its alright. plus as the second ceo, i shall help you” hyunjin winks. stopping your actions, you playfully smack hyunjin across his chest. “hey hey, im just joking. but still, after we finish cleaning, ill take you home” “but you said you have an exam tomorrow? shouldnt you be going home and start studying?” you asked. hyunjin nods his head, defeated. “alright you got me. i promise ill take you home another time” nodding your head, he goes and gets his belongings and leaves.

quickly cleaning the shop, you turn off all the lights and lock all of the doors. turning around to see the whole cafe in one point of view, a smile grew on your face. plugging your earphones in to walk home with your music blasting and texting your family group chat.

y/n: on my way home. the cafe was a success this week :)

mum <3: cheers to a successful opening

dad: come home safely, my son in law is waiting for you

smiling from the excitement, you started walking down the street to get to your house. as you entered this street, it was dark with the moonlight shining. feeling someone following you, you turned around and saw nobody. pulling up hyunjins contact on your phone just in case something happened, you continued walking in a fast pace, turning the volume down.

feeling the same aura from before, you quickly pressed the call button but you heard the familiar ringtone.

“sleep tight princess”

you wake up feeling sore and lost of warmth. opening your eyes, youre in a room thats filled with drywalls and a hwang hyunjin to your left, sitting on a chair. “h-hyunjin?” you called out his name. he looks up from your phone after reading every conversation you had that was about him. “the princess has finally awoken from her slumber” hyunjin smirks.

hyunjin gets off of the chair and goes by your side, lifting your chin up. trying to protest only to be stopped as you felt your limbs tied up. “now now princess, no need to get feisty” hyunjin laughs. “what the fuck do you want hyunjin” “hmm? you really dont know?” shaking your head, hyunjin gets up and walks around the room.

“so, youre saying you dont know what your dad has been doing? the fact that he stole money from me just to help you other with the small disgusting shop of yours?” it hurt. both you and hyunjin. hyunjin wanted to give his mission up and hug you, wipe your tears away and apologize. you were more than hurt. more like angry. hyunjin knew you wanted a cafe when you grew up and he supported you more than anything.

“the fuck are you talking about? youre assuming that my dad stole money from you? from what information is getting in that head of yours?” you shouted out. hyunjin grabs his gun and clicks it. you hear the click and your attention is immediately on hyunjin. “h-hyunjin whatever youre wanting to do, put the gun down first” hyunjin closes his eyes as he feels fresh tears escaping and shakes his head.

“hwang hyunjin! do you not know what youre about to do? tell me what you want from us. we’ll give you your money back- anything just dont pull it-” you stopped talking as soon as you see him point the gun at you. “please hyunjin dont. im pregnant-”

he pulled the trigger.

everyone in the house heard the gun go off and goes to the basement. stopping as they heard hyunjins sobs, they see him on his knees, holding your bloody body and cries into your hair.

chan goes to hyunjin and pats him on the back. “you finally did it hwang”

as hyunjin takes his seat during your funeral, he sees your family and y/f/n go up the stage. after each family member said what they had to say about you and your death, as well as your unborn baby, everybody was now crying their eyes out. “my sunshine. thank you for everyone you love feel happy and we are deeply happy that you were able to start your own business. with the past events, i shouldve came by and picked you up from work before i lost both you and our child. without your presence, nothing will bring a smile onto my face. i love you so much kwon y/n, and i hope you fly high with our baby girl”

lowering your casket down, everyone leaned on each other, crying after they realized the kwon y/n has suddenly passed for an unknown reason at a young age. hyunjin just leaned on a pole and cried. looking up in the sky, he see something that had a little smile form on his face.

‘you’ll be next, hwang’

hyunjin gets into reality and turns around to see who whispered to him. seeing nobody, hyunjins future is now crumbling.

END <3

tf is the end 🥴

#stray kids hyunjin #stray kids angst #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin angst #skz angst #stray kids #jyp skz #jyp stray kids #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #kpop angst #kpop #angst #fluff #amoreskz

53 notes · View notes

pixie88 · 3 years

Text

Making Amends

Chapter 18 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I’m going to try and start editing and publishing 2 chapters a week (Next will be out Thursday as we are away this weekend for my LO’s birthday) as I have 6 drafts in ATB and 3 drafts in Addicted to You (Series 2 of ATB) Obviously if you wish to stop reading after series 1 I completely understand just let me know if you like to be untagged. Now offence taken. I hope you like it.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Little Angst.

Word Count: 2608

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

Laila just sat and listened to Zeppy for over an hour "Do you want my honest opinion?" Laila stokes her hair, she nods "I think you need to put yourself first, not your Mum, Dad or even Jade....You! If that means cutting Vicky out of your life then so be it"

She sits up "But Mum...Jade says you should forgive people's mistakes!" Laila hands her a tissue from her dresser "But you can only give someone so many chance. I get she is your Mum, but sometimes we give family more chances than we do anyone else and they expect it" Zeppy sighs knowing Laila is right.

There's a light knock on the bedroom door, Nate pokes his head in "Everything OK?" he asks, Zeppy smiles then looks at Laila "Yeah, Auntie Leia gave me some advice" Laila gets up "Why do you tell your Dad about it? I'm going to head home. If you need me just give me a call" Zeppy nods as Nate walks further into the bedroom "Thanks!" Nate smiles at her.

She says her goodbyes and makes her way home.

~*~*~*~

A few days later Laila is at work, she has clients back to back. Daniel just sends each one through, she's cleaning her hair clippers when the next client comes over and takes a seat. "Hey, I'll be with you in a minute," she throws over her shoulder not even looking at her client "OK, take all the time you need" he says in a cheery tone.

She knew that voice, they hadn't spoken since the incident in his flat, she turned "Rem? What are you doing here?" he offers her a regretful smile, "I know I had an appointment tomorrow after you finished work, but I didn't think you would turn up, so I rang up the salon booked myself in for today. Plus, I wanted to apologies for how I acted the other day, I was out of line...way out of line! I hope you'll accept my apology and if you feel the need to you can take it out on my hair I will happily accept if it means you will forgive me!"

Laila laughs at him as she throws the gown over him and wrapping her arms around him "Look, I understand you were upset, so there's nothing to forgive!" he smiles up at her in the mirror "Thank god!! I've hated not having you to speak to...You know its hard to get advice when the person you always go to for advice is the one you need advice for! Alec put me in my place soon after you left!"

She laughs, "Rem!! I don't want to know what you get up to!" she jokes making him chuckle. She feels like a weight has been lifted, she has her best friend back. She curious to know what he's going to do about Melissa, but she's too scared to ask because she doesn't want to upset him. "I can see your mind ticking over, I've known you too long to know when your thinking about something"

"Rem...." he smiles, but rolls his eyes, "You want to know what I'm going to do about my mot..I mean Melissa!" he raises a brow at her "I'll meet her, but just once to see what she wants and that's it! Can I ask you something?" she nods at him "Do you think she's serious?" she lets out a breath "She said her friend suddenly died and it made her realise, if that was her...her kids wouldn't be at her funeral. I think she wants just wants a chance. She seemed upset she didn't know you had gotten married. It's weird after I left yours the other day I went to Nate's and while I was there I was trying to convince Zeppy to stop giving Vicky anymore chances"

"Oh? What's happened with Vicky?" Laila shook her head "What's always up with her!"

"Oh, poor Zeppy! Why won't Vicky learn?! She won't stick around if she's on the gear again!" Laila starts trimming his hair "I know, but they say addiction is an illness" Rem's shook her head "We can only hope Zeppy has taken your advice and it makes Vicky realise what she could lose" Laila nod "Hmm..can only hope"

Later that evening.

Laila is putting the finishing touches to her makeup when her buzzer rings. She knew it was Harry, so she buzzes him up and leaves the front door open and runs back to the bedroom to finish up. "Gorgeous?" he calls out "In the bedroom" she calls back.

He pokes his head through the doorway "Are you ready?" he smiles at her "I think so. Do I look OK?" she is wearing a khaki cut off sleeved shirt dress which wasn't long enough to wear without bottoms, so she picked a pair of black trousers and gold and black wedge sandals. "You look perfect," she was nervous he could tell especially considering the last time she had seen Colin and Rose she had called him a miserable old git.

They had made a mends after that, but she still felt incredibly nervous, but this belated birthday meal was Colin's idea. She looks over herself in the mirror one last time, Harry steps behind her, his arm wrapping around her waist and kisses her bare shoulder "No need to be nervous! He knows not to say anything out of line again, but if he does believe me...I won't stand for it" she smiles at his reflection in the mirror before turning in his arms.

"Oh, guess who came into the salon today?!" he knew who by her smile, but he wanted to tease her "Antony Joshua?" she laughs, "No! Rem!" she's beaming "I take it you two have made up then?"

"Yep, all made up!" he kisses the top of her head "Thank god for that," he chuckles "Ready to go?" he asks her "I think so!" he takes her hand and they make their way to the restaurant in Harry's car.

When they get to the restaurant Colin and Rose are already there as they approach the table Laila takes a deep breath "Laila, Harry" Rose gets up from her seat hugging them both "Hi Rose.." "Mum, little too tight!" Harry jokes as she lets go and they all take their seat "Dad" Harry nods at Colin "Colin, Hi!" she smiles "You alright?" he asks them both. "Yeah, thanks, you?" Laila asks her nerves are still going a hundred miles per hour.

"Great! Thanks! How was your birthday? Oh, and Happy belated Birthday!" he says. Laila's thrown he is completely different from the last time they saw him "Happy birthday!" Rose says as she passes over an envelope "Thanks, yeah it was great thanks! Better than I could've imagined" she's cut off by Rose "What did Harry get you?"

Laila's hand automatically goes to her locket, Rose leans over to take a closer look, "Can I open it?" she asks "Yeah, of course" Rose flips it open and coos at the picture "Aww, that is an adorable photo of you both!" Colin leans over to have a look "It's a good one" he comments.

They both sit down "Open your card!" Rose tells her. Opening the envelope and folded up bit of paper falls out, inside it reads:

To Lovely Laila,

Happy Birthday!

We hope you had a great day!

Love Rose & Colin x

P.S. We didn't know what to get you, so we thought this might be nice for you both to enjoy. x

Opening the folded paper its a photo of an old cottage, she looks up at Rose and Colin confused, Harry, take the paper from her to take a closer look, "What's this?" Harry asks his parents "So we didn't know what to get you, so we thought maybe you to might like a free week away in our little cottage in the Cotswold's. Obviously you two can chose any week you want just let us know a few weeks ahead! Harry, don't go telling your brothers or sister!"

"Why?" he chuckles "Because they will all want a week there and I don't trust they won't trash the place" Colin shook his head "I promise we won't trash the place and thank you that's so thoughtful!" the waiter comes over to take their drinks order, Harry leans in close enough so only she can hear "Can't say the same about the bed" he whispers making her blush.

After the starter Rose and Colin are telling them all about their time away in Rome "You have to take Laila there one day!" Rose tells her son. "It's beautiful! Laila, I keep meaning to ask do you cut men's hair?" Colin surprisingly asks her "Yeah, I do"

"She's my hairdresser now" Harry winks at her "Great, do you think you could fit me in?" Colin looks over to her "Erm..yeah, sure when are you free?" She's not sure if this is a joke or not but Colin has done a 360 since the last time. "Weekends probably work out better for me"

She smiles "I work every other Saturday in the salon, but I can come to you if it's easier?" She asks him nervously "3 weeks from now work? At our house?" Laila pulls out her phone that's Saturday is her weekend off "Perfect, any time preference?"

He checks his phone "Shall we say 11 AM then we'll do lunch?" Laila can't quite believe he's asking her to do his hair "Yeah, that would be great!" she's still taken aback by it. Maybe this is him trying to build bridges? She thought.

"Laila?" she hears someone call out from behind him as she looks up, it's Lou, she smiles and gets up to greet her "Lou, how are you?" she asks as she hugs her. Laila's happy that they're at this point.. 6 months ago, Laila could never imagine even looking in Lou's direction, let alone hugging her "Sorry, Louise, this is Rose and Colin, Rose and Colin this is Louise and obviously you've met Harry, they're his parents"

"Oh how lovely to meet you!" Louise smiles "And you!" Rose says as Colin just smiles at her "Laila, you wouldn't mind coming over to our table and saying hello to Steve would you? He'd love to see you!"

"Oh..erm OK!" she looks at Harry "I'll be 2 minutes!" he winks back at her. She felt a bit nervous she hadn't seen Steve in years because she thought it was best to stay away after everything happened considering she might have just let it slip to him out of anger, but now was different she understood why Lou did what she did it. Which was all thanks to Harry, in some ways she had changed for the better because of him, he had made her more forgiving.

Now, instead of blaming her, she gratefully Josh's last day's weren't his worst days. She had seen how cancer can change someone with her Grandad Carelli, he went from running every day with his granddaughter to being to weak too lift a fork.

As they approach the table Steve looks up noticing Laila his face lights up "Laila! Oh wow! It's so good to see you!!" he beams at her.

She smiles back at him.

Back at their table.

Colin looks to where Laila is "Who is this Louise to Laila?" Rose looks over to Harry. He knew what he could and couldn't say, "She's Laila's ex fiancé's Mum" Colin looks shocked "And she's gone over to see him?!" Harry could see his Dad disapproval "No! Steve is his Dad" Rose doesn't know what to say "You're OK with her being friendly with her ex's parents?" Colin almost hisses.

"Yes, I am! Because quite frankly, being jealous of a ghost is a bit ridiculous!" Harry could see the confusion on their face "Laila, ex fiancé died of cancer," he knew he couldn't say anymore than that "Oh god! That poor girl!" Rose is shocked, Colin is speechless "Now can you see why I'm more than happy for her to be friendly with her ex's parents? Even if he was a living ex I would be fine with it because I trust Laila!"

"I can see why...she is a lovely girl" Harry has never heard his Dad say anything like that about any of his girlfriends, but he just put that down to Laila being able to win anyone over because that was the kinda girl she is.

At Lou and Steve's table.

"You know we all missed you after the funeral. You just kinda disappeared" Steve's words make her drown in guilt "Hey! It was hard for all of us Steve, you have to remember she lost someone she was going to marry. We were probably a constant reminder of what she had lost" Louise tries to make excuses for Laila. She's thankful for this "I guess Lou is right! Sorry Laila!"

"You have nothing to be sorry for Steve....honestly, it's like Lou said and to be honest, I needed to grieve by myself," she smiles at him "How are you nowadays?"

"I'm good actually....I'm here with my boy....my boyfriend and his parents," she hated telling him this, but she was already keeping something from him plus surely he didn't expect her never to find anyone after Josh. "Aww, that's sweet! How long have you 2 been together?" he seemed happy for her which was a relief to her "I asked him to be my boyfriend over 2 months ago now" Steve howls "Why doesn't that surprise me! Josh always said if you wanted something you would go out and get it"

She laughs, "He is the first relationship I've had since Josh to be fair!" Lou coos "Does he make you happy?" Lou asks her "You know what he makes me incredibly happy actually," she looks over to Harry, his eyes catch hers and he throws her a wink making her blush. "I'm happy for you! You deserve to be happy...that's all Josh would have wanted for you!" Lou offers her a soft smile.

"Speaking of my boyfriend, I better get back to him! It was lovely seeing you both," she says as she gets up both Steve and Lou hug her.

She makes her way back to Harry and his parents, "Here she is!" Harry smiles and wraps an arm over her shoulder as she sits. The rest of the meal is relaxed and easy.

After they say their goodbyes to his parents, they make their way back to Laila's flat.

When they arrive the front door has been kicked in, worried someone might still be inside Harry tells Laila to call the police and he heads inside. Laila grabs his arm "Harry..."

"Laila, I'll be fine! I just want to check they're not still in there," he pushes the door open and makes his way inside.. he first checks the kitchen, when he hears someone behind him. He spins round, it's Laila holding her handbag like she's about to whack someone "Laila! Go and wait outside!" he whispers "What? and leave you to get attacked? No! Plus I have my bag! Never underestimate a women's handbag!"

"Fine! Just stay close!" he knew there was no point in arguing with her, so he continues to check all the rooms. Each have been ransacked, when they got to the living room on the wall in red spray paint were Cut her out of your life..

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 19.

@ridgy--didge @lem-20 @secretaryunpaid @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @tea-me-kah @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @casualpostqueen @beautifuluknownvoid

#atb #always the bridesmaid #harry x laila #pixie #@pixie 88 original #Original Work #original writing #original character #original story

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babyybitchhh · 3 years

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Announcement

Alrighty, then. This post has been a long time coming so lets get right into it.

After much deliberation, I've decided not to push the self destruct button. I thought about it. Oh, when I say I was SO damn close to deleting this entire blog and all my fics right along with it. I'm frustrated and angry with myself, and I can't exactly say I'm doing well atm, but I know when things start to get better I'll want to write again, in earnest, and then I'd have to start over from scratch. Egg all over my face. Clown shit. We don't know her.

BUT. I think its clear to any and all that this is not working. It's just not. I expect too much of myself, for starters. And when it feels like others expect a certain level of performance from me that I just can't nail consistently due to my own ineptitude, my brain powers off. Is it some kind of executive dysfunction? Is it a fear of failing? A fear of success? Plain old anxiety? Who knows! I certainly don't. Whatever it is, it's hanging over my head like a guillotine. I'm beyond stressed and barely staying afloat irl, but then when I turn towards what should be a fun and therapeutic outlet all I see are expectations.

"When will you post the next chapter" on works that I WANT to finish but yet fear putting out a subpar product for and disappointing people.

"Will you write a follow up piece" for works that I WANT to expand on but don't know how to in a way that will make everyone else happy, let alone myself.

"Are you working on my request" for WIPs I have partially drafted and yet no way of knowing if that person - or anyone! - will even enjoy it.

I honestly feel guilty working on my own ideas instead of the multiple prompts in my inbox. I'm pretty sure that's part of my malfunction with my Ogun fic and others like it that are close to being done but remain unfinished simply because I'm thinking about what everyone else wants. It'd be one thing if I could just churn out content without a second thought but I can't. Like, it genuinely upsets me thinking that people are stuck in limbo waiting because I'm too chicken shit to just go with the flow instead of obsessing over every single line of text to the point of nausea, all for the sake of putting out "quality" content. I feel bad. I want to enjoy the writing process again, just like I did when I first got back into it with OsoSan. I shouldn't have started taking requests if I wasn't going to deliver, I know, and I sincerely apologize for my lack of foresight but it is what it is. I can't change the past. But what I CAN do is start fresh. So, long story short, there are going to be some changes coming to this blog.

A total revamp. I'm going to do an overhaul on the whole thing so don't be surprised when it starts to look different. I'm going to work primarily on navigation and organization, and try to tidy up a bit.

I'm turning off anon. Both because people looking to have a go with writers aren't so brave when that's no longer an option and also because I want to get as far away from those expectations as possible. I wont be reading or responding to comments on AO3 anymore for that same reason. I love you guys, and you're more than welcome to talk to me in DM's if you're more comfortable that way, but the long list of asks wanting to know wtf I'm doing in my spare time if not writing this or that is doing more harm than good.

I'm getting rid of the requests page and also purging any that I haven't already started working on - hopefully once I get into a better groove I'll actually be able to finish them, because I genuinely would like to. I really am sorry to everyone who's been waiting for their request to be fulfilled but I'm clearly not talented or confident enough to juggle my own ideas with someone else's. Maybe at some point in the future, when I'm a better writer, I'll start taking them again and we can all be happy.

And finally, I'm going to start experimenting with my writing method. As in, you're probably going to see shorter, less obsessively curated pieces popping up on my page that may not always be sexual in nature. I just really need to buckle down and work on this - all of it - and I'm determined to improve my skills even if it kills me. I have the urge to write every single day but it's hard when I'm the way I am and I've backed myself into a corner like this. I need to learn how to stop overthinking everything and just DO it. I know my productivity would increase and, with it, so would the overall quality of my work so I'm going to be focusing on different areas that need improvement. Not everything I put out will be good but that's part of the process, right? Right.

I totally understand if I lose followers for any of the above reasons, or even just personal ones, so don't hesitate to do so if you feel like you can't jive with this blog anymore. I appreciate you taking the time to read all this and I hope you understand my reasons for needing to do a reset on this page. This is exactly why I didn't want to start taking commissions and I would once again like to apologize to anyone I've let down.

P.S. I've had this distinct feeling that certain people in the writing community are not happy with me for a while now and although I'm not entirely sure what I've done wrong, I would still like to issue a formal apology for any toes I might have stepped on. That was never my intention. I can't claim to be a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I have no ill will towards anyone. If its about the patreon I subscribed to and then left a month later, it had nothing to do with the author in question. I just belatedly realized I had more money coming out of my account than I could handle at the time and yes that weighs heavy on my shoulders. If its about the way I suddenly disappear in private chats, that's also something that shouldn't be taken personally. I genuinely have a hard time keeping up conversations with people, and I feel like a bother more often than not. If it's about the discords I join and then never participate in, see the above. If its about the way I fangirl or enthusiastically support some writers but not others, I never meant any harm by it. I just can't conceivably read everything that comes across my dash and, yes, my favorites are prioritized. Either way, whatever the grievances may be, anon will remain on until I start the revamp process some time tomorrow night so if whoever wants to air out their problems go for it. I probably wont post them but I will read them and try to learn from them, so have at it.

#small text so as to not take up so much room on people's dashes #personal #dumb bitch shit #I've already added a carrd to my bio so its easier to locate my age and such #I'd like to do a bit more with it but its late so : /#anyway I hope everyone's having a fine evening

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years

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Sonata-First Movement

The dear @omgalyssag17 asked: hi i saw you have your requests open and was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a story where yoongi moves into a haunted apartment/house (human!yoongi x ghost!reader pairing). i like giving authors lots of room for creativity so let your imagination flow. And I did. So much so that the story will be told in three parts over the next three weeks XD I LOVED THIS PROMPT SO MUCH Series Summary: Yoongi travels to a lake house to get some work done in peace. While he is there he has several strange encounters that make him question his own sanity. AN: Y/N as a ghost is slightly neurotic at times because she hasn’t really had conversations with people in about ten years. She’s trying so hard to be a good hostess XD Series contains angst, humor (well I think so), and fluff. WK:5kish Day 1

Yoongi parked his car at the end of the gravel driveway. The drive up to the Lakehouse had been pleasantly uneventful. It was starting to get foggy though, so he was glad he had left Seoul when he did. He reached into his front pocket for the set of rental keys. They were neatly labeled: cabin, boathouse, boat.

The wooden front door opened easily although it creaked loudly. He decided to take a look around before bringing in his luggage and equipment. He was on a rare break from work. While the other members had gone traveling or home to spend time with their families, Yoongi had decided to get some work done. But he would do it away from the city. He told the Agency to find him somewhere nice and quiet. And with a piano. That last part proved to be more of a challenge, but they had discovered this remote cabin which had belonged to a pianist. The property had been listed as “for sale” for several years and the family decided instead to rent it out to at least recoup some money.

The air smelled slightly stale so he left the front door open and began to explore the property. It was a small 2 bedroom cottage-style lake house with large windows running along the back of the living room. The sliding glass door led out to a small deck, overlooking the lake. It was beautiful. Or at least it could be. Yoongi looked through the glass and could barely make out the lake that he knew should be there. The layer of fog was rolling in against an already grey sky, causing the horizon between the water and air to blend together into a monochrome greyscape.

There was a small kitchenette in the corner of the main room, and on the opposite side, a piano with a desk sat next to it. Perfect. A fireplace adorned another one of the walls, providing both a heat source and a beautiful focal point.

He continued to walk through the house, discovering the bathroom and two bedrooms. The larger of the two also had large windows and a sliding glass door. Yoongi shook his bangs out his face and stepped out onto the wooden deck. The deck was small and surrounded on most sides by built-in benches. There were also several empty wooden planters. Whoever had lived here must have enjoyed flowers or herbs, he mused to himself. He gazed out towards the lake where he was able to barely make out the boathouse. In addition to the stored motorboat, there was a kayak stacked against the boathouse and a rowboat tethered to the dock. Good, he thought. He doubted he would use the motorboat at all on this trip, so it was nice to have options. The steps down to the dock were made up of several twisty flights of stairs. He decided he would check out the dock tomorrow.

Yoongi went back through the house to get his equipment set up. When he came back, he discovered the front door had shut. Dammit, he thought and sat down with his armful of equipment, squeaking the front door open again. He placed his laptop and speakers down on the desk. Now to get his luggage and food bags. He knew there would be no delivery service out here. Hell, he’d be lucky to get cell service out this far. Which is one of the reasons he had decided to work out in the country. He knew he wouldn’t be distracted by his phone or by the members messaging him. It would truly be a break from everyone and everything. He grabbed his suitcase and used it to prop the door open and then took several trips out to the car to unload the bags of food he had bought on the way up.

Yoongi began to hum to himself while unpacking the food. Cold in the refrigerator, room temperature in the cabinets. He was a very neat person and was very satisfied when all of the groceries had been put in their place. He went back to get his suitcase from its place by the door. Yoongi scratched his head. His suitcase had been by the door, hadn’t it? Maybe he had wheeled it into the kitchen without thinking. He walked back over and looked around quickly, still not seeing it. Ok. Maybe he hadn’t brought it in from the car and just thought he had. He knew in the back of his mind that he had to have brought it in, because he was using it to hold the door open. Maybe it was on the front porch? He turned the corner and saw the suitcase sitting by the front door. He jumped a little bit and shook his head. Maybe he was more sleep deprived than usual and it was making him dumb. “What the hell?” he said out loud. He walked over and firmly grabbed the suitcase as though he was afraid it was going to wander off.

He turned on the light in the master bedroom and put away all of the clothes, storing the suitcase under the bed. Now, he could finally get some work done. After coffee. Coffee was an important step.

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

You sat over at the desk, observing the newest cottage guest. The delightful scent of coffee wafted through the air. There were several things you missed about being alive, and one of them was a nice, hot cup of coffee. Especially out on the back deck, first thing in the morning. You often wondered if you were actually stuck in hell; able to smell coffee and not drink it. You were able to see every person who trespassed in your house, but none of them could see you.

At least it looked like this guy would be a considerate guest. Too often it would be loud families with their ill-behaved children banging on your beloved piano. Sometimes it would be drunk fishermen. At least they could be entertaining. And they were also your favorite to mess with; they were never sure if there was a ghost or if they were drunk. Hilarious. Death had very few benefits but that was one of them.

You watched him pour himself a cup of coffee. Now that you noticed, it was very late to be starting a pot of coffee. He must be a night owl. You got up so he wouldn't sit on you. It always felt so weird when the living touched you; their solid body parts passing through your non-corporeal form. It didn't hurt but it made your body feel like it was being stretched in ways that it shouldn't be able to.

He sat the cup down and started to unpack what looked like headphones, a microphone, and some other things that you knew had to do with recording music. Oooo interesting, you thought. He was a very meticulous person. You had noticed the care he had taken into putting everything in its place even though you could tell he was eager to begin the task at hand. He plugged in the electronics and began to press some buttons. He put on his headphones and began vibin to some beats.

You frowned. You wanted to hear the music too. You reached over and gently flipped the bluetooth switch on his headphones off.

Yoongi stopped and took off his headphones. He looked at them with a concerned expression. That was so strange. He had charged them all last night. It didn’t even occur to him to check the manual power switch; there was no reason to. He frowned and placed the headphones on the desk. He dug the charger out of his bag and crawled down on the floor to plug it in.

You smiled as you watched him try to turn himself tiny. It was pretty cute. He slowly backed out of the space under the desk, and while still on his knees, pressed play. The lakehouse was filled with music. You felt the space in the middle of your body, where you once had a beating heart, relax. You hadn’t heard music in forever. You would occasionally play the piano, but most of the time it just made you too sad.

Yoongi took out his notebook and began flipping through it, trying to find the page he had been working on. You spied over his shoulder, trying to see what his project was. Notes? Lyrics? Ouch. You felt his hand go through your face as he raised his arm to run his fingers through his hair. Ok, ouch wasn’t the right expression, but it had surprised you nonetheless. He continued to fluff his hair several times. It was very fluffy, now that you noticed it. You wanted to touch it. You really tried to not be a creepy ghost. But you hadn’t had visitors in so long. And it looked so soft. You let yourself pet his dark, black hair.

Yoongi froze and looked behind him. His nose scrunched up as he turned his neck and looked above him, searching for the draft that had just blown his hair. Seeing nothing, he continued on with his work.

His hair was soft. You knew it would be. Alright, you decided, enough of being creepy. He seemed nice enough. You traveled over to the living room and laid down on the couch. Being dead was so boring.

Yoongi continued working and drinking coffee for several hours before deciding around 4 am to go to bed. This was a poor decision because there were no curtains in the lake house, and the sun came in at 7 am. He groaned and pulled a sheet over his face.

You laughed as you saw him wrestle with the too small sheet. He would pull it up, his feet would become uncovered. He would pull it down, and a sunbeam would fall directly onto his face. Poor guy. The next time he pulled the blanket up, you gently tucked the comforter over his feet. He didn’t even notice, he just let out a satisfied groaning sound as he rustled around trying to get comfortable. Finally, he was able to fall back to sleep.

Day 2

Yoongi woke up around noon. He scolded himself for not thinking of bringing an eye mask along. He was used to sleeping at strange hours, in a state of permanent jet lag, so he usually remembered to pack it. Oh well. He groggily shufflled to the kitchen and grabbed an iced coffee. The lake was beautiful this morning. The sun was shining and reflecting against the water. He decided to wash up and head down to the dock.

You watched him down the iced coffee like it was a lifeline. Did this guy know that drinking-water also existed? You wondered as you followed him around. You watched him look out over the lake while drinking the coffee. The corners of his mouth upturned as he looked out over the water. With a determined look on his face he went over towards the bathroom leaving you to hang out in the living room. You walked over to the desk area where he had left his stuff out. You decided to look through his notebook and found several pages of lyrics. He was really good, you thought as you flipped through. You took your time reading some of the pages and notes. You also saw some compositions written down as well.

Yoongi walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel and sopping wet hair. Since he was the only one there he hadn’t bothered to take his clothes into the bathroom with him. He walked out into the living room and saw his notebook jump off the desk. That’s weird. He thought as he walked over to pick it up and put it back on the desk. He ran a hand along the back of it to see if it felt extra slippery. No. He did the same to the desk. Weird.

You were trying to NOT be a creepy ghost and yet here was a hot guy wearing a towel in your living room. You looked around, where to go, where to go? You couldn’t go to the master bedroom, that’s where he would go next. You saw him bend over to pick up the notebook. If you had blood left in your body, you are certain it would all be rushing to your face right now. Must leave. You hastily made your way to the guest bedroom, carefully opening the door and stepping inside. You took a few deep breaths out of habit.

Yoongi sat the notebook down on the desk and heard a creaking sound coming from the other side of the cabin. The drafts in here were unbelievable, he thought and he headed to the bedroom to get dressed.

You kept yourself in forced isolation until you heard the sliding door of the living room open up. You peeked out the window and saw him making his way down to the dock. Finally, you thought, as you went back into the living room. Ever since you had heard the music last night you had been wanting to give it a go on the piano. You looked down at the dock to make sure he had made it before you took a seat at the bench and began to play,

Yoongi felt the sun shine down on his dark hair. He usually blow dried it, but between the hot sun and being on vacation, he figured he would let nature take care of it today. He sat down cross legged on the dock, looking out across the Lake. He could see a few other houses lining the perimeter and several patches of trees. The water lightly rippled, splashing gently against the rowboat. He looked over the side of the dock. It was shallow and he could see minnows swimming in the water that had been warmed by the sun. He smiled and took in a deep breath of the fresh air. He took out his pen and began to write.

You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed playing the piano. It had been probably about 6 months before you died. If you had to guess. Time is a funny thing. It speeds up as you get older. And once you’re dead, it’s like the blink of an eye. It wasn’t enough time. You sighed sadly. But, playing this music made you happy. It made you so happy that you had lost track of time until you heard the unmistakable sound of the glass door sliding open. You were pretty sure you were able to stop in time. You made a cringe face and turned to the door to see if your guest had noticed.

Yoongi stood extremely still. He had definitely heard the piano playing. Only for a second or two. But the sound was unmistakable. Maybe a mouse was in the dampers. He cleared his throat and walked over to the upright Yamaha. You stayed absolutely still as he reached over you, his face inches away. You didn’t have to hold your breath, you didn’t even breathe anymore, but you found yourself nervously worried about it. He smelled good. Stop being creepy! Yoongi opened the lid quickly, hoping to catch the mouse in action. No mouse. Strange, he thought, and closed the lid. He stepped back and eyed the piano suspiciously. Wait a minute. He looked at the sides and then he opened the lid once more. “Hmm? What’s this?” he reached in and took out a yellow, legal-sized envelope

You had forgotten about that.

He held the large envelope in his hands, inspecting it. He turned it around. There was nothing written on the outside but he could feel the contents inside of it. He bit his lip, unsure of what to do with this. He sat it down on the desk and headed to the kitchen to eat lunch.

You tentatively pressed your fingers against the envelope. You were surprised no one had found it yet. You were certain your family would have quickly sold the house, so you had placed the document somewhere safe. But no one had come to buy the house. Maybe because you had scared them away. The first few years of your haunting you hadn’t been quite as kind of a ghost. Time had mellowed you and allowed you to come to terms with your death. You looked over at the man who was starting to shake ramyeon packets and boil water. You gently tore the corner open and waited a minute to see if his curiosity would get the better of him.

Yoongi walked back over to the desk while he waited for the water to boil. Now that he looked harder he saw that the envelope had been opened ever so slightly. He felt a little odd, but decided to go ahead and open it. He carefully slid the contents out onto the desk. He saw a picture, sheet music, and a letter. He picked up the photo first. It was a picture of a young woman who looked to be about his age, sitting out on the back porch, petting a large yellow dog. She was looking off at the lake smiling and it appeared she hadn’t known someone was taking her picture. Yoongi looked out, holding the photo up in between himself and the window. He matched up the benches and planters perfectly. It was definitely taken here. The next thing he picked up was the sheet music. It was untitled and about 20 bars of music filled the sheet. He placed the music on the piano’s stand. He picked up the letter and began to read.

“I don’t think I’m going to have enough time to finish this composition. I really like it and I would love to hear it completed. I sit down every day and try to but the headaches are getting worse and it’s hard to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. I wish I had more time. But I suppose that’s to be expected, isn’t it? I thought there would be more time. I can only hope someone takes Barley and gives him a good home. Dogs don’t know about death right? Animals fear pain, not death. I fear both even though each gets worse and closer every day. As for the piano, I just hope it goes somewhere where it will actually get played by someone who loves it. I’m hoping my family finds this, but if you find yourself reading some random dying girl’s letter, please let my family know I tried to hold on for as long as possible. And I really tried hard to finish this. I just can’t anymore. Thanks for reading this. Whoever you are. Have a great day and remember: life is short. [y/n].”

Yoongi felt tears running down his face as he finished the letter. Jesus. Had this belonged to the girl who lived here before? He looked at the picture of the girl and the dog and flipped it over. “Me and Barley May 2010 BEST DOG EVER.” Yoongi gently placed the letter and photo on the corner of the desk and ran a hand along his chin and then his cheeks, wiping the tears quickly with the back of his hand.

You watched as he cried and felt bad. You had written that letter probably a week before you died. Maybe a month? It was hard to tell. Time passed differently when you were dead. And the last few days, weeks(?) of your life had not been easy on your body or mind. All you remembered was the instant feeling of calm and peace. At first. Until you realized for some reason you were trapped in the lake house. You watched him sit down quietly and look at your composition and put his fingers onto the keys.

He began to play. At first it was so soft you could barely hear it, but as he continued to play it got louder. You remembered the song so well. You were slightly biased, but you thought it was, “Beautiful.” you heard him say as he came to the end of the song. He sat like that for another few seconds and then played it again from the start. He picked up the music sheet and sat it down on the desk. He got up and moved over to the desk chair, taking out his. He started to copy the notes onto his notebook and then started to add notes to it.

Was he going to finish your song? You sat in awe as you watched him play with the chords and rhythm to try and figure out what would work best with what you had already composed. You sat down on the piano bench and watched his face as he concentrated on how to approach the music. The timer went off in the kitchen and Yoongi got up to assemble the noodles. He brought the hot bowl and chopsticks back with him, careful to not sit it on the desk. He read the letter again.

“Well, I’ll try to finish it for you,” he said. “But I don’t know if it will be what you would have picked.

You gave him a sad smile. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken to you. “That’s ok.”

Yoongi looked over towards the piano. He kept feeling something. Something randomly around him. And this time he had sworn he heard something as well. “I need to stop talking to myself, I’m starting to imagine answers.” He said, taking several more bites of noodles. You just laughed. A small tinkling sound. Yoongi got up and went over to the back porch to look for windchimes or something. Having found none, he shook his head and sighed. He quickly finished up his lunch and sat down next to you on the piano bench. He reached over for the sheet music, and then very delicately placed your picture next to it.

“Alright [y/n] let’s finish writing this composition.” he said as he gently placed his fingers on the keys. He played the song again, this time adding a few of the notes he had added. He was satisfied with a few of them but others he scratched out with his pen. He began again and again, trying to work through the bridge. You understood his frustration. This was the part you had gotten stuck on as well. You liked the few notes that he had successfully added. Suddenly, without thinking, you thought of what would sound good next and played a series of notes.

Yoongi sat there not moving. The keys to his left had definitely just played by themselves. And not random keys like a mouse on the dampers. They were notes that matched the song perfectly. What the hell.

You froze. Shit shit shit. You were going to scare this guy off. The only person who had actually spoken to you in a decade. You felt like you wanted to cry. Dammit [y/n] you scolded yourself. Yoongi was afraid to turn to his left. He knew it was silly. There wouldn’t be anything there, other than that feeling he kept getting in the house. He was going to make himself do it though. He very slowly turned his head and looked at you. At least, it seemed like he was looking at you. But from his perspective, he just saw the windows of the lake house. He let out a deep breath. “Here I am, afraid of ghosts.” He said out loud. “Well, if there is a ghost here, thanks. Those notes work well,” he said as he wrote down the keys you had pressed and then played them himself. The two of you stayed like that for about another hour before Yoongi decided he was going to work on another project. You decided to go out on the back porch and give him some privacy.

The rest of the evening Yoongi didn’t feel anymore of that warm buzzing sensation he had felt since his arrival. You had stayed on the back porch until it became dark to give him a break. You were so afraid earlier that you were going to scare him off. Usually you couldn’t wait for the guests to leave because they were annoying, but you wanted him to stay. He was nice and quiet, and cute, and working on your song, and cute. And oh my goodness, you thought listening to yourself. You had a crush on this guy. Ugh. You didn’t even know ghosts could get crushes. You sighed, once again bemoaning the fact that being dead was standing in your way. You didn’t get the chance to date much when you were alive. You went straight from University to writing music up at the lake. You thought your love life could wait until you had established your career more. Just another thing you had been wrong about. You sighed as you re-entered the cottage and saw Yoongi still sitting at his computer jamming away with his headphones on. Did he ever stop working?

Yoongi had worked on several projects that afternoon and was feeling very satisfied with the progress he had made. The earlier piano incident left him feeling a little skittish, especially now that it was dark outside. He wasn’t easily frightened, but as he thought back to the past two days, several incidents were very strange. He didn’t believe in ghosts. He told himself. Over and over again. Probably a little too much for someone to not actually believe in ghosts. He reached over to the piano stand and took the picture off the stand, sitting it down on the desk and running a finger down it.

If Barley was alive, he would be a very old dog by now, Yoongi thought. He wondered if the woman’s parents were the people renting out the lakehouse. He would have to have the Agency contact them and ask about her in a delicate manner so he could give them the documents. Yoongi stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He would usually make some coffee and continue working, but he found himself unusually tired and not particularly wanting to sit in the living room full of wide open windows and wide open spaces. He took his phone and a drink into the bedroom. There. If you’re under the covers, ghosts can’t get you, He found himself thinking. I’m so stupid. There’s no such thing as ghosts. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” He said out loud, like that made it more real. You just laughed. Yoongi froze. That tinkling sound again. Ok. It was time to pull the sheet over his head and go to bed. Which he did.

You felt bad and resolved that tomorrow you would be quiet, and not touch him, and not have impure thoughts about him. You would try so very hard. But, for a few minutes, you were going to watch him sleep. Just a little. Ghosts are allowed to be a little creepy.

Day 3

Yoongi woke up around 9 in the morning. It was raining outside. He felt his shoulder ache; the joint affected by weather ever since his accident. He groaned. He was hoping to take the rowboat out today but it would have to wait. He stayed in bed for a while, checking his phone even though he knew the reception made it almost useless.

He walked out to the kitchen and started to make the coffee without thinking. Wait a minute. He hadn’t set the coffee and filter out. He knew he hadn’t. And yet when he came out, the carafe, water, filter, and coffee were all laid out in a nice row.

See? You didn’t want to be creepy or scary. You wanted to be helpful. Yoongi let out a deep sigh, trying to fill himself up with bravery. “Whoever is here needs to stop messing with me. My head is fucked up enough without thinking I’m actually going crazy as well.”

Oh. You thought the coffee would make him happy but instead it had made him upset. You pouted. What could you do to make him not afraid? It was difficult being a ghost. You walked over to the piano and decided to play a nice happy song for him. Something not scary at all. You began to play the tune of “You are my Sunshine.” No one could be scared of that song. No one. Except apparently Yoongi was.

“Ahhh….” he let out a tiny scared sound. He looked over at the piano playing by itself and covered his ears and headed for the front door. He opened it and stepped outside into the rain. Shit. Shit. The piano is playing by itself. He thought. Shit. It’s raining. No. It’s pouring. The awning over the front door was very small. He ran over to the car to try and get inside but he had locked it. He scolded himself. This was the country, why the hell did he lock his car? Who was going to take it. Shit. He couldn’t walk anywhere else. He would have to go inside and get the car keys. He walked back to the front door and pulled on the knob. It was locked. SHIT he had also locked the bottom lock out of habit last night and hadn't unlocked it in his haste to get out of the house. Wet, scared Yoongi paused for a moment and laughed. This was ridiculous. The whole situation. He wiped his wet face with his hands and ran his fingers through his soaking wet hair.

You sat there feeling very sad. You had just tried to help. You felt like the two of you really shared a connection through the music, and he had talked to you, and you sat out coffee for him, and played a very cute song. Why was he being such a scaredy cat? And why was he still outside? It was pouring and his car keys were sitting on the fireplace mantle. A minute later you got your answer as you saw a very wet Yoongi at the back door. He was absolutely soaked.

Yoongi arrived at the back porch. Surely he hadn’t locked all of the sliding glass doors. He looked in through the windows and was shocked to see the profile of a girl sitting at the piano. Oh God. There was someone actually in the house. What if the girl wasn’t the only one? What the hell was going on? Yoongi felt his heart beat racing in his ears.

You got up, slightly annoyed by the fact he would rather be in the pouring rain than hang out with you and walked over to the door, opening it ever so slightly. Maybe he wouldn’t notice and think it was the wind. Or maybe he believed in ghosts now, you sighed.

Yoongi watched the woman through the fogged up windows walk over towards him and open the door just a crack. He heard her let out a deep sigh like he was being annoying. He opened the door the rest of the way and slowly walked inside.

“Wow you look even better when you are soaking wet,” you mused from your spot by the fireplace mantle.

Yoongi shook his hair out of his face and looked over at you, “Thanks, but who are you and why are you here….” His eyes widened as he was finally able to see clearly.

Your eyes also grew wider and you looked behind you to make sure he wasn’t speaking to anyone else. You looked back at him, “You can see me?”

Yoongi slowly nodded his head. The woman definitely looked like she could be twins with [y/n] from the photograph. “Of course I can, you’re ogling me from the fireplace.”

#yoongi scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts suga x you #suga x reader #suga x you #ghost romance #bts suga #bts yoongi

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seijch · 4 years

Text

ANNOUNCEMENT: NOT A HELLO, BUT NOT A GOODBYE EITHER

omg hi ... im like . ashamed to come back after saying brief hiatus in october and then disappearing off the face of the earth til FEBRUARY but under the cut i will be explaining myself and the following, if youre interested (and a tl;dr at the very bottom if you don’t wanna scroll thru this obnoxiously long post):

the reason(s) i was gone for so long

what i was doing during that time (its just a personal account yall can scroll past this idrc)

the status of those um . halloween requests

the future of this account

i. so . Hiatus .

i know. i know . i probably mentioned it when i made the announcement post, but my mental health likes to go on one of those rides. yknow the ones where you go like up rlly fast then down maybe and then up then DOWN .... its like that. i needed a break and every time i wanted to come back or thought about it, something would happen and i would get stuck in my own head.

a big reason for getting stuck in my head was (and i hate to admit this ... i hate to admit that i have Insecurities On The Internet) my feelings of inadequacy regarding my writing. i love to plot fics, i love concepts and characters and making little headcanons but i dont ... know if i love writing rn. and i thought for the longest time that like . whatever ill just push thru it its fine ill be fine but it kinda wasnt lmao you can kinda see it in my halloween reqs and what become of them when i get to that but i began to feel like nothing i had put out or would put out would hold up prose wise (and normally i dont feel like this im much more “idc its my life im living it” but thats not a rant for tumblr LMAO). i still feel like that -- like im better as a reader than a writer. but . You Know :-)

tl;dr: mental state go brrrrr

ii. anywhere here’s wonderwall

when i left, i was in a steadily decreasing mental and emotional state, made worse by a situation at work that really was a case of petty jealousy on my end and rlly isnt very consequential now despite how much pain and resentment it gave me when it Was a problem so i wont get into it. the tl;dr of november and december was me using work as an crutch and distraction -- i know my job, i do it well, it helped me not think about my responsibilities and obligations and inadequacies. of course, as the holiday season grew busier n busier i was scheduled so often that i moved 88 or so miles (according to my apple watch, which i ONLY wear at work since im never anywhere else outside my house) and fell into a cycle of showering n sleeping at my house before going back the next day. (theres definitely something to be said abt capitalism and “grind culture” here but once again its not the time or place snsjkdfds)

at the turn of the new year, i happened to remember a birthday card i hadnt filed away for safekeeping from a friend of mine that id been horribly out of touch with til that point. i started crying because i realized how out of touch id been in general up until that point. the month of january was great for me: i was focused, happy, and in a much better place than i had been before. the end of it brought me down focus wise and im hoping that enough time away from my distractions will refocus me bc i ... need it LMAO and though ive burned out from that level of productivity and gotten distracted again im ... trying to stay positive which i think is the most i can do 😁👍🏼

media wise, i got real into stardew valley (but burned out bc i played it extensively as a way to wind down after work), the pokemon platinum romhack renegade platinum (still havent finished it bc of school n i played it w the intent to see if i could nuzlocke it ... bitch its so hard but its so fun bc of it), briefly assassins creed: odyssey (im one of those ppl who completes an entire region before i move to the next so you can tell i burned out of that one + wouldnt have the time to properly devote to it even if i didnt), got back into genshin impact after pulling for xiao (after not touching it for like . months), and danganronpa. yes . danganronpa 😐 i Know. i stopped playing it after the second trial of the first game bc i was so hurt by the outcome and picked it up in late january only to get sucked in (thank god i had the foresight to buy the second and third games during the steam winter sale). rn im at the start of chapter 4 if anyone wants to come in my asks and um . talk to me abt danganronpa

tl;dr: I’m Into Danganronpa Now

iii. you realize halloween was three months ago right

i mentioned this in the first section, but i love to plot things. every request is plotted or at least has a solid foundation. i had fun detailing what concept i wanted to go with considering what i was given, and there were some bangers i might touch up in the future. but heres whats going to happen to the requests themselves:

there are two finished requests. one will be posted tomorrow and the other will be touched up (just bc i finished it doesnt mean its good 🧍‍♂️) and scheduled for next saturday. as for the ones i never got around to ...

i will not be finishing those requests. i hate to be That Person, but i feel like we all expected this 🧍‍♂️ what i will do is post all of my notes for each request in batches -- requests that have an @ to go with them will be mentioned in the post proper, but anon asks will be pictured. (there are some asks that came from blogs who are now deactivated but i wrote down all the prompts and remember most of those askers so ill cross that bridge when i get there) there will most likely be an excerpt or two simply bc i think i mightve written a few plot points or interactions in the form of bullet points. i rlly am sorry about doing this but i remember looking at my notion doc with all the prompts and feeling ... like i wasnt measuring up n it wasnt just to myself or to some intangible concept of “other” id constructed but it was instead to those who requested n actually WANTED to see and hear and read my writing and i ...... im gonna admit thats another big reason i avoided this site.

regardless, youll definitely get what i have (and likely more than just my bullet points and illegible handwriting).

tl;dr: im sorry. what i have in terms of plot, concept, and interaction for every request will be posted, but i cant say ill ever complete them and mean it.

iv. so what now?

well i mean . im not entirely sure how sold i am on haikyuu in the content creation department (as a creator n to a lesser extent, as a consumer). as mentioned previously, its no longer my primary focus. it doesnt mean im not into haikyuu anymore; i have a lot of love for those boys but i cant rlly say im even caught up w recent fandom activity and also havent even finished s4 pt2 LMAO thats on my to do list

and despite all that, i still want to share my plots n concepts and snippets and maybe even fics. it wont happen anytime soon. it might not even happen. but i mean . its better than me saying i wont write ever again shjdkfs but either way ill probably use this blog as a personal blog w the occasional ask game for dialogue prompts (those are always so fun i love making up aus to fit like . the most mundane prompts)

as for my works (past and any potential future), ive opened an ao3 acc here n ill be editing n possibly expanding on my old works to post there. tumblr, to me, is The x reader hub, but i figure more x reader fics on ao3 is never a bad thing.

ill be deleting/posting drafted posts to the queue since they were all meant to be queued anyway as well as (sorry again 🧍‍♂️) deleting or answering asks in the inbox. (moots if you get a notif from me saying i rbed your post from months ago ... mind your business) im very hard to get ahold of and its ... a problem. expect an overhaul of the nav n shit to reflect my new direction n also because i feel like i cant tell if my passion for carrd is shared by the majority HSDKLFS maybe its better to read my info in a normal post ykwim .......

and of course . if youve read all this n decided im no longer worth the follow, i sure as hell cant stop you. thank you for wanting to, at some point, hear what i have to say -- it means more than you think.

tl;dr: writing will be edited and reposted to ao3, this blog will be a personal blog with a hint of writing (sometimes)

the tl;dr to end all tl;drs:

im back! i wont be as active as i used to due to a lessened interest in haikyuu in general, but i have an ao3 acc now where all my past work will be edited, possibly expanded, and reposted. any future work will also find itself there. my halloween requests will be posted in batches as incomplete concepts, plots, and snippets of scenes; i wont be promising to finish any of them.

there are still fic concepts im attached to and want to finish, but i cant promise any more writing on my end. this blog will be a personal blog with maybe writing, not a writing blog with my personal thoughts all over it.

regardless if you stick around or not, its been crazy sexy cool (equal emphasis) being on haikyuu tumblr even tho i wasnt around for long ... even tho its not my main focus anymore, im still excited to see what the future might hold 🤝

love, ari 💌

#did i have an announcement tag #announcement #also regarding work hsjkdfsd the company i work for didnt give my location the opening for the full time position i wanted #my managers all agree id be promoted if we had it but we dont so i . hee .#anyway um i hope everyones doing well #some of my moots changed urls while i was away and now i have no idea who anyone is #its like when you see your familys friends and theyre like omg youre so big now! i remember when you were a baby and youre like 🧍‍♂️#and you have to play along bc apparently they remember you hskdfsd #im not very funny in this post but i figured id rather be honest considering my lengthy absence #consider this my comeback stage

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jar-full-of-pixel-hearts · 4 years

Text

Sugar Kiss Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Space Force Netflix

Fuck Tony Scarapiducci x Reader

Notes: I get a little bit cared away by my inspiration so this part is kind of long. But, I hope you will stay until the end because it’s really important ! I hope you will like it !

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—-

F. Tony couldn’t really explain what kind of impulse took him that Friday evening on his way home. But, one thing was sure, he needed to see you.

After one week of feeling ashame and stupid. Writing draft after draft of tweets not sure of the good things to write, apologies, joke, publicity proposition, before immediately erasing them. He became foolishly hopeful to cross your path on the entry of the General Naird office or in the lobby. It’s only when Wednesday arrived that the idea that maybe you were mad at him slowly started to drive him crazy, leading him to be distracted and sad.

On many occasions that week, people had asked him if he were okay, confused in front of his unusual silence and the way he was absently biting the nail of his thumbs.

Even Brad, who usually had a smile each time the four stars general became angry at Tony, started to ask questions that Friday morning.

“ Are you okay ? You are sit on this chair for almost thirty minutes now “

“ Yeah yeah interesting. Brad...did...Y/N is the kind of woman to do the cold shoulder traitement...or things like that...did she bring you a box of somethings this week...did she get ill ? “ Tony asked, ignoring the previous question of the one star general about his state of mind.

“ Y/N ? No I didn’t see her this week, she had that new product she was preparing to release so she was kind of busy. And she certainly is not ill, my wife always knows when one of us is sick. I don’t know how she does it, it’s almost like if she ....” Brad replied half mumbling to himself. “ Why do you want to know if she is the kind to do the silence traitement...what did you do F. Tony ? “

The joy that maybe you weren't mad at him, abruptly chasing the dark cloud, making him jump out of the inconfortable chair.

“ She had a cake release ? It wasn’t announced anywhere ! How should I were suppose to known that !” He exclaimed, already writing his next tweet for the moonlight cake twitter. Returning to his office, letting Brad wonders what’s happening and repeatedly calls his name.

But,once the funny tweet was ready, he still couldn’t send it either, having a strange feeling that it wasn’t the right thing to do. Feeling that Fuck Anthony Scarapaducci didn’t had often in his life.

And there he was, standing in front of the bakery door, waving at you, a smile full of hope plastered on his face .

Like always, you were stunning even in your simple casual jeans and t-shirt . At your expression, who’s quickly shifting for the most adorable smirk he ever seen, you didn’t expect to see anybody tonight.

Trying to calm the now fast beat of his heart and stop the fog invading his brain as you were reaching to unlock the door. A thousand of sentences started to spin in his head. But, none of the brilliant introductions or explanations for his presence really seem to justify the impulse who’s caught him. Letting him totally mute in front of your amused gaze.

“ Well, I know you didn’t really have close hours in space, Spaceman, but on earth it’s kind of a popular thing. “ You joke, your smile illuminating his night.

“ Yeah I know...We work on that...I was near and I thought to come see if you still were there...” He lied. “ I can come back another day if you prefer…?”

“ And let me eat all by myself the two last cinnamon rolls of the day ? No, come in, save me of a devastating sugar rush “

" If you insist on offering me a cinnamon roll…" He smiled, passing the door.

Looking around, admiring the simple but elegant Moon theme you had put in the main room. Succeeding somehow to make something like space, usually cold, welcoming and warm just like you.

“ Welcome to Moonlight cake F.Tony “

“ Thanks, I like it, it’s really...it’s really you, but with the moon...like Space Force is great but here it’s...really moonie...Instagram aesthetic...” He replied, realizing too late that he was babbling. Closing his eyes,cursing against himself. He suddenly opened them at the soft touch of your hand on his arms.

“ Thank you, it was kind of the idea... F. Tony, I’m sorry but...are you...are you mad at me, for not telling you sooner about twitter ? Because I swear I thought that you knew“ You shyly ask, the expression in your face, a mix of curiosity, hope and sadness, hurting him.

“ Mad at you, me ? Naah, of course no...I didn’t reply because of all this job the general Naird had for me this week. That man is so lost if I’m not here to read his tweet and arrange his meeting...” Fuck Tony reply, exaggerating his expression. The last grumble of his own fear that you were mad at him leaving his body like a stone out of his chest” And your uncle tell me about that cake release so I just think that you didn’t need that kind of distraction, that all I swear “

Seeing you smiling again, the expression so painful for him, leaving your face. He caught himself smiling, like if your happiness was sufficient to make himself happy, like a human bluetooth device.

“ Take a seat I will come back with the pastries “ You offer him, disappearing being the double door of the kitchen.

Absently sitting on one of the bistro chairs of the counter, passing a hand in his hair to keep them smooth and in order. F. Tony gave another look around him, discovering your touch in every little decoration and design. Passing from the soft grey of the wall from the blue roses on the counter and the framed picture of the moon.

“ Sorry for making you wait, I put a batch of cupcake in the oven for tomorrow. So, what brought you here ? “ You asked, contouring the long surface before sitting at his side, putting one of the dessert plates with the precious roll in front of him.

“ I um...I “ He started, fidgeting with his fork, the thought of telling you that he simply wanted to see your face crossing his mind before being shut down by his ego and fear of rejection “ I’m here to offer you my help with the media and talking about an idea“ He suddenly exclaimed, the fog of his brain vanishing.

“ I'm listening “ You reply, tearing a piece of your roll.

And the simple things that you were truly listening to him,giving you all your attention ,gave him one of the best feelings in the world.

" When I plan a meeting or press conference we always have the same company hired by the government who serves us awful coffee and hard as hell cookies. No surprise after that, that these reporters ask stupide and horrible questions, they are angry. But, if we serve them your soft, sweet pastry...happiness." He explained, taking a bite of his own sweet.

" That seems a really great idea, but what makes you think they will accept the change. They will maybe not like what I have to offer or my price. "

" We will probably have to make a plan with a smaller size of your product, bite size, smaller but more for the same cost to bake. But trust me, after a taste of your stuff they will say yes to everything you will ask." He replied, sure of his affirmation. Naird maybe didn't take him seriously when he was talking about social media, but, even he was able to see that in planification, F. Tony didn't play games. " The reputation of Moonlight cake is perfect in the town and at the base. Link to the space force event you will become a legend."

"Did you think about what it will cost me to do this ? Transport, staff and stock ?"

" I had thought of it too. If you bring some regular stock, we can sell them at the cafeteria, to the soldier and staff, creating a limited event. So, you will raise your sales of the day and It will also give the chance to gain new customers. “ He continu, glad to not lose all his capacity in front of your brilliant gaze.

"That's smart,but I'm only a small bakery in a town in Colorado. Government won't hire small business like mine usually" You asked, your knee brushing his as you instinctively approaching him, caught in the discussion.

" Please, I'm Fuck Anthony Scarapiducci. " He smirks, approaching his face of yours, like if he was about to give you a secret. " I have important contact. " He wink, his heart racing,your delicious perfume waking up is sense.

" And you will help me, just like that, for my pretty eyes? " You reply,almost in a whisper playfully flirting.

" Y/ N I could do so many things for just the sight of your pretty eyes…" F. Tony flirty confesses, his face at only few inches of yours, giving a glance to your lips.

Your gaze locked, you slowly approche of each other, attraction pushing you like a magnet.

Before being suddenly distracted by the loud noise of the oven clock.

" I...I have to take the cupcake out of the oven" You shyly tell, taking a quickly step back.

" Yes, no problem I um…" He started misunderstanding your shyness for regret, preparing already himself to leave.

"I will come back in a minute, stay there please “ You ask, giving him a shy look back before coming into the kitchen,a smile on your lips.

"Yes! I... I will wait for you here….that you come back…here " He replied surprise, his mind slowly realizing that you almost shared a kiss. That you would actually let him kiss you.

“ They are perfectly gold and smell divine “ You announce, coming back in the main room where F.Tony was waiting for you, lost in his thoughts. “ Are you okay, you seem really serious right now “

Lifting his decided gaze on you, his heart beating like crazy, he didn’t bother to reply getting up off his chair before cupping the side of your face with his left hands, his finger tangling into your hair. Approaching gently his face of yours, building his courage, he suddenly kissed you, passing an arm around your waist.

The kiss, at first sweet and gentle, becomes quickly passionate. Putting your hands on the back of his neck and his shoulder, trying to keep your balance as your head was starting to deliciously spin. You feel his lips leave yours, making you miss the pressure of his mouth almost immediately.

“ I really have to go...both of my phone's vibrate...Naird need me...I...I text you...I swear…” F.Tony whispers, taking a step back before kissing you quickly one more time in the lips. “ I’m sorry“

Turning on his heels, passing the door, a mix of emotion bursting inside his chest. He let you in shock in the middle of the bakery, your fingers brushing your lips, your heart and his resonating at the same beat.

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