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minor-solemnity · 4 years ago

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i don't know if this counts as a request but just makeup sex!! the way you wrote smut in curiosity was so good!

This definitely counts as a request haha! Thank you so much, I hope you like it!

2.8k of (a little) plot and more smut :)

Tag List: @jinxqsu @cakesarecute @naps-and-lemons @mainlynonsense @riddles-wifey

Game Theory

“Don’t make a scene,” Tom whispers in your ear and you’re still shivering but it’s not only from the cold anymore. He leads you away from the ruckus, his hand never leaving your back, his gaze focused determinedly on the castle. Any thought you had about finding Frasier is replaced by the desperate need you suddenly feel to make sure that Tom never stops touching you again.

Hogwarts is hosting a festival for a comet. You’re not sure why a comet deserves a festival - something to do with an ancient prophecy allegedly made by Rowena Ravenclaw. The night shall bow to fire and the school shall stand strong. It’s all very poetic. Regardless, Hogwarts is celebrating the passing of the comet over the school and you have to admit that the grounds look beautiful. Tiny replica comets made of bluebell flames dance above your head, marble statues of famous astronomers and seers stand proud in the tall grass, and garlands of lotus flowers, yellow jasmine, and, more strangely, parsley are strewn everywhere. Further down, there is a sectioned off area for dancing where tinkling music can be heard drifting over the light breeze. The small rowing boats that usually carry the first years over to Hogwarts are adorned with tiny glowing lights, ready to take you and the rest of the school across the lake to see the comet blaze across the dark sky when the time comes.

You feel like you’ve walked into a fairy circle, not the grounds that you’ve come to know so well over the years. You stand there, at the doors to the castle surveying the scene before you with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Students are milling around, enjoying the music and the food. You can spy a few of your friends drifting about and you make a note to say hello when you get the opportunity. If you get the opportunity.

Because… because you’ve done something pretty stupid. You’ve gone and found yourself a date and as it turns out, Frasier Rowle is… well he’s handsome. Which was why you’d started dropping hints a few weeks ago. But he’s also brimming with undeserved arrogance and entitlement. He’s possessive too, and petulant. You’d found that out the hard way when you’d apparently hugged Charlie a little too tightly for Frasier’s liking and he’d sulked for a week straight. No, Frasier doesn’t like other people playing with his toys and in any other circumstance, you would have rolled your eyes and dumped him for his childishness.

These are not normal circumstances though. You'd needed a date for the festival because if you didn’t then you’d have lost. Well. Sort of. There’s no game being played, certainly not officially at any rate. But still, you don’t lose games official or unofficial. It’s a rule you have for yourself. You like winning. Simple.

So, you smile demurely at Frasier and ignore the way his black dress robes wash out his pale eyes and pale hair (you wished he’d opted for the blue as you’d suggested) and offer him your hand. He takes it, holding it a little too tightly as you descend the steps to the party below. You feel the weight of his gaze even though you can’t see him. You ignore it. You pretend you don’t know you’re being watched as you twist your arm through Frasier’s and when he kisses your cheek, you pretend you don’t care that Frasier’s breath is a little sour from whatever he ate at dinner.

Charming. You’re charming and funny and flirty and Frasier is proud to have you as a date. You can see it in the way that he all but parades you around in front of his friends. The tell-tale prickling on the back of your neck tells you that he’s still watching. Which means you’re still winning. So you smile and laugh and stay close to Frasier even when he and his friends start talking about the internships and jobs their wealthy and connected parents have secured them. Frasier is apparently going straight into the DMLE even though his grades suggest a role as shop assistant would be far more suited to his capabilities.

“-like I always say, it’s not a bad thing to be better than other people.” Frasier’s voice cuts through your thoughts and your smile turns slightly strained. Because it isn’t a bad thing to be better. But Frasier Rowle simply isn’t. He reminds you of one of those expensive eclairs that your mother sometimes brings home when you have cause for celebration: beautifully decorated and full of air. “Isn’t that right?” His elbow digs into your ribs and for a second you stop smiling. He frowns expectantly.

“Of course. You’re completely right.” You say and carefully extricate yourself from his arms. Deciding to date Frasier had been a stupid decision on your part. In all honesty, you find him incredibly distasteful but… But he serves a purpose. And you’ll be damned if you don’t see this through. “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I’ll get us some drinks?” He nods and you make a hasty (but not too hasty, you wouldn’t want anyone watching to get the impression that you’re eager to leave) departure.

You’re standing at the drinks table, pretending to decide between a flute of sparkling apple juice or pumpkin juice (why wasn’t wine an option?) when he slides in next to you. Tom looks horribly good. His dark hair is parted neatly, falling in delicate waves across his forehead and the soft glow from the bluebell flames throw his aristocratic features into sharp relief. You note, with no small amount of irritation, that Tom, unlike Frasier, looks devastatingly good in black. His robes are perfectly cut and look soft and inviting in the way that expensive things often do. You imagine that they’re a gift from Malfoy or one of his other cronies.

“Rowle then. That’s who you’ve decided to degrade yourself with.” Straight to the point then. Well, good. This is the only reason you’ve been putting up with Frasier for all these weeks, after all. You cast a sideways glance in Tom’s direction and are aggravated to see that, despite the jealousy lacing his words, he looks entirely at ease. Like he’s just asked you about the decor or the weather or last week’s arithmancy test.

“I’d hardly call dating Frasier degrading myself. He’s been offered a very important position in the DMLE, don’t you know?” You reply archly. He raises an eyebrow in response and you purse your lips primly, as though you don’t share his exact thoughts on Frasier’s future Ministry job. You turn to him then, taking in the darkness of his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks, the almost imperceptible clench of his jaw. Something that feels like it could be triumph settles in your stomach. Tom is a master of controlling his emotions, but even he has his tells. “More to the point, why do you care?”

He doesn’t answer right away and really, you don’t expect him to. Why does he care? You aren’t sure he even knows the answer to that himself. All you know is that after a year of meeting him in alcoves and abandoned classrooms, you can’t stand to be a secret anymore. And he can’t seem to stand the idea of holding your hand in public. “I’m merely surprised. You’re reasonably intelligent and he is... Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing his family is so well connected.”

“Reasonably intelligent? If it weren’t for you, I’d be top of the year,” You say indignantly. He smirks that you realise that maybe you should probably be defending Frasier’s intellect. “And I find mine and Frasier’s conversations incredibly... stimulating, if you must know. It’s really quite nice to get such a fresh perspective on certain issues. No pointless arguments because he’s too stubborn to realise what he could lose.” You smile innocently as his posture grows taught and his lips thin.

“Oh look, your security troll is coming to collect you,” Tom says dispassionately, eyeing Frasier who has spotted you and now making his way steadily over. You scoff.

“Oh please, Frasier is hardly a troll. He’s much too-” whiny, self-important, weak “-small.” Something dangerously close to a laugh escapes Tom’s lips and a pang of sadness and anger and longing twists in your gut. It’s far too easy to fall into your regular routine of barbed comments and sly humour with Tom. It reminds you of the other conversations too, the secrets and confessions that seem to spill from you both whenever you let your guard down for long enough. Whatever. He doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want you. Not enough for you to be satisfied anymore. You shoot him a smile, insincere and caustic, “Besides, maybe I like having someone who cares enough about me to see who I’m spending time with.”

He frowns, only for a second, and that’s the only sign you get that your words have affected him before his expression clears and he looks as impassive and impenetrable as ever. Frasier appears and it doesn’t take a genius to realise that he’s unhappy. He looks between you and Tom with a suspicious sneer distorting his features. “I was wondering what was taking you so long. But I should have known, it’s so sweet of you, darling, to be so charitable with your time.” You tense at the thinly veiled insult about Tom’s humble beginnings before you mechanically pass your date his drink. He wraps an arm around your shoulders in a, quite frankly, terribly insecure show of machismo. You smile up at him and refuse to look back at Tom as he leads you away.

***

Night has well and truly fallen and you’re silently bemoaning the fact that your dress robes have short sleeves whilst you try futilely not to shiver. Frasier hasn’t noticed; he’s busy talking about his future or quidditch or the funny thing his house-elf did last summer or some other entirely inane thing with his friends. His hand is curved around your waist and you’re fairly sure it’s for Tom’s benefit. This, at least, makes you somewhat pleased. But still, you’re cold, you’re bored, you haven’t been able to talk to your friends at all, and you’re wishing desperately that it was Tom’s arms around you.

It seems as though your scheming has not gone to plan. Well, no. The plan had been to make Tom jealous and you’re fairly sure you’ve accomplished that. But still, you somehow feel as though you’ve lost. At the sound of a loud chime, a hush falls across the festival and the Headmaster announces that you have thirty minutes before the comet is scheduled to pass overhead. Immediately, the professors begin to coral students towards the lake and a crowd of eager teenagers starts to form around you, pushing forwards to get to the boats. Frasier’s hand slips from your waist and you get separated in the rush. You’re about to reach forward to try and grab him when a large, warm hand touches your lower back. You freeze because you know that touch. Know those hands. Intimately.

You’re not that easy though. You’ve been denying yourself what you want for weeks at this point. You can carry on for another few minutes. “Where are you taking me?” You ask and you’re quite proud that you sound demanding, maybe a little petulant. As though you wouldn’t follow him wherever he decided to take you. Judging by the shrewd glance Tom sends your way, he can see right through the protests forming on your tongue.

“You’ll see soon enough.” He pushes you inside the castle and suddenly the noise and commotion of the festival feel very far away. The quietness of the empty castle seems to envelop the two of you, creating an almost stifling atmosphere that you somehow can’t quite bring yourself to break. Tom drags his gaze over you, drinking in every change in your expression, every shift of your body. You feel vulnerable and raw and seen. Slowly, he raises his hands and runs them up your arms. You’re skin, still cold from the night suddenly feels like it's on fire. “You’re cold.” You nod. “I would have expected better from someone of your date’s impeccable breeding,” Tom murmurs it like it’s an insult. You frown and are about to ask what he means when he shrugs out of his robes and drapes the heavy fabric across your shoulders. He smiles then, slow and possessive and pleased.

The errant embers of desire that have been burning in your chest since he first touched you spark brighter and fiercer. He takes you by the shoulders and holds you close as he leads you further into the castle, the press of his chest against your back, the pressure of his fingers on your skin a tantalising promise of more to come. “You know, I was rather looking forward to the comet. A once in a lifetime event, I’m told.” And well… You still sound petulant, maybe even a little bratty but also breathy and excited and oh, oh, Tom’s humming deep and low in your ear, maybe a little amused, maybe a little endeared and his fingers press a little harder and he quickens his pace as though he wants - needs - this just as badly as you do.

He carries you the last few steps up to the astronomy tower. No sooner have you made it to your destination than he is pressing you against the wall of the tower, one hand gripping your waist tightly the other moving to cup your jaw, his fingers spread across your throat and you gasp and-

Wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer, moan into his mouth when he finally kisses you. There isn’t a metaphor or simile that describes the fervour he kisses you with. He’s demanding and desperate in the way his lips slant across yours, tasting and searching and you yield. You yield so quickly it would be embarrassing if you weren’t so hot with want and need and desire. You angle your body more closely to his and relish in the hard press of his chest, the way his hand slides from your waist to your hips then back to your waist like he can’t quite decide where he wants to touch you. You can feel the unmistakable hard outline of his cock against your hip and you grind upwards, unthinking, lost in a haze of pleasure and the feeling of his lips biting kisses along your jaw.

You unwind your arms from his neck and reach his belt but are stopped when he takes a step back, his hands moving to grip your wrists before you can continue. You feel unmoored and can’t quite help the whine that escapes your lips. When your gaze finally focuses, you see him watching you, his already dark eyes are practically black, pupils blown, his lips are swollen and wet, and his breathing is ragged. “Does he do this to you?” He asks, his usually smooth voice rough with emotion.

When you don’t say anything, he smirks, and, holding both your wrists in one hand, slowly, teasingly drags his other up the inside of your thigh. You’re helpless to stop him as he dips his fingers down into your underwear and curls two inside you. He teases you with long strokes, using his thumb to brush against your clit until you’re trembling and gasping and pleading. “Can he make you lose control like I can?” His voice is dangerously low and he’s watching you closely, never quite giving you what you want.

It’s torture.

It’s bliss.

“Please, please, please,” You chant under your breath, a steady stream of words and preyers that aren’t all decipherable. “Please, Tom, you know he can’t. You know it’s only you, please, please.” His face goes slack with desire and just as quickly as he’d pulled away he’s pressing closer to you again, kissing you hard.

His thigh nudges your legs wider apart and you hook one leg around his waist relishing in the pressure and friction this new angle affords you. You hear the zip of his trousers and then the tip of his cock against your folds as he aligns himself and, “Ohh, please, Tom, I need-”

Your senses are overwhelmed by his smell, his touch, his quiet grunts of exertion as he sets a rather punishing pace. He’s mumbling promises and praise and curses into the crook of your neck and you squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers move in sloppy rhythm against your clit, adding just the right amount of friction that has you gasping obscenities into his ear.

The pressure in your lower stomach builds and builds until finally your orgasm crests over you. He’s holding you tighter still, riding you through it until you collapse against him, shuddering through the aftershocks. He follows you soon after, his body growing tense, his grip on your hip so tight it’s almost painful, your name on his tongue.

Afterwards, you curl up against him, his robes (you were right: they’re soft and warm and expensive) wrapped around you both. Tom strokes your hair almost absently as you watch the sky as Ravenclaw’s comet streaks past, bright and bold and so beautiful that it almost takes your breath away. Almost. “I want you to take me on a date. And hold my hand in public.” You say. Request. Demand.

He laughs and pulls you closer, “If that’s what it takes to keep you from embarrassing yourself with the likes of Rowle, I’d be happy to oblige.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fanfic #minific #prompt fic #prompt fill #prompt #asks #requests #anon #tom riddle smut

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ellynneversweet · 4 years ago

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A modest proposal: the first proposal in P&P is indicative as much of Darcy’s respect for Elizabeth as his disdain for her circumstances, and foretells their eventual functional relationship, despite being so insulting Elizabeth would have been justified in shoving him out the window as a response.

Blather below cut, because this is long and it isn’t really a properly cited argument (it’s late, I’m lazy)

Why do I think this about The Worst Proposal in literary history, frequently compared both to Mr Collin’s no-means-yes proposal and Darcy’s later I’ll Shut Up If You Want Me To Really Just Say The Word proposal? Because Darcy doesn’t explain himself to anyone else in the book, but he does explain himself — fairly constantly — to Elizabeth. He starts early on, with their argument at Netherfield where he points out that Elizabeth is asking him to explain opinions she has attributed to him but that he has never expressed, goes on with the proposal and the succeeding letter, and, concludes when Elizabeth brings up the topic of his intervening in the Lydia Incident and he explains his reasoning and intention.

Now, Darcy is rarely asked to explain himself — I don’t think anyone except Elizabeth dares to do so in the text, and between the reactions of Mr Bingley (cheerfully admits to being intimidated into going along with whatever Darcy thinks is a good idea), Mr Gardiner (suspects Darcy of being eccentric and high-handed in his initial welcoming behaviour at Pemberley) and Mr Bennet (says Darcy is the sort of man he wouldn’t dare to refuse) it’s reasonable to infer that Darcy’s general social situation is that he makes decisions according to whatever esoteric reasoning appeals to him, and other people are just expected to go along with it. It suits his station in life, but it also suits his age — Darcy inherits exceptional wealth and influence at a very young age, and is simply used to being treated like and thinking of himself as a person with the inherent right to Have His Way in a way that someone who inherited with an older and less pliable sense of self might be. He doesn’t feel the need to ask even his family’s opinions or permission on his actions, although we know from what he tells Elizabeth that he takes what he assumes to be their opinions into account when making a decision (I’m inclined to think this is an age-at-inheritance thing, in that I suspect young Darcy felt obliged to make it clear to his older and higher ranking relatives that he and Pemberley weren’t extensions of their own estates).

The point of this is that practically nobody would have expected him to actually explain why he had chosen to marry Elizabeth, including Elizabeth herself. He could have just asked her, without elaboration, because he had the resources and this was a thing that he had decided to do, for reasons apparent only to himself, and no one would have asked him to explain his reasoning. He would probably have been thought to be acting rashly/overwhelmed by emotion/behaving in an extremely surprising and unexpected way/being a very disobliging nephew, but, well, Great Men Have Their Reasons, and apparently he’s into that sort of thing Elizabeth.

But what does this wealthy and influential man who expects everyone to fall in line do, when proposing? He explains himself. Elizabeth gets the (unwelcome at the time) privilege of hearing his reasoning process, his uncertainty and worry, his various unguarded thoughts, his plans for their/his future. Unfortunately, they’re mostly thoughts about how she’s going to make his life harder in ways that she can’t change (her family’s situation) and didn’t initiate (proposal that he blindsided her with), and she’s rightly insulted. But. Consider this honest presentation of problems and solutions in contrast to, say, Mr Bennet, who never explains anything to his wife and keeps important information from her, or Mr Collins, who expects his wife to follow along in his unswerving deference to Lady Catherine’s wishes. IMO, the laying out of insulting detail is, slightly perversely, an indication of Darcy’s respect for Elizabeth’s intellect and opinion, and her right to an explanation and input. That he listens to her tear his careful examination of the facts into tiny pieces, and then takes steps to explain and apologise, is another.

Consider, too, Mr Bennet’s later concern about Elizabeth finding herself in an unequal match in terms of ‘talents’ (ie intellect). Darcy treats Elizabeth like his intellectual equal, if not his social equal, and, I would argue, indicates an expectation of a companionate marriage wherein both partners respect each other’s thoughts and opinions and are privy to each other’s concerns. (He’s obviously jumped the gun in assuming he has the right to ask Elizabeth to hear his concerns, and seriously misjudged the wisdom of asking her to reassure him as to his worries about her embarrassing family/private sore spot, but I digress. I think he’s talking more to the Elizabeth in his head than the Elizabeth in front of him at that point.) And Elizabeth comes around eventually — consider that they ‘decide between themselves’ that they are to be the happiest couples in the world.

Anyway, TLDR post-canon Darcy definitely runs everything past his wife and they have problem-solving/budget planning/social plotting tête-à-têtes on the regular.

#it’s largely headcanon but I read Darcy as someone who really really wants someone to talk to who can keep up with him but isn’t going to #try to overrule him #or take advantage of him #he’s got a lot of responsibilities! who does he talk to about his doubts when he’s trying to figure out what to do?#enter fiercely loyal and clever Elizabeth #is it any wonder he goes all heart-eyes at her?#I mean I do think pre-first proposal Darcy has an idealised version of Elizabeth in his head that he’s in love with but the emphasis is #as much on her mind as on her Fine Eyes #pride and prejudice #Fitzwilliam ‘what do you mean I have to leave the house to meet people?!’ Darcy

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bookersebastien · 4 years ago

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since I love your headcanons/meta (if you're up to it) can I have your thoughts on the guard + fashion

andy

Andy probably has a pretty complicated relationship with fashion, like i think she does with most things in the modern world given the fact that it’s only a tiny spec of her lifetime

She’s spent her life watching thousands upon thousands of fashion trends come and go and was alive during the creation of many fabrics themselves

She’s been a warrior her entire life, we may not know the manner of her first death (or at least not from the movies) but we know she’s spent most of her life as an immortal fighting, both before and after she met quynh

Fashion for her was always at the very least comfortable and flexible, something she could travel and fight in without a moment’s notice

But to some extent how she looks, her image is a very important aspect of her, especially in the earlier part of her life

She was a famed fighter for so long, earning her name “fighter of man”, there were probably stories told of her and quynh, warrior women who no one can defeat, her clothing at that time at least semi reflected that, she wanted to be seen as “unbreakable” as she says in the movie

She had probably minimal armor, after all she doesn’t need it technically and would only prefer it to have less healing time if she took on less damage, but her clothing showed exactly who she was, every bit the warrior

As practical as she is, who she appears to be is still probably very much still tied to her identity, she may not be known anymore and doesn’t even want to be for the sake of their safety but her clothes are not just strictly practical, rather than be the warrior of myth she has now become a warrior of the modern age, a warrior of the shadows

Her clothes still reflect her younger self, the famed warrior, just scaled back and modernized. She wears calf-high boots, arm braces and fitted clothing in all black she cuts quite and imposing figure and that’s what i think she wants. She doesn’t necessarily use it to intimidate others, as her younger self may have done, this time her clothing is now to make her still feel powerful, a reflection of who she is now: skilled and deadly, ready at a moments notice to protect those she loves

While jeans and a tank top is a perfectly normal outfit, with the boots and braces you’d do a double take, wondering who she was, but it’s meant to blend in just enough but if you look closely enough at how tight the boots are laced and her posture, tank top carefully tucked in you’d start to wonder

I think she does actually like fashion, she’s seen so much of it and she probably sees things that remind her of something she saw hundreds of years ago, like seeing trends pop up again and it fills her with nostalgia. It reminds her of when she was in love with humanity, loved seeing what people created and invented and when she truly believed in their cause

But things definitely changed after quynh was thrown in the ocean, just had a less of desire and the clothes probably reminded her of quynh, what’d she’d wear and what she’d get for andy to wear and as modern times came around she stuck to stuff that was more practical, still a little fashionable, but stuff that could be worn doing anything from sleeping to fighting

I think her clothing in the movie, mostly black, reflects who she is as this time: a powerful and strong warrior who’s also afraid, she’s afraid that she spent her life fighting for something that doesn’t matter but also (pre-nile) afraid of what she’s going to do now that she said the world could burn - what does a 6,000+ immortal warrior do then?

booker

Booker is not unfashionable, and while his relatively apathetic and cynical nature might make you think fashion isn’t something he would care about, i think he does

He isn’t like joe who would go the extra step to make an outfit more aesthetically pleasing, but also he isn’t as super practical as nicky (he keeps his gun in his pants for fuck’s sake)

Booker is tired and wants to feel normal, to feel his humanity that he feels is slipping away from him even though it’s already been 200 years - he’s still adjusting and that’s because he never wanted this and still doesn’t completely accept this is his life now (hence at least a partial reason for his betrayal)

But i don’t booker is one to make too much of a fuss about what he’s wearing, he wants simple clothing that won’t make him look out of place, especially since he was the one who met with copley for that previous mission maybe he is the one who scouts missions as their seemingly resident computer person

So he goes for what a lot of people do: classic pieces of clothing in selection of relatively neutral colors that all work together. In their life it’s important to have clothes at the ready, both in their bags and at their safehouses and i’d bet at least most of his stuff would work together with no issues

Aside from the tac outfit of course, he mainly wears an assortment of jeans, boots, button downs and leather jackets in mostly blacks and grays with a couple faded blues and greens - any of these can be thrown on without an issue, it looks like a complete outfit and nothing about how he’s dressed is any way going to attrract attention

Plus this man doesn’t care enough about himself to make him look good rather than just being fine with what he has, he wants to die and doesn’t allow himself to feel the love he has from his family, dressing up to him isn’t going to add anything or make anything better

So in the sequel i’d love to see him deal with his pain and his betrayal head on and who knows maybe joe will buy him some zipper pants too and maybe booker will actually like them

nicky

Nicky is the other more practical one other than andy, but he lacks her attempt at keeping at appearances/empowerment

The majority of movies he’s wearing plain t-shirts and regular jeans with dad jackets, the only slightly impractical fashion choice being his hoodie from the tac outfit, which it does cover him up completely and allows him to cover his face more if needed but also it’s hot (i also like that post comparing the hoodie to the crusader’s chainmail helmet)

But nicky in essence is practical, he’s the protector of the group, always watching and always on the edges, he doesn’t care much i think for what he wears as long as it allows him to do his job

Yes of course he participated in fashions over the years, and will wear things joe picks out for him and occasionally what he picks out for himself, but that stuff is not for when there is a mission, not when people need help

But i think he usually gravitates towards simple like andy, something to run and fight in but he lacks andy’s past of fame, reverence, and notoriety (at least in the way she had it - he did fight in the crusades after all) so his clothing isn’t to do anything for him but to act as clothing, it holds no mental power over him, he has no image to project - he’s done so much that he wants to help people and protect his family and that’s it

I don’t think growing up in genoa before the crusades lent itself to that many fashion opportunities and while we aren’t sure of his exact status, i don’t think any of the guard were particularly wealthy (except possibly yusuf as the son of merchants) and being a priest at the time i’m sure didn’t make him wealthy in his adulthood either

And while he’s lived 900+ years, the way you grew up doesn’t just leave you, he was at least catholic, and i still think he holds his faith close, just in a different way now

Plus look at his tac outfit, the most comfortable looking (it is a hoodie after all) and he has half a dozen guns strapped to himself along with sword, he wants the ability to carry his things comfortably without impeding him in any way, he wants to be totally and completely prepared and is very much the typical dad in this sense, everything must be on hand so he can protect those he loves

Also you know this man owns cargo pants much to joe’s dismay

joe

we all know joe is the fashionable male among the guard, i mean the backwards baseball cap and the zipper pants? yeah

in his tac outfit, the hat really adds nothing to it besides aesthetic, it’s not shielding his eyes from the sun because he’s wearing sunglasses and it doesn’t aid him in any way during a fight unless he had decided to pull a booker and do “whatever works” and just like hit someone with it - it’s a purely aesthetic choice

but joe was the child of merchants and lived in an area with a rich history of colorful and beautiful fashion, the region was known for the lightweight fabrics and light silks that during the crusades, many were brought back to europe and astounded the europeans

i think that has stayed with joe, that complete appreciation and awe at the craft of making clothing and using clothing to show yourself and personality

joe is also a man of the arts, there was so much poetry and arts in the maghreb region, and while that existed in italy as well, nicky was a priest and probably wasn’t exposed to it much outside a religious context

joe is also an artist himself, he has such a grand appreciation for aesthetics and while clothing purely for aesthetics isn’t practical for the life they live unless they are on a break, he manages to infuse his clothing with his personality nonetheless

the backwards hat was fun, unnecessary but it also didn’t get in the way of his fighting. he probably just enjoyed the look (and i know we all did too) and the leather jacket with the hoodie and zippered pants at the end scene was just such an effortless cool look that was still practical but had a lot more personality and an attempted look™ than say nicky and his dad jacket

nile

most of what nile is wearing in the movie isn’t her choice of clothing, not that i don’t think she’d absolutely pick out that green bomber jacket but in the movie she wasn’t the one who picked it, it was packed for her

but the outfit she wears in the end is just like her, trendy and young and refreshing given that the rest of the guard sticks to their own styles they’ve been in the whole movie

but nile is the one who is most likely to branch out, she’s only in her late 20s and by her last scene in the movie it’s only been maybe a week or so since she became immortal, she hasn’t evolved a ‘be ready to fight’ kind of fashion and doesn’t have the hundreds of years of experience telling her to buy things that she can fight in as well as sleep in - now she was in the marines so to some extent but not with her own personal clothing choices

despite her chaotic introduction to being immortal, it won’t set in for a while that their lives are running from one danger to the next, taking breaks when they can, especially with andy’s renewed commitment to the job she and the others set out to accomplish, her clothing style will probably change as she settles into this new life

but we can see in her last scene, she is wearing comfortable clothing, a fitted shirt with a stylish yet somewhat more loose fitting jacket and looser pants (they look like joggers and i can’t completely remember if they are or not)

so while her clothes are comfortable, they are more fashionable than any of the others, and while this probably has lots to do with her age i think it’s very important to her current state of mind

she’s had the most insane weeks of her life, found out she’s not going to die for a very long time, found out there are others like her, and had to say goodbye to her family without seeing them again because she’s decided to stick with her new life

and this is a massive change for her, after being in the military for quite a few years, assuming she joined when she around 18-20 which i think she did enlist then especially given the fact that her dad passed when she was younger

life in the military is very controlled, so her having this sudden new gift but also this vast wide open future is probably terrifying to her, so much has changed so quickly, she hasn’t had the time to properly sort through how she’s feeling and truly realizing what this life means

her clothes are a reflection of one thing in her life she can currently control because she can’t control what’s going to happen in the world and where copley will find them a job or where they will be at any one time but she has control over herself so she dresses herself how she wants, how she’d dress if she was home

it’s some semblance of normality, some piece of herself that hasn’t changed and that she wants to express

quynh

while we don’t see quynh much besides in flashbacks and then in the final scene i think fashion is going to be something important to her

she spent 500 years drowning, unable to do anything, unable to save herself

nile said she was feeling insane and angry, quynh spent 500 years without an ounce of control over what was happening to her and regaining her life is something she is not going to take for granted

she’s going to live her life to the fullest, which includes wearing whatever she likes and wearing the colors she loves and the clothing that makes her feel beautiful and badass and powerful - a little like andy and a little like nile

it’s a huge part of her life she’s regained, clothing is something the whole world sees and part of how we perceive people and in a world that she doesn’t know at all she’ll want to craft herself an image because clothing is still one thing she can understand - the styles are all different but i have no doubts it’s something she took to quite quickly, having something she can control completely

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

handmaid - 02

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: you guys have been so extremely sweet with this new work i don’t even know how to thank you!! thank you so so much for supporting my writing, it always makes my day. i hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N was laying in her new room right stuck in between the guest and Gwen’s bedroom. It was a rather bleak room if she was being honest. The walls were all white in exception to one of them that like the entrance was covered in floor to ceiling windows. There was little to no furniture in exception for a king sized bed, a white chest of drawers and a wall embedded wardrobe where she had put most of her clothes already.

She wondered why a man of such income would like to be surrounded by such bleak colours. From what she had noticed his whole place was decorated in shades of grey and black with the occasional beige and white. Sure, it looked lovely, sleek even, something worth of being in the cover of an architectural magazine, but it wasn’t a home. A home had warmth, lived in sheets, walls and floors, this house however was ... was ghosted, almost as if no one lived in it.

Rolling onto the comfortable white sheets, she took the contract into her hands, looking at the lettering on the cover itself. Y/N fully understood why he wanted all his employees to have a binding legal document, what she didn’t expect was to see the first line constricted her breathing. “The individual agrees not to follow any legal action against the employer in any circumstance”, it read. This was definitely not what was she expecting.

- Y/N? - she shoved the contract under her sheets as Gwen’s voice sounded through the room, her head peaking through the opening of the door. - What are you up to?

- Not much. How are you? Do you enjoy the new room? - Sebastian had put her in a different room from his, something she had expected but still found odd. They were to be married after all and despite it all being a business move and transaction, it was still a valid marriage. However, none of them seemed to eager to at least try and create some chemistry.

- Boring. I need a favour, though. Please and when you decide remember you’re my oldest and best friend since we were babies. - Y/N knew that face and she did not like it. It was the same face that got them both stranded in the Carribean because she just needed to get to know some guy from the opposite terminal before catching the plane. However, she also knew Gwen to be a great driving force of making her do things she didn’t exactly want to do, so she decided to nod her head yes, already overwhelmed with the move and the contract. - I need to head out for a few minutes, could you cover for me?

- What ... where are you going?

- I have a date. - she cheekily entered the room, closing the door behind her after checking if someone was in the hall. The redhead sat in front of her, a childish grin on her face as if she were in high school going out with the captain of the football team. - And he’s really sweet.

- Gwen, you’re engaged. - the big sapphire in her left hand’s third finger was all she could look at. Of course Y/N wanted to be happy for Gwen, she really did and she really shouldn’t put too much effort in the thought that she was going to get married, after all it was just a strategy, but her mind was screaming at her that it wasn’t right. - Don’t you wanna at least give it a go before you completely give up?

- No, I wanna go out with Chuck. - she took her engagement ring off, placing it on Y/N’s white sheets. - Please cover for me, please.

- What if Sebastian notices you’re gone?

- He won’t because you’ll cover for me, besides, he probably won’t even leave his office. Please, Y/N? - Y/N sighed. What was the use of saying no if she was gonna leave any other way? Besides, if she were right and Sebastian didn’t leave his office, it should be alright. Losing whatever piece of resolve she has in her, she let out a soft smile, nodding her head yes which led the redhead to hug her with a death like grip. - It’ll one be for a few hours. I owe you one.

- I’m pretty sure you’ve own me one since we were one. - Gwen let out a celebratory chuckle before grabbing her bag and leaving Y/N on her own once again.

The whole house was constantly silent, almost as if all the employees were scared of making a sound which when it came to the demanding presence of their boss, she wondered if that was the case. The only disruption of silence that could be heard was the soft rain against the windows which was enough to lull her to sleep. She would’ve possibly remained asleep if it hadn’t been for a slight knock interrupting her slumber. She took her head off her pillow, confused as if she had slept for so long, Gwen had returned. Another knock made her get from the bed, sleep still in her eyes as she opened the door to come face to face with one of the dressed up employees.

- Miss Y/N, dinner is served.

- Just Y/N please.

- I believe it would be more of Miss Forrest’s comfort if you were to inform her dinner is ready.

- Oh ... Miss Forrest ... she’s, she’s not feeling very well.

- Should we call a doctor?

- No, it’s just ... you know, that time of the month. - Y/N had the most nervous smile on her face, but as the man heard that specific term, he scrunched his face for a few seconds before returning to his normal formal and stoic posture. Maybe she had gotten away with it. - I don’t think she’ll want any dinner.

- Oh, alright, would you still like to have dinner, Miss Y/N? - he questioned. She was rather hungry, after all, all she had before coming in was dinner and after sleeping she always awake up feeling like snacking, therefore dinner sounded like a good idea.

She followed the man into the kitchen that similarly to the rest of the house had the same simple yet modern design to it. The floors were in the same shade of marbled black with few specks of grey, the walls were white with a black wooden backsplash and one of them had the same full amount of windows which gave a beautiful view of the Upper East Side. There were various balconies connected to the walls but the biggest one was in the middle where some chairs were laid.

Y/N watched as a woman, probably middle aged, set the table. Just like the man who had brought her to the kitchen, she was dressed in sleek, working clothes with her hair held in a perfect bun up-do.

- I hope you like goat cheese and bistro salad, m’am. - she set a beautifully prepared plate in front of Y/N as she took a seat in the table. - I can prepare you something if you don’t like it, m’am.

- No, it’s beautiful, thank you so much. - yes, she was used to living in some sort of high fashion style due to the environment she had brought up with but this, this was different. This was expensive in all sorts, from how the employees dressed, to the way the food was presented. However, Y/N noticed that instead of being surrounded by other people eating like it would normally occur at her prior home, she was instead surrounded by staff watching her eat, no Sebastian in sight. - Is Mr. Stan not joining us for dinner?

- Oh no, m’am, Mr. Stan eats in his office. - the woman replied.

- What about you guys? Don’t you wanna eat?

- It’s fine, m’am. We’ll eat after you finish.

- Alright ... - Y/N pushed her plate slightly away from her, turning on her chair so she could face the two staff who were now staring at her as if she were any sort of threat. - Where me and Miss Forrest were raised, staff is treated just as well as family members. I don’t know what orders you follow from Mr. Stan but when you deal with me or Miss Forrest, you sit down and have dinner with us if you wish.

The dinner went a bit better after she gained some company. The staff was sweet, very professional still but sweet nevertheless. After dinner and fighting a bit with the woman named Anna so she could help with the dishes, Y/N decided to walk around the house. Gwen still hadn’t returned and despite her countless messages sent to her, they were seen but not replied to. Thankfully, Sebastian hadn’t left his office as promised which meant she only had to lie whenever any member of staff would ask if she needed something.

The penthouse was pretty much a regular place with more rooms than she could ever imagine with some being locked and others being open and perfectly decorated yet seemed to be non inhabited. However, what had sparked her interest was the very last room she checked. The room’s wall except for one were filled with book shelves which were filled itself with endless amounts of books. She looked around, wondering if someone was spying on her, before entering the room, her hands grabbing the first book she saw. The Great Gatsby. It sorta made her chuckle how that had been the first book she caught, the story of a wealthy man who lives by himself. The book itself was in rather good condition with the traditional blue cover with those unsettling eyes staring right back at her. She opened the book, her eyes going to the date of print making her realise what she was holding. April, 1925. A first edition.

- Looking for a good read, Miss Y/N? - she dropped the book out of surprise, not expecting the voice. Her head snapped in the sound’s direction, watching as Sebastian walked over to her, slowly crutching down to grab the book from the ground.

- Are these all yours? - this was the biggest self collection of books she’d ever seen, it was somewhat hard for her to wrap around her head it belonged to a single person, specially first editions.

- My father made sure I got an expensive education.

- Have you read all of these? - her eyes widen at the mere thought of it. Just reading one shelf of books looked like it would take at least five years, at beast.

- Not all of them ... some are in Greek. - he couldn’t help but be entranced by her as she lowered her head to hide the small smile that settled itself on her lips. - Are you one for reading?

- I majored in English Literature, reading was all I did for three years.

- Fits. - he put his hands on the pockets of his formal trousers. - You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Miss Y/N?

- I wouldn’t think of it, Mr. Stan. - Y/N wasn’t one for lying unless necessary, specially to someone who had a reputation for ignoring empathy and other human emotions.

- Where’s my fiancée, Miss Y/N? - the mere question knocked the air away from her. - And please do not use the same excuse you used with my staff. I know everything that goes on in this house and I know for a fact she’s not in her room.

- I ... I don’t know.

- I think you need to figure out where your loyalty lies, Miss Y/N. - he picked her chin, making sure she looked into his eyes. If there was something he knew was to intimidate someone with his gaze alone, however, she looked embarrassed to be caught in a lie rather than scared. - As my employee, you owe me your loyalty and the truth.

- My loyalty lies with Gwen ... not with you. - she took a step backwards. He sucked his teeth, arms crossed on his chest. - I don’t mean to disrespect you, Mr. Stan but ... Gwen’s my friend and my employee and I owe her my loyalty.

- You do realise that if Miss Forrest gets hurt it is you who’s gonna be held accountable.

- Please don’t be mad at Gwen. - she rubbed her arms. - She’s never really wanted to get married, at all, to no one. This is a bit of a change she has to adapt to.

- Don’t flatter yourself, angel. Genevieve Forrest is not exactly the type of woman I’d personally chose to be with but I’m not being childish about it. If you wanna have a good time under my employment then you better reconsider telling me the truth.

taglist: @sideeffectsofyou

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #mob!sebastian stan #mob!au #au!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan x reader

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cupidcreates · 4 years ago

Note

yay! I’m gonna rapid fire send a few short ones but there’s no rush in getting them all answered! okay so you’ve mentioned that suki’s love language is touch, but what about everyone else? -😌��

Ooooh! Good ask! I’m assuming you want the L.Y.E cast but I’ll add a few extra characters into the mix. I’ll do just the male characters for this post and do a female list at another time if y’all want it!

I also separated giving/receiving love languages because a few characters I feel would give love different to how they would like to receive it.

(Also this took SO LONG to finish I’m sorry for making you wait!)

Love Languages

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

Gives in Touch / Receives in Touch

Receiving: As I’ve said before, Bakugou’s love language is touch, and as I’ve also said he’s super uncomfortable with people touching him casually because he just expects physical contact to hurt in some way or another. So once he does get a SO it’ll take a while for him to open up to any sort of physical affection, especially in public. At the start of the relationship the best they’ll get is holding hands, and even that is more a possessive gesture than anything else, it’s meant to signal to anyone passing by that this person is his and his alone.

However, after a bit of time Bakugou will open up to his SO and allow himself to accept the affection they give. It’ll start with the hand holding, progress into accepting hugs without complaint, to even letting his SO play with his hair while he lays in their lap and tells them about his day. It’ll eventually become apparent that Katsuki loves to be touched, craves it even, though he’d never admit to this outright. It’ll take a while to get there but gain his trust and he’ll accept any sort of physical affection his SO has for him.

He’ll still never tolerate anything further than a chaste peck on the cheek in public though. He loves the gesture don’t get him wrong but Pro-Hero Ground Zero (Bars Dude ✌🏽) does have a reputation to uphold you know.

Giving: Katsuki loves to be touched sure but he also loves to touch. Similarly it’ll take time for him to get comfortable with giving physical affection but once there he can’t help but wrap himself around his SO nearly all the time.

If he’s out with them he’s got an arm around their shoulders or their waist.

If he’s home with them and they’re doing something he’s right there next to them, bumping shoulders so frequently he might as well just press himself to his SO and stay there. Or he’s behind them, arms wrapped around their waist and head on their shoulder watching whatever they’re doing.

If they’re laying down or relaxing in anyway he’s laying under them, next to them, on top of them, doesn’t matter to him as long as he’s there with them. Katsuki has never been good at expressing his feelings verbally, so he Koala’s himself to their form and just hopes all his emotions can transfer through his body and into theirs and they can understand how much he loves them.

🥦Izuku Midoriya🥦

Gives in Gifts & Words of Affirmation / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Listen, after a childhood full of being looked down on a belittled for being Quirkless, Deku has developed something of a mental blockage about his own self worth. The fact that the most common way for people to refer to Deku is as “The Plain One” doesn’t help his inferiority complex. Even after years of having One for All he still has lingering doubts about his capabilities and desirability.

So when his SO tells him something they like about him, even if it’s something as simple as “I like your outfit today” he is over the moon about it and won’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

He’s more than a little embarrassed about it, he thinks it makes him narcissistic and shallow in a way, but he simply can’t get enough of the praise his SO gives him (maybe or maybe not has a praise kink like who knows ya know).

It gives him a rush to hear it, to know that he means something to someone, to know he’s appreciated, loved, and desired by at least one person. A simple “I love you” is all he needs to make his day, any sort of affirmation is the highlight of his week and he craves it like a starving man craves food.

Giving: Izuku loves to compliment his SO, but he also tends to assume that they, unlike him, already know their value. He doesn’t think his words hold nearly as much weight to his SO as their words do for him. So while he’ll definitely lay on the verbal affection pretty thick he’ll also supplement it by going out of his way to never let a week pass without getting his SO a gift.

It’s usually something small, just something to let them know he was thinking about them throughout his day. Since Izuku never let his fanboy behavior of obsessively taking notes go, he definitely knows his SO’s favorite everything ever so they can expect to frequently receive their favorite candy, flowers, etc, on a regular basis.

❤🤍Shoto Todoroki🤍❤

Gives in Gifts & Quality Time / Receives in Gifts

Receiving: Now Gifts as a love language often get a bad rap for being the choice of the rich and materialistic; it’s seen as the shallowest of the love languages by a non-insignificant number of people. Shoto, however, is not interested in expensive and highly-sought after gifts like cutting-edge tech, lavish jewelry, or any other similar staples of wealth. He’s too used to his father getting him things like this to try and win his affection and display the affluence of the Todoroki family. No, Shoto’s not interested in that, Shoto loves gifts that indicate the giver was thinking about him.

What I mean by this is that if someone were to give Shoto a nice watch as a gift he’d say thank you and would definitely wear it but wouldn’t give it a second thought; but if someone where to give him something they hand crafted, like a painting, a ceramic vase, or hell even one of those shitty friendship bracelets everyone who went to bible camp had to make, Shoto would cherish it like it was his own child. He’d be up thinking about it for weeks, completely overwhelmed by the genuine love behind the gesture.

If his SO is not the creative type and isn’t prone to making things, they can still achieve this same affect by just getting him something he likes. Pop in to his agency with some cold Soba or his favorite candy? He’d be flustered to the point of needing to take his lunch break early just to calm down. To Shoto, the ultimate display of love is taking time out of one’s day to make him something or bring him something he enjoys.

Giving: As much as Shoto dislikes the giving of expensive gifts as a way of showing love, it’s really one of the only ways he knows how to express it. Gifts were they only way he was shown affection as a child, so gifts are the only language his brain really understands. He’ll get his SO anything they could possibly want, anything they even vaguely express the desire for they’ll have in a heartbeat.

His SO was talking about a cute outfit they saw the other day that was slightly out of their price range? Consider it theirs. Were they thinking about replacing their old laptop? He’d get them a new one shipped to their address in less than a week. Even if they just need their tires replaced Shoto wouldn’t hesitate to get it taken care of.

Naturally, this can be incredibly overwhelming and discomforting, especially if his SO isn’t wealthy to begin with. So when it becomes apparent that his SO is uncomfortable with this indulgence his backup way to show affection is to spend time with his SO. Shoto is an excellent listener, and there’s nothing he loves more than to listen to his SO tell him about their day.

Shoto is attached by the hip to his SO most days; when he’s not at work he’s with them, doing his best to fill their average days and menial tasks with fond memories together. He turns a regular night at home into a cluster of warm and loving moments by spending as much time with his SO as possible. He simply cannot fathom ever wanting to be apart from them.

💜Hitoshi Shinsou💜

Gives in Acts of Service / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Hitoshi Shinsou has a lot of self-doubt, even after years of training and proving to himself and others that yes he can and will become a Pro-Hero, he still cannot overcome the lingering sense of uncertainty about himself and his abilities. Imposter syndrome who? Hitoshi’s never met her and yet she lingers on his shoulders and weighs him down even after all these years.

So when Hitoshi does finally open up and start dating someone, he’s not entirely sure how to handle being frequently told that he’s loved. Being complimented on his appearance sure, he thinks he’s cute enough and dresses well; but being told something like “You did great on your last mission! You really handled the situation so well” or “Your cooking is excellent, you always know exactly what I like!” will send him into a mini identity crisis.

He never really thought he did anything exceptionally well, and yet here is this person telling him he’s doing everything exceptionally well? It doesn’t make sense to him but that doesn’t mean he won’t eat the praise up and revel in every kind word.

Giving: Hitoshi has spent so much time focused on his Hero Career, (working twice as hard for half the recognition someone with a flashier quirk would get, yes I’m still bitter) that he’s spent very little time getting to know other people. Mr. “I’m not here to make friends” has suffered in Human Interaction department because of this, getting close to other people is not his strong suit.

So once he does get an SO he’s not entirely sure how to let them know he loves them? Sure he can tell them but actions speak louder than words right? So he takes to doing things for them whenever he gets the chance. If they work at the same agency he’ll handle some of their paperwork for them. If they live together he’ll be sure to keep up on the laundry and dishes, even if he’s the one doing them most of the time. He doesn’t mind taking responsibility for the chores, it’s how he shows his love.

Hitoshi might not have the best intuition when it comes to other people but one thing he does know is that everyone likes to have their work load lightened, even if it’s only a little bit. So any chance he’s got to do that for his SO he’ll take it in a heartbeat.

⚡Denki Kaminari⚡

Gives in All of them / Receives in All of them (lmao)

Receiving: There’s no one more familiar with rejection on this list than Denki Kaminari. Much like Mirio he’s a natural flirt, but unlike Mirio he lacks the overwhelming brightness and charm that lights up the room the second he walks in. Because of this Denki has become rather close with the concept of being curved.

Denki doesn’t let it get him down; he’s got a very easy going personality, so it’s not like he’ll never find someone! It’s only a matter of time before he comes across someone who likes him for him, right?

That was easy to believe back at UA, but he’s an adult now with a flourishing career as a Pro-Hero and yet still can’t seem to find someone. The last thing he wants is for this to make him bitter and reserved, but it becomes increasingly difficult to deny that it hurts. Is there something wrong with him? He can’t help but feel like he’s just unpalatable to the majority of the population.

So when Denki does manage to find an SO he’s over the moon about it. He’s so desperate for any type of affection that he’s open to any kind of love his SO can give him. Is their language gifts or words of affirmation? He’ll cherish every present and kind word they can give him. Is their language Quality Time or Acts of Service? They can expect him to never leave their side, or to shower them with praise and thanks, never letting them forget how much he appreciates them and all they do for him. Is their love language touch? They’ll have full access to his body 24/7, anytime, any day, just say the word. Denki just wants to be loved so badly.

Giving: Just as Denki is open to receiving any kind of love, he’s also open to providing any kind of love. If his SO wants gifts he’ll go bankrupt just to shower them in any material possession they want. If they want his time he’ll give it to them, his touch his hands will never leave them. If they want his praise he’ll be sure to never shut up about them and their accomplishments, if they like acts of service than call him Nicki Minaj because yes he’ll do the cooking, yes he’ll do the cleaning.

Anything his SO wants he’ll do it for them, he’d let them walk on his face as they come in the door if they wanted to. He can’t stand the idea of his SO leaving him, he’d die before letting go of the love he has with them. He’s convinced that if they leave him he’ll never find it again, at the end of the day he might just be right.

💎Eijirou Kirishima💎

Gives in Words of Affirmation / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Eijirou Kirishima is not full of himself, not in the slightest, but that doesn’t stop him from getting butterflies every time someone compliments him (especially on his quirk or pro-hero work). He knows he’s not as flashy as others in his field, but he’s making due with what he has. If anything, he’d just like to have his hard work recognized every now and again.

Eijirou dislikes that his love language is words of affirmation, but he can’t deny the fuzzy feelings he gets when his SO praises him, or compliments him, or even just tells him they love him. Much like Denki, Eijirou just needs to be loved to feel fulfilled, and he’s not one to question the motives of the people he cares about. So just telling him how appreciated and loved he is will make him believe it. Just being the world to one person is enough for him.

Giving: Likewise, Kirishima will give back all his lover gives him tenfold. He knows there’s not enough kindness in the world so any chance he gets to tell his SO how wonderful they are and how much he appreciates them he’ll take it. Kirishima loves to see his lovers face light up when they receive a compliment from him, even if its something small like how nice they look that day. It’s like an addiction, he can’t get enough of the pure unadulterated joy.

🥢Tamaki Amajiki🥢

Gives in Words of Affirmation / Receives in Quality Time

Receiving: Tamaki Amajiki is an introvert, that much is readily apparent after meeting him for the first time. He wouldn’t call himself a loner per say, he just prefers solitude to spending time in big social groups. He’s got a very small social battery, it gets depleted very quickly and takes a while to re-charge.

So when Tamaki’s SO offers to spend some time with him and a day he had scheduled to be alone he’s every so slightly disgruntled about it. He loves his SO with all his being but he really does need the time alone.

Of course he can’t turn them down though, so he just makes peace with the fact that he’ll have to re-work his brain to get into the “human interaction” mode again for a while longer that day.

That is, until it becomes apparent that actually he loves to be alone with his SO. Anything he had planned for that day is made infinitely better with their presence. Anything from reading, to shopping, to just cleaning house, he’s not sure how they do it but the tasks just somehow become exponentially more palatable and enjoyable with his SO around.

Tamaki quickly starts to take little blocks out of his day just to spend with his SO, even if it’s just something small like getting a coffee together and chatting for twenty minutes outside the café. Life is just better with his SO around, easier with them around, and he every time he has to leave he’s counting the minutes till he can come back and see them again.

Giving: Tamaki has never been good with words, but that doesn’t stop him from needing to shower his SO in praise and love. He just can’t hold back whenever he sees them, he has to pay them a compliment on something, even if it’s just what scarf they chose to wear that day. He just needs them to know that he sees them, sees the effort they put in every day, and admires their dedication and work ethic.

Tamaki hates that his stutter gets in the way of this, but another thing he loves about his SO is that they never seem to mind. They don’t get irritated with him about it, nor do they tell him to just spit it out. It really helps his anxiety and nervousness and he can’t help but bring it up every time they meet as well. He knows he sounds like a broken record, but it kills him inside to think of his SO going even one day without knowing how wonderful and special they are to him.

☀Mirio Togata☀

Gives in Quality Time & Touch / Receives in Quality Time

Receiving: Much unlike his best friend Tamaki, Mirio is an extrovert through and through. He loves spending time with people and can’t get enough of being around them. He’s invigorated by company and is always open to making new friends.

That being said he also makes it a point to make time for the most important people in his life, and the best way to let him know that he’s cared for is to return the gesture. Nothing excites Mirio more than getting a text or a call from a loved one inviting him out to spend time with them. He’s so ecstatic that someone would not only be thinking of him, but actually want to take time out of their day to see him. Just wanting to be around him is the quickest way to his heart.

Giving: Mirio loves spending Quality Time with his SO, not a week goes by that he doesn’t plan a date with them. He pulls out all the stops as well, romantic picnics atop a hill, stargazing on the roof, catching a movie, or even just going to the beach for an afternoon. Mirio will never cheapen out on a date, he wants the time with his SO to be memorable so he’ll put his heart and soul into treating his SO right while out with them.

Mirio has also gained the reputation of a flirt, and for good reason. He’s incredibly charismatic and charming, the only thing smoother than his words and cheesy one-liners is his hands. He keeps them soft and moisturized so he can run them over his SO’s body with little to no resistance.

Mirio loves capital L LOVES touching his SO. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t have his hands on them if he can help it. He wants his SO to feel cared for, appreciated, and above all loved to the highest degree, and if that means he gets to grope them for hours on end to prove that then so be it. If his extended deep tissue massage ends up getting more physical than he had first intended it to be than no one will hear him complaining about it. It definitely wasn’t his plan in the first place...

🦅Keigo Takami🦅

Gives in Touch & Gifts / Receives in Touch

Receiving: Keigo’s had a hard life, which is to be expected of a man taken in by the Hero Commission at such a young age and essentially turned into a pawn. He’s not used to letting people get close to him, for both their safety as well as his own.

It’s highly unlikely that he’d end up with and SO, but Keigo’s never been good at telling himself no, so should he find someone he really wants to pursue he’ll do it, consequences be damned.

Keigo’s never had a normal romantic relationship with someone, but it doesn’t take long for him to find out that his favorite part of it is being physically intimate with his SO. He loves having their hands all over him, it sets his skin alight and electrifies him in a way he’s never felt before.

Touching doesn’t have to just be sexual either, he can spend just as long cuddling with them, wrapping them in his arms and dwarfing them as he covers them with his wings.

Speaking of his wings, he absolutely loves when his SO touches them. He leaves a feather or two with them every day, just so he can always be touching them in one way or another. He loves to be on patrol and feel them gently stroking it, running their fingertips over it or brushing it across their skin. He nearly plummeted out of the air the first time he felt them kiss it. Keigo would rather pluck each and every feather out of his back one by one than not be able to touch his SO again, he couldn’t even bear the thought of losing their physical affection.

Giving: Keigo isn’t one to take without giving back, so touch for touch Keigo will match his partners affections. He’s definitely into body worship and can spend hours on end just running his hands over their body, mapping every inch of them under his palms. His favorite pass-time is to sit and massage his partners back and shoulders while they tell him about their day. Any excuse to have his hands on his SO he’ll take it.

Keigo sometimes doesn’t feel like that’s good enough though, he feels like when he offers touch as a form of love he’s simply offering himself to his SO. That just won’t do for Keigo, that’s just not enough in his mind. To him it’s pompous to assume that he’d be enough for anyone at all, no matter how much is SO might tell him differently.

So to supplement this he’ll shower his SO in gifts, often of the more expensive variety. What’s the point of being a famous and wealthy pro hero if he can’t spoil the people he loves. He definitely has some bird like tendencies as well so his SO can expect to get a lot of random gifts with “It was shiny and I thought you’d like it” as they explanation behind it.

🔥Touya Todoroki🔥

Gives in Acts of Service & Touch / Receives in Acts of Service

Receiving: Listen, Touya is used to people only doing things for him out of hear or because they need something from him in return. He ran away from home and was presumed dead from a pretty young age, so he’s had alot of time to figure out that if he wants something done he’s either doing it himself or threatening someone to do it for him. People don’t do things for Touya because they like Touya, they do it because they fear Dabi.

So when he, against his very nature, decides to settle into a relationship with someone he’s not entirely sure how affection is displayed between partners. So he’s reasonably skeptical when his SO starts to just do random nice things for him, like cleaning up a mess he’d left for later or bringing him dinner when they knew he missed lunch and breakfast.

He just can’t fathom why his SO would do something like this on a whim, and just decides to bring up that if they needed him to do something for them, they didn’t have to butter him up like everyone else did. Needless to say he was surprised when they told him they just do these things for him because they love him.

Well he’s not entirely sure about that but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth now has he? Since they last person to genuinely give a shit about him was his mother Rei and brother Natsuo he’s not about to let someone who says they love him go. Especially not if they continue to do nice things for him.

Giving: Touya Todoroki would never deny being an absolute asshole, he just doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything most of the time. That being said, he’s not one to be in debt to anyone either. If his SO is performing acts of service for him then dammit he’s going to do the same.

He can’t help with things like house work (not that he would if he could) but he can definitely do things a little more underhanded than what his SO is comfortable with. Should his SO need something they can’t afford they can consider it theirs as long as they don’t ask where it came from. If they’re having trouble with someone at work, be it a manager or just a co-worker, they needn’t worry about it for long. Again, just don’t ask where that person might have gone off to...

Another thing about Touya is that he despises being touched, absolutely hates having anyone's hands on him for almost any reason. If you’re not fucking then don’t touch him without expecting fiery repercussions.

That being said, Touya also knows (or at least he assumes?) that most healthy couples enjoy touching one another, even when they’re not fucking. So he’ll suck it up for his SO and let them cuddle into him on a cold night, but he’ll make it a point to bitch about it the entire time.

🎮Tomura Shigaraki🎮

Gives in Quality Time and Acts of Service / Receives in Touch

Receiving: For very obvious reasons Tomura Shigaraki does not touch people, not unless he intends to harm them of course. His biggest fear is hurting someone he cares about simply because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Fortunately for him he rarely lets anyone get close enough for this to be a persistent problem for him, occupational hazard of being a villain you know; but should he manage to find himself an SO he’ll quickly be overwhelmed by the need to touch them in some way or another. Even if it’s just letting them sit in his lap for a minute, he desperately needs to be in contact with this person who (against their better judgement, in his own opinion) has seen past his flaws and enjoys being around him.

A loophole is quickly found though, he can’t touch his SO, but his SO can certainly touch him. He absolutely loves it when they do it as well, any sort of physical affection he eats up with a rabid fervor. It can be something as simple as brushing their knuckles across the back of his neck as they pass behind him that’ll make him go absolutely feral. Their touch is like a drug and Tomura is hooked.

Giving: While Tomura would love to express his affection with touch he’s really just not able to do so without getting sick with anxiety. So instead he makes sure to spend as much time around his SO as possible. Being a villain gives him quite a lot of down time, these evil plots don’t just appear out of thin air! So while he is planning his next move he goes out of his way to include his SO, or at least make sure he’s near them while doing so.

Having his SO around near constantly not only ensures that they’re safe but also helps to make the time he has to spend around the rest of the LOV more bearable. His SO really is the only person he can tolerate for an extended period of time.

That being said, should his SO need help with anything Tomura will gladly oblige. He’s not one to help with dishes or cleanup, but say his SO needs someone to disappear quickly? He’s got no issue getting his hands dirty and reducing said person to dust. Tomura would dust the entire world if it meant his SO would be happy.

#answered #love langauges #mha #bnha #katsuki bakugo #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #eijiro kirishima #tamaki amajiki #mirio togata #keigo takami #touya todoroki #dabi #tomura shigaraki #extra stuff #headcanon #ask prompt

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manychocolatefactories · 4 years ago

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CatCF Milk Chocolate: Part 1, the kids

About this version: Milk Chocolate was inspired originally by a mix of the book, the vibes of the 1971 movie and the Tim Burton movie aesthetic. A bit more goofier and whimsical than the other versions. In term of era, I thought of it as a mix of 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.

In this version seven Golden Tickets are spread throughout the world, and each time one is found the same female reporter (her character is a reference to the musical) goes to interview the children. Another recurring joke is that while the hunt is going on for the Tickets, there are all sorts of ridiculous debates on television such as: do the Golden Tickets really exist, or is this just a hoax ? Do the Golden Tickets give cancer? Can animals go on a tour like humans? What happens if a Golden Ticket winner dies before the tour? Are the Golden Tickets linked to the rise of youht delinquence? Are the Golden Tickets a proof of Wonka's alleagiance to the obscure sect of the Golden Bird?

First Winner: Augustus Gloop

(Based on Augustus Gloop)

This Augustus was actually based on an idea Stained-by-the-sea allowed me to "borrow" a bit. Stained noted that Augustus always made him thought of this section from the movie "North", about Buck and the Texan parents. If you don't know what I am talking about, I'll leave links down there. And this is such a perfect matc I had to dig a bit down there.

This Augustus is basically a mix of all the archetypes associated with Texas and Nevada. But more precisely, he is basically "Buck" from North - a boy whose family (and his own mindset) embody the motto "bigger is better".

The Gloop family always thought that they should be "the biggest and the bests" and that "bigger is better". Ironically, the Gloop parents themselves are regular-sized people, but they clearly enforced this mentality on their son. Augustus is a big boy. Literally. He is tall, he is thick, he is fat, he is very, very big. He is probably one of the tallest, and definitively the largest boy on the tour (in fact, he once or twice gets stuck in the doors of Wonka factory). He eats ten meals per day, and we are not talking of regular sized meals. We are talking piles of ribs, kilos of potatoes, entire chickens... His parents also prepared for him a "big" and "best" future - paying the local sportive teams to claim he is a sports champion despite Augustus never setting a foot on a sports field, arranging his marriage with the local beauty queen of the state he lives in, already preparing the three different houses he will live with his fifteen kids... As a result, Augustus isn't just big and fat physically, he also has a massive and bloated ego. He thinks that he is the best at everything, and that he should have absolutely everything he wants.

The Gloops themselves are actually the masters of the state they live in, so to speak. They are the wealthiest and most influential industrials of the area: they built highways, casinos, hotels, private villas, they are cow-farmers, owing a lot of slaughterhouses, and also dig for oil and gold. They want their business to be the "biggest there ever was" and all they do is exaggerately big: their villas are enormous, their hotels are everywhere, their farms hosts several thousands cows, their mines are among the deepest in the world...

Trouble is that, due to their expansion and consumption of everything, they are a threat to the landscape and the environment - destroying forests to build their roads and buildings, drying out the lands to feed their farms... in fact, part of the reason why their state looks like the most desertic parts of Texas and Nevada is due to their actions.

Think... Buck from North. Think Art Land from Mar Attack. Think an evil (and obese) version of Clay Bailey from "Xiaolin Showdown". In fact, if I remember well in one episode Clay turns into a sumo for one of the Showdowns... this would probably be Augustus' appearance in this version: sumo Clay Bailey. (Edit: Yes, I checked out, it is episode 23 of the series).

Second Winner: Clarence Crump

(Based on: Clarence Crump)

Clarence didn't had any kind of personnality in the original drafts outside of a desire to prove he was right. As a result, I decided to have a lot of fun and create my own character.

The idea of vanity has already been touched several times with the other brats, but I wanted to give it its own character and kid. I also wanted to create a polar opposite of Augustus, denouncing the fact that being skinny can be just as bad as being fat when in excess. As a result, Clarence Crump is here a boy obsessed about being thin, and proud of being too skinny for his own good.

Mr. Crump is a pseudo-health guru that keeps writing phony and very dangerous diet books, the kind that will advice you to stop eating altogether to lose weight. As for Mrs. Crump, she is a beauty pageant champion (local and regional, and while she acts as if she was some national beauty champion, she always failed at nationals). From their union was born a child who inherited their vanity, pride and obsession with "health"

Black haired, very pale, very thin, very slender, to the point his bones show, Clarence delights in being skinny, and works as a teenager model promoting the "thin-fashion". He is also the embodiment of fat-shaming, never missing an occasion to insult fat people (in fact he often calls Augustus a big fat cow). He uses however the excuse of health for that (a trick his parents taught him) - promoting extreme thinness by talking about health and fat-shaming people in the name of health allows one to be much more horrible than normally accepted.

A good proof of how Clarence actually is just very vain and obsessed with being thin, and not at all defending health - Clarence condemns sports for being unhealthy, because according to him "muscles are unhealthy because they don't make you look beautiful, they make you look ugly".

He always wears short and black sleeveless tank-tops, the point being that he needs to show as much as his body to the world as possible, to be a "living example". He even wears his black short and tank-top during the tour (despite it being winte - the only thing he wears on top of his clothes to not get cold is a skunk fur coat).

Third Winner: Miranda Grope

(Based on: Miranda Grope)

This character was based on Dahl's own character of "Miranda Grope" from early drafts of the story, the horrible and atrocious girl allowed to do "whatever she wants".

In my version, the Grope parents are hippie-like people, the father having a very long beard and being covered in fleas, while the mother is covered in flowers and oss (plants that grew over her), and both always wearing rose-tinted glasses. They are the kind of parents that refuse authority and orders, seeing these (and social norms as a whole) as a "dictatorship". They prefer to trust their daughter to find her own way in the world, believing that experience is the best teacher in life. The result? They lazily raised her by telling her they would never forbid her anything and that she could do anything she wanted.

Miranda is a devilish little girl who does only what she wants, and becomes extremely violent when prevented from doing something. Or when people say something she doesn't want to hear. Or just when people she dislikes are near her. She shouts, the screams, she insult, she kicks, she hit, she throw enormous and terrifying tantrums. She has a very wide range of insults, and a truly evil mind : most of the things she wants to do are borderline crimes. It seems for her only chaos and destruction is "fun", a true little punk.

Miranda has a disastrous haircut because she cuts her hair herself, and she is always wearing the same clothes that she rarely washes): a white shirt, a blue sweater with long sleeves, and a plaid tiles skirt. An outfit that looks strikingly like a school uniform - but it is pure irony, because Miranda hates more than anything in the world school. She doesn't go to school, and the only time she went near one was to try to burn it down. (Her appearance is in fact based on Lauren Child's illustrations for Miranda, if you are wondering).

Fourth Winner: Veruca Salt

(Based on: Veruca Salt)

For this Veruca, I wanted to do something slightly different... here, Veruca doesn't want everything just because she is a spoiled rich brat. She is still one, but she is also the product of post-WW2 consumerism.

This Veruca was born surrounded by advertisements, logos, slogans and product placements. On television, in the streets, in shops, in journals, at the radio... She grew up with them and was influenced, brainwashed by them. As a result, she is obsessed with obtaining everything that was advertised, and she herelf looks like a walking billboard since she is covered in big, flashy logo and keeps reciting different brands' slogans and mottos. As soon as she sees something she saw publicity of before, she needs to obtain it at once. She is a true zombie, only hearing the call of the shopping mall and of the television advertisements.

One idea I had was that the Salt parents actually worked for (or where at the head of) a wealthy advertisement company, known to produce, design and create all kinds of famous publicities and slogans - and that they used their daughter as a guinea pig for their tests, and delighted in Veruca being so addicted to consumerism. In fact, they may have named her Veruca because at the moment of her birth they were working on advertisements for an anti-wart product, so that's all they had in mind.

Fifth winner: Herpes Trout

(Based on: Mike Teavee)

I went with this version of Mikee Teavee with the focus on "violence" already present in the original work, but also heavily used in the opera (and touched a bit in the 2005 movie).

This Herpes Trout is the embodiment of the fear of kids becoming violent upon watching television and playing video games (his only two passions in life). He has a true fascination with guns and firearms - US soldiers shooting aliens, gangs shooting each other, cowboys shooting at bandits, it's all he ever plays and watches. Herpes worships violence, and is absolutely obsessed with war (here I am thinking of all the wars present from the 60s to the 80s, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Glasgow Ice Cream Wars...). War propaganda and the fight being glorifyed heavily influenced him - as a result his biggest dream is to go at war in some foreign country to kill everyone there and come home a hero.

Herpes comes from a family of rednecks and hillbillies from the deep country. They are not poor however, they are wealthy enough to have television and several video games, but they are uneducated people full of stereotypes, discrimination and hate. They named their son Herpes because they ignored what it meant but just thought of it as an "intelligent" name. Herpes has everal brothers and sisters, and all have a disease name.

Herpes himself is a big and strong kid, who followed body-buildings process a la Charles Atlas and military training, becoming impressively muscular. However, he retained a soft, childish and chubby "baby face", which kind of ruins the effect of this massive, muscular, almost adult body. Always dressed in a military outfit, he carries everywhere with him guns and firearms, the question being: are they real? Or are they not?

Sixth Winner: Violet Glockenberry

(Based on Violet Beauregarde)

I wanted with this version to take back the idea of a competitive and "sportive" girl obsessed with contesting and winning - introduced in the Tim Burton movie.

This Violet is a tall, muscular and strong girl. She won numerous sportive competitions, but this doesn't make her just arrogant and prideful like in the Tim Burton version. In my version she is also very aggressive and violent (a bit like in the original novel). She is a nasty and rude bully easily prone to anger (in fact, if she keeps chewing gum it is mostly to calm her down sot hat she doesn't punch everyone around). Her parents originally pushed her towards competitions to manage her anger issues, but sports only gave her more strength and destructive power. In fact, they became terrified of her, while she considers them losers here to serve her - she basically thinks of herself as self-made, literaly.

Seventh Winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on: Charlie Bucket)

For this Charlie, I wanted to go with a Charlie similar to the original illustrations of the character: blond hair, blue eyes, a white boy...

Basically, he is the original Charlie. Very sweet, very innocent, a gentle kid, the best of the group.

However I changed slightly his background. Charlie in this version is not the grandson of four grandparents, but rather the big brother of four younger siblings - and his family here struggles with trying to feed five children (and a total of seven mouths) despite having very humble and low-paid jobs. I think Charlie has taken the role of a parentive figure for the siblings, but at the same time him spending so much time with young children helped him keep in touch with his "childish" side.

#charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf #milk chocolate #retelling #charlie bucket #violet beauregarde #mike teavee #augustus gloop #veruca salt #miranda grope #clarence crump

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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago

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IBRAHIM JARVIS —

IG info/bio: @/OFFICIALRAHIMJARVIS | 130k followers | pro🏌🏿, & yes i was on that dating show...don’t obsess over other people, obsess over water, stay hydrated friends!

22 (23) years old

From Birmingham, England

Pisces sun? + Virgo moon + Cancer rising

Parents are both Afro-Antiguan and Barbudans + migrated to The UK once they were pregnant with their first child

They’ve been married for over 20 years

He gets his height from both of his parents

His mother keeps her hair buzzed short, cooks the best Antiguan food + loves creole seasoning, she’s 5’11, & works as a bank teller

His father is 6’5, works as a substance a*use counselor & does not believe in tough love as a way of showing you care about your children. He learned that the hard way growing up

Ibrahim is a pro golfer & dislikes tiger woods, “he’s a proper arsehole, typical American yeah?”

Got into the craft thanks to his maternal grandfather who was also into golf along with other sports & taught him all he needed to know. At first Ibrahim didn’t like it, found it rather boring & would rather stick to video gaming but his grandfather wanted to break his grandchildren out of staying in the house all the time

It kept him fit and also relieved any anxiety Ibrahim had in life and he had a good amount

He’s got an incredible swing, thanks to his long arms

He’s 6’3

Has three older brothers: Jesse (27) , Keithroy (25), and Reuben (24)

He loves working out and spotting other people, feels likes it’s a team effort & he’s a team player

Drinks gallons of water on a daily and nothing else, it’s even better if he puts fruit in it

Always eating fruit, for breakfast/with or after his dinner. Rather eat fruits than vegetables...yes he’s an adult but he can’t stand broccoli or radishes

Canon: hates seeing other people test their fruit to see if it’s ripe or not. But it’s fine when he does it himself, he just thinks about all the germs that are on other peoples hands when they’re doing so; it physically makes him sick & irritated if he ends up touching the fruit that’s mushy/lumpy

He’s a big fan of comics. Always has been since he’s a kid and has a huge collection of them, his oldest ones are packed away in a couple of crates (in his loft room that he uses as a extra storage room) since he no longer has space in his room. Yes he has no shame (and shouldn’t) of having them on display even tho his oldest brothers clown him for it

Massive fan of black panther & was hyped when it first came to theaters. Saw it three times in one day

Was heartbroken when Chadwick Boseman p*ssed

He’s awkward at expressing himself & sometimes it makes him feel misunderstood & it’s frustrating

Hates people that come up with these ideas of him instead of allowing him to collect his thoughts and speak them the right way

Yet he can be the type of person that wants to ignore issues and hope they go away

He wishes people had enough patience like he did with others in the world

He seeks advice from his dad, since he’s a counselor & everything yet it’s slightly different?

Can be a sweetie & very romantic in relationships

Will do the most (he won’t see it that way) & drop $ on you if he wants to...buying things, trying & failing to DIY, doing wealthy ppl shit, expensive trips— canon: taking his girl to Spain? Was it? Or Italy? I don’t remember... the whole 9

Had 1 gf before the villa. He broke up with her for being too flashy with his things & found that she wouldn’t have liked him if he didn’t have a bit of money

His parents live with him. “They’re basically my roommates until or if they find a house they like.” He didn’t go overboard once he got his first paycheck, he didn’t need a mansion but he did go big enough, industrial style but homey with some minor modern touches for his dream home—he didn’t want it to feel cold or penthouse-like

Isn’t too flashy on the socials but will post something every now & then if he feels the need to show it

Doesn’t post much of his face, mostly what he’s doing in the moment...lots of golfing pics!

Dresses like a dad but it works for him. Loves a good snug polo & plaid trousers/regular that are cut above the ankle, “those are highwaters innit?!” “No mum, it’s the style.” Rolled up jeans, tall white socks & some patterned, baggy sweaters, fancy hats, picks oxfords over sneakers, etc...

Definitely takes the time to iron/steam/press his underwear & socks

Enjoys getting his hair braided, isn’t tender-headed at all (must be nice)

Only grows his hair out during the fall/winter seasons or cuts/gets a shape up

When he posts about his tournaments or time at the golf course, he can always count on Bobby to comment the usual... @/returnofdamckenzie: do you ever have moments where you Reenact troy bolton on the lovely green grass? @/officialrahimjarvis: Idk whether to block u or have a laugh mate, yes i had to look him up!

Dated Jo for about 5 months after the villa until she broke up with him, finding that their lifestyles were too hectic for them to continue, at least that was her public statement to the fans but they really grew apart & the “love” was no longer there

Ibrahim seemed to be more upset about it than Jo in the beginning resulting in snappy replies for awhile, which again stems from him not knowing how to express himself

She checked up on him A LOT, almost as if they never broke up but Ibrahim felt like he needed his space now. They talked it out the best they could over dinner and got closure but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. He just didn’t think it was needed to be calling each other everyday to see how they were both holding up. If they were done, then that’s what they should be

Jo didn’t see it that way. She still cared for Ibrahim, that didn’t mean that they had to stop talking in her view. She wanted to know how he was coping, and was known for “sticking her foot in her mouth” so that was also a flaw in their relationship

She would say certain things that touched on how she was feeling but didn’t express them at the right times & then there was Ibrahim who didn’t know HOW to say the things he felt which left jo to assume things

Ibrahim was back to the single life and he hated it. He wanted someone he could come back home to, someone that wanted to be with him for the long run. A part of him feels like Jo wasn’t planning to be with him for the long run in the first place and in a way that was okay? Sometimes you don’t know where you’re going in relationships but there should be some sort of goal? Maybe? At least that’s what he thought. Yeah they had fun but he wanted more someday

He was still young he didn’t need to be hung up about it right? Sike. He didn’t know how to take things lightly. That wasn’t how he was built. And to get comments about his ex relationship and have fans dragging him about his choices in the villa A YEAR later!!! Was disheartening

Shannon seemed to be doing well. He thought they would still be friends, at least that’s what she showed before she left the villa. Before he got her dumped. They talked a couple of times since then, jo personally wasn’t a fan of that—Shannon didn’t care but it was clear there was some tension still there

Until he contacted her just to realize she probably had his number blocked but her IG was public and she had a new man & was traveling about

His dad and Reuben were the only ones rooting for them

He had no choice but to be happy for her. Who was he to come in between that? Not that he wanted to but it’s a natural reaction to wonder after a fresh breakup, “what if?”

Talks to Priya every so often now. He seems to find comfort in her, it’s the same for her on her end

His mother has a feeling Priya is the one her son will end up with. Even if she is older...Keithroy also liked her the best

While Jesse seemed to be the only one who supported his relationship with jo

I honestly thought he would have liked Hannah in the beginning but idk if it was him or Gary that said she was too unrealistic when it came to love? I think they both said something along those lines which is odd since it seems Ibrahim has no problem treating his girl like a princess

Probably only has one special dish that he can cook the best & it’s gumbo. otherwise hes out of the kitchen or having his personal chef cook for the family

Goes live on twitch—when he has time, playing many games with the boys from the villa, which pleases the fans

Talks to them all as much as he can

Noah seems to be the first to always text back since Bobby is the one who’ll start off responding in minutes then forget to text back cause he’s off doing handstands or booping people on the nose or some shit, Gary always ends up busy doing something with his nan or for Lottie—but Noah’s always around

They seem to be the closest outside the villa, they mesh well & hang out the most when they can

he likes having his sound on & LOUD when he texts! There’s something so satisfying about hearing the clicking of texting to him

Watches a lot of sports on the Telly, it doesn’t have to be just golf. Usually watching that sport sends him right to sleep while the others keep him active/vocal...yes he’s a tv yeller

Holds sports parties at his home & invites all of his family & mates, he HATES having to clean up afterwards. If it wasn’t for his mum he would save the cleaning until the next day yet he doesn’t mind cleaning his car twice a week

Continues to make his violet man drink & wouldn’t be opposed to someone giving him a endorsement deal for it

Is the “I love everybody!” Drunk

Enjoys yard work over cleaning the house

Has his own customized golf cart that he keeps in his garage

He likes driving that more than his Buick suv tbh

Wants kids some day, not too many, not too little just right— he’ll probably have two but for rn his Doberman pinscher is his bby

Either ends up with Priya with slight insecurities that she’s too good for him or he falls in love with a tennis player, either way I’m fine with both

Crushes/his type? : Jojo Levesque, SERENA WILLIAMS, China McClain, Brie Larson, Victoria Pedretti, Nathalie Emmanuel, & Keke Palmer

Listens to: Aminé, Big Sean, Frank Ocean, Brent Faiyaz, Pink $weats, B Young, Ali Gatie, Russ, Raveena, Jessie Reyez, Rayana Jay, Cosima, TianaMajor9 etc...

Anthem = Lucky Daye, “Buying Time”

#litg #litg2 #litg s2 #litg ibrahim #litg jo #litg shannon #litg priya #litg au #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #litg Bobby #litg noah #litg rahim

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vixey-chakraborty · 3 years ago

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The Investment [Part One] & [Vixmus]

In which Vixey reaches out to a family friend for an investment...[takes place: late June, 2021]

@apennywasted

[tw -- none]

VIXEY: While Vixey trusted Jun’s judgement, she was still nervous to meet with Seamus MacTunnag. Even if she did know him through her parents, it only put more pressure on her to come off well. Since this meeting would reflect on them too. If he said no, she wasn’t sure where she would go next. Probably to InterPride. That was her next stop anyway, as she had to discuss the lease agreement. Or maybe this would just be a dead end. Vixey was still waiting for all of this to fall apart on her. Even if she did feel slightly bolstered by her various friends’ encouragement.

She had called Mr. MacTunnag and arranged to meet him at Hatter’s. It was a nice day, so she bought herself an iced coffee and sat out on the patio. When she saw him approaching, she stood up, reaching out a hand for him to shake.

“Mr. MacTunnag,” she greeted him with a smile. “Thank you so much for meeting with me. I really appreciate you taking the time. Can I buy you a coffee?” [outfit]

SEAMUS: Seamus had a visitor today, and it was one he knew fairly well, through her parents. They lived close to one another, their properties while not sharing a border fairly close, and he’d become fairly friendly with her parents after a bit of time living in Besydus. Rather than meet her on her farm, however, Vixey had asked him to meet her at Hatter’s for a discussion regarding her shoppe.

While he was all too happy to oblige her, he needed to know what she was asking him, specifically, to invest in.

Arriving a bit earlier than intended, Seamus had wanted to get a seat but had discovered that Vixey had beat him to Hatter’s already. He offered her a small smile when she stood and offered her hand for a shake. He took it, shook her hand firmly, before dropping her hand, unbuttoning his suit jacket, and sitting across from her.

“Ah, that'd be lovely Ms. Chakraborty, thank ye kindly. Jus’ a regular coffee is fine, nothin’ fancy. But, I s’pose we should get right tah th’ point, aye?”

VIXEY: “Great,” Vixey said with a smile. “I’ll be right back and we can get started.”

Vixey didn’t really want to “get right to the point,” but maybe that was just how she grew up. If you had a favor to ask someone, you started with pleasantries and worked your way towards asking after a long and meandering conversation. Vixey asking about Seamus grand-nephews (I know they have a birthday coming up!) Seamus commenting on the farm (It looks like you have a good crop of strawberries this season.)

Seamus was a businessman, though. It made sense they were going to “get right to the point.”

She grabbed the coffee and made it back to the table in just a few minutes. A few minutes that had filled her with jittery anxiety as she handed Seamus his coffee and took a seat again.

“Right, so, I don’t know how much my mama has told you…” Vixey started and wondered if that was a good place. Maybe not. Maybe she shouldn’t assume anything. Her fingers fiddled with the cardboard cozy on her drink.

“I am looking to open up a shoppe here on Main Street. A thrift shoppe.”

SEAMUS: He knew that it was not how people in Swynlake did business, getting right down to the heart of the matter. That was the way of businessmen in New York and Japan, people he had worked with who didn’t do roundabout or meandering business deals. It was easier, sometimes, to do things this way. Other times, like now, it might behoove him to do otherwise, but he wasn’t about to change his tactics in the middle of the situation.

Vixey left and then she came back with his coffee and Seamus smiled. He thanked her. He was polite, took a sip of the coffee and nodded to tell her that it was alright. There was nothing complicated in it, and that was the way he liked these dealings, if he could get them this way. He didn’t mean to be abrupt, or forward. Any other time he would ask how the farm was doing, and had, how she was personally, and he still might, but he wanted to hear what she wanted, too.

And that always, always came first.

Seamus waited for her, patient, hands folded around the cardboard cozy around his take away mug. She started by talking about her mam and he grinned his crooked grin at her, the one that was, some would say, charming and others disarming. To him, it was just a smile.

“Yer mam’s spoken a bit about ye, told me yer lookin’ tah expand out a bit,” he confirmed, then continued. “But I’d like tah know what yer wantin’ tah do with yer thrift shoppe, what I could be investin’ in. ‘S a smart idea, considerin’ th’ closest clothing shoppe is in NTO.”

VIXEY: You would think people continuously telling her that her shoppe was a good idea would make Vixey feel more confident in it. In a way, it did, but she kept being more caught off guard by the see through nature of business dealings. It wasn’t all like in the movies, which made it look dastardly and underhanded.

Seamus knew why he was here, and he was getting right to the point. Vixey had to shuffle the notecards in her head around to accommodate for this fact. She took a sip of tea, wiggled in her seat a bit and then leaned over to pull out the binder she had been using to store all the notes and information on the shoppe. Inside was a bit of an aesthetic lookbook, pulled from magazines and Pinterest. Notes from several business start up how-to books, color coded by content and with a proper bibliography. There was a budget too, though probably not fully complete.

“This is all I have on it so far,” she told him, pushing it toward him. “It’s simple, really. In concept. I just—noticed the lack of shopping and know how inconvenient that can be for families who aren’t as wealthy as some of the others in town. It kind of feels as if they can get left behind a bit…” She shrugged a shoulder.

“I know I have competition with Tallulah Robinson, but I have a feeling we will be catering to very different needs in the town.” She wished she sounded more certain about this, but she was really just parroting what everyone else had told her.

SEAMUS: Seamus waited patiently for Vixey to get her wiggles out, the nerves clear. She probably hadn't been expecting him to be so to the point. That was okay. It meant he would be able to make an offer sooner, see what he could give to this project. He had high hopes for it, based on both what her mother had spoken of when they'd chatted and now.

He was impressed when she pulled the binder out and set it on the table. His hands itched to leaf through it, see what information hid there, but he waited, waited patiently, his hands folded around his coffee. He would let her speak, and then he would look through it all and respond.

The lookbook made him chuckle and he nodded as he skimmed through it. It was a good idea, a way to visualize the projected space, what she wanted to do with the business. Gave investors a sense she knew where she was headed. Her notes were good, too, the bibliography helpful.

Then, there was the budget. That's where he came in.

Closing the binder, Seamus tapped his knuckles against the cover, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gave her a small smile. "This 's all good. Yer clearly prepared or as much as ye can be. Budget's incomplete, though I think yer aware. 'S where I come in ain't it?"

Seamus knew it was.

"Ye an' Miss Robinson will be catering tah different ideals," he agreed, matter-of-fact. "And tah be honest, I think yer shoppe has more traction. I know I'd've appreciated a place like this growin' up. Me family was a lot like the ones yer targetin'."

He paused and then: "how much are ye needin'?" He could really give any amount. Hell, he could probably fund the entire project, but he knew to be careful. Vixey was just starting out. While her ideas were good, the competition (and potential competitor sabotage from Tallulah) were things he was definitely thinking about.

VIXEY: Vixey waited anxiously while Seamus looked through the binder. At first, she just kind of stared at him, but when it was clear that he was going to be taking his time, she looked away. She took a sip of coffee. And watched people going by on the sidewalk. A family, a man with his dog, people who were hurrying to get somewhere, people who were moseying along. People taking pictures and people pointing. The sidewalk was swollen with tourists, as it often was in the summer.

It entertained her for a bit, but it didn’t stop her from thinking anxiously about what Seamus was thinking. There hadn’t been any advice about how to organize your business. There were all sorts of things about the to do lists and the steps, but not putting it all together. She didn’t know if there was some industry format she was missing. If Seamus would know it and think her ignorant.

She was ignorant, after all. About how business worked, anyway. And she wanted it to succeed. Even if she was still unsure about how much.

The napkin she’d gotten with her drink was getting shredded in her lap. Her eyes snapped to Seamus as he leaned back and closed the book. She nodded a little at his question, unsure what else to say. It was the truth. She was here to ask him to invest. There was no getting around it really.

Vixey managed a smile about the little anecdote he told. After all, that was why she was doing this. For families that needed it. It wasn’t frivolous. It was important.

“Yes, well, uhm,” she tripped over her words but then managed to find them. “30,000 pounds is the total amount. I may have over calculated slightly, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

SEAMUS: Seamus knew she was only beginning her endeavor, that there were risks involved in backing someone who had no prior experience. He'd been one of those himself, once upon a time. But the ideas that he was seeing were good ones, a place to start.

His eyes swept down to the napkin she had clutched between her hands, torn nearly to shreds and scattered on the tabletop. He refrained from drawing attention to it. She was clearly nervous, but his story seemed to have helped. That was good, then.

Nodding, Seamus reaches into his coat pocket and pulled out his check book. "How's ten thousand pounds sound tah ye? 'S a start, gives ye a chance tah network. More experience fer ye and potential backers."

VIXEY: 10,000 pounds?

That was more money than Vixey had ever seen in her life. She hadn’t known what to expect, or how much to except, when she met with Seamus today. Honestly, she hadn’t expected anything at all. Maybe a rejection. Maybe encouragement but no offer for a loan. And she would appreciate whatever she got. She would be humble and grateful.

And she was!

Ten thousand pounds was just...so much money! It didn’t even scratch the surface either, which was entirely wild to her.

Still...she’d be an idiot not to take it, especially after she had worked so hard to get to this point.

“Wow, yes. That’d be--that’d be amazing Mr. MacTunnag. Amazing, actually. Thank you so much!”

#bdrpseamus #vixmus #the investment #part one #lookbook

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et-lesailes · 5 years ago

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parallels

pairing: steve rogers x reader, ransom robinson/ransom thrombey x reader, also guest starring tony stark for 4 seconds

themes: jealous!steve, two of chris evans’ characters in one fic? idk if there’s a term for that i’m neW at this tbh

word count: 3k

summary: you and steve are on a mission involving traveling through dimensions, and you end up in some type of alternate universe where the two of you meet a cocky yet charming man with an eerie resemblance to steve. as bizarre as the situation already is, steve finds himself getting jealous when this man starts flirting with you, considering he’s had feelings for you ever since he’s met you; he almost immediately returns back to HQ without you, leaving you a little upset and a little more tempted to run into this mysterious man’s arms.....

taglist: @world-of-losers, @viarogers, @evanstush, @chibi-crazy, @chalamet-evans

note: requested by anonymous // SO, the original request did include the choice of adding smut, but tbh, i felt as though it would be a little out of place based on the storyline i went for. however, if anyone would like to see some smut with this story, please let me know in my inbox and i would be more than happy to write a part two! also please keep in mind that this may be nothing like ransom’s actual character; i only have one movie trailer to go off of, but i did my best!

** feel free to send an ask if you would like to be added to my taglist of any chris evans related fics!

You approached the large black gates to the expansive mansion, your eyes flickering over it curiously with a slight frown on your face. “This doesn’t seem like the place Tony described,” you murmured, looking around the freshly cut, well maintained lawn sprawling in front of you and Steve. “I think there might have been a glitch with the machine…”

The super soldier nodded in agreement as he glanced around, strong hands placed on his hips as he surveyed the area. “This definitely isn’t where we're supposed to be. Just looks like a regular place to me. I mean, besides for the fact that someone clearly outrageously wealthy lives here. Jesus, this house is huge.” You looked upon it again, practically having to tilt your head back to see as much of it as you could, and even then there were a few trees and foliage in the way of your view. “Well, I guess we gotta use the Pym Particles and get back to HQ. Tony should be able to fix this,” you said with a sigh, earning somewhat of a scowl from Steve, though you didn’t even notice. He knew there was nothing going on between you and Tony, but even the mere thought of you relying on someone other than him made him feel… useless. He wanted to be your rock, he wanted to be the one to fix everything for you.

He forced himself to snap out of it, though; the two of you were on a mission, and he couldn’t let such petty thoughts distract him. If anything, he only felt frustrated with himself that he turned into such an adolescent boy when it came to you; it wasn’t like him to feel so territorial, so jealous. He was a man who believed in freedom and independence-- he was Captain America, for God’s sake. So why did he want to know every single little thing that was running through your mind? Why did he hate the thought of even being apart from you?

He sighed to himself, retrieving the tiny bottle of particles from his pocket before a voice sounded from behind both of you. “Hey! Do you two need something, or do you just enjoy trespassing for fun?”

You looked up in surprise, blinking a few times upon seeing a man with an eerily shocking resemblance to Steve; he wore more formal apparel, dressed in a brown coat, cream colored sweater, and a rather flashy colored scarf adorning his neck, but his facial features were almost identical to Steve’s. You could tell that Steve was rather shocked too as he stared at the man somewhat dumbfounded, not usually one to be at a loss for words, but this situation seemed to be the exception.

You quickly shook your head, realizing you had yet to give him a response. “No, I’m sorry-- we, um, seem to be lost. Do you live here?” you asked, somewhat curious to figure out who the hell this doppelgänger was. Had you and Steve ended up in some odd parallel universe? Was there some wealthy, well dressed version of you wandering around here too?

The Steve lookalike had his eyes fixed on you, an eyebrow slowly raising as a light smirk crossed his lips. “Why, as a matter of fact, I do, dollface. Why? Would you like a house tour?” You blinked and laughed slightly, a blush barely traveling over your cheeks-- though before you could respond, Steve was standing right in between both of you, a deep frown on his otherwise stone face. “We’re actually just leaving, but thanks.” The other Steve blinked as he looked at him; you expected him to realize and acknowledge the freaky similarities, but instead, he looked to you with a little scoff. “This your boyfriend, sweetheart? What’s with the tough boy act, he compensating for his tiny dick?”

Your mouth practically dropped open, though you quickly closed it again upon seeing the anger practically radiating off of Steve’s body. Quickly grabbing him and pulling him back gently, you looked at the other man with an arched eyebrow. “You do realize you two look exactly the same, right?” He looked at you as if thoroughly offended, snorting in disbelief. “Me? And him? Good one, darling. Anyways, like I was saying,” -- he changed the subject before you could even fully take in the shock that this stranger was completely oblivious to the fact that he was Steve Rogers’ damn twin-- “let me show you around, cupcake. It’s not everyday you get to see a mansion like this one, hm?” He winked and held out his hand for you, barely biting on his lip charmingly. “My name’s Ransom, by the way.” You found yourself placing your hand in his as you introduced yourself, still unable to fully get over the fact that everything about his physical features was identical to Steve’s.

“Are you serious?” Steve looked to you now visibly annoyed, eyebrows furrowed. “This creep doesn’t need to know your name. Come on, let’s get out of here. We’re clearly in the wrong place.” You frowned, beginning to respond until Ransom stepped in, an almost challenging look in his expression. “Why don’t you let her decide, buddy? She’s a grown woman-- and a very attractive one at that-- I think she can speak for herself.” You bit your lip seeing Steve’s eyes become darker, his fists even slightly clenching. “Steve. Maybe we should check it out first,” you whispered, coming closer to him. “You know, just… rule out for sure that this is the wrong place before going ahead and deciding that for ourselves.” The soldier looked at you incredulously, slowly frowning even more. “This guy’s actually getting to you, isn’t he? You would really rather spend time with this jerk than finish this mission?”

“Steve, no, I just-”

“Forget it. I’m going back myself and clearing this up with Tony. You come back when your date is over.”

You widened your eyes as you watched your partner use his Pym Particles to transport himself back to HQ, your mouth slightly open in disbelief. Even Ransom looked slightly fazed for the first time since he had made his entrance, staring at the spot where Steve had just been. “How the hell did he do that?” he asked, and you could only rub your temples, feeling both irritated and guilty at the same time. Finally looking up again, you smiled at the well dressed man, taking a deep breath. “You know what, Ransom? I will take that tour of your home. Let’s go.”

_________________________

“So you just left her there. With some weird man who happens to be your parallel universe doppelgänger.”

“I-- she can come back anytime she wants, Tony, you act like I stranded her there.”

“Yeah, and since when does Captain America turn his back on his team? Well, you know, besides that whole--”

“Shut up, Tony. And I’m not turning my back on her, I just left early. There was no point in me being there.”

Steve sighed as he ran his fingers through his blonde locks, leaning back against the steel table in Tony’s lab. As much as he was downplaying the situation, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Had he been too rash? Too petty? If anything happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself. No, no-- you were smart, and you knew how to protect yourself. You’d be fine, he assured himself.

….Right?

_________________________

“Wow. This place is.. beautiful. And you live here?”

“It’s technically my grandfather’s house. My family and I are visiting, but they’re out shopping downtown at the moment.”

You marveled at the beautiful courtyard, your eyes flickering upon each and every flower bed. You could still feel Ransom’s eyes on you, however, and you hated the fact that it made you blush. What was it about him that was so charming to you? Was it because he looked exactly like Steve? You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been majorly crushing on Steve ever since you started working together for Nick Fury, and you could tell he had feelings for you, too. Why the two of you didn't have the guts to say anything, you didn’t know, but it only stressed you out to think about. And so you pushed the thought away, smiling at Ransom. You were still a little annoyed with the soldier for leaving you behind, and you wanted to spend a little more time away from him. “Well, like I said, it’s absolutely beautiful. Where to next?” He shot you his appealing smile, holding out his arm for you to take. “Mm what I’m hoping will be your favorite part of the tour….” You looked up at him slightly more intrigued, laughing softly as you took hold of his arm. “Well, I have high expectations now,” you teased, and his chuckle sounded like a low rumble, eyebrow raised as he replied, “I would hope so. A woman like you should never settle.” You couldn’t help but blush slightly, though the heat across your cheeks was practically also screaming at you to get it together. Was Steve right? Were you only staying here for a “date”, not to actually make sure this place wasn’t where you two were meant to go?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Ransom led you inside a rather extravagant bedroom, a devilishly handsome smile gracing his lips. “Last but not least…. my room. It’s nice, isn’t it?” You looked around in awe, admiring the elegant furniture and rather regal feel to it- it seemed to match his personality well, in a way. “It’s amazing.” You suddenly blinked and looked up to him in amusement. “But… why is this supposed to be my favorite?” He barely bit on his lip, grinning as he suddenly turned to face you more properly, coming closer to you and slowly placing his hands on your waist. “Because of this.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours, and while half of you wanted to scoff at how incredibly douchey this plan had been on his part, the other half was already melting into his sensual kiss. Allowing yourself to bring your arms around his neck, you kissed him back, a little hum of content traveling from your mouth to his own as the kiss began to get steamier. He was soon kissing and nibbling on your neck, using his grip on you to walk you back to the bed and pushing you onto your back roughly, growling happily against your skin. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around him, your fingers running through his hair as you tilted your head, letting out breathy moans and whimpers as his teeth teased your skin even rougher than before.

And then you snapped back to reality, your eyes widening as you suddenly pushed him off, sitting up. “Wh-what am I doing…?” you mumbled almost dazed, holding your head before looking at him. “Ransom, I’m- I’m sorry, I can’t. This was a bad idea, I need to go back.” He immediately frowned, shaking his head lightly as he caressed your cheek. “Come on, sweetheart, your little goody-two-shoes boyfriend doesn’t need to know…” You blinked before scoffing incredulously, shaking your head. He thought Steve was your boyfriend and had the nerve to initiate this with you anyways? Whoever this weird, parallel universe version of Captain America was, you decided he was not worth a second longer of your time. “Goodbye, Ransom.” You ended the conversation, standing up and smoothing your slightly messy hair with your fingers before checking your pocket for the Pym Particles. He let out a disappointed sigh, though still wore a somewhat cocky smirk on his face as he stepped aside, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Bye, beautiful. You know where to find me if you change your mind…” The mere fact that he was too focused on hooking up with you to even ask how the hell you and Steve were able to harness the powers of what was practically teleportation should have been enough of a red flag; you did not, however, have the heart to tell him that you had absolutely no idea where to find him even if you did change your mind, and so you simply offered him a somewhat pitiful smile before bringing yourself back to Tony’s lab with a click of a button.

_________________________

Five minutes had passed since Steve and Tony’s conversation when you suddenly appeared back at HQ, causing the blond to immediately rise from his seat with somewhat wide eyes. “You’re back… you were there for a while, for that dimension’s time,” Steve noted as he bit his lip slightly, and you could see that his eyes were practically filled with apology. You wanted to give in right there; you were soft for him, after all, and besides, you felt guilty for what you had just done. You and Steve had not even openly acknowledged having feelings for each other, yet you felt as though you had cheated on him. “Where’s Tony?” you asked instead, ignoring his comment. If you could at least avoid talking about Ransom, that would be ideal, but unfortunately, Steve wasn’t going to drop it that easily. “He’s out to get more parts for something he’s making, I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. I was so worried about you. What happened while you were there?” he asked with a frown, moving closer to you. “I’m… I’m really sorry that I left. I shouldn’t have done that, I-- I wasn’t thinking straight.” You had been slightly prepared to be a little irritated and feisty with him, but his apology caught you off guard. Damn. Why did he have to be so sweet, so accountable?

“Captain America wasn’t thinking straight? Since when does that ever happen?” you asked softly with slight amusement, your more lighthearted tone letting him know he was out of the doghouse. He chuckled lowly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh before stepping closer to you. “Since he developed a huge crush on this girl he works with and messed everything up with her because he can’t get over some unnecessary, uncalled for jealousy.” You looked up at him in surprise, speechless for a few moments. You hadn’t been expecting him to finally say it, and while you would normally feel ecstatic, you only felt even more guilty than before. After all, his jealousy wasn’t so uncalled for…

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly, bringing his hand to your face to gently tilt it upwards. “I made the mistake of waiting too long to be honest with you. But… I’m ready to be now if you are too.” You inwardly winced; did he already know or something? Was he trying to get you to admit it? You shook the ridiculous thoughts out of your head, knowing he would never be so manipulative. Taking a deep breath, you knew what you had to do.

“Ransom kissed me, Steve,” you blurted out, then mentally slapped your forehead; sometimes, your peel-the-Band Aid-right-off mentality was a little too direct. “A-and.. I kissed him back. But I stopped it right after, Steve, I couldn’t do it. At first I was just so irritated with you, so shocked and hurt that you left, and then I realized that was the wrong reason to be doing anything with him, let alone kissing him.” You looked up at him, your expression full of guilt, though softly and truthfully adding afterwards, “And besides… when I was kissing him, I was just.. wishing it was you…”

You saw several expressions cross through his features, each one making you feel more and more ashamed, but once you were done talking, he seemed to soften a little. Rubbing his temples, he let out a heavy sigh before looking down at you seriously. “I can’t be angry with you for that. I made you upset, and I can’t expect you to not be involved with other men when I couldn’t even tell you I wanted to be exclusive with you. But… that’s why I’m telling you now. Look, I’ve had these feelings for so long, and I think this could really go somewhere. So if you’re on the same page as me… then maybe…”

You slowly smiled, suddenly bouncing onto your tiptoes to fling your arms around his neck, kissing him happily in response. The second your lips connected, you immediately knew it felt right; as he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around you before scooping you up entirely to hold you in his strong arms, you were feeling more and more grateful that you had turned Ransom down when you had. You held onto him tightly as you let your tongues wrap around one another, taking in everything about him that was so uniquely Steve; the love and passion you could feel from his mere hold, his fresh, manly scent, the chiseled muscles of his arms-- Ransom may have had an eerily similar face, but he was certainly not the same as Steve Rogers. The biggest difference being that Steve was now yours, and you were his.

You were so absorbed in the kiss that you hadn’t even heard Tony walk back in, only pulling back in surprise when you heard him loudly clearing his throat. “I see everything’s been smoothed over,” the billionaire commented nonchalantly, a lazy smirk playing his lips as he held a box of parts for God knows what under his arm. “I dunno, if I were you, I would have stuck with the other guy. What’s his name? Hostage? Blackmail? Bandit? Something along those lines, right?” You blushed slightly but playfully flipped him off as you wiggled down from Steve’s arms, taking his hand instead. “As appreciated as your relentless sarcasm is, Tony, Steve and I will be leaving now. We have some… other business of our own. So let us know when you’ve fixed your error that sent us to “Bandit” in the first place, hm?” You gave him a playful smirk, patting his shoulder as you walked past him, giggling when a laughing Steve scooped you up again to kiss you as the two of you entered the elevator.

#steve rogers x reader #ransom robinson x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #chris evans imagine #i've been seeing 2 different last names for him so idk lmao #again please lmk if yall wanna see smut #but i figured this was so long already lolol

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fleckcmscott · 5 years ago

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Watch What Happens - Chapter 2

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: None

Words: 2,027

“Shit,” Y/N said. Her furious typing came to a standstill. “Patricia, do you have the wite-out?”

Patricia arched her brow at her from behind her own typewriter. “Did you hit the ‘v’ instead of the ‘w’ again?”

Y/N caught the tiny bottle her colleague tossed her. “Why can’t this guy have an easier last name? At least one that’s phonetic?” The feed roller clicked as she turned the typewriter’s carriage knob. Carefully, she extricated the paper without damaging it. “I can’t start anything with ‘Kowlinska,’” she said, carefully fixing her typo with the white liquid.

“I think it starts with a ‘K’,” Patricia retorted.

“Ha-ha,” Y/N deadpanned.

God, she needed break. She’d been working non-stop for three hours. Stretching, she stood and walked across the medium-sized room to look out the window. The streets were full. With a population of ten million, there was always plenty of hustle and bustle. The vendor on the corner was offering pretzels to anyone who came near him. A little girl ran down the sidewalk excitedly, screeching and dodging trash bags all the way. Y/N smiled, thankful she was now in Gotham. The grime of the city, the variety of people - she wouldn’t trade it for anything. It was miles away from the small town she had wasted almost forty years in.

The sun was already on the horizon, ending the day too early for her taste. She still had a lot of work to do. A status conference on a jeopardy order for three children was tomorrow morning - that file needed to be prepared. The motion she kept mistyping needed to be completed. The shredding needed to be done. She enjoyed being busy, but this week had been more demanding than most. It would be another long night.

“Y/N? I’m getting some coffee. Want some?” Patricia asked.

Y/N turned to her and smirked. “If I drink it now, I’ll never get to sleep tonight, and then you’ll have to deal with me in the morning.” She shook her head and made her way back to her desk. “No thanks. I like you too much for that.”

“Sweet talker!” Patricia called as she walked off.

Y/N leaned back in her cloth chair, eyes roving over the woodwork of the ceiling. When she’d first started at Shaw & Associates, she’d found the intricate office decor intimidating. Fortunately, she’d grown up comfortably, and had been so most of her adult life. But she hadn’t been exposed to such opulence. Now, after a little over a year, she’d gotten used to it. And she was proud to be part of one of Gotham’s most prominent law firms.

Matt Stone, the attorney she worked with most closely, stuck his head out of his office. He was frazzled. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

She swiveled to face him fully and crossed her arms. “Do you have another present for me?”

“I do.” He approached and handed her an expanded pendaflex. It took both hands for her to hold it. “The Wayne Foundation case-”

Y/N’s eyes darted to his, corners of her lips turning up. “You’re letting me work on a Wayne case?”

“Which one?” Patricia interjected as she returned. She blew on the hot coffee she held.

“The case about the abandoned tenements in the borrows? The ones the Wayne Foundation wants to claim?” Matt nodded at the file, hands in his pockets. “The defendant filed a motion to stop it. Again.”

Y/N’s face scrunched up as she opened the file. “That’s odd.” Her fingers leafed through the stack of papers. “Didn’t you say before that they’re falling down? You’d think they’d want to be rid of them before someone gets hurt.”

“Maybe they want to keep the land as investment property. Then try to sell it off later.” He shrugged at her. “Look it over tomorrow. We’ll talk about it in detail next week.” At that, he spun to go back to his office.

Groaning, Y/N wheeled over to watch him as he took a seat behind his large, wooden desk. “That’ll be the third late night this week,” she said.

Matt waved her concern off. “Do you have something better to do?”

She rolled her eyes and scooted back to her work area. “Not being in the office is good enough.” While she didn’t have any plans, she didn’t want him to think she was endlessly available.

He offered an olive branch. “Well, I’ll owe you one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said over her shoulder. “I’ll remind you at Christmas.” She caught Patricia’s eye, then. “I can’t decide if he likes me or hates me.”

Patricia chuckled. “Both. Definitely. Give me the Kowlinska paperwork. Unlike you, I know how to type.”

Y/N snickered as she passed it to her. “Thanks. I’ll finish tomorrow’s conference file.”

~~~~~

It was past seven she left the office. Though Matt had told her to start working on the Wayne file tomorrow, she’d wanted to take a crack at it. Given the size of it, she thought she might sneak it home to peruse over the weekend.

She was happy to be entrusted with a case from the firm’s most prestigious client. And after working there for a relatively short time. It’s not that she was a fan of the Wayne family - they just happened to be wealthy. But it would be nice to work on cases besides the pro-bono family and child protection matters. She was good at those and was able to process them quickly, but reading reports of domestic abuse was wearing. This change would be good.

The small grocery store was fairly deserted when she entered it. She was relieved, not wanting to take too long. A bottle of wine, a bag of chips, and a frozen dinner for tomorrow would do. As she picked up each item, weaving through the disparate aisles, she smirked at herself. Was it pathetic that she was pleased with her basket of alcohol and garbage? Maybe. But she was fine with that.

Y/N sauntered down the frozen food section, scanning the bright TV dinner boxes. The regulars, macaroni and cheese, Salisbury steak, lasagna, were ones she’d already tried. She stopped when a new one caught her eye: Polynesian Style Dinner. Nothing like fried meat chunks in an unnaturally orange sauce. She’d try that one and pretend she was adventurous.

The only thing preventing her from grabbing it and heading to the check-out was the man standing in front of the freezer door.

She watched him. He hadn’t seemed to notice her approach or sense she was a couple feet behind him. She took the opportunity to inspect him. Well worn brown shoes, dark blue slacks a tad loose on him. The basket in his hand had marked-down pens, bread, and a bottle of seltzer. Continuing upward, she could see his tan jacket was well-loved, soft and clean. His longish, slightly dark brown hair had a slight curl to it, and it looked freshly shampooed. Even though she was in heels, he was a couple of inches taller than her.

After waiting to see if the man would realize she was there, she gently cleared her throat. “It’s hard to decide when there are so many choices, isn’t it?”

He slowly moved to look at her. She thought he hadn’t heard her clearly at first, but the corner of his mouth lifted.

She spoke again, starting to grin. “I think I’ve had every one of these. Want me to warn you off a few?”

A soft huff escaped him. She noticed his free hand join his other on the basket handle, squeezing tight. “No. I get these all the time,” he said quietly.

Y/N gave a short nod, then pointed at the door of the freezer. “Would you mind if I grabbed one?”

It took only a moment for him to open the door and hold it for her. He leaned against it lightly, some panache in his movement. The slight smile hadn’t left his face.

She let out a faint laugh and stepped forward to reach past him, and grab the dinner. “Thanks,” she said as she turned to look up at him.

His wide cheekbones and sharp jawline gave her pause. He looked a bit weary, maybe a couple years older than her. The clear, light green of his deep set eyes surprised her, a contrast from his dark, prominent brow. Those eyes were narrowing as she continued to stare at him.

“Sorry,” she said, blushing and averting her gaze. He’d caught her checking him out, and she felt bad for obviously making him feel self-conscious. “I didn’t mean to gawk at you. It’s been a long day and I’m a little dazed.”

He reached into the freezer and grabbed the same frozen meal. “It’s fine.” She thought she heard him chuckle.

She started towards the check-out, looking back over her shoulder. The man was headed the same way, but kept a respectable distance. As she placed her few items on the belt, she noticed him get in line behind her. He held his hands in front of him, head bent downward as he waited. Y/N paid quickly, giving him a small wave as she walked off. “Night.”

“Good night,” he answered.

Once Y/N was back home, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her answering machine was blinking. She played the messages and took her shoes off. They were mostly mundane: confirmation of a dentist appointment, her sister just calling to say hello and catch up. She was in the middle of opening the wine when the last message played.

“Y/N, this is Matt from the office.” He must be working at home, she thought. “Sorry I didn’t catch you before you left. You’ll need to come to the hearing with me tomorrow. I’m this is last minute, but you know the file well and it’ll make the process easier. Sorry to cancel casual Friday.”

She finished opening the wine and poured herself a double. “Now you owe me two favors,” she said to herself. Taking a long drink, she walked to the television, turned it on, and planted herself on the sofa.

The news was on. “Thomas Wayne has formed an exploratory committee to to test the waters for a potential run for mayor,” the reported intoned. “We caught up with Mr. Wayne outside of town hall.”

The picture cut to Thomas Wayne: well-dressed as always, slicked back hair. His wife and son were with him. “I’m the only one who can help Gotham. That’s why I’m considering a run for office.” He brought his hands up to his chest, gesturing for emphasis. “To help the people of this city. To give back some of the blessings I’ve been given.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Even though she was only now starting to work on a Wayne file, she’d heard some of the legal maneuvers the foundation had taken. Yes, there were good intentions behind nearly all of them. But only a small fraction of those plans seemed to come to fruition. With that knowledge, she thought it was arrogant for him to assume he was Gotham’s white knight.

Deciding it was too late to think about politics, she let her mind drift to the guy at the store. She hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. He’d barely talked with her, as though he didn’t realize how good looking he was. And the way he opened the door with some flourish… For someone who came across as rather awkward, he certainly appeared to have some grace. The juxtaposition was charming.

Taking another sip of wine, she chastised herself. He’d probably thought she was a desperate creep, staring at him the way she did. She was neither. She wasn’t even looking. But it had been a long time since she’d seen someone who’d piqued her interest at all.

The news broadcast ended and she flipped to Tonight with David Endochrine. Finally, brainless entertainment. She grabbed the folded blanket from the back of the sofa and snuggled down into the couch. She finished the wine and was soon snoozing, still dressed for work.

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @clowndaddyfleck

#arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck #joker 2019 #arthur fleck x female reader #watchwhathappens

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hobiwonder · 6 years ago

Text

A vase of flowers | (m)

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers.

Pairing: Wealthy art student!taehyung x art student!reader

Warnings: slight angst. language. foreplay, descriptions of unprotected sex, dirty talk. it’s pretty tame otherwise.

Words: 10k

Summary: Art prodigy Taehyung comes to your art store out of desperation when he doesn’t have enough paint to finish his latest piece. That wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t hate his elitist ass.

a/n: this was just to get back in to writing. Its not edited and probably doesn't flow the best. But it did get me writing so here u go!! feedback is much appreciated :)

(he’s a work of art himself!!1!!!1!)

The hustle and bustle of students – females in particular – in the hall outside the lecture theatre was more infuriating than you had anticipated. What else did you expect though? The one day you don’t come late to the lecture is the day Kim Taehyung had decided to show up to class so the hallways outside the room being cramped like a chicken farm was inevitable. Even Minnie sitting beside you was craning her neck forward to catch a glimpse of the artistic prodigy – never mind his out of the ordinary good looks – before the class started. He was very much a superstar at your university but you will never understand why people were so obsessed with people who were not actually that great if you just looked past the good looks and the talent. Talent didn’t automatically make someone a good person and everyone’s obsession with the teal haired artist really pissed you off.

“Ugh, when will these bimbos shut up. He’s not a god!” Your words are muffled against your sweater clad forearm as you try and rest your head before class started. Having the closing shift the night before was one of the few things you despised when you had a class this early in the next morning. But you still showed up to every one of them. Unlike someone else.

“Well it doesn’t help that he looks like one.” Minnie is just shrugging while she continues to lean over her chair to watch the girls twirl their hair, throw back their heads in laughter whenever Kim Taehyung says something ‘funny’, nudging his shoulder with their own to show their frankness when really – none of these girls probably knew him past his bedroom since he rarely showed up to class. But news of him being a womanizer was common although slightly more hushed than that of the football team captain and co-caption Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi. Those boys were a headache for another day.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t anything special. In fact – he rarely showed up to class, was given special privileges you were sure of it because he was always in the top three students despite showing his face once in a blue moon, had every professor whipped for his pert ass because of how well connected he was in the industry as well as his family being one of the founding fathers of your current university.

Sure, someone like that is bound to be more popular than your regular high achiever or talented artist but the fact that he had everyone absolutely nuts about him was infuriating. On top of th-

“Are you done with your inner monologue? You’re blocking my way.” The unmistakably deep voice belongs to none other than the boy who you wanted to punch so very much. But that wouldn’t be wise given that most of the class was watching. His annoyingly attractive smirk was always there. Like it was just how his mouth was shaped but you knew that he always made the look a bit more condescending when speaking to you. Not that he would let anyone else know though. Bastard knew how to keep his persona up and you just wanted to smack him even more!

“Oh sorry. Forgot your name was on that seat since you barely come to class. I’ll remember for the next time when you make your monthly appearance.” Minnie is nudging you with her elbow no doubt to shut you up and it’s not the first time this exact scenario had taken place. But you wanted to keep yourself in check since no doubt the rest of your comrades would give Minnie a hard time since they didn’t have the balls to annoy you because of your obvious dislike of Kim Taehyung.

“Missed me, did you?” Your little victory smile is slipping off your face when his smirk deepens and you have to physically grab your desk and grit your teeth from snapping at him again while you move your feet out of the way so his smug ass can get to his stupid seat. Thankfully his seat was towards the end of the row so you didn’t have to catch glimpses of his pretentious face.

“You wish trust fund baby.” Alas, he isn’t affected. Not even a bit as he winks your way while walking to ‘his’ seat.

“Leave the pet names for people who actually get to be with me.” That’s it. Youj will break his stupid obnoxious snobby face!

“Calm down y/n. Everyone is watching.” She holding on to your arm while your eyeballs glare at Taehyung’s direction without even blinking.

“All the more satisfying when I kiss him with my fist! Minnie let me go you knob.” While you’re trying to wrestle your arm free; your professor has walked in looking pleasantly surprised with the semi-full lecture theatre. His gaze almost instantly goes directly to Taehyung because even he knows that most of these new faces that show up once in a while as well are because of Taehyung. They nod at each other before he starts the class and your mouth is agape that no one even questions the favouritism in this class. A bunch of ass kissers!

“Are you seeing this? His daddy probably plays golf with the prof. Jung Soo!”

“So what, y/n? You’re forgetting the rest of them also have parents who play golf with Taehyung’s dad. Most of these rats are rich as fuck. Not everyone comes from humbler beginnings.” Minnie is smiling hopefully as she watches you pout but her response only makes you snort.

“Are you forgetting you’re one of these ‘rats’?”

“Don’t remind me.” She falls back in her seat while hiding her face at the mention of her filthy rich parents being business partners with Kim Taehyung’s. When you’d first found out how well off your best friend was it only made you more enraged. If she could be a decent human being and not get any special treatment – despite being extremely talented as well – then why stupid Kim Taehyung? Minnie had a banging body and a face to match not that it should matter but you were so sick of the double standards. Your best friend also deserved special treatment dammit!

“Why? You shouldn’t be ashamed of being rich, hot AND a decent human being. I would so be one of those girls drooling after that canvas demon if I was gay.”

“Bitch I’m almost convinced you aregay but the way you’re ready to drop your panties for Min Yoongi tells me otherwise.” You only try to muffle your laughter while smacking Minnie’s knee, mumbling a ‘shut up’ before you both opt to pay attention to what your professor is going on about. Not before you catch Taehyung watching you like he was about to grade your upcoming assessment. You just send him another glare and try to ignore his overtly attractive physical presence. How could someone just sittingseem attractive, you will never get it. God really favoured some people more than others huh?

“Thanks for coming. Have a nice day!” The chime of the register as it slid closed was a sound you were starting to hate. The smile on your face was tired and probably was becoming very obviously fake. But that was just a typical day at the arts and crafts store – the only one in the near vicinity of the university hence the more than average traffic even close to 7pm at night on a weekday. Since the store was employed with almost entirely all students, it was able to stay open longer than the regular hours to allow the students with day classes to work during the night shifts. You were an exception though. Being on the lower end of the income spectrum among your peers, you needed as much work as you could get. Doing a bachelors in fine arts helped too as you used the tools that the store sold, on a regular basis. It definitely came in handy when assisting first years and some mature aged students who needed extra help in finding the right type of brushes or paints needed for their canvases.

“You good? You can take off for the rest of the night you know?” You know that Sungwoon is trying to sound helpful but you knew his real intentions. Scoffing in his direction you just grab your blue water bottle to take a good swig and wake you up.

“So you can steal my shift and work instead? Not today satan.”

“You’re literally so dramatic.” He says while heaving the biggest breath out like he was any better. “Maybe I genuinely just want you to rest and not have your face turn in to one of those creepy smiling masks from that one movie.” He’s clicking his fingers s if that’ll help him recall the name of the film any faster. Lucky for him, you knew what he was talking about.

“The Purge?”

“That’s it! See, you knew exactly what I was referring to. You need sleep.” Sungwoon is nodding while looking at you like you stank or something. Ugh screw boys.

“If I did, you’re the first person I’ll get rid off.” You deadpan and you can almost pinpoint when he starts to realise you may not be joking. But you were of course. He was a little shit but all in good fun.

“Well,” he’s picking up his bag and making sure to clock out from the app the store used to make sure everyone was getting to work on time, “I’ll be going then. Have fun scaring off rest of the customers and drowning the revenue for today.”

His squealing laughter is the last thing you hear before he’s scuttling out when you try and smack him across his bicep. Sungwoon was probably one of the few boys you could stand and were actually close enough with for them to joke around like that with you because apart from Minnie, there weren’t many people who really liked talking to you. That much was clear when you’d moved near the campus from your town when you’d been accepted to the rather elite Art University.

Coming from a small town – you’d think you were more friendly but that wasn’t the case with you. You’d grown up with a strict father that made sure to discipline you if you ever messed up your tasks at his workshop. Ever since you could remember how to read and write, you had been helping him out with the business as he could not. His own father – your grandfather – had been even more strict on him according to your mother so there was no changing him. You had never really minded in doing the book-keeping for him or making sure the small town client paid on time after having their cars tended to. That’s until you had started your Junior year in high school and had the choice of choosing between subjects now that you were to apply for universities after. Or that’s what the plan was for most children. You had taken Art as a spare since it was the easiest class at the time and you really didn’t need any complicated subjects to study for because you were having to work at the workshop with your dad even more as you were getting older.

Being an only child also meant that all the expectations your parents had fell upon you to see them through. It also meant that the only time you interacted with your fellow classmates was during class. Not even after because as soon as school would finish – you’d have to rush to the workshop to help your dad sign out cars from the shop to the owners on time. He specifically made appointments towards the end of your school day just so you could be there and help him make sure the checks he was given by the more wealthier customers – only a few – were not for an amount less than he’d quoted them with. Believe it or not, it had happened and every time it did you had to stop yourself from smacking the bastards who had tried to take advantage of your father just because he couldn’t read. Ant to make the matter even more ridiculous, most of the people who tried to scam your father had been those who could actually afford his services. Not Joe who had a farm and sold eggs locally as his main source of living, not Jihoon’s father who was a delivery man and needed his vehicle to keep working and provide for him family and certainly not the old lady who had her truck serviced by your father so she could get to her appointments to the doctor, on time despite her only income being what her son sent from the city where he worked as a chef and had his own family to feed.

The world was filled with unkind people and most of them were those who could afford most things but still tried to take the less fortunate’s share too. Your father was a calm man but all his frustrations were usually taken out on you whenever you would rightfully insult those who tried to seek discounts despite knowing that your father wouldn’t be able to afford the tools he needed to do a fair job on the vehicles if he didn’t get paid the amount he had set on the pricelist which was dismal compared the mechanics you have seen in the city.

But of course, he wouldn’t say much to those low-lives because at least he was getting business. And that was better than nothing. When you’d finally let him know at the end of your senior year that you’d applied to an arts university rather than the business school he had hoped you would go to – things had not gone well, to say the least. Of course all his anger would be directed at you that day from the shop as well as finding out that his only child was not interested in business at all. You had done it as much as you could for the sake of helping out and honestly? Just not knowing what was out there for you to study and do with your life. But If there was anything that working with your father had taught you was that if you didn’t take a chance sooner than later – you’d end up having to rely on someone else for the rest of your life. Just like your father relied on you for so long because he just never got around to even finish school because of doing exactly what you had been – helping out your granddad.

The day you had left for university had been hard and was the second time you had cried. Your father hadn’t even looked at you but your mother had clutched on to you until you had to physically pull her away when your taxi had arrived. Even after making sure there was someone to help out your father at the shop, there was still apprehension present in your gut. It had all felt wrong somehow even as you had been unpacking your stuff in your flat the next night. Thankfully, all the hesitancy, all the fights and the sleepless nights had been worth it when you’d gone in to your first class the next day. You’d been excited to meet new people, make friends, make memories you didn’t even knew you had the option to make. But what do you know, getting accepted in to an elite university meant there were more of the same people you had fought off and defended your father from.

Meeting Minnie was almost a miracle. She had been the only one to come up to you being desperate to find a buddy to get lost around the campus with and not like the rest who had taken one look at your jeans and plaid shirt and moved on to find others with the same clothing or designer bags. People were so materialistic in the city it was almost unbelievable. In your town you had been able to find others who were more so on your social and economic status and feel comfortable. But in the city you were outnumbered. Maybe that’s why people like Kim Taehyung got on your nerves even more than usual. You’d noticed his elitist behaviour when invitations had been sent to attend the commencing party at his house in the first week you’d been attending the university and instantly you knew you would never be able to stand him or people like him. Only a certain number and certain looking people – girls to be exact – had been invited to the famous Kim estate. You’d only found out when Minnie had asked what you were going to wear to the party. The look on your face had probably given away your lie that you weren’t actually invited when you’d made up some excuse of not wanting to go. Minnie being the good sport and the only decent person you had known, had made some excuse about not ‘feeling it’ and stayed in that night and watched all of Harry Potter series with you. With you watching them for the first time.

“Bugger.” Your thoughts are interrupted when you almost trip over the bucket of sale items Sungwoon forgot to move. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the relatively heavy bucket that contained tubes of oil paint in colours such as black, white and red that were bought the most and move it to the stock room so it can be displayed again the next morning. Your shift was going to end in another 2 hours so now most of the work included moving display stock to the back room and print out labels for the discounts that were going up tomorrow morning. This is probably why you didn’t completely hate night shifts because other than a few customers – it mostly involved you working silently and most times even able to use headphones without having to worry about missing anyone at the till waiting for you.

“Hello? You guys still open?” You’d just finished putting away the tubes and the paint brushes when the front door had opened – as signalled by the bell atop it – meaning there was a customer.

“Coming!” Quickly getting down from the ladder where you’d been putting the paint in their designated boxes, you rush outside. “Hi, how can I- Oh. It’s just you.”

Taehyung is scoffing towards you when you roll your eyes seeing as it’s not a real customer. It was true. The last few time she’d come in – he’d browsed for all of 5 minutes before making a weird face and leaving. Probably going to buy his pretentious paints from his pretentious shop. It was as if he only came to the store to make fun of all the products most students living on campus – or not filthy rich like him – used.

“Isn’t that against some customer service code? To have this sort of attitude?” His bright hair has somehow made the place look a little less mundane, you hate to admit it. His very clear skin and the various rings he wore didn’t help either in making you feel less than. You hated how much he actually affected your mood.

“For actual customers? Probably yeah.” This time, it’s him who’s rolling his eyes while his hands comes up to have a feel of a synthetic brush that was hanging in front of him.

“What makes you think I’m not a customer?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“I actually am here to buy something this time.” His response only makes you smirk as you hum.

“So you do admit that you only come here to flaunt your wealth. That’s a good sign Taehyung.” But for some reason, the teasing that would usually make you feel better doesn’t feel as satisfying when Taehyung is just looking around like he’s in a pickle rather than through an insult back at you.

“Look, I need some paint and maybe a few natural hair brushes. I would go to-”

“Your overpriced and pretentious art store?”

“-my regular spot but I need to finish this painting tonight.” He completely ignores you when you cut in with a smirk and almost sounds like he is pleading. Wait. He was. The new found info perks you up more than you’d anticipated and it’s almost exciting knowing Kim Taehyung’s fate lies in yhour hands. Okay, maybe an exaggeration but still exviting. So you do what anyhone else in your position would – milk out the entire debacle.

“Well, well, well.” Leaning on your elbows on the counter, you can’t help but feel sort of like an evil villain finally with the perfect opportunity to strike. Except, you weren’t the villain really. You were the good guy!

“For fuck’s sake.” Taehyung mumbles lowly under his breath but you could hear him loud and clear. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

You wanted to be cruel, you really did. You wanted to tell him you had ran out of the supplies but you were too tired and honestly, he was probably going to buya bunch of stuff and if you made a sale above 50,000 won in one transaction then you would make some sweet commission. So whatever.

“Luckily for you, I’m a decent human being so,” stepping out from behind the register, you just deadpan at him, “right this way.”

He seems surprised and so are you. At yourself. Because you’re not sure why you’re being this nice to him when he’s made fun of you on more than one occasion.

“I’m slightly scared you’re leading me somewhere quieter so you can murder me.” His voice is slightly meek and you’re thankful that he can’t see your face because you’re trying to hold in ugly laughter that Kim Taehyung is actually scared of you when alone despite acting like hot shit when surrounded by a herd of girls.

“A good, educated guess. But not today.”

“…. So there is a chance for that to happen another day?” Spinning around to face him abruptly – damn okay maybe you should major in acting because Taehyung flinches but tries to play it off by shrugging his broad shoulders.

“Maybe.” You’re slightly too close to him because you have to crane your neck up to meet his gaze. Just when his own slips down to your lips, you quickly gesture towards the aisle you’ve just stopped in front of. “Here you’ll find what you need. Brushes and paints.”

“Thanks.” You just shrug before turning around to go back to the cash register. That plan doesn’t go too well because a warm grip on your wrist stops you in your tracks and almost on instinct, you’re ripping out your hand from the grasp as soon as you feel it.

“Woah, sorry! I didn’t mean to-” You just cut him off to move past the subject before he even brings it up.

“What do you want now?” Taehyung pauses for a few seconds as if not ready to let your jumpy reaction go just yet but thankfully decides to drop it.

“Look, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate and rally needed the sup-”

“Taehyung, I’m not interested in hearing how you would never set foot in a place where peasants like us – or normal people really – shop so just get to it.”

He however is just biting on the inside of his cheeks as if to burry a smile before it breaks through. “You’re not very patient are you?”

“I haven’t been put in many situations that really require it, so.” You just shrug in his direction but the flash that goes through his eyes that resembled molten dark chocolate sends an involuntary shiver down your spine and thankfully the air con is on and you could blame your odd reaction on to that if he noticed. Why was he looking at you like that?

“That’s too bad. Sometimes the rewards for waiting are quite fulfilling at the end.” And somehow, you’re not sure if he just means that in general or…

His heavy gaze travelling down the length of your body only makes you more eager to move on before you lose all the good comebacks you had at the tip of your tongue just because his looks were making you weak in the knees.

“Whatever.” You turn to leave once again and again, Taehyung reaches out to grab your wrist but pulls himself back before he can. Thankfully, you have already seen him this time so you just cross your hands under your chest, tapping your foot while you wait for him to spit it out.

“Just help me okay? I’m not familiar with these… brands.”

“That’s because none of them are Gucci.” He just rolls his eyes but follows you down the asile anyway.

“You do know that Gucci doesn’t make paint right? If they did it would be amazing though. Maybe I should write to them about this. Hm.” He’s started talking to himself but you start pointing out the different types you had available because you don’t have time to have causal chats with him like you two were friends. Despite his weird behaviour before.

“If you’re looking for oil paints, these ones are smoother and the colour payoff is better than others and if you want buildable colours then go for… this.” You’re about to say they are cheaper than the first brand you had pointed out but then realise that he most likely doesn’t care about the price. Though he doesn’t seem to be looking at you at the moment but only paying attention to the paints just like he paid attention the content in the few lectures you’d seen him at.

“Do they not say the ingredient at the back? That’s peculiar.”

“What’s peculiar is you using the word ‘peculiar’.” You mumble while still watching him inspect the different tubes as if he was going to drink them or something.

“May I get the list of ingredients for these ones here? And the lightfastness rating please.”

“It’s literally at the bottom of the tube.” His eyebrows furrow as he looks back at the tube and looks at the bottom again.

“Oh. Isn’t there like a booklet or something that comes with this so I can check?”

You just continue to stare at him.

“Taehyung, this is a campus arts store and our most expensive paint is 55,000 won. So no, we don’t have fancy brands that make ‘booklets’ for every paint. But if you must know,” You sigh, rolling your eyes at how high maintenance he was with his paints, “I can have a look at the delivery boxed for the ingredients. I know that all of these paints of this brand have a lightfastness rating of II at least.”

“Excellent! And yes that would be great, y/n. I just prefer my oils to be made from pure Linseed is all.” He has a bright smile on his face while he shrugs like that’s just the way it is. But of course, you want to punch him once more for making your job harder than it needs to. He was a college student. What did he need such high quality paints for? Ugh.

So you grit your teeth and walk back to the storage room and fish for the delivery boxes of the brand that Taehyung was interested in. “Stupid rich boy. Used to always getting what he wants.” The mumbling continues on your part while you try to locate the box as quickly as possible so he can go away and stop making your shift harder than it needs to be at almost 8:30 PM at night.

“Aha!” You have finally spotted the boxes that were stacked way at the bottom. Quickly reading through the large ingredient list, you confirm that the paints are unfortunately not made purely from Linseed oil.

“I have some bad news.” When you walk back out to where Taehyung is testing a few brushes, you can see his face drop because you’re sure he can guess what you’re about to say. “The binder used for these paints is a mixture of Linseed and walnut oil as well as a few others.” You shrug but Taehyung seems to be losing it.

“God fucking damnit. I’m screwed.” He’s started to pace around the aisle, looking like his life has just ended and his dog has died. Did he have a dog? You loved dogs.

“Why are you freaking out so badly?” He looks at you like you’re the one who’s acting weird.

“Because I have an auction in three weeks and it usually takes me that long to even finish a painting.” Of course he had an auction. It was common knowledge around campus that he sold his paintings for quite a sum at a few well known auctions. But you couldn’t remember another one happening anytime soon though.

“What auction? There isn’t one scheduled for at least 3 months.” Taehyung is hesitating when you question him. He looks like he would rather not mention it but in the end, sighs and tells you anyway.

“It’s more of an exhibition. Just for my paintings.”

“Oh wow.” Your eyes have widened at the mention of his solo exhibition. He was rich enough to afford to hold one so it shouldn’t be that surprising. But it still was a big deal even for a privileged student like him because you need to have enough credibility and a loyal customer base to attract enough people to an exhibition that is solely filled with your own artwork and not a collection of artists. “ I didn’t know you had your own exhibitions.”

He scratches the back of his head as he shrugs nonchalantly but you see the nerves showing through with how his hands shake slightly. “It’s the first one.”

“Oh.”

“Whatever I’ll just look somewhere else.”

“I use a medium of stand oil, linseed and turpentine, a little wax and add a small amount of cobalt drier to control drying time for my paintings.” You have blurted out your little trick before you could stop yourself. In your defence, he just looked so pitiful. You had to help. He also seems just as surprised at you suggestion and even more surprised when you walk around gathering the supplies you’ve just mentioned.

“Oh… thanks for the tip. I never really thought about that since I never really needed to…”

He silently follows you to the register where you place all the items and scan them so he can pay. Whatever. Maybe you helping him will bring some good karma and give your career a break too and your painting will finally be displayed at the Montero Art Gallery. It was a local gallery but a lot of successful artists you admire had started out from there and you were hoping that your work could be good enough one day to be displayed there too.

“How did you go through all your paints by the way? Should you have a ton of them because you’re supposedly always painting.”

“Supposedly?” Taehyung is smirking while his eyebrows are raised in mock disbelief at your suspicion. “Well, I used up most of them when I had sex on a canvas with Jihyo. Made for a good painting though. Maybe I’ll display that one too.” He’s grinning from ear to ear and you’ve just halted while he pays on the eftpos machine. Okay you definitely regret telling him your trick when he put himself in this position by being a horndog.

“You’re literally so gross.”

“Hey, abstract art is also a thing you know?” He looks serious enough that if he hadn’t said ‘abstract art’ you would think you had actually offended him. You obviously hadn’t when he just winks in your direction while he gathers his items and leaves.

“Asshole.”

It’s been a week since you first saw The Kim Taehyung pop by the little arts store that had previously been too beneath him to even consider buying his supplies there. Though ever since you’d told him about your little trick, he’d been bugging you non-stop on writing tips and you’re almost sure he’s doing it to… well, bug you. It’s as if he isn’t even aware that he’s an artistic prodigy because you’ve seen his paintings yourself and they were hyped up for a reason. Even a bitter person like you could admit that.

So when you get a special request by your boss one Friday evening, you’re surprised to say the least when you figure why you’re even asked to deliver supplies in the first place.

“Are you serious?” Your boss being the sweet old lady she is, is just pushing up her glasses as she nods vigorously at you.

“Of course dear! Must be some poor student who really is in need of help. He sounded quite desperate on the phone.” The old woman was way too nice for her own good. And while you appreciated her big heart, if she says yes to one person that the supplies can be delivered to his house then then word will get around and sooner than later, you’ll have a flood of students ordering their supplies over the phone and wanting them to be delivered. If that was going to be the case then you’ll have to quit since you can’t deliver because you don’t have a car. You relied on public transport damnit!

“Or he’s just lazy Ma.” Yes. Everyone called her ma upon her request. Short for Marion. Not that you minded because she was sweet as honey and really did remind you of your own mother. And she treated you like one too. Especially right now when she just scowls at you and asks you to stop being lazy yourself and deliver the package she’s prepared.

“Ugh fine.” You whine until the very end and she’s just wishing you a safe journey. Thankfully she’d leant you her car for today – it was her idea after all – so you wouldn’t need to spend an hour trying to find the place. It seemed to be quite close to the shop surprisingly. And unsurprisingly, the apartment is in a trendy but expensive neighbourhood. Most kids who went to your school probably lived in these buildings. The one you were supposed to go at though was on the top floor and you’re already angry that this buttcrack insisted on delivery and manipulated poor Marion into having his stuff delivered to his door rather than being at the front reception so the exchange could be faster.

When you reach the top floor, you pull out the receipt to hand it to him first thing as he opens the door and don’t have to spend more time than necessary in this place that you felt so out-of-place in. You’ve already rung the doorbell while you read the receipt and that’s mistake number one that night. It dawns on you who this person must be when you’re reading the names of the exact items Taehyung had bought from you last week. You could turn around and go really. Only if you hadn’t already rang the doorbell and he hadn’t opened it right as you’re setting the heavy bag down.

“Well hello there.” His deep voice is an anchor itself as you stop your movements right then and look up at his smirking face that looking down at you. Ugh. Like always.

“Hi.” Slowly, you straighten yourself up, the bag still near your feet as you step away, trying not to gawk at his perfectly toned skin that is showing way too much from between his unbuttoned shirt. “Here’s your stuff. Goodbye.”

“Oh good. You can set it inside in the kitchen.” You’re gritting your teeth in order to stop yourself from slapping his cheery voice right out of his throat with a punch. Okay maybe that’ll be too much. Maybe. You won’t know until you try though.

“Come on.” He’s gesturing inside his expensive apartment that shinier and cleaner than any place you’ve ever seen. He probably has it professionally cleaned.

“I’m not coming inside you weirdo.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not my type.” Somehow that makes you even more mad and you hate that it does. Fuck him honestly. You knew you weren’t his ‘type’. His type included skinny, rich and bad artists. Just so he could get off on a power-control dynamic you’re guessing.

You just pick up the heavy package without breaking eye contact and step inside, walking straight to the kitchen and placing the materials on the counter. The inside décor is surprising when you take in the various canvases strewn about in the living room on different easels. But what really takes your breath away is the familiar artwork that you’d looked at time and time again when you’d been lacking inspiration. When you’d been in a rut and everything had been too much and all you would want to do is quit. But looking at the work that evoked emotions from a place inside that even you hadn’t still made sense of it was the only thing that had kept you going many times throughout the years you’d been at university.

But how was Taehyung interested in such underrated art? You’d never heard him mention Vincent Van Gogh before. And yet most of his paintings covered the walls of his apartment.

“You like Van Gogh?” Taehyung has gone back to his pallet as he mixes the various shades of reds and oranges together.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Like, all of our school?”

“Nah. They pretend that better artists exist.” His answer surprises you. You’d never pegged him as someone who appreciated the more sombre period of art. His paintings usually were a lot more cheery and sometimes rather complicated.

You’re kind of lost in the long hallway covered with several paintings. The tall ceilings and the dim lighting only making you more excited to take in such beautiful art in silence with the only sound being the bristles of Taehyung’s brushes across the canvas.

“You like his work too I assume?”

“Mhm.” You’re too lost in the various paintings to really properly answer him. You’ve almost forgotten where you are until Taehyung speaks again. But this time, from somewhere far closer as you can smell the musky scent that always accompanied him.

“This one is my favourite.” His voice startles you a little when he appears just behind you, slightly to the side so you can look to the side and watch his long neck fall back when he looks up at the painting.

“I like it too.” Your voice is quieter than before. Like neither of you want to disturb the air surrounding you. It’s probably the first time you haven’t felt instantly annoyed by Taehyung’s presence. When you look besides you again, you don’t realise it’s the second mistake you’ve made that night. Because Taehyung is staring right back at you and this time he doesn’t stop. Your breath hitches in your throat when you catch his dimly lit face staring intensely at you. Or maybe it was the lighting that amplified every look. Every gesture. Whatever it was, in that moment, you’d never felt more attracted to Kim Taehyung.

“I lied.” His whisper floats across your skin and the light breeze that comes with the breath from his words has your eyes closing for just a few seconds longer when they blink.

“A-About what?” Taehyung has somehow moved even closer because you could feel the heat from his chest seeping through your own shirt. It also didn’t help that his shirt was fully unbuttoned and the smooth expanse of his chest was absolutely bare for your traitorous eyes to feast on.

He brings up a hand, slowly as if not to startle you like he had last week, and tucked the stray strand of hair behind your ear. “About you not being my type.”

The only thing your body seems to be able to do at the moment is turn your face back towards the painting, heart thudding in your chest as you feel his hands move all of the hair from your neck out of the way to the other side. Exposing the sensitive flesh to the cool air inside his apartment. “You’re exactly my type and better.”

This time the words are whispered s close to your ear that you have to physically clutch tightly on to yourself so you don’t flinch from his breath tickling the flesh of your neck. You’re biting your lip, trying not make any sudden movements or noise because honestly, you didn’t trust yourself to not jump his bones. How was he this sexy and annoying at the same time?

“I kn-know.” You’re hoping that teasing is evident in your voice but that plan has gone down the gutter as soon as Taehyung presses his luscious lips in to an open mouthed kiss against the side of your throat. So instead, your response comes out way too breathy and you can’t stop the moan escaping you in the end.

“You’re just always looking for trouble aren’t you, y/n?” How is his voice perfectly steady? He doesn’t even sound remotely affected as he brings his arms around you from behind, fully moving behind you as well while he continues to undo the strings of control you had tied tightly around your brain. Because seems like you’re only thinking with your vagina at the moment.

His hand have slipped beneath your shirt after playing with the hem for a few seconds and testing the waters. When you don’t push his hands away – you could barely breath at the moment – he slips them inside your thin shirt, tracing circles across your torso and up until his warm, large – so fucking huge – hands are taking handfuls of your breasts before he’s gently squeezing the mounds.

“Oh.” You feel like you’re going boneless by the second as your head lolls back and on to his shoulder and you’re just praying that your brain shuts up and lets you enjoy these sensations without the red alarm bells going off in your head that you hated him!

You hit mute on said alarms as soon as you feel his index finger and thumbs rolling your puffy nipples through the fabric of your bra into hardened pointy tips and you’ve finally lost the filter on your mouth. “F-Fuck. Taehyung, ungh.”

“Look at you. Thought you hated me, huh?”

“I still, mh f-fuck, d-do.” Being a slave to your stubborn ways, you’re retaliating with your words before you can even keep yourself in check. Taehyung doesn’t seem to be bothered though. He’s just chuckling at your pathetic attempts at trying to hold on to some autonomy even if your body is betraying the fuck out of you. The constant squeezing, rolling and pinching of your nipples has you almost mindless, you’re not sure you can survive much more than this.

“Sure. At least your body doesn’t lie though.” He’s squeezing the mounds firmly this time before he’s slipping one of his hands downwards again. You’re aching and wet and aroused beyond words but finally you’re up to the point where you can easily ignore the rational side of your brain and let your body take control.

Breathing loudly, you’re almost panting with every inch that Taehyung’s hand moves closer to your underwear. You’re so soaked that you can feel your panties sticking to the contours of your pussy lewdly and knowing that Taehyung was about to touch you there had you dripping in more. You can’t remember the last time you were this horny from just foreplay.

Taehyung closes his lips around your pulse point before he sucks a punishing bruise in that patch of skin. “Spread your legs y/n. That’s it.”

He’s cooing at you when you instantly comply, whimpering his name when he presses his entire palm on your clit, rubbing the hard nub in gentle circles while you’re about to cum just from his words alone.

“Look at you. So wet and soaking. Have you always been this wet when you’ve been giving me nasty looks baby? Hm? Tell me.” His pace is increasing and the audible sound of your arousal coming through the layers of clothing makes you want to hide your face from the sheer embarrassment.

“T-Tae. Please.” You’re pleading sounds like you’re on the verge of tears and it’s not too far off from the truth. Your legs are spread but not enough for you to completely enjoy the feel of his hands. Not that he seems to be in any rush though.

“Please what y/n? Please use your pussy as your apology? Are you going to be a mouthy slut or let me use your cunt to milk my cock? It’s the least I deserve after the way you’ve treated me in every lecture.”

He’s pouting in mock hurt as he leans his head forward to look in to your eyes as if you’re not being destroyed by the fast paced circling of your clit under his palm. Your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes half shut as the mind blowing orgasm looms around the corner. You’re about to cry from happiness and relief when he slips your underwear to the side, sliding his middle and index finger in without a warning and without remorse. The force with which he’s pumped his long, thick digits inside jerking back against him. Which only makes matters worse when you can feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing against your back. You’re slightly terrified from the sheer bulk of his erection too because it sits hot and heavy behind you. You just know he isn’t the average size you’re used to and that excite and scares you at the same time.

“Would you listen to that? Your cunt is singing for me babe.” You’d smack him across his chest for being so dramatic and cheesy but the sounds of your excessive wetness just has you hiding your face in his neck. But Taehyung is having none of it when he’s harshly tugging back your head as he weaves his hand in your hair.

“I said listen. You slutty pussy is leaking for me y/n. And you pretend to not even be able to stand my existence.” His words are harsh and said from between his gritted teeth. The sounds of the inside of his palm slapping against your clit with every thrust is obscene and rude. Yet, you can’t seem to care. Only moaning loudly and in a higher pitch with every smack against your heated flesh. Arousal drips steadily around his fingers while your symphony of ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’ continues – almost sounding like you were in pain.

His grip around your hair is harsh and his pace inside your pussy relentless. It’s like he’s angry. Angry that you’re this wet. Angry that you’re ready to cum around his fingers just like this. That makes the two of you.

“Come on baby. Cum around my fingers. I’ll need it to prep myself before I enter this pussy, hm? You’re too tight for me to just impale you on my cock right now like you want me to. Don’t you?” You’re nodding enthusiastically as your breath hitches with your orgasm ripping through you like a wildfire,

“Taehyung! Fuck I-I’m cumming. Oh god…” You’re heaving and hiccupping as his rigid fingers continue to brush against your sensitive insides until you’re jerking back with each thrust.

“There you go. Easy… easy, baby.” You’re panting like you’ve run a marathon and your neck aches from being bent that way while Taehyung had your head captive.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover as he’s turning you around to pick you up and take you back to the living room, dropping your body down on to the fuzzy carpeted floor. He makes quick work of his shirt and his pants, ridding himself of every item of clothing – not that he was wearing much – before he takes his soiled fingers and wraps them around his extremely intimidating girth. He doesn’t seem nearly as nervous as you but you still don’t stop him. “Take off your clothes for me baby. I want to see you.”

Your body is moving instantly like it was programmed to listen to Taehyung’s every command. Soon, you’re laying back down on the ground, watching him stroke his incredibly hard cock that stood rigid against his toned stomach. He looks like a wolf that’s about to devour you as his pokes out from between the corner of his lips, eyes neve wavering from your own. You’re biting your own lips and squirming on the soft carpet when he just keeps looking and makes no move.

“Spread your legs again baby. Let me see you pussy.” He hisses as soon as your legs fall open, your red, slightly swollen pussy coming in to full view as he finally kneels down to his knees, grabbing your thighs to pull you closer until you were flush against his cock. His hands gently massage the area between your thighs and pussy, needing the rosy flesh and effectively making you drip even more when he looks directly down at his hands that work your labia softly – keeping in mind how sensitive you were.

“Look at you. So puffy. So wet. So fucking beautiful.” He leans forward to look in to your eyes and you’re holding on to your breath when you finally see his face so up close for the first time this evening.

“Can I make you feel good, honey? Will you let my cock make you feel good?” There is no hesitancy in your reply because you’re fisting the soft rug besides you and arching your body in to his.

“Fuck,” it’s the first time you can hear Taehyung’s voice shake as he adjusts his hips and rubs he blunt head of his blood fattened cock against your swollen labia. “I’ve wanted you for so long, y/n. I can’t believe you’re here. Are you sure baby? Because I won’t be able to stop or go gentle once I s-start. Oh fuck.”

You can see how desperate he is for you to say yes but nonetheless, your heart still warms at his concern and even though you were slightly scared of his above average length – and girth – you were mostly excited as the anticipation had built steadily. So you give him the green light, nodding for him to continue.

He seems to be surprised too for some reason and you’re caught off gard when his mouth crashed down to your own. His kiss is ferocious and passionate, tilting his head every which way to capture every noise you make, tongue playing with your own. You’re just enjoying the out of the blue kiss until it all makes sense. Because when you break apart from the kiss to shout out your surprise, you can feel all of his hot length pressing the deepest corners inside your pussy. The kiss had been a perfect distraction and you hadn’t even felt the pain when he’d pushed in.

In fact, the slight burn that was present as he let you adjust around him was more arousing than anything. “T-Tae ungh. You’re s-so big. Oh god.”

He’s watching every facial expression you make and he doesn’t miss the almost drunk expression on your pretty face when he drags his length out slowly, only to slam back inside. Your breasts bounce with every thrust that pushes you further up the carpeted floor. It feels better than good. Better than amazing. You’d never thought you’d enjoy penetrative sex this much after having several mediocre experiences but at this moment, all you wanted to do was egg Taehyung on to go as fast as he could. So you do.

“Fuck y/n.” The seat of his lap slaps against your damp skin as he pounds his leaking cock in to you unremittingly. “You’re so t-tight. The tightest cunt I’ve ever been inside. You like it baby? Hm?”

Taehyung was definitely a dirty talker. All throughout this encounter. He hadn’t stayed quiet for longer than a minute. Always wanting to say what he was feeling, wanted to do to you or was going to do to you. And until today, you never realised how much of a sucker you were for verbal stimulation.

“Y-eh-ess. I lo-uh-ve it.” Your words bounce and hiccup out of you with the same rhythm as Taehyung’s dragging of his cock inside you. It’s like he’d grown even larger and you could cry from how good he felt inside. In fact, you were sure you probably were crying with how blurry your vision was getting.

Taehyung had fully covered your body with his own, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder now to split you open even more before he increased his pace until you felt like he was actually splitting you open.

“Tae! I’m going t-to c-cum again. Oh god.” He was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples as his gaze never left your face. You were actually crying now; clawing at his back as you held on while he parted you open every time he pushed the entire girth of his cock until the base so that with every thrust, his balls slapped against your ass obscenely.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock.” He could already see the white, translucid creaminess forming around the base of his cock as it continued to slam inside you, signalling how close he himself was with his cock leaking pre-cum profusely. “Fuck, you look so delectable darling. Look at how your pussy gapes around my cock every time, hm? Your pussy was made to fit around my cock. You’re m-mine now. Made j-just for my cock.”

You could tell how close he was since he’d seemed to lost all and every filter on his mouth. Pounding in to you while you clutch on to him for deer life and finally release around his cock that shows no sign of relenting until he reaches his own release. Thankfully, he’s not too far behind as he grabs your legs for the final round, pushing his hips in to the hilt before he’s shouting out his release. You can feel the warmth of his cum explode inside the walls of your pussy, filling you up to the brim until you could feel his spunk leak around you thoroughly abused lips. Taehyung lays his head in to the crook of your neck very much like how you had at the start.

It's peacefully silent as you both catch your breath, your fingers lazily massaging his scalp without even realising. You’re finally gathering your bearings and coming to terms with the fact that you just fucked each other’s brains out when you could barely stand each other before. And you absolutely do not know how to proceed from here. Not when his cock was still inside you. Thankfully, you don’t have to worry about that decision for too long because Taehyung is pulling back his face to stare in your eyes deeply as if he’s also at a loss for words.

You search his face for any disgust or any realisation that will make him pull away from you and you don’t know why you’re this nervous and worried about his reaction. You didn’t care before so why now? Why was your heart beating so fast that you felt like it was going to come out of your mouth?

“Y/N,” Taehyung post-sex, sexy voice breaks you out of your downward spiral as he brings his hand up to caress your cheek damp from the tears earlier. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You watch him for a few seconds before nodding slowly and that’s all the confirmation Taehyung needs before taking your lips between his once again. And just like that, he kisses you lazily, tangling his hot, sweet tongue with your own for who knows how long. You two stay just like that for a long time, kissing ecahother with so much passion that it scares you how much the thought of breaking away from his lips gives you anxiety. It seems to be the same case for Taehyung because when you break apart to breathe in much needed air, he pulls you back in – mouth open and tongue seeking your own.

Sometime during the night, he’s started to harden inside you once again and rather than breaking away, he fucks you exactly the opposite way he had earlier. This time, it’s slow, even more sensual and the space between your body is almost non-existent. By the time your phone rings and breaks you both out of the haze that had you both intoxicated in the apartment, it’s sometime around midnight. Though Taehyung doesn’t stop even for a second until he’s made you cum once again and spilled himself inside you as well.

The night had definitely taken a turn as you both talk – for once without the intention of insulting each other – and fuck. Mostly fuck actually. Turns out Taehyung made you insatiable and his eagerness and fondness for cumming inside you didn’t exactly help. After replying to Minnie and sending Marion a message of apology, you’re both dozing off on the soft floor.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Come to my art exhibition with me? I want you by my side.” He asks you in the morning, slightly breathless as he grinds his erection – seriously, how often did this boy get hard? – against your damp, soiled pussy, awaking you from your sleep.

“O-Okay.” You can only moan in reply as he takes a nipple between his lips, sucking gently as he coaxes out another orgasm from you before carrying you off to the shower.

“You’re such a horn dog.” Splashing water at his face, you’re laughing as he attacks your sides, tickling you in revenge.

“A horn dog you slept like, a thousand times with.” Your mouth is falling open in mock disbelief but he just kisses your frown away.

“It will be zero times if I see that sex painting at your show!” Taehyung is giggling at your pout and the frown that creases your brows as he kisses it away, promising you that you can burn his ‘sex painting’ before the show.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

a/n: thoughts? :ooo

#bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #hobiwonder #i hope you guys like it!!

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years ago

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I Can’t Eat Love pt 16

Here’s the next part. This involves quite a bit of a time skip.

Next part marks the halfway point of the story, bringing us back to the very first scene between Ronan and Lenora. Things are definitely going to change!

Master Post Link here

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The Duchy flourished.

We trained our new officials and solidified checks and balances to keep things honest and efficient. The school expanded to multiple trades, and soon I was cooperating with other nobles to open up similar establishments across the kingdom. Through it all, Armeny led the way, becoming a center for trade, skilled workers and culture.

Another year had passed, I was seventeen, and coming up on the last year before the big scandal that had ruined my life the first time around. I knew that I needed to move out of the spotlight, so that my fall from grace would have as little as an effect as possible of the work I had already accomplished.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about the business “Prosperity.” No one seemed to realize that I was in charge, and simply seemed to think I was one of their most loyal customers. I would be able to continue to run things from behind the scenes.

But the Duchy was a different story. Most of the nobility knew by this point that I was the one actually in charge. At first, some of the older men had protested to my father, decrying it as “unnatural” and “harmful.” Fortunately the Duke’s laziness was not to be underestimated. After getting a chance to live a life free of the responsibilities he hated, my father was not going to be coerced into taking them on again. He simply told them he couldn’t be bothered, and that everything would work out in the end. In the face of his never faltering, if vaguely directed optimism, they were forced to give up.

I had been left in relative peace since then, but that would change once my reputation and status were ruined. To prepare for that, I needed a figurehead. Someone who could help to run the Duchy instead of me, but wouldn’t try to change too many things whenever I wasn’t looking.

And so, I sent for Henry.

A distant cousin on my father’s side, Henry was officially the heir of the title.

Traditionally he should have been at my father’s side, learning to take over from the time he was young, but that seemed that it had been too much effort for the Duke. I had met him only a few times over the years, he was always quiet, intelligent… if a little boring to talk to, and a hard worker. He spent most of his time studying the different uses of plants, and publishing his findings.

He had never inherited the title in my previous life. After my family fell from grace, the Duchy had been absorbed by its neighbors, and as far as I knew he lived his life either unaware or not caring that his inheritance had disappeared. He seemed to find joy in scientific study rather than money and the company of others.

He was perfect.

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“So I am to take over the Duchy?” Henry sat across from me, drinking tea, his gaze more on the floor than on me.

“In part. You’ll be taking on some of the workload, but I’ll still have a hand in making sure things stay on track.”

He thought that over for a few moments, sighing. “What’s in it for me?”

THAT caught me off guard.

“You’ll have to be the Duke eventually, and this is part of the job. Also, you get to live in a nice house, you won’t have to worry about money…”

“But I really don’t want the title! I have everything I need at my home.” He shook his head. “I may not have money or a big house… but my plants…

“I’ll build you a greenhouse, and move your plants here so you can continue your studies. I’ll even buy you more plants if you like…”

“I’ll move in next week.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his immediate agreement once plants were involved.

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We built a greenhouse, and Henry moved in without causing much fuss. He took to the administrative work naturally. I found to my delight that not only was he easy to work with, but when we had time he would take me through the greenhouse, teaching me the various uses of different herbs and plants.

“And this is winterblue…” He pointed out a leafy green plant without flowers. On looking closer I noticed that the edges of the leaves were tinged with a light blue.

“What does it do?” I felt the leaf between my fingers, noting how soft it was.

“Nothing too amazing. If you brew tea with it, it can boost the body’s health. So if someone is showing early signs of illness, this can be a good thing to give them.”

“Anything poisonous in here?” I was mostly joking, but Henry nodded seriously, pointing at the far corner of the greenhouse.

“The more you know about these kinds of things, the better.” He grimaced. “I study a few of these poisons in hopes of understanding how to negate or treat them.”

“Just keep a close eye on them, please.” It made me nervous to have poisonous plants on the grounds, but after a few months of working with Henry I knew better than to try to persuade him to get rid of a plant. “I’d hate to see them fall into the wrong hands.”

__________________________________

My etiquette lessons completed a year earlier than they had in my previous life, having covered a great amount more of material.

Mrs. Rendler pronounced me a natural genius and claimed I was the best student she had ever trained. I was slightly uncomfortable with the title, given the extra three years advantage that I had, but it wasn’t as if I could set the record straight. I had hoped as the lessons were over I could be excused from visiting the palace, but found myself spending the designated days with the Queen, instead.

The reason given was that I would follow her around, “to get a feel for the work the Queen has to do.” And for perhaps a single week she stuck to this, but it almost immediately evolved into “all the mother-daughter activities Queen Amerande has wanted to do but couldn’t find an excuse to before.”

We visited other families together, went shopping, walked through various gardens and public sites. I meant to beg off in the beginning, to make excuses and miss the less than useful meetings, but… She was so excited each time. She smiled when she saw me, asking about my week. We would talk for hours, and although I tried to keep as much back as I could, she somehow would manage to get me to talk about whatever was going on.

It was painful, sometimes. She acted every bit the mother I had always wanted, but I remained aware that it had to be a simple charade. Something that would end once the engagement was broken. And she must have sensed my concern about this to some extent, because although she continued to treat me as she always had, if not closer, the necklace I had refused remained in her jewelry box, likely waiting to be given to Edith once the prince chose her.

It was what I had told her to do, but it still made me uncomfortable to think about.

__________________________________

Through the next years Nate and I continued to write each other. He seemed to be doing well back in his home country, and was implementing many of the changes we had tried in my duchy back there. His letters were always long, filled with excited rambling that made me smile. It reminded me of how enthusiastic he always was during classes to come up with ideas for the Duchy.

I missed the time we had all spent together. I still visited the royal treasury once a month but it was more to help Jim teach his newer students than anything else. If I ran into a complex problem I either wrote to Nate for advice or visited Jim on a free day to talk it out. I appreciated still having their support… but it was just not the same as it had been.

The letters were often awkwardly worded, as Nate struggled desperately to not reveal his identity through them. He slipped frequently, but I refused to think about it, or consider any obvious clues. I didn’t want to care anything about him… the less I knew about him, the better.

And if I was always happy to receive a letter from him… it was because I valued his expertise in economics… not because I cared at all.

__________________________________

I slowly paid off the family debt, and between the now three stores I owned with Maline, we were both wealthier than I had ever expected to be. We had even opened a branch store geared towards the average person, with well made clothes sold at affordable cost, and soon had to hire more and more people. I was funding my father and mother, as well as Henry’s expenses, but still had plenty more. I put more into the food charity and schools, not forgetting what it was like to not have a job or regular food.

The Duchy was thriving. The family was wealthy. I had prepared everything I could.

The future would be different this time.

__________________________________

“Miss?” Hallers opened the door, finding me sitting in my office despite the fact that it was well before dawn. “Is everything all right? Why aren’t you in bed?”

I sighed, looking at him with a sad smile. “I’m sorry if I woke you, Hallers. I couldn’t sleep. Just trying to mentally prepare for the future.”

Today was the day before Ronan’s eighteenth birthday. It was the day of my last “lesson” with the Queen, my last tea with the prince.

The day that had ruined my life was tomorrow.

“I beg your pardon, Miss, but if anyone had prepared for the future, it’s you.You can’t predict everything, but you’ve worked hard and helped those around you.” He smiled, startling me. “ You’ll be a wonderful queen one day, if you don’t mind me saying.”

I laughed at that, not able to explain the irony of his words. He would understand tomorrow. “Try not to put too much faith in me, Hallers, you’ll only be disappointed.”

He leaned over and squeezed my hand, his eyes kind. “I normally would never disagree with you, it’s not a butler’s place, but I will now: You could never disappoint me. I have never been so proud of someone, as I have been with you.”

“…” I stared at him in shock, as he slowly stood back up, resuming his professional stance.

“Now, you can go back to your room and have a short nap. We’ll bring you some breakfast and send you off to the palace once you’re ready.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that clear?”

I stood up, chuckling. “What would I do without you, Hallers?”

“Don’t worry, Miss. You won’t ever have to find out.”

__________________________________

My last tea with the Prince was as boring as ever. I hadn’t been able to bring Edith today, as I was able to most weeks, her mother had wanted her to stay home for a dress fitting. Edith had been annoyed, Ronan was irritated once he realized she wasn’t going to be there, and I wasn’t too happy either. Normally I let them chat together, reading a book as they ignored my existence, him bragging and her complimenting.

But today...

“How are your birthday preparations coming along?”

“…” He stared down at the table, refusing to talk. I sipped at my tea, silently glad as I always was that I never let Hallers come along for these outings. I wasn’t sure if the butler had ever killed anyone before, and I wasn’t about to let the Prince be his first victim.

I kept talking, pretending this was a cordial conversation. “I heard your mother hired some of the best musicians around, so the music should be lovely. Of course food will be wonderful…”

This WAS the one thing I had been looking forward to. The royal chef was amazing, and I had missed out on the food at the party last time as I had left in tears after he broke the engagement. This time around I was determined to get to try some.

“…” He nodded silently, pretending I didn’t exist. I reached the end of my patience.

“Well, this has been wonderful, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave early. I need to say goodbye to your mother before I leave, and then finish preparations for the party.” I stood up, relieved I wouldn’t have to pretend enjoy his presence after tomorrow, as I turned to walk away, however, he called out, stopping me.

“Lenora?

“Yes?” I looked back at him. He seemed uncomfortable, but forced himself to speak.

“We’ll need to talk tomorrow, come find me as soon as you arrive at the party.”

Before I even get to eat? “Sure.”

I walked away, wondering how I could hide from him long enough to eat the food before he broke off the engagement, in case I had to leave the party.

__________________________________

“We need to talk tomorrow.” The prince’s face was serious.

“Of course!” I smiled, hoping he thought I looked pretty. “However long you need!”

I walked away, feeling excited. Perhaps the time we were spending together was finally taking effect! Maybe he wants to tell me he loves me! With this and other fanciful imaginings, I thought of little else for the rest of the day

__________________________________

“The tea ended so early, did it not go well?” Queen Amerande asked me with a frown as I approached to say goodbye.

“He really wasn’t in the mood to talk.” Especially not to me.

She reached out, hugging me tightly. “Dear, I appreciate you giving as much time as you have to this, I’m sorry he… he’s like this.”

“It’s fine.”

And it was.

I cared little for his personality, habits, or lack of etiquette. It was amazing how freeing realizing that he and I were never going to be married was in how I viewed him. I had always worried I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t pretty or clever or graceful enough to catch his eye. But now, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want him to notice me.

“No, it’s not. He shouldn’t treat you so poorly.” She sighed. “He’s my son, I love him… but that doesn’t mean I wish I could shake some sense into him sometimes.”

“You can’t force these things.” I smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I spoke the words I realized: it was the last time we would get to see each other in such a casual setting. My stomach started hurting. I would need to ask Henry to see if he could brew me tea for stomachaches.

Which reminded me…

“I brought you something.” I reached into my pockets, pulling out a packet of dried winterblue leaves. “I was worried you were sounding ill, so if you brew this into your tea, it should help you feel better.

In truth, she didn’t sound sick at all, but I knew she would be soon.

__________________________________

“Where’s the Queen?” It was my first question on arriving to the party. I was nervous, curious about what the prince wanted to talk to me about. I had wanted to see the Queen first, but looking around the ballroom, I didn’t see her anywhere.

“I heard she was too ill this morning to attend.” Edith smiled at me as she spoke. She was dressed much nicer than normal, and seemed… excited, almost. I wondered what was going on, but dismissed the question as soon as I thought of it.

“I hope she feels better soon.” I murmured, making plans to visit the next day.

Edith’s smile widened. “I’m sure she will.”

__________________________________

I had never gotten a chance to visit her after the engagement had been broken, but I remembered hearing that it had taken her quite a few days to recover.

Of course… it might have all been an excuse to avoid me after her son broke our engagement.

Even as that dark thought crossed my mind, I handed her the tea. If she truly did get sick in the past life, maybe the tea would help, and if not… well, the tea wouldn’t hurt.

Queen Amerande took the tea, looking slightly confused. “You know, I must look more sick than I realized. I feel fine, but this is the second time someone has given me tea today.”

That caught my attention, “Someone else brought you tea?”

“Yes, your friend Edith brought me some tea leaves earlier today. She said it would help ‘calm my nerves.’” She shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling stressed, but since she was a close friend of yours I was planning on trying it tonight to be polite. But now I’m afraid I won’t.” She clutched the tea I had handed her, looking extremely happy. “My daughter gave me something better so of course I have to use that instead!”

Dancing around, you would have thought I had given her jewels or gold rather than a simple bag of died leaves. “It will be the best tea I’ve ever had!”

I laughed at that. “You haven’t even tried it yet!”

“You gave it to me! So it’s the best!” She pretended to frown for a moment and then gave me a hug.

I hugged her back, and then made my goodbyes, preparing to leave. The Queen stopped me, handing me a different tea bag. “Here. This is the tea Edith gave me. It’s not the most polite thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t really drink medicinal tea all that often.” She grinned. “Unless of course it’s been given to me by family. You’ve had a lot going on lately, though, so maybe it can help with your stress.”

Shrugging, I took the bag. I would likely throw it away, I wasn’t very eager to try anything from Edith. I was curious that she had made the trip up earlier without me to see the queen, but on closer thought, it made sense. Edith was going to be engaged to the prince soon. She was probably trying to make a good impression on her future mother in law.

It was funny… I had no issues with the thought of her marrying Ronan, my fiancé… but the idea of her being Queen Amerande’s daughter in law made me want to scream in frustration.

I must just be tired.

__________________________________

I headed home, feeling determined. Tomorrow was the day I had been preparing for ever since I had been reborn. So much was different, but still this day always had loomed ahead, a reminder of the terrible ending I had once faced.

It would be different this time.

I was different this time.

I was ready.

#writing #i can't eat love #second life #fantasy #didn't want to stay in the first three yea

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faedawayyy · 4 years ago

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THIS IS POST 2: CHARACTERS WHO HAVE SOME STORYLINES AND PLOTS ALREADY BUT AREN’T NEARLY AS ESTABLISHED AS THEY COULD BE. THEIR PLOTS WILL INCLUDE MORE LOOKING FOR LOVE AND MESSINESS BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE AS MANY COMMITMENTS AS THE ONES IN POST ONE.

MILES

the only carmichael boy who is officially single from his household. i feel like this has definitely caused his mum to push her attention on to him, particularly because he lives at home. she definitely wants him to settle down with somebody and at the moment, he fake dates arabella to keep her happy but there’s more i can get out of this. SOOOOOOO...

- HIS PLANNED GIRLFRIEND/WIFE: this was charlie at one point but she has more with leo now so it doesn’t really make sense. somebody from a wealthy family who his parents wanted him to end up with. maybe they’re constantly pushing them together but the two of them HATE each other with a passion and do everything they can to mess up their parents plans. - FWB: he’s been in the shadows for quite a while which isn’t a surprise given how much leo, mason and brody have going on. but, now he’s getting a bit older, i think he’d be more confident in himself and i can totally see him hooking up after events and stuff and having a few fwb. it’d be cool if these had different dynamics too like unrequited crushes/people using him for fame etc. - MALE FRIENDSHIPS: he’d definitely hang out with people in his family’s circle but also people who are different and come from different walks of life. as a general rule, he’s chill and not big on aesthetics and appearances if that helps anybody!

NATE

HE’S LIKE MY 2021 DALLAS AND THAT’S THE DIRECTION I WANT TO MOVE HIM IN. he’s a rising star in terms of his music and also has a minor acting and modelling career. he definitely gets the right amount of hype too so i think he’s the best choice out of my new guys to really give like the whole ‘rising star’ thing. i have QUITE A FEW ideas for him bc i’m excited!

SIDE NOTE: him and imogen aren’t officially end game. like they might be? but what i’m trying to say is me and nadine haven’t plotted anything like that. their official plot is that they were dating behind charlie’s back when imogen was with charlie. now imogen isn’t w.charlie, they flirt and hook up but are p.toxic and argumentative.

- FWB/RUMOURED PARTNERS: this one goes w/o saying. i think i’m going to cap the plot at about 3 (not including imogen). maybe 3 different girls he’s linked with and has his own thing with. bonus points if one of these is a PR arrangement and it doesn’t go any deeper than public appearances. - SECRET SHARERS: so with his career getting bigger, i think he’d be more serious about keeping his secret which is basically back in high school, him and a few of his friends are responsible for leaving another guy in a coma (he’s still in it now) after they spiked his drink to stop him from exposing them for cheating their way into st judes. i need maybe 3 or 4 people who all had a hand in this but we can work it out together.

- FRIENDS/PEOPLE HELPING WITH HIS CAREER ETC.

EZRA

i’m kinda stuck with ezra. i have ideas but i dont know what the best way to execute them will be? so, he obviously has his son - nicolas - who is being raised by his mother atm. he’s natalie’s son; ezra and natalie were high school sweethearts but have gone their separate ways, they coparent as much as they can. this year ezra has got closer to madison and then felicity but in both relationships found they weren’t really satisfied with just him and flirted with others...so he’s kind of in a weird place. - PLATONIC FRIENDSHIP: maybe someone who knows all about his son and has helped ezra raise him/keeping it all a secret. it would be strictly platonic. i think she/he would be ezra’s best friend and they wouldn’t have any grey area. there’s no romantic feelings but the bond is strong.

- EX: in between natalie and then felicity/madison. maybe they broke up because he wanted to focus on nicolas and didn’t have enough time for their relationship but there’s still feelings there. i just want somebody who genuinely loved/wanted him at one point and doesn’t always find someone better :’) we could develop how things unravel in 2021.

LUKE

luke’s father is the head of film at st judes and he has a lot of pressure on his shoulders to do well. at the moment, he’s in his good books because he’s a key part of the harry potter movies which is really pushing him and boosting his profile. he’s very focused on his work but also wants to branch out and make more connections. he’s currently interested in athena but i want to dig into his past a little more. - EX FRIENDS/RIVALS: a friend that luke grew up with and they both went into acting, that’s when the friendship became toxic. they were always trying to outdo one another and it’s continued on to this day; they both have good careers but aren’t satisfied unless they’re doing slightly better than the other one; this can be m or f.

- HIGH SCHOOL GIRLFRIEND: he went to gallagher high school. i think it’d be interesting if they were dating and looked as if they’d be typical high school sweethearts. maybe the plan was to live in one of his parents place, get regular jobs and settle down but then he chose his career/st judes and broke it off because it got too serious too soon. bonus points if she still hasn’t fully let him go bc she truly did love him.

- COMPLICATED EX: an ex he dated at the beginning of st judes and it just got toxic very fast. maybe the reverse of his high school girlfriend - she fell out of love with him/was stringing him along and now there’s a lot of tension.

- WILDER FRIENDS: he’s very clean cut at the moment and has pressure to be a good example for others bc his dad is so linked to the academy, but maybe friends who tempt him to go out more and enjoy this time/make memories/do crazier things.

TAEWAN

ok ok i’m getting bored but for taewan, it’s very similar to luke. BTS are really going to be pushed to be the best next year and this is going to create both new and break old connections for him sooooooo take a look.

RIVALS/INDUSTRY ENEMIES - artists who work just as hard, if not harder, than BTS but don’t see half of the benefits with advertisement and getting prime performance spots at award shows. i think there’ll even be rumours than BTS buy some of their awards. he’d 100% have enemies by this time next year and would lowkey be sad about it bc he knows BTS are in the wrong, but also his career means too much to just admit it. P.R. GIRLFRIEND - a girl who’s a rising star too and he’s placed in a fake relationship to boost both of their profiles. it’d need to be a relationship where they clash and do not get along with one another bc i think that’d be fun. maybe they grow to like each other or be at least friends in the end but !!! the more tension the better tbh.

LOVE INTEREST/BEST FRIEND - i feel like he’d have one person who is currently his best friend and they’ve always kind of had feelings for each other...but now BTS are blowing up and management are getting involved with who he’s seen with and who he can be with, their friendship is breaking down massively and they’re drifting.

BRIELLE

brielle has just moved in with imogen and park and she’s been thrown into like, the world of old money and the richest family’s in violet springs. she’s experiencing so much new for the first time. imogen and her friends have kind of taken brielle under their wing & her life has kinda separated into two.

PEOPLE WHO KNOW HER FROM THE STRIP CLUB - i’ve literally been begging for this connection since i had her. her main source of income is stripping and dancing at a sketchy club in london. i’d love to have someone who sees her regularly and even pays for her to perform for their. i feel like it could either be they become infatuated with her through it OR they lowkey do it as blackmail to make the point that they’ve always got something over her. OLD FRIENDSHIPS - people who have NO connection to the richer families and are friends with brielle from before. they know about her getting closer to imogen and the hamiltons and brielle is almost like their eyes on the inside, and they meet up and just gossip about everything that brielle has experienced. maybe one of these friends get a little jealous at some point and accuses her of forgetting who her real friends are/changing? NEW FRIENDSHIPS - people who DO have connections to that whole circle. maybe they get closer to brielle through events that she comes to with imogen OR they kind of mock her and treat her like an outcast. i definitely think she’d encounter some mean girls. ALSO new friends with benefits because why not! there’re so many possibilities. i’m just getting tired of typing LOL

YULIA

yulia currently lives in the home of the family she nannies for. this job funds her scholarship at st judes, but she tells everybody that those people are her parents and sisters. she gives off the impression that she was born rich and doesn’t mention her real family to anybody because she’s ashamed. she has a lot of self hatred when it comes to where she came from and is v.much continuing with ‘fake it ‘til you make it’.

GUYS SHE USES FOR PUBLICITY/MONEY - i think yulia wants nothing more than to be legitimately rich, so she’d be very picky about the guys she flirts with and gives her time too. she’s probably more determined to get a rich and famous boyfriend than she is about having a successful film career. her priorities are all over the place.

SOMEONE WHO HELPS HER CONTINUE HER LIE - maybe one or two friends who know she’s a nanny and they aren’t her family - but she doesn’t know that they know that. however, because they like her and/or feel bad for her, they play along and help her continue her lie.

ELOISE

eloise is the oldest calloway sister and even though she’s technically a “half” sister, she’s been raised with the other girls and is very close to them - especially zara. she’s the sensible one and often has the most level-head. she doesn’t take much shit but is also a hopeless romantic and loves to be in love. she really doesn’t have much at all right now so i could do with lots of different plots:

childhood friends, people who were like sisters to her when her real sisters weren’t.

an ex boyfriend and her first boyfriend. i feel like the break up would’ve hurt because she’s v attached to people

a close friend who has a ridiculously big crush on her atm; boy or girl idm! i feel like eloise wouldn’t know at first and maybe freak out when she finds out and we can see what happens from there

maybe friends/guys who have used her to get to her sister(s)

MARGO

MY BABYYYYYYY. margo is legit my favourite and thats saying a lot bc you guys know how much i love issy and hensley. she’s basically signed herself out of rehab and takes advantage of the fact that dallas is working SO hard to get everything done. she has a huge tendency to buy and drink her feelings away SOOOO.....

ENABLERS - i kind of want her to get in with ‘the wrong crowd’, and by that i mean like...people who don’t rly care that she’s an addict and want to have fun with her. i have a really specific connection in mind where they’re fwb but it’s no good for her; BUT she’s kind of easy and happy to have sex hjkl; so they just keep her on standby.

OTHER FWB - i really want her to just go through a massive sleeping around stage. i haven’t really found someone she ‘clicks’ with. she relies LOTS AND LOTS on park and even though they’re not romantic, he’s her safe space. but i think there’d be a lot of other people in her life who she gets different things from. some ideas could be excitement, or people who baby her, or someone who maybe cares a lot about her & its their only way of being in contact.

EX FRIENDS - friends who gave up on her after she went to rehab and became a mess. she’d hate them bc as tough as she acts, she HATES HATE HES being abandoned. that’s why she clings to park and disney sm, bc she knows that they’ve been her friends since the beginning.

#save #PLOTS

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arigatouiris · 5 years ago

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daughter of artemis // p.p — [10]

c h a p t e r t e n

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Author’s Note: THERE IS SO MUCH FLUFF UGH. I almost gagged with the fluff but heh. I love fluff. But, there’s also angst. I always try to portray a realistic romantic development, but yeah. I know I’m not even close to perfect. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 4830

10 // πράσινο green

❅

Normally, (y/n) loved the weekend. Weekend meant she could get her reading done, she wouldn’t have to go to school and spend 8 hours not talking to anyone, but watching them talk to each other. But, this was perhaps one of the first weekends she actually dreaded not being able to sit with MJ, Ned and Peter and chat about useless things. Especially Peter. Maybe it was because she had seen a vision of him that she felt this familiar sort of fondness for him, but Peter made her heart warm and fuzzy inside.

She liked almost everything about him—even the fact that he was Spiderman. The way she saw it, it wasn’t extraordinary that he had powers (coming from a family of literal Gods), it was extraordinary that he wanted to use them to help others.

He was doing something Gods were not, and this fact she appreciated more than the others. She knew what it meant to have powers others did not; and this always caused people to get in and over their heads with the power, because it made them better than the others. Not to mention, he was cute; not having had the chance to meet a boy or girl her age before, (y/n) found it easy to find Peter attractive, especially with how small his eyes became when he smiled or laughed, or how he blushed way too easily, which made it all the more amusing for her to tease him.

She didn’t know what this feeling was, but if she were to describe it, it would be warmth. A strange but similar warmth she felt only around her mother, long ago.

Walking to the supermarket, she wondered what Peter Parker was doing at that moment. Shaking her head off his thoughts, telling herself she was focusing on him way too much, she walked into the store, hearing the chime of the door as she entered. Heading to the health supplies counter, she stocked up on some more cotton and bandages, antiseptic, for emergencies. She ran out of her own supply when Peter stitched her up.

She heard the door chime, indicating someone else come into the store. It was a beautiful woman, brown hair and green eyes, wearing nothing but a regular green tee and jeans. It looked like she had a bag, but (y/n) didn’t bother. Turning back to the aisle, she focused on getting the right brand of antiseptic.

The door chimed again, causing (y/n) to chuckle since it was a Saturday and she least expected it to be a busy day for the local store. Turning to the door, she spotted two little girls, a blonde and a brunette, walk in with their little kindergarten bags. They looked to be around five and (y/n) narrowed her eyes. What are they doing alone? It’s a Saturday. Shrugging, she went back to grabbing more supplies, but paused when she heard it.

A gunshot sounded inside the store, near the shopkeeper. Rushing to see what it was, she spotted the woman, pointing a gun at the storekeeper, who was now dead. Her eyes widened as the woman turned around to spot the kids, before (y/n) rushed to her and snapped the gun out of her hands. The woman now turned to (y/n) and smirked once, before (y/n) felt a strange chill go down her spine.

Her eyes were an eerie green; green like moss, staring into her very soul. They were unnatural and for some reason, she felt like she had seen this color on an animal before, not sure which animal it might have been. Stepping back, she felt her heart drop at the arrival of fear. I can’t smell a henchman, she thought, panicking. She doesn’t even, she can’t be! I know what the Boar looks like—

Before she could complete that thought, the woman grabbed the gun and pointed it at (y/n), only to have the demigod reflect in reflex and kick the gun out of her hands once again; she aimed a punch at the woman, which the woman didn’t deflect, causing her to go backwards. Quickly turning to the kids behind her, (y/n) screamed at them, telling them to hide. She could see both the little girls run to the back, to hide behind one of the counters. Turning back to the strange green-eyed woman, (y/n) narrowed her eyes.

“What the hell are you?” She spat, before clutching on to her dagger tightly.

She was so glad she would never leave it at home. Her choice to never part with the dagger made sense each time. Rushing to the woman, (y/n) kicked to her side, which the woman once again didn’t deflect, and grabbed her hair and bashed her to the counter. The woman side stepped quickly, but (y/n) was faster; she held her dagger tightly and attempted to stab her at her side, but the woman instead clicked her tongue, swept her foot below (y/n)’s own footing, bringing the demigod down. A moment later, the woman ran off, outside the store. (y/n)’s first instinct was to run after her, but remembered the children.

Rushing to the counter at the back, she spotted a very scared blonde girl, but the brunette seemed rather calm. (y/n) knelt to their level and smiled.

“You girls okay?”

The brunette nodded. (y/n) could hear sirens from outside the store, and looked at the brunette who was checking her watch.

“My mom’s outside. She’s going to be so mad that I came out without her knowing.”

(y/n) chuckled, “You snuck out, huh?”

The brunette nodded proudly, “Yup.” She popped the ‘p’.

“You kicked her ass!” The brunette girl said, grinning widely.

(y/n)’s eyes widened at the word the child used, “Where did you learn that word?”

The girl smiled. The blonde girl with her, blinked a couple of times. (y/n) chuckled some more before holding both the girls’ hands and bringing them out. There were two police cars and a blonde woman standing in front of the store, who looked instantly relieved to see the girls. (y/n) would have smiled at the woman’s face if she hadn’t remembered one stark detail.

The blonde woman was the exact same woman she had seen in her vision. Five years ago, (y/n) saw four people in her vision. Two of whom she had already met, Natasha and Peter, and this was the third. The blonde woman, with a kind smile. As soon as she stepped in front of her, the woman knelt down and hugged the brunette, while the little blonde girl ran to another woman at the side.

“Morgan! Don’t ever do that again!” The woman scolded the girl, Morgan, and looked back at (y/n), causing her heart to flip.

Approaching her, (y/n) could feel her eyes widen and her heart rate increase. The woman smiled at her, before holding her hands in hers and thanking her repeatedly.

“I hate how shootings have become so common, I just… Thank you so much.”

“I…” She was breathless. “I didn’t do anything…” Her throat was suddenly very dry.

“You should come home,” The woman said, “Tony was so worried, he’s going to be thrilled that you actually put up a fight to save the girls.”

(y/n) wanted to shake her head, but the woman insisted some more. Morgan grinned and held the girl’s hand before nodding once more.

“I’m Ironman’s daughter.” She said, winking.

“I don’t think Ironman would want you to go around saying that to strangers.” (y/n) said, holding Morgan’s hand in hers, smiling at her.

“But you kicked that woman’s ass!” Morgan said, whispering.

(y/n) chuckled before following after Morgan’s mother, and sitting inside the car. She was definitely wealthy, but for some reason, (y/n) felt uncomfortable. She was just a random woman, with no relation to (y/n), so why did she see her in her vision? Peter too, it made no sense. She saw Natasha, and Natasha was the one who trained her; and her purpose was done. She saw Peter, but what purpose did Peter have to serve? What purpose did Morgan’s mother have to serve?

Ironman? So this is Tony Stark’s wife and daughter, (y/n) thought inside her head. Looking at Morgan, (y/n) grinned when the child smiled at her, watching her curiously.

“What’s up, Morgan?”

“What’s your name?” Morgan asked, tilting her head cutely.

Just as (y/n) was about to answer, Morgan’s mother’s phone rang.

“Yes, Tony, she’s fine, we’re coming back now. I’m bringing the girl home too. There was this girl who stayed behind and helped Morgan out, inside. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened.”

(y/n) blushed. No one had spoken about her like that before, especially not in front of her. The drive to Tony Stark’s place actually didn’t take as long as she expected. What she liked about the area was how green it was, a small cabin, enough for a small family. Her heart warmed at the sight of Morgan running inside, causing her mother to look at (y/n) and smile.

“You have very pretty eyes.” She said to (y/n), causing her to blush more.

You’re very beautiful, (y/n) thought internally, but didn’t say aloud. Once she was inside, she spotted the fourth and final person from her vision, staring right back at her, with an almost knowing expression. She blinked, wondering if he had recognized her somehow, but chose to keep quiet until he said something first. Strangely, she was not too surprised to spot him after having spotted Morgan’s mother. Tony Stark grinned widely at (y/n), and invariably, (y/n) felt at home.

“So you’re the fighter girl,” Tony said, chirpily. “Have we met? I feel like we’ve met? Have I come to your school or something years ago?”

(y/n) let out a breath, feeling all too nervous. He had seen her? That wasn’t possible. She let out a chuckle, indicating that she was nervous.

“Pepper, this calls for a nice dinner.”

“P-Pepper?” (y/n) asked, feeling her heart rate accelerate.

The woman in question looked slightly embarrassed and said, “With all the commotion, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Virginia Potts, Tony calls me Pepper for short. What’s your name?”

All of a sudden, (y/n) understood. Her eyes widened all too slowly, but once they did, everything around her numbed. It numbed in sound, visuals and every other sensory function; she had finally understood. She slowly turned to the blonde woman, Pepper, her eyes still wide, but couldn’t hear a word anyone was saying. It was as if she was sinking in water, inaudible sounds came from Tony’s mouth.

Tony.

Pepper is linked to her father.

Turning to Tony, her eyes filled with tears, but she couldn’t blink them away in time. A stray tear trickled down her left cheek, her jaw opening slightly, the feeling in her fingers gone. Tony seemed to stop talking and was now just looking at her, and when Morgan grabbed her hand, every feeling came back, crashing into her like a tidal wave.

She almost gasped at the intensity.

“You alright, kid?” She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead, and looked at Morgan, who was watching her cautiously.

Morgan is Tony Stark’s daughter.

And so was she.

Suddenly, she heard Peter’s voice. Peter was the only one in the vision whose purpose remained a mystery, with her having found out the reason for the other three. Peter’s voice lulled her into a reverie, a reverie that revealed more at that second if only she had paid attention.

Why is Tony Stark looking for you?

She felt her body suddenly shake, Pepper coming forward to help her but (y/n) put out an arm and shook her head. She felt the need to hide her face, she didn’t want Tony to see her, she didn’t want to be found; if there was anything that could stop her from becoming a God then it was him, sitting there on his living room couch, watching her with curious eyes.

He has a family, she thought, walking backwards. He doesn’t need more, he has a family, I’m not welcome, I can’t be, she thought, turning around and muttering a quiet apology. She rushed out, as awkward as it may have been, and made a run for it.

She may have been Tony Stark’s daughter, but he certainly wasn’t her dad.

❅

It was after a long time that Peter saw (y/n) on her roof again. He had made it a habit to go around her roof on most of his patrols, hoping to see her there sometime, training or reading or whatever that signified her. Ever since she was injured, she hadn’t come up to the roof at all, and even though he was glad she was resting and not overworking herself, he missed her there. He missed how the two of them would sometimes sit and talk about random things; he missed the silly details she would give him of animals and birds.

So that Saturday evening, he saw there on her roof, wiping away tears. His stomach flipped as he landed close to her, before going over to sit by her side. He removed his mask, since she knew his real identity.

“Hey…” He said, thinking twice on whether or not to take her hand in his.

In the end, he didn’t go for it. However, when he saw her wipe the last bit of tears away, his heart broke. She turned to him, eyes still watery, and embraced him, placing her chin on his shoulder, and Peter’s arms wrapped around her naturally. He waited for her to say something because he knew she needed time to compose herself. Seeing her this vulnerable almost made him feel a little relieved, not because he liked what he saw but because she allowed herself to reveal her weak moment to him.

“Hey…” She responded to his initial greeting, earning a smile from him.

They were quiet for a moment. Their breaths tackled each others’ and she didn’t meet his eyes. Peter wondered what would have happened if she did, his heart was in his throat, and several thoughts flew in his mind. He kept his gaze fixed at her, not looking away, not wanting to miss even the smallest of reactions that appeared on her face. She sniffed, before wiping away more tears, and blinked a couple of times, matching the fluttering of his heart.

“Can I take you up on that offer?” She asked, her voice raspy.

Peter blinked, not following. She looked up at him now, her eyes meeting his, and he swore to all Gods that she was perhaps the best thing he had laid eyes on; all addictions made sense to him now that she was in his life. She, single-handedly, managed to take his breath away and Peter would willingly give her any that was left.

But, as if it was an afterthought, Peter understood what she was talking about.

“Star Wars?” He whisper-yelled, excitedly.

When (y/n) giggled, he could feel himself masking his pride. Since when had making her laugh become something he could take deep pride in? She nodded and smiled at him, the corners of her eyes narrowing, and Peter smiled back, his heart warm, his life set.

“Of course! Tonight?” (y/n) nodded, and it was then she realized it.

She didn’t move because she didn’t want it to change. Her face reddened at the thought. Her eyes darted down, cautiously, not wanting to move Peter’s hand that was now resting on hers. She smiled a soft smile before looking back at him, going on and on about something related to Star Wars.

That evening, after Peter’s Patrol, he came home with his laptop and a bunch of snacks. (y/n) blinked as she opened her window and let him inside, her room now suddenly cleaner than before. Peter looked around and smiled at the girl, before plopping himself on her bed. When she sat beside him, the two of them paused for a moment before looking at one another.

Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching. It was as if something invisible was pulling them to each other, a strange force in the air that was telling Peter to grab her and hold her and filling indecent thoughts in (y/n)’s mind. As if they had noticed this hesitation, both of them bolted. Clearing their throats, the two scurried aside and placed a billow between them, feeling heat rush to their cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter let out, which was followed by, “I-It’s alright,” from her.

“What’s the first movie called?” She asked, wanting to change the topic.

“A N-New Hope.” Peter said, coughing once more.

When the movie started to play, (y/n) was strangely excited. During her stay in New York, this was the first movie she was watching with a friend, and it filled her heart with a fuzzy feeling. Peter watched her as she watched the movie, a soft smile playing on his lips, finding everything she did amusing; she was so beautiful, she was so strong, and yet so mysterious; he knew nothing about her but he knew he liked her. He liked her, God, he couldn’t even begin to explain this feeling. Sure, he felt strongly for Liz Allen, but that was nowhere close to whatever this was.

Peter turned back to the movie and chuckled to himself at his not so new revelation.

The next day in school, neither of them tell Ned or MJ that they had binged all of the sequel movies the night before. To (y/n) and Peter, it was now a secret that they shared amongst themselves, which they communicated using secret smiles, which no one else had access to.

During lunch, MJ and (y/n) were having an animated conversation about democracy, something that (y/n) knew a lot about. Peter was holding his lunch tray, watching (y/n) talk as he approached them. Not aware of a stray piece of fruit was in front of him on the floor, Peter tripped, falling flat on the table MJ and (y/n) were sitting at, sending his food tray flying downwards. (y/n) stood up to help him, grabbing what could be eaten off the food tray before it hit the ground, holding Peter’s hand and helping him up.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her face once again merely inches away from his, and Peter gulped. Just as he was about to stand, he slipped again, this time on absolutely nothing but his shyness.

Ned slapped his forehead before grabbing Peter by his bag and helping him up. Just as (y/n) sat back down, and MJ giving him a weird look, Ned turned to his friend and glared at him.

“What was that?” Ned whisper-yelled.

“I-I… I think I like (y/n)—”

“You think? You’ve been ogling at her ever since you laid eyes on her, and you think you like her? Peter, get a grip.”

Peter was blushing harder than he ever had before.

❅

That evening, (y/n) was walking back home, thinking of watching the prequel movies by herself since Peter didn’t want to watch them. She liked this thing she had with Peter, when he was not being Spiderman; not that she ever wanted him to forgo his duties as a superhero. As if she were caught thinking of him, she stopped when Spiderman landed right in front of her. Her eyes were wide, but a smile broke out on her face.

“Hi, Spidey.” (y/n) said, still walking. Spiderman accommodated and walked backwards, his face still facing her.

(y/n) squinted a bit before giggling once at what he was doing, before shaking her head, “What are you doing?”

Spiderman spread his hands to his side and said, “Why, I’m merely guiding a citizen home.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Peter’s heart almost stopped when she giggled again, at something he said, and found it oddly comforting that she knew he was Spiderman. And she wasn’t someone who needed to be protected too well, since she could hold her own rather well. Better than me, actually, he thought, albeit a bit proudly.

Suddenly, she stopped moving. Spiderman blinked and wondered what happened, noticing her carefree features suddenly turn into one of concentrated anger.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, seriously.

“It’s one of them.” She knew he didn’t have a clue of what she was talking about, but since Spiderman had saved her life from one of those creatures, she knew he picked up on her signal.

What she didn’t understand was what this creature was; the Boar was someone else entirely, and she had killed the Hyena and the Wolf. Who was this woman? And why did she not smell like the henchmen? Turning to her side, she spotted an old garbage disposal warehouse, and she knew that the woman was there. Turning to Spiderman, she nodded once before running toward the building, with him following right behind her.

She’s sneaky, (y/n) thought before entering the place. However, both Peter and (y/n) froze on the spot with who they saw in front of them. In the middle of the large warehouse sat Natasha Romanoff, tied up and gagged, looking at them with confusion. Beside Natasha stood the woman, pointing a gun at Nat’s head, smirking at the two of them. (y/n) had not seen Natasha in years, and seeing her like this after this gap caused her to feel nothing short of rage.

“Black Widow?!” Peter exclaimed, clearly confused.

“Peter,” (y/n) let out, “Pull that gun from her and free Natasha.”

Peter nodded and quickly used his webs to pull the gun from the woman, as (y/n) ran after her. Immediately going behind Natasha, Peter noticed how intricately the knots were tied, and he’d take a couple of minutes to free the woman. Meanwhile, (y/n) grabbed the green-eyed woman’s hand and twisted it behind her back, kicking her knee to the ground. The woman escaped briefly, before punching her, (y/n) caught her arm and kicked her in the chest, sending her backwards. As the two of them fought, (y/n) grabbed her dagger and turned it around her hand.

Natasha noticed the dagger and her suspicion was confirmed. This is (y/n), she thought as Peter struggled to free her. Natasha was foolish to have believed the woman when she looked helpless. The green eyed woman had come running to Natasha when she was going to get some coffee, and gestured to the building as if something had gone wrong. Falling into a trap like that, Natasha cursed at herself if nothing else.

(y/n) landed one more kick to the woman, before noticing how she was about to run again. But before she could make a run for it, Natasha grabbed the woman from the back and held her to (y/n). She nodded at (y/n) once and gestured for her to do it quickly. (y/n) held her dagger and approached her steadily.

Something then happened that scared (y/n). The green-eyed woman’s face morphed into something else—it was changing and both Peter and (y/n) looked at her with disgust. However, once this morphing ended, (y/n)’s eyes widened with fear.

There, staring right back at her, was the face of her mother, Artemis. No way, she thought, her grip on the dagger loosening. Tears filled her eyes as she almost forgot about who the woman was, it was as if she was suddenly in a daze, moving slowly toward what looked like her mother.

“Do it, (y/n)!” Peter screamed, but she could not hear him.

She walked towards the woman Natasha was holding and held the dagger to her side. Her mother’s face was staring back at her, smiling now, teary eyed. Pressing her lips together, (y/n) felt tears run down her eyes as she shoved the dagger into the woman’s heart, closing her eyes a moment after. Once again, like the Wolf, she turned to absolutely nothing and eroded away.

Falling to her knees, (y/n) breathed before wiping the tears from her eyes. Natasha watched her, knowing full well that the face she had seen was that of her mother’s. Peter crouched beside the girl and held her, holding her in his arms, and she was holding him back.

Natasha knelt in front of her and listened.

“That was… That was—”

“Was that the face of your mother?”

Peter froze before looking at (y/n), who nodded weakly. Natasha placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and looked down, feeling nothing but torment. Looking up at Peter, she cocked an eyebrow.

“Not friends, huh?”

Peter immediately released the girl, earning a chuckle from both women. The three of them head to (y/n)’s house at her request; (y/n) was tired of keeping secrets from the both of them now, Peter had literally been there twice when a henchman or whatever that was attacked her, and Natasha killed a henchman five years ago. It was time, she realized, to spill the beans.

Natasha on the other hand was dying to tell the girl about Tony, but something told her that this wasn’t the right time. She would tell Tony where the girl lived, so that Pepper could come and talk to her, but today wasn’t it. As soon as they reach the girl’s house, Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch, and Peter sat on the chair, making sure not to sit beside (y/n) in front of Natasha.

When (y/n) began explaining to them about who she was, Natasha wasn’t too shocked. Her teammate was a literal God, so this made sense; however, there was something else she noticed about (y/n) that she hadn’t noticed before. Narrowing her eyes, she saw ambition in the girl, and not the good kind. Something had changed massively, and the girl’s inherent curiosity was lost. Natasha wondered if the five years being on her own had done this to her, but she knew there was more to this eerie feeling than that.

A knock sounded on the door and in came Apollo, bandaged up. His gaze fell on Natasha and Peter, who sat wearing his spider suit but no mask. On seeing Apollo, he saw his English professor Alec, and froze up. He immediately stood up and put his hands in front of him in defense.

“T-This is just a costume, p-professor!”

“Professor?” Natasha asked, confused.

Apollo blinks and looks at his niece, who merely shrugged. A second later, Peter calmed.

“Wait, what are you doing here?”

Apollo slapped his forehead.

“He’s Apollo, Peter.”

Natasha chuckled at Peter’s cluelessness. However, when (y/n) continued her story, including the bit about Pepper, Peter paused.

“Pepper, as in—”

“Pepper Potts, yes. My father is Tony Stark.” (y/n) said, cleaning her dagger.

Natasha was most surprised about this. Narrowing her eyes cautiously, she turned to the girl, “You knew?”

“Recently.” (y/n) didn’t want to go into detail about that meeting.

“You came here looking for him. You should go meet him—”

“What use is that to anyone?” (y/n) asked coldly.

Peter suddenly didn’t recognize her. He watched her, confused out of his mind and also shocked because she was Mr. Stark’s illegitimate daughter. He turned to Apollo, who was sitting on another chair, looking not too pleased either.

“(y/n), you came here for him. You came to America to find your father, settle down and have a life. Getting away from a place like Olympus, it doesn’t make sense that you’re only trying to get back—”

“Those things are not for me, Natasha.” (y/n) said, looking at her with a cold expression.

Peter narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean? Mr. Stark will be thrilled to—”

“I’m a demigod, Peter. I’m going to become a God after I fulfil this prophecy, and when that happens, I won’t need Mr. Stark. I won’t need anything from the mortal world. I’m finishing things here because it’s a lot easier than going back to Olympus as a demigod.” (y/n) said, narrowing her eyes.

“Y-You’re leaving?” Peter asked, feeling the back of his eyelids burn.

“I have nothing here that can me stay.”

He pressed his lips together and frowned. He had never before found it hard to speak his mind when the time called for it, but right then, Peter was afraid. He was afraid to say a few words that perhaps might have made her change her mind. He was afraid to say, ‘What about me?’

❅

series taglist:

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson, @mscoloneldanvers, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark, @spider-mendes, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames, @alina-margaret, @yourwonderbelle, @viarogers, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave @oliviaisnotlistening @mizpotatobiscuits @editsbyjenny @abbieroseb @justtrynagetthroughlife @secretlittlewonders @missmulti @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com @eunoiametonia @adistiany @justletmesleeptillidie @ppunderoos @myheartonthemove @heir2chaos @honeybutterparker @truthdaze @mvmakki @-thatgirloverthere- @growingthornz @freddies-fried-chicken@jinxedleohttps://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wrongyuckie@gogoca@kewl-r @death-by-viola @losersunitetonight @hungoverhellhound@ro2424@https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/blackkookiebunn@absmiles123 @fxckingfat@ludwigvonbaethoven @xbabykookiix @madds-lolo @uwukinawa @sunflowernightss @diamonddia-mond @5knee

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