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#man of tai chi fic
johnwickb1tsch · 2 months
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Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 2
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A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.
one.
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Two. 二
It’s a week later, when you see him again. 
It's out on the winding streets near his house, on your day off. You’re taking a jog, when he roars by in his white Lamborghini, so close to your side of the road that you feel the pull of the wind off the aerodynamic car. 
He’s enjoying the feeling of power and control behind the wheel, before he sees you, in your workout clothes and all sweaty in the muggy summer heat. He feels a spear of possessiveness rip through him, and ultimately it’s the reason he slams on the breaks, whipping in reverse back to you, the supercar growling in agreement with his mood. “It’s too hot out here. You should use the gym in the house,” he tells you rather tersely. 
The only gym you know of in the house is his personal workout space–you hadn’t dreamed it could be used by the staff, hadn’t even thought to ask. When you just look back at him with owlish eyes, catching your breath with hands on your hips, he adds with annoyance, “And the roads are too narrow, people drive like maniacs. Someone might hit you.”
This is where you grin, flashing him an insouciant smile, but managing to keep your commentary on his own driving to yourself. “Thank you, Sir…” you pant. “But I like being outside.” There’s no better way to get to know a place, than looking at it while on foot. You love the lush streets of this neighborhood, the towering trees and greenery, the shining blue sea in the distance. It's way more interesting than running like a hamster on a treadmill.
Donaka, however, is not amused. He finds he hates the thought of other men seeing you running around in those tight clothes, looking so…edible...and sweaty. Your defiance only fuels his desire to exert his will over you. “It’s too dangerous,” he insists in a firm, authoritarian tone.
Maybe because it’s your day off, you feel braver than usual, but you just lift your eyebrows at him and smile. “It’s fine.” 
“I’ll give you a ride back. Get in.” 
The thought of putting your sweaty behind in your boss’s $500,000 car–even if it is ugly to boot–literally horrifies you. 
“I don't want to get your nice car dirty. I'll be home soon."
You finger wave, and jog off, hoping that will be the end of the exchange. 
With narrowed eyes he glares at your receding form in his rearview mirror. It’s the first time you’ve really defied him, and as annoyed as he is, he finds himself semi-hard from this interaction. He resists the urge to run you down and make you obey him. The thought actually makes him shudder to himself. 
He’d known you were going to be fun, but he hadn’t anticipated just how much.
He lives for the challenge of breaking the strong, and corrupting the innocent. It was looking like you were both those things, and by his reckoning–your days of independence were numbered. Soon…you would be his docile little pet, curled up at his feet.
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irenethewoman · 11 months
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Chapter 11 - Conspiracy
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He spoke so persuasively that Senator Burgess was left without words. And what about those relatives who surround us like hyenas? Most of them have approached me. They worked with William before, but their expectations were not met. Wealth and Congressman Burgess excels in Tai Chi; he is not willing to relinquish even half of the benefits. Their only option is me—a "soft persimmon." In these special times, we can calculate some matters behind closed doors.
As I gained the upper hand in this prolonged battle, Senators William and Burgess couldn't sit idly. I need to investigate my whereabouts in the last five years. They aim to prove my moral character is corrupt, tarnishing my reputation so I can start on an equal footing with them again. Joke! How can the losers uncover matters personally handled by Thomas Shelby?
I stared coldly at the old man across from me. "Dani, this agreement is advantageous. You can smoothly acquire all my property, including the prince's share left by your father. David Barton smiled, sliding the will toward me. "Agreement? It's a threat, isn't it?" I examined the files on the table. If I had never loved Tommy, accepting all of Old Barton’s fortune and later marrying Adam would be within my realm of acceptance. I might even choose to divorce in the future, provided I had already borne him a healthy son, relinquishing 60% of the Barton family inheritance.
"Do you want your brother to know your whereabouts in the past five years?" The old man still smiled, but his eyes were shrewdly calculating. "Compared to having nothing, isn't this the best outcome?"
The best outcome? I came all the way from Birmingham, leaving my lover, and after over a year here, are you telling me this is the best outcome? He never mentioned his plans and will when I first arrived in London. Instead, he waited for the right moment. First, he escorted me to the altar, showing me the hope within reach. Then, he presented his conditions. If I refuse, I hit rock bottom, losing everything I enjoyed over the past year.
October 15, 1923, 2:21 PM, Mrs. Shelby's 11th Conspiracy - Vanessa's Poplar.
The price is too high, and the conditions proposed aren't overly harsh, so most might succumb. But I'm different. I dared to run away from home at fifteen, had relations with a gang leader as an adult, shot in a brothel, managed illegal horse racing, and even threatened to bribe government officials.
"Give me some time to think about it." Consider how I can "repay" you nicely. Since that day, when I asked for consideration, David Barton has confined me to his room. Despite daily comforts, I lack freedom.
I carefully considered who else knows about my past. Tommy is reliable, so the only person left is someone beyond Tommy's reach—Campbell. As a direct subordinate of Churchill, it's not surprising he knows Old Patton. Attorneys Collins could be an ally if I can get him on my side. But first, I need to get out.
I noticed there are lit menorahs here. Barton House caught fire, burning my hand. These once fair and beautiful hands can no longer hold a pen, let alone sign a document.
"If you don't want people to wonder why Miss Turner disappeared again, you'd better let me go to the ball." Old Barton's expression soured. Even in pain, he couldn't keep me locked in the house.
So what if I set the fire? He has no evidence, and no one will believe him. It's a fantasy—knocking over a candlestick to escape. When no one's around, the pain in my hand intensifies.
"You're really cruel to yourself." Lawyer Collins gazes at my mummified hands with awe. "For freedom." I don't blame him for not disclosing the agreement, indirectly leading to my setting the fire.
Attorney Collins is new to society, unlike us, he doesn't grasp the cruelty of social competition. He feels guilty for the indirect consequences of his actions. I'll use that.
News of Miss Turner's burnt hands spreads to all London balls. People visit me daily. Old Barton can't keep me locked anymore. Even if I'm uninterested in the young men courting me, I entertain them for longer-term plans.
Through them, I learn a secret hidden by Old Barton. My aunt, Mrs. Button, resents me for being declared heir. I sent my uncle's illegitimate son to her, hoping to undermine my legitimacy. My recovered illegitimate cousin causes a stir.
In October 1921, I become Baroness Turner, giving a fifth of my wealth to my sister, who supports my brother William. I hire a private detective to uncover Old Barton's secrets. I prepare for a battle against him.
Pacing on my own city wall, I learn of Old Barton's illness in October 1923. Lying on a couch, Attorney Collins delivers the news. "Really?" I'm not surprised. I pick a grape, recalling the pain and burning. "He wants to see you, Madam Baroness." Old Barton is very ill.
"I really underestimated you. You deserve to be Charles' daughter." His sharp eyes and cunning words don't faze me. "For your mother's sake, let Adam go, and I'll give you half of my fortune."
"Do you think I'm short of money?" I look at him. "Do you think everything I did was because I lived in poverty for five years? On the contrary, I never experienced hardship in Birmingham. Everything I did was revenge."
Even though I lived happily, I can't forget the faces of those who hurt me, the beatings, Sister Mary's tragic death, and Nurse Claire's tears. I long for Tommy's comfort. Old Barton's offer doesn't sway me; I'm not short of money, but I'm short of family. I left my real relatives for money, and I miss Tommy dearly.
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arleniansdoodles · 6 months
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Do...do you have any Sean and Yang friendship heacanons that you'd be willing to share with us? Pretty please? 🥺
Ahh I'd be happy to! 😊 Sorry for the late reply anon; I had a bit of a tiring day and had to think about my headcanons loll And I think I mentioned a few in a previous ask, but very briefly, so now I can go into some more detail here! XDD
First up, I imagine Yang and Sean to be the same age, though people think Sean's older because he's taller loll And he technically would be the "big brother" given that he started his kung-fu training before Yang did. After Sifu finds Yang and takes him in, Yang meets Sean in the same year and they become fast friends because they're both runts who have trouble making friends (for Yang, he's a quiet child and still getting used to other people after being taken from the street; for Sean, he's awkward and brash and picks fights with bullies). Sean sees that Yang is the type of kid who'll get picked on, and stays by his side to protect him. Likewise, Yang sees that Sean is rather lonely and soft at heart, and is assured that Sean won't judge him for being a street orphan.
Even though they live and train in different schools, I headcanon that Sifu and Sean's father visit each other quite regularly because they're brothers (in the kung-fu sense, but they and Jinfeng are close in the familial sense too), which allows Yang and Sean to see a lot of each other while growing up. I figure they'd play around together, go exploring, and train - maybe Sean would show Yang how to use a bo staff, and Yang would try to teach Sean tai chi (which I imagine MC's mother would've taught Yang), but Sean wouldn't have the patience for it 😆
As they get older, I can see Yang and Sean having a sort of fun rivalry, kinda like Legolas and Gimli in LOTR, where they keep trying to win against each other in kung-fu matches! I see Yang surpassing Sean more often, and Sean's in awe of how far his friend has come from a street orphan to a near-master (he does mention in-game that he thought Yang was unchallenged in Sifu's school). Later on, Yang falls in love with his future wife and rambles to Sean about how happy he is; it's kinda hard for Sean because, on the one hand, he's happy for Yang, but on the other, his own relationships are pretty rough and he's also worried about their friendship drifting apart.
I think they'd see less of each other while Yang starts his own family - which is where MC comes in loll She fills that empty space in Sean's heart and makes it her own! 😊 But they do bond over having MC as a little sister; they go to the night markets (Yang and MC get bubble tea while Sean gets a beer), train together at times, and also have their separate adventures with her (Sean more often than Yang XD).
After Yang is banished from the Wuguan (because he tried to steal the Earth talisman), Sean supports him through losing his wife and daughter, and becomes Yang's right-hand man during the Dawn's mission to steal the talismans and defeat the Guardians. During the following eight years, I imagine they did end up drifting apart due to the physical distance and hardly leaving their own domains (apparently). They still care about each other, but the toll of their deeds and the talismans' corruptive influence has had bad effects on them both, Yang especially. I explore this quite a bit in my extended Sifu fic, so I won't go into further detail to avoid extra spoilers hahaa
And that's all I have for now, I think! Thank you so much for your ask, anon!! 💗💗 I love thinking about these two and their dynamic 😊
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dlthedescent · 2 years
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some Descent headcanons
So thanks to @thatguyender​ for starting this, I made two lists: a skill tree list for Mad Jack, my OC kickboxer, and a skill tree list for Freakazoid. I’ve had these thoughts way at the start - since when I first started the fic, I also thought of it game-design-wise - but never really sat down and wrote them out.
Though I expect myself to put a balance patch cuz I might have overdone it for Freakazoid... Eh. shrugs
First off, Mad Jack, my DL OC, Crane’s wingmate/crazy partner and Descent deuteragonist. She’s in a manner of speaking, a jack of all trades but also a skilled brawler. I do see her having some abilities/skills like old human Crane’s (power, survival, agility) because she is still a human fighter thrown in the same situation as he was (and not an overpowered infected). She’s no mercenary, though but she makes up by being crafty like a con artist.
Power
- Professional kickboxing brawler for 9 years (give or take). As true to her name, Mad Jack the Wild Dog, she can be a real berserker in combat. And when need to be defensive, tai chi (a lil hobby she took up in recent years) so that she can divert attacks thrown at her. 
- She's ambidextrous. Able to use double weapons faster and effective than Crane would one handed weapon.
- She has a couple of power moves like Crane's. A suplex move, a roundhouse kick, maybe a dual wielding move etc. Can even put a man in a head choke
- She knows how to use guns. Had used them in the past. But she actually won't use guns right now (there's reason to my madness here, story purpose). If in game, her skill in using firearms would be the last thing unlockable down the tree. And if unlocked, added with her ambidexterity, she can be very deadly. She can use bows easily btw.
Agility
- Almost on par to old Crane's parkour skills (had learned them from her cous), relearning the ropes and such.
 - More agile in combat and escaping/dodging than on parkour, where she puts her energy into.
 - She has high tolerance to pain. Like a berserker, she can endure being inflicted when in a pinch.
- Taunts, bring the fight to her and not to other people.
- Thanks to tai chi, she can regenerate stamina faster (have a mental moment to get like a second wind) 
- Will bite. Helps her get out of a sticky situation
Survivor
- Not a pro survival expert unlike someone who puts corpse grime onto himself. But willing to learn if it means surviving (doesn't mean she likes it)
- She has an eye for detail and is very resourceful, something from her past job. Which means she has better chance in looting than human Crane.
- Good with her words, twice good at bartering/haggling with shops (except with the Ravs. They know her tricks)
- She pickpockets. In battle, out of battle. She literally pulled a flash grenade off a Demolisher's body while being chased by it
- (tw blood, was a little unsure about putting this down) With her blood perk (poisonous to anyone infected), she can coat a bit on her weapons just by running her bloodied thumb/finger on it. Preferably sharp weapons work best.
- Open to new ideas on devices and tools if they can help with her survival. Example, the ascenders from the Junction. Plus only way to keep up with Freakazoid.
- Uses methods and tools that’s meant to distract enemies or lure them to a location. Examples: loud devices, fire alarms, her taunting.
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Next up, Freakazoid (aka Kyle Crane as Sentient Day Hunter/Volatile).
And oh boy this is a long list. I might have given Jack more work as his teammate than I anticipated... Oh well. I’ll nerf him later.
Also, I took some liberty to base his infected passive and active abilities on the Night Hunter. With inspiration on other games’ abilities cough.
Power
- He still has the standard moves, windmill, drop kick, etc. Plus some Hunter moves like Arial Ground Pound, leapfrog, etc. In a way, he fights like his old self with new tricks as an Sentient infected. A super soldier 
- Pick claws or fists anywhere, anytime. Claws swipe faster, dealing damage faster than punches but of course, punches hit harder.
- Has tendrils like a Hunter so can grapple an enemy (anything weaker than a volatile) to bring them right to him so that he can smash their head to the ground. Can also pull himself to an enemy (anything stronger than a Viral/Biter/Common) and literally kick them.
- He has a blade bone on his right and now a bone-spike gun on his left. That doesn't mean they're more effective than normal weapons or that he can't use weapons - they just serve as being convenient. He can use weapons but they break faster than normal human Crane would (which means future craftsmen gotta make him weapons suitable for his strength. Note to self, make that for side quests)
- With his infected side, can get a defense and power boost like Jack's second wind ability
- Charge into a large group like a bulldozer, stunning his enemies (edited)
Agility
- Also has the same agility moves as his old self, but with some new tricks as well. 
- Can wall run, wall latch, wall climb far better than Aiden. Talons sharp enough to latch on a wall longer than Aiden can stay in the air.
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- With tendril locomotion, can dart around fast but still hindered with turns/rotations like the Night Hunter. Escape is also more convenient by tendril. He can yeet himself out of combat.
- Faster health regen than his old self at night, slower in day. All thanks to his infected side.
- Instantly leaps onto an opponent like a Night Hunter but rather than sinking teeth down, he snaps the neck
Survivor
- He has some of his old skills, minus his haggle/talk for the time being. Jack helps him with that until he finds people not too freaked out by him. You know, because of his new body situation?
- Still can do throwing stars - because why wouldn't you want an infected throwing shuriken like Genji?
- Has the infrared eyesight of an infected where he can see human enemies behind walls. This can be switched on and off game-mechanic-wise and isn't effective in daylight.
- Not just with camouflage, can land critical stealth skills after being cloaked or in darkness.
 - UV resistance/block duration increase down his skill tree.
Infected - this is a new branch on Crane’s skill tree I made as a category, special thanks to Ender for the idea. Since there are some things like mutations, his telepathic way of communication, and skills/abilities that don’t fit with the other three categories entirely (even though the above, it’s a harmonic mixture between his old and new self)
- Pretty much higher defense (iron skin), higher attack (claws), faster regen, better scenes (can track infected/human easy like a bloodhound)
- Howls, can inflict fear into humans and staggers enemies. Good with clearing space against groups
 - With his mutations, he can be undying in combat (final passive skill in the tree). This gets reset back to normal until the next fight. He can also give this to his infected allies, namely Jack (concept in the works btw, may not be included), a sorta telepathic link to them to prevent them from dying.
- Tempted to give passive ability that he can feast on infected to regain back some health, considering the kind of person in the past to eat anything he grabs in the middle of an outbreak. Jack will most likely stop him on that. Or not. She can't completely control this beast.
-- Below are skills not lockable on the tree but gained after defeating a rare type of enemy; Sentient Volatiles.
- Invisibility - his first infected skill he starts with. Can go invisible as long as he has stamina to burn. Helps with his crit stealth kills. Uninfected human enemies can still see him however.
- Rage - Lets out the beast from within, as long as he has stamina to burn.
- Doppelganger - second infected skill, gained after defeating another sentient Volatile like him. Creates a shadow to distract enemies off him (similar to Mother's fight with her clones)
- Other newer skills he'll obtain after defeating three other Sentient Volatiles, in the works currently. 
and a sidenote from story; he has this territory bubble where his presence makes infected not want to come to him. So his presence helps safezones be warded off from troubling infected. Didn't know if should have been under infected branch
And that’s it.
God this post is so long...
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doggernaut · 2 years
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🥺🤡🎢
From these fanfic writer asks!
🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?
The type of hurt/comfort where one character really sees the other and offers affirmation/support/reminds them that they're a team.
Also, specifically in the case of second chance AUs, that oh moment of realizing they're in love with their best friend.
🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?
I am easily amused by myself, so there's usually at least one thing in every one of my fics that makes me laugh. I think I've answered variations of this question before so I'll go with a passage I know I haven't answered with. This is from Pucks and Recreation:
“You will not believe what I had to deal at work today,” he says as he collapses into a corner of the loveseat, hand thrown dramatically over his heart. A few drops of beer splash onto his shirt and Larissa gently pries it from his hand and sets it on the table in front of them.
“Someone’s living in the Founders Park playhouse?” Larissa guesses. “A pack of wild raccoons took over the dodgeball field?”
Eric shakes his head. “Worse,” he says grimly.
“Oh shit. Did the flasher showed up to sunrise Tai Chi again?”
All of those things have happened so Eric can forgive Larissa for assuming today’s absolute travesty was a typical Parks Department headache. 
“The auditors came,” he says, pronouncing “auditor” like it’s a dirty word.
🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
Oh man, I don't know! I don't think I've written anything particularly wild or out there. Maybe my Once in a Lifetime series, which is actually two fics. They both incorporate time travel and I think the opening chapters of both are pretty wild, at least from the POV character's perspective. (And hopefully amusing for the reader.)
Thank you for the asks!
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badassbutterfly1987 · 6 months
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Man of Tai Chi (2013) review
Summary: Keanu Reeves’ directorial debut tells the tale of a highly skilled martial artist, who rebels against his teachings and fights in an underworld club.
Story seems initially straightforward but there's an interesting reveal linked to Donaka's motivation. Also kudos to Tiger Chen. He's mostly known for doing choreography and stunts (especially for The Matrix), so it's neat for a film to concentrate so much on both his acting and fighting.
Fighting is pretty good, shares more in common with The Matrix fancy style than the semi-grounded brutality of John Wick (the latter is my personal preference but I can appreciate the former), there are definite moments of ignoring gravity.
Keanu Reeves should play a villain more often, the flat monotone combined with the sudden acts of brutality help sell Donaka as a menacing figure.
also this is a movie where the villain is stalking and trying to corrupt the hero, why are there not fics shipping them on ao3? it's almost entirely villain/OCs and I'm disappointed.
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crackinglamb · 2 years
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WIP Whenever
Hopping on @schoute's open invite. To which I extend to everyone else. Got something to share? Go for it.
I set things in motion for an arc of WG way back during WEWH (so like...almost half the fic ago). They are finally coming to fruition.
Someone makes a thirst trap big entrance.
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They came to the doorway of the inner sanctum, where inside a man stripped down to his waist was swinging a massive warhammer through stylized moves. He was tall and lean like Solas, his lankiness belied by the wiry strength on display. His hair was curly and black and tied back in a simple club at his nape. He moved with grace and precision, each step, each breath, calculated to the minutest slide of muscle and sinew. Like a dance. Or tai chi. Or...
The man pivoted on his foot with the momentum of the weapon, facing them and coming to a stop. His expression remained placid and he blinked sweat away from his eyes. He was just barely winded. He said nothing as he caught his breath, then he set aside the hammer and inclined his head in greeting.
“Is it time?” he asked.
“Yes, Felassan,” Solas replied. “Are you well?”
“Yes. No more than six hours of training a day, as you requested.” His gaze moved from Solas to Imogen and she caught herself halfway through a nervous smile. His expression didn't change. It was surreal to be standing near him, knowing that he was not at all the man she knew from a book. It was different than knowing all the others for some reason. Possibly because they had all been much larger parts of the narrative, and he had had only a tiny role. But it was the lynchpin to everything. There was keen intelligence in his eyes, and he was assessing her with it, but all the while his lips remained firmly shut and did not curl into an echoing smirk as they should have if not for his fate. “You would be the Inquisitor?”
“Yes. My name is Imogen.”
“We met before.”
“We did. You...you brought me a message from Briala, to meet her in the Poison Garden.”
He nodded and made no further comment, returning his attention to Solas. “It will not take me long to pack. Excuse me.”
He turned his back on them and strode unerringly across the sanctum to the corner where Imogen could now see a sort of living space had been set up. She heard Solas release a long, slow breath and slipped her hand into his, twining their fingers together.
“How long has he been here, training?”
“Since my arrival in Val Royeaux and arrangement with Briala." Solas paused. "He had not touched a weapon since...”
“Before your meeting. So, like in two years? Three?”
“Yes.”
“You all right?”
Solas raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckles, then gave her a warm smile. “I'm fine, arasha. We have made our peace.”
Privately, she didn't think that was likely to last. Tranquil Felassan had made peace, for sure. He had no reason not to. He was too logical and rational. Once he was cured, however, his emotions would probably backlash.
“I have to say, I didn't expect him to be wielding a giant hammer. Not very arrow-like.”
“It is my nature to be unexpected,” Felassan said suddenly. She hadn't even heard him return to their sides. He was still half bare, but a pack rested on his shoulder, while the other hand held the weapon in question.
She grinned, unable to resist reacting to that deadpan delivery. “Fair enough. You might want to put on a shirt, though. It's winter in Val Royeaux.”
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selphiealmasy8 · 4 years
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Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Man of Tai Chi (2013), Extreme Pursuit (2013) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Donaka Mark/Me, Officer Suen Jing-Si & Me Characters: Donaka Mark - Character, Me, Officer Suen Jing-Si, Tiger Chen Linhu Additional Tags: Dark Love Story, Love, Love Stories, Falling In Love, Self-Insert, Self-Indulgent, Dark erotica, Hero/Villain, Abduction, Captivity, Seduction, Difficult Decisions, Freedom, Kidnapping, Spies & Secret Agents, Starvation, Mirrors, Love/Hate, Attraction, Innocence, Loss of Innocence, Corruption, Police, Loneliness, Stockholm Syndrome, Survival, Cat and Mouse, Dark, Redemption, Weakness, Virginity Kink, Virginity, Loss of Virginity, Masks, Getting to Know Each Other, Understanding, Captive, Inspired by Eros and Psyche (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, Identity, False Identity, Boss/Employee Relationship, Violence, Dubious Science, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mysticism, Resurrection, Sexual Tension, Supernatural Elements Series: Part 45 of Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic! or A Love Letter to Keanu Reeves Summary:
Trying to help the Hong Kong Police Department catch the resurrected Donaka Mark, I become employed at Security System Alliance only to find myself indeed gaining the interest of my target. For Donaka is a man attracted to innocence, and the urge to corrupt it, and he can easily sense this in me.
However, when Donaka reveals that he was wise to my deception all along, the man imprisons me in a room he has prepared long ago in advance for an experiment he has always desired to test. For if an innocent man can be tempted to sell his soul for survival, will a virgin, likewise, be willing to offer her body for the chance to live and be set free again after she has given in?
Donaka believes he no longer needs to only theorize having found the perfect test subject: Me. Now his seduction attempts and cruelty truly come to the forefront in our game of cat and mouse.
But as the weeks progress and I continue to refuse him to his mounting frustration, I begin to wonder how much longer I can hold on to my ideals and innocence. For to my horror, my body longs to surrender to my captor and I no longer know if I can resist losing my soul to Donaka Mark when I have already lost my heart.
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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months
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Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader
please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones
Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way.  Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵
Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem. 
I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN. 
THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot!  It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣
So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!
And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘
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One. 一
The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.
It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.
You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.
Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet. His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music. “You’re new.”
Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"
Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your  curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.
“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.
"Yes, Mr. Mark."
Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well. Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance. “And you can handle them?”
"Yes, Sir."
Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again. “Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”
You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.
Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey. “I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”
You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.
Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.
He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet. 
He would see how long it takes to change that. He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.
He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…
Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.
He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.
“You like that one?”
“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items. 
He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”
“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least. 
“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.” 
“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.  
He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger. The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark. “Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.
"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."
Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats. His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.
Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”
Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”
“I follow…art news,” you confess.
He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”
You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…
“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”
He snorts in answer, shaking his head. 
“Does it make you happy?”
He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.
Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.
“I see.”
“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.
You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet. 
“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.
“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.
He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.
“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.
His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that. 
And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it. 
The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid. 
He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.
He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.
He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch. He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.
He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.
“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid. 
“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?” 
“Yes, Sir.” 
Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.
He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything. 
Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you. 
“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out. 
Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.
Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub.  Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun. 
He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.
“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”
You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?" 
He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before. 
Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."
Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again. He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard. "That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?” 
“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.
“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.” 
“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?” 
You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well. 
“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you. 
“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work. 
“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why. 
“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him. 
“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.” 
“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately. 
It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh. 
“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you. 
Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea. 
“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.” 
He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable. 
“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”
Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…
He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”
“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun. 
He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work. 
Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.” 
With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house. 
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The Smithsonian article about this vase...
Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...
Part 2 -->
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phoebehalliwell · 3 years
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in your alternate next gen headcanons/fics, you've got Penn and the other P's (Piper's daughters), Dency (Phoebe's daughter), and Sheridan and Warren (Prue's son's). have you ever written anything about Paige's kids in any of the alternate universes?
okay so if i'm cataloguing every next gen warren witch that lives in my brain by charmed one, there's:
prue: warren & sheridan, patricia, penelope, & phillipa
piper: wyatt, chris & melinda, penn & (penn's siblings??), (jack the piper/kyle kid???)
phoebe: pj, parker & peyton, dency, (cj??)
paige: tamora, kat & henry jr, (bennie??)
in which um bennie has actually made a couple guest appearances on this blog and is the paige/richard kid and is like. a fat vibe def mentally ill but like. au where richard still binds or strips his powers whatever also he really seems like a tai chi guy and paige and richard are endgame i guess lmaoo so bennie their kid is raise not my you know bonkers batshit insane powers because i stand by my theory that richard was dose with blood of a greater being as a child and that's why magic makes his react the way he does so that does pass on just a little bit to his child. i also once very briefly constructed an au w a paige kyle kid but in a kyle still died world so paige still ends up w henry and has a daughter kyle at some point as a whitelighter finds out he has a daughter bc the elders were really keepin that Top Secret but kyle's quasi-adjacent in his kid's life but idk like. what those kids would be up to. isabel and beatrice maybe? i think they were bel and bea? lemme see if i can find the pöst. nope. well ur just gonna hafta trust me on that ig. yeah i can't say i've thot much about them. i think if i were really to spin a paige progeny solo story i mean well a) henry jr spin off bc like. i think that could be fun. but i think i would want to create a circumstance really separate from the next gen something that warrants a whole ass like Own Story (e.g. warren and sheridan being raises by jack, dency being the source's heir + having the twice blessed, which changes like magical society as a whole) because if it's still like you know there's wcm at the top of the lil next gen pyramid i feel like the worlds all stay too similar and it gets my brain fuzzy. i could do a paige-never-finds-the-power-of-three-au, where she still has her witch powers and figures shit out on her own, but i really don't know what the 411 with her kids would be. i could also have the other parent be some other type of magical being, cupid, warlock, darklighter, etc, bc that fusion would be interesting. i think out of all of paige's love interests, by far my favorite option for a father just from like an interesting character perspective is richard, because like. he has a whole magical bloodline and also a family that is implied practices black magic on occasion. that kid would pack a punch. there's kyle (mortal) and kyle (whitelighter), but like. i feel like if i were to do that again i'd have to spin up some au otherwise it's just the same gen 2 universe but instead of tam and kat it's paigekyle kids. you know what actually You Know What Actually Could Be Fun in a paige-never-finds-the-power-of-three-au-but-is-still-a-witch um fuckin hello?? paige glen. paige glen world travelers witch free spirit those kids would be. those kids would be so weird man just life experience globetrotters especially seeing as they have some magical legacy (the charmed destiny) that the belland family has just someone manage to outrun by like. quite literally like outrunning it. never being in the same place long enough for anything to really happen. i'm feeling two kids here. hmm but with two kids idk if they'd stick together a whole bunch i think they'd be a lot more free not like attached at the hip so either i run two separate plots or i only focus on one. but that could be. interesting to say the least.. esp if something happened where um. where like the charmed ones were wiped out. idk how. maybe prue did bite it in all hell breaks loose. maybe Phoebe dies. in ahbl. they're down to the power of two with piper and prue. piper taps out leo clips his wings and piper binds her powers and they leave the manor. piper then realizes she's pregnant witchlighter baby??? or she just has a normal witch baby. maybe a couple. actually just two i think i need to cap it at two bc no power of three access in this au. omg leo dies in s8 like how he was fated to die..................... prue holds down the homefront at the manor. finds love eventually has kids eventually i could go really out in left field and say fuck it prue x angel of death kids. but that requires
attention on its own part. but i could. i might. hmmm. because piper post leo death hell maybe leo just gets killed by a darklighter in spite of being mortal just because a darklighter recognizes him. piper like. changes her identity and raises her kid separate from the manor and magic. kids. maybe. prue is like. ballz to the wall fuckin intense. i could just make up a guy i could do whitelighter andy i could do. justin?? was his name? there's bane and jack but bane's in jail and jack would die in about five minutes so. i think i'd make up a guy. but i think prue has kids again maybe just two. i mean i could all give them one. but. . do i really want only children here lbr also prue and piper were both raised w siblings i could reasonably seeing prue having only one kid if it was like.. too dangerous to have another kid or something but i think she really wanted to be Mom. so anyways prue's witch kids are trained rigorously from warren lore, piper's kids are raised mortal, and paige's kids are raised with training from paige, who's self taught. anyway.s prue gets murdered and the manor is taken over by dark magic. when prue's kids are. mmm early twenties great age to take on an adventure that you're not like. remotely equipped to handle yet. they know they need to take back the seat of power lest something terrible happens. like it has to be a halliwell right the halliwells have to take back their house. so the halliwells get the bennets (piper's kids) (surprise! you're a witch!) and then somehow Also discover the bellands (surprise! you have a long extensive family tree that fights evil magic!) and then idk we really get the ball rolling we get some plot goin. wallah.
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ladyreapermc · 4 years
Text
Fic: What kind of Man (Keanu x Reader x Tom)
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Summary: Tom was kind and funny and sweet. He was perfect for you. But he wasn’t what you wanted.
Paring: Keanu x F!Reader; One sided Tom Hiddleston x F!Reader
Author’s notes: This oneshot was written based on these two asks: ould you please write a smut fic where Keanu is a friend of the reader (he  actually loves her) and he visits her at home but there’s a British man in his mid-30s that is friend of the girl but he also seems interested in her and Keanu notices it and once the British man leaves Keanu seduces reader and both end up having sex? |  An A/U  smut fanfic of Keanu in love with the reader and Tom Hiddleston loving her too (both are friends of hers) but Keanu gets jealous in Tom’s presence and when he’s away, K seduces reader and has the most incredible sex with her to prove he’s better than Tom. I’m never very good at writing love triangles, but I hope you like it, nonnies.
Wordcount: 3395
Warnings: mention or alcohol; smut
You brushed off inexistent lint from your dress as you surveyed the last details of the small gathering you’d be having for your friends. You didn’t know why you were so nervous; it was just a late celebration for your birthday since you hadn’t been able to enjoy the actual date due to working.
You didn’t really mind because you loved your work. Getting to be a coloring technician and offering your contribution to so many amazing movies and shows wasn’t something you ever expected to do in your life, but you definitely happy that you trailed that path. You got to meet so many amazing people but without the hassle of being famous. It was quite perfect really.
Surveying the catering table, you fixed one of the napkins that were slightly out of place and chuckled at yourself. Why were you so nervous? It was just some of your closest friends. They had been here when you hadn’t cleaned in weeks. They wouldn’t mind if something wasn’t perfect. They would even notice really. Still, you could never manage to settle, not until everything was perfect. One of the last remains of your mother’s strict education, you were sure. Some things were harder to shake it off.
When you were satisfied that everything was exactly how you envisioned, you went into your room to finish getting ready, knowing your guests would be arriving soon. You chose a comfortable, wrap dress. Thin and loose to help you through the summer heatwave, but still beautiful and elegant for the events of the night. You slipped your feet in the kitty heels you’d be wearing just as the doorbell rang signaling the arrival of your first guest.
Soon enough your living room was filled with people, talking and chuckling together, each with a glass of sparkling wine in their hands. Soft mood music played in the background while you traveled through groups, talking with everyone, making sure their glasses were filled and aperitives were available before you sneaked out to the kitchen. You loved to have people over, but this hostess thing could be very exhausting.
Leaning against the counter, you sipped your wine, the first glass you managed for the night and popped an hors d’oeuvre in your mouth, suddenly aware of how hungry you were.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Tom said made you look over with a wide smile as you moved closer, letting him draw you into a hug.
“Tom! I didn’t think you’d be able to make it!”
“And miss a chance to see you? Never.” He grinned at you, those baby blue eyes sparkling with amusement as he held you close, hands in your waist. “You look gorgeous as always.”
His words made you giggle like a schoolgirl and you hated. Tom was the only one who could do that. It had to do with the smooth, almost velvety quality of his baritone that never failed to make your knees weak.
The two of you met a few years ago when you worked with Guillermo del Toro in Crimson Peak. You usually didn’t meet actors and actresses in a production, but Guillermo asked you to be close by during shooting to consult with the DP. He was searching for a very specific look for his movie and he wanted your eye for color. Since you were around set a lot, you ended up meeting all the cast and crew. You and Tom quickly struck a friendship that remained long after the movie was done.  
“Now, tell me, darling, what have you been up to?” he leaned against the counter, wine glass in hands as he peered at your through his long dark blonde lashes. His hair slicked back, curls perfectly controlled for once and you mimicked his stand, your body facing his as you described the latest movie that you just finished coloring.
You got entailed in conversation with Tom, unabashedly neglecting all of your other guests in favor of him, unable to ignore the subtle attraction you felt. As far as you could tell, however, it wasn’t like any of them seemed to mind. They had each other to keep themselves occupied and plenty of food and drinks.
It wasn’t until the party was winding down, when most guests had left, leaving only yourself, Tom and a handful of other people that you heard a familiar deep voice saying your name that let your gaze wander away from Tom.
You weren’t expecting to see Keanu here. Sure, you invited him, but you knew he was filming a new project and would probably be exhausted. It was most of a hopeful thing and as the night went on without a sign of him, you just assumed he wouldn’t make it. But here he was and as your eyes met, you felt that familiar flutter in your belly.
How he looked so dashing in a simple t-shirt topped with a well-fitted blazer and jeans you didn’t know, but as he approached you and Tom, steps sure, hands in his pocket, you have to fight the urge to picture him without anything.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” you commented, hugging him tightly. Enjoying the wood scent of his cologne and the heat of his body.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, his mouth right next to your ear and you shuddered slightly. And if the hug lingered a little longer than necessary, no one would mention it. “I’m just sorry I’m so late.”
“It’s fine,” you said, finally letting go of him. Keanu already knew most of your friends. You had worked together during post-production for Man of Tai Chi and grew quite close, but you were almost sure he didn’t know Tom. Not in person at least.
“Hello,” Keanu greeted as his gaze met Tom’s.
“It’s an honor.” Tom shook his hand, but his smile seemed strangely cool.
“Likewise,” the other man said with that a serene look as he took a seat next to you and you were suddenly sandwiched between two very handsome men. Not a bad birthday present.
“Wine, Ke?”
“No, thank you, I’m driving tonight.”
Keanu took a glass of water, his gaze lingering on you a moment and you shifted slightly under his gaze until you felt Tom’s arm coming around your shoulders, warm and comforting and you smiled in thanks at his accommodation before you let your attention drift back to the conversation.
However, it was quite hard to focus on what was being said when on one hand, you could feel the heat of Tom’s body against you. His long, elegant fingers drawing patterns on your shoulder. On the other, Keanu’s mere presence seemed to radiate through you. His scent still on your nose, your body responding every time he spoke.
It felt like ages until everyone else left, leaving only you, Keanu and Tom behind. You didn’t know if that was for the worst or better, because now the attention of both of these gorgeous men was solemnly on you and you felt like squirming, your brain struggling to process why you felt like it everything was so weird.
The three of you cleaned up most of the mess and as you stood in the kitchen with them, you noticed they were just looking at each other and the air felt tense and thick around you. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was it, but you shifted awkwardly on your feet.
“I should get going,” Tom said, surprising you. He was always the last one to leave. More often than not he would even stay in your guest bedroom.
“Sure?” you asked, and Tom smiled at you, though a little sadly as he nodded.
“Yes.” His gaze shifted to Keanu. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll walk you,” you said once the tension set again. The two of you made your way to the front door in silence. “I had the guest room ready for you.”
“Thank you, darling,” he said, kissing your cheek. “But I have a feeling you’ll be needing your privacy.”
Tom pulled back from you, his gaze moving past your shoulder and when you looked behind yourself, Keanu was watching the two of you.
“It’s not…” you started, embarrassed. “We’re just friends.”
“He doesn’t want to be just friends,” Tom said, his gaze returning to you. “Neither do you.”
“Tom…” his name came out of your lips in a low, soft tone. You didn’t know why you felt this guilty. It wasn’t like you and Tom had anything going on. Maybe there could have been once, but not anymore. You were just great friends.
“Good night, darling.” There it was again, the little sad smile and with one final kiss to your cheek, he walked away.  
You remained there for a moment longer, your hand pressed against the smooth wood of your front door as Tom’s words kept running through your head. Was he right? Turning slowly, you found Keanu standing right behind you and the sight made you jump a small laugh bubbling from your chest.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s ok.” You smiled at him, hand in your chest, your heart thundering. “Just make some noise, will you? Maybe I should tie a bell on your wrist or something.”
“Maybe,” he chuckled, covering his mouth slightly and your heart swoon. How was he this adorable?
“Ke…” you hesitated, wringing your hands together nervously as you looked at him. “I, uh…. Are you going?”
“If you want me to,” he replied softly, meeting your eyes and you smiled.
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
He stared at you for a long time and you fought the urge to squirm. There was something in his eyes like he was looking deep inside you, unraveling your deepest secrets and you felt exhilarated and terrified. What could he see there? Could he see how much you wanted him? Did you want him to see it?
“He loves you, you know?” Keanu said finally breaking the quiet and started a little. “Tom.”
Your first impulse was to say no. To laugh it off because that was what you always did. You loved Tom and everyone knew that. You just didn’t love him like that. And he couldn’t love you like that. But right now, under Keanu’s heavy gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny it.
“I know,” you sighed. “But I don’t.”
“Why not?”
You’ve asked yourself that same question more times you could count. Tom was funny and charming, the perfect gentleman. He adored you and was closer in age to you, but something was missing there. That spark. As cheesy as it sounded.
Your heart didn’t leap in your chest when you saw Tom. Not like it did as soon as your eyes laid on Keanu. You were excited to see him of course, he was a dear friend, but you counted the seconds to see Keanu, eager to be close to him and talk to him. To feel his arms around you, cradling you close, surrounding you with his scent and warmth…
“He’s not you,” you confessed quietly, and Keanu smiled. It was just a quick tilt of lips, before his mouth descended over yours, soft and gentle, but full of promises.
You anchored yourself with your hands on his shoulders as you felt your legs suddenly weak, boneless. Your entire world reduced to the feel of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the feel of his beard against your skin. Everything you craved for so long.
You backed away, tugging Keanu with you, until your back was at the door, supporting you as much as his hands on your hips. His thumb rubbed circles against the soft fabric over your hipbone and desperation burned in your guts. You wanted to feel his hands on your bare skin.
Pulling away from his lips so you could meet Keanu’s eyes, you noticed the rings of brown usually so warm were darkened by his need for you. Your shaky fingers moved to the knot of your dress, undoing it quickly and letting the dress fall open, framing your body and the purple lingerie you had on.
His gaze devoured you as he very gently pushed the edges of the dress aside until it slipped from your shoulders and pooled on the floor behind you. You wished he would do anything besides just looking. His intense eyes made you feel beautiful, but it also allowed insecurity to grow in your chest. What if he didn’t like what he saw?
Keanu’s hands finally returned to you, rough callouses from a lifetime of motorcycles, basses, and guns catching on the silkiness of your skin, making goosebumps rise on your arms as he caressed them gently, moving down to your hips and thighs. His lips met your neck for wet kisses and teasing nips that had your arching towards him, soft little gasps filtering through your mouth.
You brought your own hands under his shirt, exploring the broad, strong back, nails scratching slightly, making him hiss. His grip tightened a little in response, his mouth sucking harder on your collarbone, sparking pleasure and making wetness gather between your legs.
“Ke…” your voice was needy as he sucked your nipple through the lace of your bra. You arched towards his mouth, fingers threading through his hair. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” you suggested. “Or at least the couch.”
“Yeah.” His voice was almost rumble and with a final kiss to your breast, Keanu straightened up, looking at you. “Lead the way.”
You made a path to your bedroom, walking a couple of steps in front of him, making sure to put an extra sway in your step so Keanu could enjoy the view of your ass.
The second the two of you crossed the threshold, you felt him arms surrounding you, his bare chest warm against your back and you had no idea when he took his shirt off, but you were very glad he did.
His lips connected to your neck again, his hands cupping and massaging your breasts and you pushed back against his erection, still confined in his jeans, pressing against your lower back. Hot arousal spread through your body and you turned around in his arms, finding his mouth again while your hands worked on the button of his pants.
“You’re sure?” Keanu whispered as you kissed down his neck. “We can slow down. We can…”
“No,” you said firmly, lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as you pulled his zipper down and pulled his cock free. “I want you right now.”
Licking your lips, you moved closer, letting your tongue taste him and feel the smooth and hot skin. Keanu moaned softly above you, his hand coming to your hair, pushing it away from your face and when you glanced up, his eyes were on you.
You made sure to put on a show for him, taking him deeper into your mouth, lips wrapping tightly around his thick length, tongue flat against the underside vein as you bobbed your head, pushing as much of him you could take, before pulling away with a small pop and starting all over again. Tongue swirling the tip of his cock, gathering the precum hungrily so you could taste the salty bitterness of him.
“Fuck! Stop,” Keanu asked, tugging on your hair softly until you pulled away and smirked at him, at his hooded eyes and heaving chest. “Come here.”
He pulled you up, catching your lips again, this time his kiss was rougher, almost bruising and you loved it. Just like you loved the way his hands touched all over, teasing and toying with you, keeping you on edge.
Keanu guided you to lay on your back, his lips trailing down your body, tongue hot and teeth sharp as he explored and discovered all the spots that made you writhe and moan for him until you were lost in ecstasy and begging him to touch you where you needed him the most.
When he finally reached his destination, you nearly shouted at the way he sucked you through the lace of your panties, the fabric offering a very welcome texture to his wicked tongue that licked and pressed against your clit.
Only when your panties were completely soaked Keanu pulled them off, exposing you to the cool air of the room and you shivered, until his mouth connected to your clit again, two of his fingers pressing inside you, crocking up as he rubbed your g-spot and making you moan at the shot of pleasure.
“You’re so responsive,” he marveled. “I love it.”
“Not more than I do.” Your chuckle turned into a moan as he hummed against you, the vibrations making you arch, hands coming to his hair to pull him closer. “Right there. Don’t stop. I’m gonna…”
You whined when he did stop and looked at you with a lazy smirk.
“I wanna feel you coming around my cock,” Keanu declared, standing up and yanking his pants off, along with his boxers. He caught your legs and pulled you towards him until half of your ass was out of bed, your feet behind his back, heels on his ass.
He rubbed the tip of his cock over your folds teasingly before he pushed inside you so slowly that you felt the urge to try and move to speed things along, but you had no leverage to do so. You were at Keanu’s mercy and it was exciting and strange. You rarely gave up control during sex.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted breathlessly, his hair curtaining his eyes for a moment. “It feels perfect.”
“Yeah.” You focused on the sweet burn of him stretching you, the texture of his cock rubbing your walls, making that knot of pleasure increase inside you.
Keanu only stopped when he was fully sheathed in you, resting his forehead against your chest as both of you adjusted to how your union felt.
“Ke, I need you to move,” you asked, desperate to feel more of him. “Fuck me.”
He grinned at you, large hands tightening around your thighs, keeping them spread for him as he started to move, slowly at first, grinding into you. But eventually picking up speed, his thrusts getting harder, making you grab at the edge of the mattress so as not to slide upwards on the bed, your breasts bouncing with the force of his movements.
Desperate cries fell from your lips as pleasure overtook you and all you could focus on was the sensations in your body. The deep heat spreading from your center to the rest of your body, making all of your nerve-ends tingle. The smell of your sweat mingled with Keanu’s. The taste of yourself on his lips as he bent over to kiss you, tongue plundering into your mouth as hard as his cock was doing to your cunt.
Soon, you were reaching between your bodies, rubbing your clit, chasing the peek of your pleasure, feeling Keanu losing his own rhythm as his thrusts became sloppy, his groans louder until he stilled above you, fingers digging almost painfully on your thighs as he came inside you.
He took only a couple of seconds to breathe before he was pushing your hand away, taking charge of working your clit, his other hand coming to play with your nipple, pinching lightly and making you buckle and mewl.
“Come on, baby, I wanna see you coming all over my cock,” he coaxed, this thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure, rubbing hard and fast and your orgasm took you by surprise, making you cry out and claw at his strong biceps, body shaking as you squeezed around him. “That’s it. Fuck! You feel so good.”
Keanu kissed your belly and chest, whispering sweet nothings against your skin until you calmed down, your body finally sated, mind dazed with pleasure.
“That was amazing,” you grinned sleepily at him and Keanu smiled back, kissing you softly.
“It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he said, pushing your hair away from your face. “Can I stay?”
“I wasn’t planning on letting you leave,” you replied, smiling at him. Knowing you made the right choice tonight.
 xxx
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laurasauras-reads · 3 years
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Homestuck reread post 2
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who gave you the right, sir, to look so fucking adorable??
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okay, i've been immediately proven wrong on my interpretation for "bully", unless it's john doing the best with what he has, or if john himself is misinterpreting hussie's intentions. with something like homestuck, all of this is possible! but i think i was probably just wrong hahaha
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"plz say yes" says the dude who definitely isn't going to play the game. he messaged john this immediately, like before he'd even looked out the window. (love.)
okay here's something i want to point out with regards to homestuck's chronology. dave calls rose "TT" here, because the reader hasn't been introduced to her yet and therefore doesn't know her name. the second that each kid has been given a name, their friends start using it. the reader's timeline matters more than any other one in homestuck. i started creating a homestuck timeline map, but oh my GOD it was impossible. maybe i'll finish it some time.
the point is, the trolls might have made this universe, but they don't matter until they're revealed to the reader. likewise, beforus really doesn't matter until it's revealed.
when the first page prompts us to name john because it's his 13th birthday, obviously he had a name before then. and that's not just me applying real world logic, we read dave's birthday letter that is addressed to "john", a letter that was written before john turned 13. because john was given his name by the readers and by the time we read that, we well and truly know his name is john.
okay okay so other things to comment on here.
i love dave's assumption that rose is flirting with him. she probably is, though the degree to which that's ironic is anyone's interpretation. what am i saying, she definitely is, we see them talking later. (take this as a sign that i will say shit like this regardless of ectobiological relations, but also this is just plain fact. no one, not dave and rose, not the readers, maybe not even hussie, knew that they were going to be related in the future.)
i also love john's deadpan statement of dave's attractiveness and dave's response. "thank you", it's just brilliant. beyond criticism!
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okay idk what the image quality is gonna be like on this, but i want to appreciate the different kind abstrata that are available for the strife specibus. some highlights:
pizzactrkind
lampkind
glovekind
curlironkind
fncysntakind
fireextkind
i'm also glad to see "fankind" on there, because that's what i chose for my specibus. i do tai chi, the fan form is rad!
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i love this writer, obviously. i like the fan theory that bro strider is the one who writes these, especially because if he's as like dirk as i think he is, this is entirely fabricated. this is a level of ironic bropinions that dirk could only aspire to
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i can't believe i've waited this long to express my deep abiding love of dad egbert. why does he swear on egyptian tombs? why has he hung this picture up? i need to make him 500% more funny in all my fics going forward, because this is a man i want to love forever
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okay maybe not, i forgot about the obscene number of jester/harlequin things in this house. i don't know how i forgot, but i did. i'm going to have to make dadbert 800% weirder in future fics, too
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Sometimes at night you pray for burglars.
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bumblebeug · 5 years
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Paris, City of Sweets
Thought I forgot about this fic, didn’t you? Well, I haven’t forgotten! I hope you enjoy!
Paris, City of Sweets
“Ah! Good to see you’re already up, Felix,” Marianne said cheerfully, grabbing her own teacup from the drying rack, “Is there any left for me?”
Fu smiled and lifted the teapot. “Plenty.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Marianne replied as she sat down.
Felix glanced away blushing when his grandmother and Fu leaned in for a morning kiss.
It was so odd, Felix thought, to see his grandmother so happy. Up until this visit – he hadn’t thought that it was even possible.
Growing up, his grandmother always had an air of someone waiting for something and with each minute that something she was waiting for didn’t show up, the more forlorn she got. He had always assumed that it was because she missed Grandpa Alexander, who had died when he was six. It made sense, because his father was generally a happy man, but would sometimes get that way too over small things that would trigger a memory. Where he would just go quiet for a moment; giving a distracted half-smile to no one as if he was reliving a happy memory and saying goodbye to his father all over again at the same time.
Felix wondered how his dad would react to seeing his mother so happy with another man. He hadn’t yet told his parents the specifics on why Marianne was so happy in Paris – just that she was building a new life.
“Felix dear?”
Startled, Felix’s head snapped up at the question.
“Yes?” He replied and took a sip of tea. He grimaced, he’d been so lost in thought that his tea had gone cold.
“I was just saying how nice it would be to get some canelés as tomorrow’s refreshment for our tai-chi session,” Marianne said leadingly.
Felix pushed his cold tea away from him. “I suppose that would be nice,” Felix agreed.
“Great, then it’s settled!” Marianne clapped her hands together, “Tomorrow you’ll go over to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and help out.”
“I – what?” Felix sent his grandmother a baffled look – nowhere in their exchange did Felix agree to anything.
Marianne blinked innocently, “You’ll help out, right? Fu and I will be busy preparing the tai-chi space.”
Felix sighed and nodded. He knew better than to try and win an unwinnable argument – if his grandmother wanted something done, it got done period.
~~~~~~~
The sun had barely touched the sky when his grandmother woke him shook him awake. Felix squinted blearily at his grandmother carefully picking through his clothing.
“…Wha?” was the best his sleep-addled brain could muster.
“C’mon dear, best get up – remember you promised to help the Dupain-Chengs?” Marianne announced over her shoulder, “It’ll reflect poorly on you if you’re late.”
Felix stood and rubbed his eyes with one hand and patting down his hair with the other. Marianne tched at his poor attempt at becoming presentable and grabbed a brush from the counter.
“Your hair is getting much too long,” Marianne complained as the brush snagged on a tangle.
The pain on his scalp jogged his brain into wakefulness. “Grandmum, please” he said as he took the brush out of her hands, “I’m not five – I can get ready by myself.”
Marianne arched a delicate brow at his declaration. “Then be quick about it.” She strode out of his room.
~~~
“Ah, you must be Felix! Come in, come in.” Felix found himself ushered into the Dupain-Cheng bakery by the largest man he had ever seen. “Dear, the help is here,” the man called out jovially.
It only clicked that this man was Mr. Dupain when Mrs. Cheng waved from the kitchen doorway.
Felix stared at the empty bakery display, confused. He didn’t see why his grandmother had insisted he go to the bakery so early – tai chi class wouldn’t start for hours. Wasn’t he just here to pick up the canelés?
“It was so nice to hear from Ms. Lenoir that you wanted to help us this morning,” Mr. Dupain went on blithely unaware of Felix’s confusion, “So? What kind of baking experience do you have?”
“Um…none?” Felix answered unsurely.
Mr. Dupain clapped him on the back and laughed, “No worries! We all have to start out somewhere. Enthusiasm is more important anyways in the beginning, is what I always say. Let’s get you an apron and see how you do with measurements.”
Numbly, Felix let himself be lead further into the bakery. When his grandmum had asked him to help out, he didn’t realize that she meant anything more than acting as a delivery boy. He certainly didn’t expect that she volunteered him to help the whole bloody bakery.
“Felix, good morning,” Marinette said between breaths, entering the kitchen holding an enormous bag of flour and wearing an equally large smile.
“Here let me help,” Felix said in lieu of a greeting. He scurried over to help share the burden. His hands brushed against hers.
“Thanks,” Marinette said gratefully.
He was so close he could count the freckles on the bridge of her nose if he wanted. He forgot all the reasons he why he was annoyed with his grandmother.
“No problem, it’s what I’m here for after all.”
---------
Part 3
Tags!
@northernbluetongue,  @mystery-5-5, @mewwitch, @sweenyalice, @trainflavor, @umiko9692 
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dragonpigeons · 4 years
Text
Roommates Part 1
Tags/warnings: Deku x Reader, Deku x Self-insert, Slowburn, SFW, Aged-Up Characters, Roommates AU, Pro Hero Deku, Deku thirst, copious amounts of self indulgence, Deku muscles (ye have be warned! 😂) Other characters to be added in future parts including OCs.
Summary: Riida stumbles upon Deku and his muscles.
A/N: Here we are, the first part of my Deku x Reader/Riida fic. I’m a bit nervous about sharing this so please be gentle LOL. Part 2 is out on my Patreon early if you want to support me there and check it out!
====
There he was in the middle of the shared kitchen and living room space.
"Oh hey," the famous hero named Deku greeted cheerfully. He was doing press ups with arms that were very toned. Very muscular too. And very sweaty. "Don't mind me, just doing my early morning workout," he chirped happily.
And there you were in the doorway. In dishevelled, baggy pjs that made your figure look lumpy, and your hair in disarray like a drawing gone wrong.
"Okay," you quipped and you whipped your stiff legs to the kitchen in order to hide your sorry state.
You couldn't believe it. Two days ago you had moved into this two-room apartment for work, having the whole place to yourself. The landlady had told you that there would be another person coming to rent the other room. You hadn't expected it to be this soon though, much less by the No.1 Hero, of all people.
You wondered if this was a dream. After all this was your favourite hero in the same apartment as you. Somehow you managed to make breakfast and sit down to eat it, focusing entirely on taking big chunks out of your toast instead of the hot sweaty man on the floor grunting in front of you.
“So what’s your name?” asked Deku in the middle of his reps.
You answered him.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Deku," he replied with a smile. "I just moved in last night. I hope I wasn’t too noisy."
Deku got up and announced he was going to take a shower. “I hope we get to know each other over the coming days!” he said brightly before turning to go to his room, leaving a trail of metaphorical sparkles in his wake.
You went to work that morning in a daze.
---
The next morning he was there again, doing sweaty press ups. Only this time he was topless, save for a white towel around his neck.
"Good morning!" he greeted enthusiastically, acting completely at home even though you had only just met yesterday.
"Good morning," you mumbled before scurrying to the kitchen. You felt coffee wouldn't be necessary after that sight. It was one thing to find out you were sharing an apartment with Deku, certainly another to find him half naked in the living room. Was this something you were going to have to get used to? Would you have to face his bare chest and abs every day?
"What you having for breakfast today?" asked Deku, completely unaware of your inner turmoil.
"Uh..." Your mind searched for some meaningful answer. You opened the fridge for inspiration. "Bacon and eggs," you said.
"Sounds yummy!"
Yummy.
The way he said that was so cute and now it was all you could think about as you cooked, ultimately serving as your distraction as you burnt your bacon and eggs, and your toast came out more brown than you would have liked. Even the orange juice you poured ended missing the target completely, landing on the counter instead of in your glass.
You heaved a heavy sigh.
"Everything alright?" Deku piped up like a curious meerkat standing up.
"Everything's fine," you squeaked, scrubbing up your spillage quickly.
“Need a hand?”
Deku’s voice was suddenly a lot closer and you found him leaning against the counter, just inches away. You yelped.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you,” Deku laughed, “but you looked like you were having trouble just now.”
“Oh-- Well-- It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just one of those mornings, y’know?” You tried to laugh it off even though the proximity of Deku’s pecs was making you nervous.
“Okay. I’ll leave you to it,” said Deku. “But don’t hesitate if you need any help!” He beamed at you before leaving to go to his room.
After he went, you sighed and slumped on the counter in relief. You weren’t sure how many more topless Deku mornings you could handle before you died.
---
"So what's your quirk?"
Deku was moving his arms and turning his body in a very focused manner. He looked like he was doing tai chi. Fortunately he was wearing a hoodie this time to cover up his upper body. Unfortunately his legs were on show, thanks to his shorts, and they were very chiseled and very determined to get you hot under the collar if you stared too long.
"I can see infrared and ultraviolet waves," you answered, sipping your tea too quickly and burning your mouth. You covered your face up so your pained expression wouldn’t be noticed.
"Oh? What does that look like?" Deku asked, interest piqued.
"Well," you said, after you recovered a little, "infrared looks like a reddish glow around things that emit heat. Ultraviolet by itself is like a white-blue or white-violet sort of colour. But it actually makes things look different? It gives more colour and more contrast. If that makes sense."
Deku nodded, making humming noises. "Interesting. Do you use it in your line of work?" He stretched out his leg high in a kicking stance, the shorts riding down to reveal more of his thigh. You took a very deep breath.
"Not really," you answered, trying not to visibly sweat, "I just do a simple office job. It's not a very useful quirk actually. It makes everything look rather overwhelming when I turn it on."
"I see," said Deku, moving into another stance and thankfully putting his leg down. He started rambling about all the ways your quirk could be useful in rescue situations for detecting missing people trapped under rubble or seeing through walls during recon missions. You listened dutifully, gradually pulled into his words.
It was something you genuinely liked about Deku. All his ramblings, though he sometimes got carried away in interviews, made for an interesting listen. They showed just how knowledgeable he was, especially where quirks were concerned. Sometimes he went into very complex things which you didn’t understand but you didn’t mind it at all. It was a joy to listen to him.
“You’re smiling.”
“Huh? Yes?”
“What are you smiling about?” Deku asked, pausing in his stance.
“Oh, nothing! Just… I think it’s nice to hear you being so passionate about your interests,” you answered sheepishly.
Deku chuckled and resumed his movements. “I’m glad. Usually people just get annoyed or look at me funny when I go off on my ramblings."
"Oh. Well. I don't think it's annoying."
Deku gave you a big grin as he said, "That makes me happy to hear! You’re such a nice person. And you have a nice smile, by the way.”
You blushed and thanked him. You were sure you would take his compliment to the grave.
====
A/N: End of Part 1. If you’ve read to the end, let me know what you think in the comments! Drop a like if you enjoyed it :D Feel free to add any feedback you have regarding the story or the tags/warnings I’ve used - if they are sufficient, if they should be replaced by something else or if I should add any. I want to be sure I’m doing it right for everyone who comes across this.
Also another reminder that Part 2 of Roommates is up early on my Patreon if you would like to support me there :D Thank you so much!
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A teaser from  @talltig‘s fic:
Afterlife entrepreneurship was hell.
Not literal Hell, of course (although Rey had visited once on a lark and frankly, it was far less interesting than she’d hoped), but a special one. A hell that seemed designed to drive her to madness.
“You’ve lost your what?” The man standing in front of her desk had already thoroughly explained, but something in Rey’s brain refused to compute. He really couldn’t have said—
“My paperclip.”
A pity. She hadn’t misheard.
“I—” There was no use for it. “Did you try looking for it in all of its usual places?”
His glare was fiery.
“Right. No. You came here for help and I—” Am baffled. I am really, really baffled. “I’ll help you. That was a standard question, very normal. Just wondering where I should start.”
The fire cooled, albeit only slightly. “As previously verbalized and recorded,” he shook the piece of paper in his hand, “I had it yesterday when I was feeding the ducks. I lost it somewhere between basket weaving and Tai Chi.”
Pick up your pen. Be a professional.
“I see.” That was good. Nice and neutral. She forced herself to nod, frowning faintly in a way she hoped exuded seriousness. “Any bit of information helps. The more I know, the faster we’ll find it. Are you familiar with my process?”
“How can I be familiar with your process? Didn’t you just open?” He pointed to a very incriminating set of unpacked boxes next to her coatrack, each of them helpfully labeled FRONT OFFICE. Finn had drawn a nipple in the middle of the second O.
“New location,” she lied.
“Your pens are still in plastic.”
“New location, new pens,” she said hastily. 
The complete work will be released on February 14 as part this year’s Reylo Charity Anthology: Across the Stars. Donate today to receive your copy!
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the-nerdy-stjarna · 5 years
Text
AOS Rewatch: S1E7 “The Hub”
Love that extraction.
“Where are the dogs?” *adjusts tie* “Don’t be ridiculous”
“Whatever you do, don’t breath.” Agent Shaw holds his breath. "That was a joke.” She’s so precious.
Jemma getting so excited about the Hub. Have I mentioned she’s precious?
Sitwell. Hydra Scum!
Victoria Hand. **swoon** She’s scary, but also so—just like—I have respect for her. (Maybe not in this episode but definitely later on.)
“Do you mean?” — “I think she does.” — **pan to Fitz and the sliding door**
Can we just appreciate the piece of art that is that sliding door scene?
Jemma being nervous and Fitz trying to play it cool (yet not refusing the antivenin pack). Those two are just—
**touches his hand** “You’ll be careful?” **UGLY CRYING**
“Oh, I almost forgot. I made you this.” **EXCITED SCREAMING. THE SANDWICH!!!!!!!!**
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That little Jemma Simmons nose crunch. **patent pending**
Jemma being nervous. No one touch the night-night gun.
“Which non-expression is this?” Hehehe.
Coulson stumbling over “It’s a magical place.” EEEK!
“How long can you hold your breath under water?” — “I don’t know.” — “Are you familiar with the term ‘slam and cram’”? — “No. And I don’t think I want to be.” — “How attached are you to your pinky?” — “Very, very attached. And before you ask another terrifyingly vague question let me be clear: any plan that involves even one of those scenarios isn’t going to work for me.” MUHAHAHA. I love their interactions.
“I can't be a part of your bad girl shenanigans. I like following the rules, and doing what’s expected of me. It makes me feel nice.” Season1!Jemma is so relatable to me it hurts. Also, I’m still hoping to level up to later badass!Jemma’s
“Fitz? Tortured?” And that’s all it takes to make Jemma Anne Simmons jump into action.
“Of course, mishka.” Everyone falls in love with little bear—I mean Fitz.
“It’s nothing. Really. I’m just a man.” non-humble Fitz at his best.
Underappreciated genius totally saved the day.
“Already moving. Hurry up.” **LOL**
One does not simply interrupt Melinda May when she does her tai-chi. 
That entire scene between Jemma and Sitwell is so painful yet so brilliant and hilarious. “You certainly have a gorgeous head.”
One does not simply throw away the special sandwich!
Anyone else relieved that that truck drove precisely over that mag pouch and not a hint to the left or right? I’ll just ignore realism here :D
Ward realizing there’s no extraction team.
“This will take awhile.” — “You have 10 minutes.” — “I thought you’d say 5.”
“I am every bit the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent you are.” Oh, Fitz, you’re so much better than him.
“And I’m bloody starving.” That’s my Fitz. #relatable
“I just did that?... Okay. Let’s go.” Precious lion getting more confident.
Hand’s little smile at the end. See, she’s nice. She just doesn’t like people to see it.
“Well done, Fitz.” Jemma being so proper when really she was so worried and probably just wants to hug him and ensure herself he’s really okay. They’re so precious.
Fitz lying about the sandwich. **ugly crying**
The face you make when Jemma Anne Simmons tells you that she shot a superior officer in the chest.
Skye learning more about her past. **ugly crying**
Coulson trying to get access to his own file and being denied. EEEEEK!
Bonus: I wrote an alternate universe fic that features the final Fitzsimmons scene of this episode in Chapter 2 (and Fitzsimmons realizing their feelings for each other a lot sooner than in canon ;) ): Agree to Disagree
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