#ask me for an absolutely wrong summary because i know two characters & i'm not even sure of one guy's name lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 22: I May Be Right or I May Be Crazy

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty two of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ because it handles some heavy subjects! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Seriously it is DARK. THIS ONE IS REALLY DARK! Angst, Cursing, Mentions of Abuse (sort of- it's more the reader being used without knowledge of it and I'm not sure what to call that), Numbness, Mentions of character going through some HEAVY EMOTIONS and INTERNAL TRAUMA , Violence, Explicitly Described Torture, Fire, Graphic depiction of death, Blood, Gore, Sexual References, Family Problems. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

A/N: I'm serious guys this one is really gory, violent, and bloody. I mean, so is the show. BUT this is an additional warning if you don't like reading that kind of stuff, please do not read this. It also handles a really delicate issue with the reader going through something that no one should ever have to. I've never written something like this before and honestly I don't think I ever want to again, but it had to be addressed...

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

*********************************************

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" Ben says, gently pushing back a few strands of your hair from your face, fingers trailing against your cheeks, warmed from the morning sun that peaks through the large trees which shield Legend's property from the rest of the world.

Butcher had finally found Mindstorm, figured out which cabin he was hiding at, and although you wanted to go to make sure that Ben was alright, you knew that you couldn't go with him.

There was something you needed to do and you needed to do it without Ben there. It had to be handed delicately. You weren't sure what you would learn, what it would confirm or deny, and as much as it hurt you to be apart from Ben, you had to do it alone.

It was two days after your revelation, after you received what seemed like divine wisdom while staring at your daughter as if seeing her for the first time in forty years and understanding what it was that you'd forgotten. It had been hard to laugh off why you'd shattered a mug during Butcher's little pow-wow, even Rosemary was concerned after, but you'd waved her off and said that you were just getting accustomed to your new supe strength.

But Ben wasn't fooled. When you went upstairs to clean the alcohol from your clothes Ben had followed and tried to get you to tell him what was wrong, but you'd only said that you were tired. He knew you were lying, but he only sighed and hugged you because he didn’t really know what else to do.

And now standing outside of Legend's house while Ben, Butcher, and Hughie were about to go after Mindstorm you wanted to tell him what you believed, but you still couldn't.

You had to find out for yourself.

"Yeah. I don't want to leave Rosemary or Lou." You reply leaning in to his touch. It was true, you didn't, but it wasn't the whole truth and it made you feel guilty. You'd never lied to him before or well, hadn't tried to intentionally trick him. And it felt worse to do this now that the two of you were starting over, and when everything felt more wonderful than you could have imagined all those years ago.

Ben eyes you for a moment and you're suddenly worried that he's been a mind reader this whole time and he's just never said anything. But then his expression softens. "Are you sure you're okay? You haven't said too much since the other day."

"I'm fine." You touch the front of his supe suit, laying your hand directly over his heart and feeling the gentle thud in the palm of your hand. It was difficult not to touch him now, not after the boundary had been crossed so many times over the past two days. Somewhere deep down you worried that Ben was still uncomfortable with you doing something so intimate in public.

You were aware that everyone was looking at the two of you, Rosemary and Lou standing more towards the house on the front porch and Hughie and Butcher were standing by Butcher's car parked in the long driveway. Butcher's car still had a giant hole in the roof from when Ben punched through it and when he saw the hole, Butcher had threatened to send Ben back to Russia and you threatened to melt Butcher into a puddle.

But Ben gently touches your wrist, where your hand rests against his chest, frowning slightly.

"Fine. I've got a few things on my mind-" You whisper, hating how easily he could read you, but at the same time you loved it.

Ben made you feel seen, and after years of feeling invisible, feeling like you were losing you best friend, and feeling like he would never care about you the same way, it made you happy and comforted.

"Then tell me. I want to help." Ben's hand slides up your wrist to your hand, entwining his fingertips with yours and surprising you again. He was being so open and thoughtful in front of everyone. His eyes search yours as if he was trying to see your thoughts and it made you smile again to understand how much he loved you and cared about you.

"Ben." You breathe, squeezing his hand. "I don't want to talk about it now. Can we talk about it when you get back?"

"Is it why you're not coming with me?" His frown deepens.

"A part of it. But I really want to make sure that Lou and Rosemary are safe."

Ben raises his gaze to look at where Rosemary stands frowning at the two of you, before he looks back at you. "Okay." But he doesn't seem happy with the turn of events.

You didn't blame him, you didn't want him to go face Mindstorm alone even with Hughie and Butcher. You still didn't trust Butcher and of all your old teammates Mindstorm was the most troubled.

"Can you promise me something?" You ask Ben, looking up at him.

"Anything."

"Watch out for the kid."

"The kid?" Ben looks confused. "Lou?"

"No. Hughie." You glance over to where Hughie is standing at the back of the car with Butcher.

Probably talking about the Temp V they're going to shoot up to take down Mindstorm.

You really didn't want to leave Ben with Mindstorm of all people. Mindstorm was probably one of the only supes that could do something to Ben. Ben did have some psychic immunity, but you thought that Mindstorm could peel away the layers, sink deep into his mind, make Ben see the things that always plagued him. And the last thing you wanted was for Ben to be trapped in an automatic loop of him listening to his father say what a disappointment he was. You were trying to make him forget those things, just as Ben tried his hardest to make you forget the things your mother said to you.

If Mindstorm put Ben through that, you were going to hunt him down to the ends of the earth and make him understand what it was like for someone to peel the skin from your flesh bit by bit and then make him eat that brain of his that he loved so much.

Plus you figured that the worst thing that could happen is Mindstorm would lock you in your own head and you'd have to spend your final hours with your dead mother, which yes that would suck, but at least at the end of it you'd have a new fun superpower to torture Mindstorm with. Seemed like a good trade-off if you had to spend your last moments with the bitch herself.

I wonder what he'd make her say to me, what I'd see. I've heard it all before, don't really think that he'd make me see anything I haven't seen before or heard before.

"Why?"

"Hughie's not like us. None of this is him. He's different. He's a good person and all of this is-” You glance over at Hughie again, before looking at Ben. “ Just look out for him."

Ben's hand tightens in yours where it still rests against his chest. "Fine. But if that fucker comes for me I'm not going to tip-toe around Hughie's feelings. I'm going to kill Mindstorm, that's why I'm going there."

"I know." You nod.

"I mean you saw the shit he did to those kids-" Ben whispers the last part because he doesn't want Lou to hear, but notices Rosemary perk up, where she stands on the front porch.

"Yeah. I remember."

Mindstorm was more fucked up than most of the others on your team, found joy in making people see terrible things. And his favorite targets were children. Stan had a hell of a time covering that up, covering up Mindstorm's morning walks through parks and on the edges of elementary schools. He liked to live in their minds as he took them apart bit by bit, exposed them to his own twisted reality.

Mindstorm wasn’t a good person, but you knew that Hughie was.

"I'm not asking you to spare his life." You whisper back. "He was one of the worst from our old team. I'm just asking you to look out for the kid."

"I will."

You nod, still worried. He was going with Hughie and Butcher, but it still felt like he was alone if you weren't with him. The problem was you couldn’t see the way around it. This was your chance to go alone to find some answers, but you didn't like it, didn't like leaving Ben.

Probably about as much as Ben hated leaving you.

“I promise I’ll come back.” He murmurs pressing his forehead against yours, green eyes soft in the morning light. He was mistaking you hesitation for your fear of him leaving and never coming back.

You reach up with your free hand to touch his cheek. "I know." Your thumb gently rubs over his bearded cheek, smiling up at him. "I love you." You whisper.

Ben leans down and kisses you softly, just a fleeting brush of his lips against yours that leaves you wanting more. "I love you too Sweetheart." He murmurs with a soft smile.

Again you weren't used to that, used to him looking at you like you were his whole world, and you never wanted him to stop.

Ben pulls away and raises his gaze to where Rosemary stands arms crossed over her chest with Lou standing beside her watching with wide eyes.

"Be careful." Rosemary says, but it sounds pained, almost as if it took a large amount of effort to say, but you were happy she said something to him that wasn't meant to hurt him.

Maybe that's a good sign. You think to yourself, but then you notice the frown on her face. Or maybe not.

He nods once, but as soon as he takes a step towards where Hughie and Butcher are waiting by the car, Lou runs to him, her tiny arms pumping as fast as she can.

"Ben wait!" She cries, throwing herself against his leg and pressing her head into his right knee. "Don't go. If you go Aunty y/n will be sad again!" Lou mumbles into the fabric, hugging him tight.

Ben stiffens, his eyes shifting to you and for a second you see something unfamiliar flash in his gaze, something painful. It shakes you to your core, and makes you remember how he looked when he stood above your bed the night he came back and said that he couldn't lose you and when he sat in the car and showed you how upset he was that he wasn't there for you when you were pregnant with Rosie.

It made you want to pull him into your arms and hold him close, make him feel loved all over again, show him how much you wanted him here with you despite everything that happened in the past.

He crouches down so he can look Lou in the eye. "I won't be gone long. I'm a little harder to kill than these other sons of-" Ben stops to sensor what he was going to say and clears his throat. "Um. I'm a little harder to keep away than other people."

"Do you promise?" She says.

"Yes I promise honey." Ben smiles tightly.

"Take this for good luck." Lou reaches into the front of her bright pink overalls to pull out a small yellow flower about the size of Ben’s pinky, holding on to the stem in her little hand.

You have no idea where she got it, only that she was holding it out to Ben as if it had the power to save the universe.

Ben looks from Lou's face to the flower, but takes it from her. “Thank you.” He places it carefully in his pocket and zips it in, but before he can stand to go, Lou throws her arms around Ben’s neck and hugs him tight.

You're sure that Ben must barely feel it, you'd seen a supe try to choke him out and Ben only laugh at them. But this is different.

Ben doesn’t move, in fact it doesn’t look like he’s really breathing. His eyes flick to where you’re standing, wide in surprise and you give him an encouraging smile, because Lou already loves Ben just as much as you do. Ben’s arms are still at his sides awkwardly, but he finally wraps one arm over Lou’s back to hold him to him, gently as if he’s afraid he’ll crush her.

"I'll come back." He murmurs to her. "I promise." But his eyes aren't on Lou, they're on you, open and almost earnest. Making you understand again that he didn't want to leave you, that he wanted to stay, but if he had to go, he'd always come back to you.

Rosemary watches with a frown from the porch, but doesn’t say anything. In the days that had followed their initial meeting she was still trying her best to let him know that she wasn't going to be his friend, that she wasn't going to forgive him.

It hurt you. You didn't say that to her, because you didn't want her to be guilted into liking Ben, but it hurt. It hurt to see your daughter push him away, when all Ben wanted was family. You understood that. Understood that in the way he treated Lou and understood it in the way he treated you.

He was so different than before and you wished Rosemary could see it like you did, but you understood that she needed to realize that all by herself no matter how long it took. You all had time.

Maybe that was the problem, Rosemary had an eternity to hate Ben, but maybe the good thing was that you had an eternity to make him feel loved.

Lou pulls back from him and you take her hand while Ben stands.

"Oi' while we still got daylight!" Butcher shouts from his car, leaning back against the door.

But just before you think Ben is going to go to the car, he steps close to you and kisses you so fiercely you don't remember how to breathe and then he's gone just as suddenly.

You watch the car pull away holding Lou's hand tightly, while it goes down the long drive and finally vanishes in the thicket of trees. It doesn't feel as warm anymore, you're not sure if that's because Ben is gone or because you're preparing yourself for what you have to do next.

"Here you go kitten. This is the only one I could find" Legend says walking through the front door of his house and past Rosemary to hand you a knee-length dark green leather coat. It was vintage, and you had asked him to find something that didn't make you look ridiculous. Legend had closets full of clothes that would have made you look like you were in a Solid Gold music video, and Ben had started wearing the clothes around the house because he didn’t have anything else.

Of course on him they looked good, Ben could be wearing a paper bag and a shower cap and still somehow pull it off.

"Thank you." You release Lou's hand to take it, putting your arms through the sleeves so it hung over your jeans and your black t-shirt.

I swear if I lose one more jacket someone is going to pay. Yeah, because that's what I should be upset about, losing another jacket.

"What do you need that for?" Rosemary asks.

"Lou." You crouch down next to her, smiling up into her freckled cheeks. "I want you to go inside and draw me a field of sunflowers okay?"

"A whole field?" Her eyes brighten.

"A whole field."

"Can I give it to Ben?" She asks.

"Of course you can honey. I think he’d like that very much.” You tuck her dark hair behind her ear before she turns and runs through the large wooden double doors at the front of Legend’s home.

You stand. "I have to do something."

"What do you mean? I thought you just told Ben that you weren't going after Mindstorm?"

"I'm not going after Mindstorm."

"Then what? You’re going to kill someone else aren’t you?” Rosemary crosses her arms over her chest, obviously upset.

You don’t answer.

“Why? Why are you doing this-“ She shouts exasperated.

“Something about everything that happened doesn’t sit well with me.”

“What do you mean everything that happened?”

“Ben was Vought’s golden boy. And I don’t understand why Stan Edgar would just let him be taken like that.” You look at where Legend stands. You didn't think that he knew anything about it, hoped that he didn't. He was one of your oldest friends and to find out that he had betrayed you the same as Payback had betrayed Ben wouldn't end well.

By now he's lit a cigarette, smoking it thoughtfully. "I've wondered the same thing. Stan Edgar was involved in everything, and for him to give the go ahead for Payback to hand Soldier Boy over, means that there must have been some money exchanged for him to green light it." Legend blows out a lungful of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face. "Stan never brought up much with me, just that he was excited that the team was going to be given a chance to help out in Nicaragua." Legend frowns. "I will say that before the premiere that night, Stan seemed to already know that y/n wasn't going to be on that trip. In fact he was convinced that you were going to stay state-side and work with Vogelbaum on some things."

"Vogelbaum?" Rosemary questions looking at him.

"He was the main scientist for Vought, he had in fingers in every pie, knew the extent of all our powers, except mine." You wave a hand. "I always refused bloodwork, I didn't want him to be poking and prodding around in my DNA for too long. But he definitely was big on genetic testing. They were trying to make a new hero-" You pause remembering what Vogelbaum said the night of the premiere. You hadn't remembered what he said until now. When Vogelbaum mentioned the next generation of heroes.

"What is it?" Legend asks.

"Stan knew I wasn't going to Nicaragua. He knew that Countess would make Ben push me away, but what if he was working with Vogelbaum?"

"What would that help?" Rosemary interjects.

"The night of the premiere Vogelbaum said that he wanted me to come by the lab, to meet someone. He said that he was working on "the next generation of heroes" or something." You shake your head as if trying to move things back in place so you can understand. "There's something I'm missing about the whole situation. Some missing piece that doesn't fit." You bite the inside of your cheek. "Stan tried to come talk to me after Ben died, but I never heard what he had to say- I broke his nose and threw him out."

"Maybe he was going to try to get you to come to the lab again." Legend shrugs.

"But why were they so adamant about that it just makes no sense. Why was I important? Why me? It could have been anyone. Hell, they could have had Countess go instead of me. There were other women, other supes. Why did I matter so much?"

You glance at Rosemary again, examining her face and seeing the same thing you realized the other day. Deep down you understood why, but you wanted to be wrong, you didn't want to believe that someone would take that from you, that someone was capable of doing something like that.

"But do you have to kill someone to find out why?" Rosemary pleads. "I don't understand how you're okay with killing people-" She begins to say looking at you like she's never met you before.

"You think I'm okay with killing people?" You ask her. "You think I like this?"

"No but-"

"I've done a lot of shit that I'm not proud of. I've lost control. I've killed people. But believe me when I say that what I'm about to do, I do for you. It might not seem that way right now, but I hope that one day you can understand that."

"Mom I-" She starts, but you hold out your hand. She looks from it to you as if confused, but then finally takes it.

"If Homelander comes here, you kill him. Do you understand me? You don't give him a chance to speak, you kill him." You say, feeling your powers transfer into Rosemary. It didn't hurt, it never did, in fact if she did it to anyone else they probably wouldn't have noticed. Her ability was almost undetectable, the only thing that changes is the quick flash of molten gold in her eyes when she does so. But it was instantaneous and it didn't matter how long Rosemary held on to someone, all it took was skin to skin contact, one touch and that was it.

Rosemary's expression hardens. "Okay."

"I love you." You squeeze her hand once more before you let go.

"I love you too mom."

You take a few steps away from her. "I'll be back tonight. I promise. If Ben gets back before me, just tell him that I needed to do something and that I'll be back. Don't let him try to come after me."

"He's not the easiest person to tell what to do." She sighs.

"I know." You shrug. "He's just like you."

"He is not-"

"He is."

"You need to borrow the car kitten?" Legend asks, beginning to search through his pockets for the keys to his black 1967 Impala. It was in mint condition and Legend was proud of it.

He should be. It's a nice car.

"Nah I think I'll hitch-hike." Your smile is triumphant and maybe a bit mischievous, as you take to the sky, leaving the world and everything you know behind.

If only you knew what was coming.

************************************************************************

Stan Edgar was a simple man. He liked his whiskey neat, his coffee black, his cigars Cuban, his suits pressed, his dinner at 6 pm sharp, and his women poised. Stan Edgar rarely deviated from his plans, never cancelled a meeting, and took every phone call no matter how late. He read the Wall Street Journal each day, checked his blood pressure meticulously, and was in top shape for a man of his age. After years of shaping his image, Stan Edgar's life was the epitome of control and composure.

Not a hair was ever out of place, his apartment on the Upper East Side was perfectly organized, and he never got angry, he got even. He never lost a minute of sleep. He never raised his blood pressure and he knew the exact price that a minute of his time was worth.

He took his morning coffee in the dining room of his large five-bedroom penthouse apartment with a bowl of oatmeal while he read the Wall Street Journal and left his home at exactly 7 am only to return at 5 pm to read through various briefs before his housekeeper delivered his dinner to the same dining room table that he had previously had breakfast on.

When he was taken off the board from Vought, his schedule had deviated slightly, but it was easy for him to control the company, especially with the connections that Stan Edgar had worked his entire life to maintain.

Stan Edgar's life had reached a point of comfortable routine and after forty years it was as it should be. He knew the ins and outs of New York City, he had a stable home, various rental properties, rising stocks, and a control of most of the inner workings of Vought even with Homelander's hostile takeover. Homelander was proving to be a bigger problem than he hoped, but Stan Edgar did not allow himself to revel in Homelander's destruction of the company Stan worked so hard to build up.

Every moment in his life was mapped out to the second and Stan Edgar had worked hard to make it to the top, had crushed many an executive, assistant, and person to gain the power and status that he had.

When Forbes did a profile on him, they had proudly described his rise to power, of course there were details left out, pieces of Stan Edgar's life that he had worked hard to sweep under the rug. But he did not lose sleep over that.

His apartment is cold, silent, and dark when he walks through the front door at 6 pm sharp, odd because Stan expected his housekeeper to be standing there to take his coat as she had been for the past twenty years. The same navy blue wool coat he shrugs out of and hangs on the maple coatrack just inside the front door in his foyer.

You can hear the sound of his footsteps along the marble tiled floor as he makes his way through the silent apartment, his dark brown shoes polished to a shine, squeaking slightly against the polished tiles.

"Roberta?" Stan calls looking for his housekeeper. His voice caries through the darkness.

You could smell the tobacco from his last cigar on his suit coat, his heady cologne, and his hair oil that was just a little spicy. It was old fashioned, something that you could remember from the first time you met him. You could hear the steady beat of his heart in his chest, perfectly maintained by the bottle of medication you had found in his bathroom only a few hours ago.

You already knew Stan Edgar's routine by heart, knew exactly how he spent his days, and the kind of person he was. Today was not the first time that you had trailed him, wove through the crowded streets behind his thin form as he moved oblivious to your shadowing, and watched his driver Carlos pick him up and drop him off at the correct times. You had done it many times, taken days to understand who he was, understand where he went at what time, and who he met with.

Nothing in Stan Edgar's life was a mystery to you.

Hughie's revelation of Victoria Newman's relation to Stan Edgar was not a surprise. It was a piece of information you held close to your heart if things between the two of you ever went South. You didn't fear her power and you weren't above torturing the weapon that Stan had turned her into. It would have been difficult, she was after all a senator, but it would be easy to inflict a small problem within her body telekinetically, something that looked normal to the naked eye.

Of course what you were about to do to Stan was going to be difficult to explain to the police.

You had contingencies in place for that though, there was nothing to worry your head over. The hardest thing you'd done today was get out of bed this morning and your day had included disposing of Stan Edgar's security detail, who hadn't even been able to touch you, let alone know that you were following him.

Some security detail.

You took a drag from your cigarette, leaning back in the high-backed chair in Stan's ornate living room, the tip burning orange in the darkness, the smoke obscuring your form where you lounge back against the faded green velvet. It already smelled like cigar smoke and you knew that it was where Stan smoked his nightly pipe after dinner, the velvet holding the strong scent of tobacco and Stan's ancient cologne. You hadn't had a cigarette since you were pregnant with Rosemary, but there was something about the drama of smoking one that you couldn't pass up.

Stan turns into the living room, but his foot hits something solid where nothing should be and he pauses.

"Roberta?" He says again hesitantly. "Did you move the couch?"

She wouldn't answer him, couldn't answer him. Killing her had probably been a mistake, but when you realized that she was an ex-hero hired by Stan as an extra precaution to make sure no-one entered his apartment, it had made you feel better, especially when she tried to electrocute you, which had surprisingly slowed you down, but not enough to spare her life.

You hear Stan's fingers fumble against the light switch on the wall and the hiss of his surprise when his hand comes back sticky and wet.

You can see him clearly in the darkness, Homelander's x-ray vision meant that you'd never have a problem seeing in the dark ever again. You watch Stan's nose wrinkle in disgust, confused at the discovery, but then watch as he reaches again and flips on the light, his eyes leveled at the ground trying to figure out what it was that he stumbled onto.

His security detail had come to sweep his apartment as they did each day thirty minutes before he arrived home, and it had been the last thing that they had ever done. The blood from the bodies was soaking through the hardwood floors and trickling down to the oriental rugs below Stan's modern living room furniture. The thick copper smell of blood was everywhere and you weren't sure how he missed it.

You hear the sharp intake of his breath as he sees the bodies, traces the ripped limbs and headless forms of his pathetic security detail at his feet. There were others in his bedroom, one in the kitchen, and another hanging from the horns of a moose head over the fireplace at your right where you sit, the blood flowing thick down the beige wallpaper and dripping onto the once pristine floors. There were nine in total, and although the past version of you would have maybe felt some remorse for their deaths, you were finding it difficult to, especially after realizing what you had.

"It's hard to find good help these days." You arch your brow taking a drag from the cigarette perched between your index and middle finger. "I'd say you paid too much for their service given how easy they were to dispose of. I'm kind of disappointed, thought that they'd be a bit more of a challenge."

Stan looks up from the bodies, eyes wide, to see you sitting there in the armchair. There was blood flecked over your shirt, on your jacket, in your hair and on your cheeks that you hadn't bothered wiping away, you figured that there would be more soon and you didn't care.

"Y/n." He keeps his voice composed, but you can hear his hand shift to his pocket for his phone.

It doesn't get far.

You telekinetically pull him over the back of the couch and force him on his knees in front of the ornate square coffee table poised in the center of the room. His hands palm down, fogging the glass with his body temperature. His body is outlined in bright purple, completely at your mercy and under your control, your own eyes glowing bright purple.

You allow yourself to take another drag of cigarette and let a cloud of smoke trickle out from your full lips. "It's good to see you Stan. How long has it been? Ten years? You look good better than my teammates did anyway."

"I was wondering when you were going to drop by." He says tightly eyeing you. "Are you going to keep pretending that you're not Indigo?"

You smile and laugh at him. "I think I'm done pretending."

You weren't surprised that Stan knew. When you'd seen him at your art show all those years ago when you moved back to the city you had suspected he knew, not to mention that he had called Legend to ask about you. It was unfortunate that Stan knew, because now you worried who else knew, but you also figured that the cat was out of the bag as soon as you fought Homelander.

Plus, maybe the secret would die with Stan.

"Is Ben here?" Stan asks, and you hear the way his voice sticks on Ben's name. His eyes shift to the dark corners of the room as if he believes that Ben will materialize from the shadows.

It's like him to be more afraid of Ben than me. No one was ever afraid of me. I was just Ben's little friend, another supe that they could dress up and put on display. They should have been afraid.

"No, I came alone. Thought I'd give him the night off."

"I’m surprised you let him back into your life after everything that happened." Stan replies, but you don't miss the twitch of his body as he tries to escape the grip of your powers. He wouldn't. Your hold was unbreakable for someone like him. If you had decided to use your powers on Ben or on Homelander, you were sure that it wouldn't hold them for long, they were too strong.

You examine Stan again. His body is rigid in your hold, head tilted up to stare at you, hair flopping forward into his face from when you yanked him over the couch, and his knees are pressed into the blood soaked carpet on the living room floor.

You knew what he was doing, he was trying to get inside your head, try to make you turn against Ben the way everyone else did, but you wouldn't fall for it, not again.

"Well you did you best to keep it that way, didn’t you Stan?"

"I don't know what you're talking about-" Stan's words are cut off in a gasp as your telekinetic grip tightens on his body, squeezing him tight for a moment before you release the pressure, but keep him where he is.

"Do me a favor, don't lie to me. It's insulting, plus we're old friends." You smile sweetly. "And I always love seeing my old friends. Especially ones who stabbed Ben and me in the back."

Your glowing purple eyes flick to the large painting on the living room wall. It's one of yours, a depiction of a quiet forest from your last show. It was weird to see a piece of the new life you crafted hanging there. "I'm flattered you bought one of my paintings."

"You always were talented. I was disappointed that you didn't start trying to sell them earlier. Probably would have sold more when you were a hero, could have enhanced your image." He says, but you can hear the edge beneath his voice. He's trying to keep conversation, make this diplomatic, when he knows there's no way out. You’d made sure of that. No one was coming to help Stan Edgar.

"I sell enough now. Thanks though." Your body stands from the chair, listening to the rapid beat of his heart in his chest, and gesture to the collection of tobacco pipes that line the mantle beneath the body of the security guard. "My dad had a pipe just like this one." You stop at a simple one, not carved, plain, a dark cherry wood that tapered into solid black. "Used to smoke right before he went to bed every night. I spent a lot of time sketching him sitting in his chair by the fireplace, learning what he looked like, tracing the plains of his face." You take another long drag from the cigarette.

It was hard to think about your father after all these years, you hadn't thought of your family in a long time, not when you had Rosemary and Lou and now Ben. But you could still remember those quiet evenings when there was a hint of a chill in the air and your father would smoke his pipe and listen to music from the phonograph he had in the corner while you sat at his feet and drew him. Sometimes your mother would join him with her own embroidery in the matching arm chair next to his. As much as you never got along with her, you could see how much she loved your father and how much he loved her.

"I'd never met Homelander in person before a few days ago. I'd seen his face on billboards, on energy drinks but never in person. I would have realized it years ago if I had." You trace the gentle curve of the pipe with a fingertip, exhaling another trail of smoke.

"Realized what?"

"I'm only going to ask you this once Stan." You pause as you turn to look at him. "Why does Homelander have my father's nose?"

It was obscure. You knew that. But it was what you had realized the other day when you were looking at Rosemary, the one feature that distinguished her from Ben, the one piece of yourself that she had, was the same one that Homelander did. You suspected that the smell of hair dye you smelled when you met Homelander for the first time was to cover up the brown hair that he must have shared with Ben, just as the makeup on his cheeks would cover the familiar freckles Rosemary had. They could have been twins, you could see it now.

Stan doesn't breathe, his muscles straining under his suit as he silently fights for his freedom, his heartbeat thuds loudly in your ears, but he doesn't answer you.

Your eyes glow a dangerous purple and the ceiling light flickers above the two of you, the sound of the static with each blink breaking up the wet tap of the blood dripping to the floor and the low pitched thrum of your powers that fills the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stan swallows.

"What did I say about lying to me?" You sigh, flicking the cigarette into the full length white curtains that remain closed over the living room windows, immediately catching fire. Of course they would, you'd soaked them in gasoline moments before Stan came into the room.

His eyes flick to the flames as they reach up to the ceiling, but the fire alarm wouldn't go off, you'd sabotaged it.

"The human body can withstand 50 pounds of pressure per square inch before it starts to crush. I’ve never crushed anyone before, mind you I’ve also never been crushed." You shrug your shoulders turning back to look at him. "But I'm very interested to see what it will do to your body."

Stan utters one word. "Please."

"It's funny." You take a step closer to him, tapping your lip thoughtfully. "I didn't ask you to beg for you life, I asked you to answer a simple question."

Stan still doesn't answer. The high pitched snap of his fingers one by one breaking is sharp as you increase the pressure on his hands , like the crisp sound of a wishbone at Thanksgiving.

Stan inhales sharply, his gaze lowering to what used to be his fingers, not quite realizing what the sound was. You watch as the realization rolls across his face like thunderclouds on a stormy day, as he realizes they have been reduced to mush beneath your powers and a scream rips from his throat, echoing through the empty hallways, but there's no one there to hear him scream. Blood swells beneath the ruined flesh, turning his skin a sickly shade of purplish-red, before oozing through the breaks in the tissue by the sharp points of what were the delicate bones of his hands.

"Ooo. That doesn't look too good buddy." You click your tongue. "You want to rethink your answer? Or do I have to do your toes to match?"

"Vogelbaum tried to tell you at the premiere." His voice is a weak growl, eyes not raising from his hands. "I tried to tell you too, but you broke my damn nose."

"Tell me what?" You hold your glowing purple hand over him like a warning prepared to crush whatever you have to, to make him speak.

He continues to look down at his ruined hands.

"Ah-ah-ah." You place a fingertip beneath his chin, feeling the stubble of his five o'clock shadow, so his gaze is now on you. "I want you to look at me."

"Ben was a manic, crazed, he needed to be replaced. He wouldn't follow orders, wouldn't listen to us. He only listened to you!" Stan spits, his eyes filled with rage and pain. "It was easy to turn the rest of the team against him. Countess was jealous of his attention on you, it was logical that she would be the one to break whatever you two had. Even Noir was easy to convince. He always was obsessed with you after you saved his life from that asshole." More blood seeps over the glass table.

You withdraw your hand from Stan's chin for a moment surprised. You knew that Countess was always trying to get between Ben and you, but the news of Noir's obsession was new.

"What do you mean Noir was obsessed with me?"

"Oh please." Stan seethes through his gritted teeth. "Did you really think that you kept losing things? Your hair ties, your underwear, your hairbrush, even that stupid fucking necklace you always wore! Noir was harder to keep out of your apartment than Ben whenever you were out of town. Not to mention he always asked to be put on the same interviews, given auditions in films you were in. Noir was always trying to get between Ben and you, but you never gave him the time of day. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to make sure you never figured out that he kept breaking in to your apartment?"

Your body goes cold. You knew the necklace Stan was talking about, the pearl necklace that your father had given to you all those years ago, the one that you'd lost a few months before your birthday and never figured out where it went, and the one that Ben had replaced on the night he gave you everything you wanted. You had noticed some things missing, the hair-ties and hairbrush, but you thought you'd left in the hotel rooms that Vought paid for, you had no idea that Noir had been in your apartment.

Whenever he talked to you, you thought that he was being friendly, that Noir was trying to be nicer to you because the rest of the team avoided you due to your close relationship Ben, but you never imagined that he wanted to be more.

"Noir was first on board with the plan. It didn't take much to get the others to fall in line." Stan continues.

"What plan?"

"The plan to replace Soldier Boy. But it had to be handled delicately, there couldn't just be any supe that took over. It had to be someone worthy, someone who exemplified the bullshit American Ideals that Ben used to boast about in all of those ridiculous films."

"So what? You sent Ben off to fucking Russia and you replaced him with Homelander? You shoved all that American dream shit down Homelander's throat and look what you created. You created a fucking monster!"

"It wasn't supposed to be that way. Vogelbaum wanted the replacement to grow up with a mother. He saw how Ben lived with only a father's influence and he wanted a soothing reassuring person in the replacement's life."

"You're not answering my question." You snarl, your hands beginning to glow brighter as you tighten your grip on his feet, preparing to crush them into mush.

"We had the genetic material from Soldier Boy it was harder to get it from you!" Stan shouts, feeling the pressure intensify in his feet, thinking that if he answers your question you'd spare them.

You stop for a moment, tilting your head to the side. The heat from the flames on your left growing with every passing second as they spread to the other curtains on the second large window. “What are you saying?”

“Did you really think we didn’t know what you could do?" Stan almost laughs, but it comes out in a choking cough. "We knew. Your power is one of the rarest we’d ever seen. And Dr. Vogelbaum hoped that your son would have the same one, that your son would possess some quality that you had and the qualities that Soldier Boy had. The perfect weapon. The perfect supe." Stan croaks. "A supe that could adapt and walk away from death like you could. A supe that was perfectly under our control, different than Soldier Boy."

“Are you saying that Homelander is my son?” Your voice is dangerously low, no more than a snarl.

Stan swallows. “Yours and Soldier Boy.”

With those words, the bones in Stan’s feet snap loudly as they both are reduced to nothing, but crushed bone and flesh, never to be used ever again.

But his scream of pain is wiped out by the roaring in your ears as you realize what he's said, realize exactly what Vogelbaum did all those years ago, realize exactly why he asked you to come to the lab when you danced together at the premiere.

It was what you suspected, but that didn’t mean that you were any less ready to hear it. The wave of emotion that crashes over you squeezes your heart in your chest, because what kind of a monster would do that? What kind of person would take something like that from you or from anyone?

Anger, pain, shock, rage, and horror all war in your chest, grappling against your ribs, choking your next breath from your lungs, and make you feel as though your body is tearing itself apart.

You think about the hollow look in Homelander's dark eyes, remember what Hughie told you he was doing to Annie, what Hughie told you he had threatened to do, and remember what Butcher said that Homelander did to his wife. You remember how cocky and confident he was at the Twins home, how unaffected he was by the gore of the bodies on the upper levels, and remember the way he didn't seem to care that he was hurting Ben, that he killed Butcher, and then tried to kill you.

That monster is my son, is Ben's son. He's Rosemary’s brother-

You could feel the anxiety rising, threatening to rip your own heart out of your chest, but then it suddenly shifts to all encompassing rage. The entire room shakes with the force of your anger, spider cracks appearing in the drywall all around the room, the windows in the room shatter sending glass blowing outward onto the street sixty stories below the penthouse apartment, and the furniture begins to shift and slide along the floor restlessly as the flames flare bright red and orange and cause the wallpaper to curl black.

"How did you get my genetic material?" Your voice is eerily calm as you gaze at him, vision going red.

Stan looks up at you, painful tears in his eyes. "We couldn't do it when Ben was with you. He was so damn protective of you, if we tried to touch you with him around he would have torn us apart, so we had to wait for him to go shoot one of those stupid films overseas." He gasps. "Vogelbaum said that you wouldn't remember. Said that it would be just like a bad dream.

You freeze when he says that, the memory of the nightmare that had plagued you for decades flashing across your mind, every detail becoming crystal clear. The voice of Vogelbaum telling the nurses to hold you down, the smell of his breath, his face gazing down at you from between your legs with a sickening smile on his face, while you tried to clear your head, the sound of your own screams ripping from your throat as you tried to fight the drugs they pumped into your system to keep you quiet.

"Egg extraction was difficult." Stan coughs, blood appearing on his bottom lip. "You killed two nurses and two orderlies. Almost killed Vogelbaum."

"I should have." You spit savagely. "If he was here, I would make him suffer. How could you do that? How could you do something so inhuman-"

Your body doesn't feel like your own, your skin is too tight, your next breath catching in your lungs, and a shudder of absolute disgust shakes through your bones. You feel the urge to throw up, to expel whatever images you can, to purge yourself because it meant they had been inside you, touched you, defiled you in a way that they believed was justified. Disgust, shame, horror and pure uninhibited rage shift along your skin in waves crackling in the air around your body. Everything you know is a lie. Everything that you thought you knew about the past nothing more than shades of gray.

"In the name of science there is no boundary, no limit that cannot be surpassed." Stan tries to smile, but it comes off as a grimace and as soon as he opens his mouth, his entire front row of top teeth rip from his mouth and land on the glass table, flecking blood over the surface.

Stan sputters, choking on the blood, eyes widening in pain, but he continues, his voice sticking around the holes where his teeth once were. “Vogelbaum tried to tell you that night. Tried to get you to come to the lab but you refused. He wanted the subject to have a mother, a figure that he respected, a way of reigning him in-"

"You have taken everything from him!" You snarl grabbing Stan by the throat, raising him to your face. "You have denied him the right of family. You made him into something inhuman something unrecognizable-"

"We didn't do anything." Stan cannot hold on to your wrist, tries to raise his ruined hands to place them against you skin, but they only slide off leaving smears of his blood against your flesh. "You chose this. You did this to him. You denied him a mother. We tried to allow you into his life and you refused."

"Don't you dare turn this on me. What you did to my son is not my fault. You turned him into a monster because you wanted a puppet, a weapon you could control. What Homelander became is all you and Vogelbaum. It has nothing to do with me." You throw Stan back against the opposite wall. "You made damn sure of that."

He lands in a heap, tries to rise to his feet, but the ruined stumps no longer work so he props himself up against the wall, taking shallow breaths, blood trickles down the corner of his mouth.

But Stan doesn't stay on the floor long, you raise him up, his body glowing again bright purple as he slams back into the wall, arms outstretched, legs hanging limply beneath him as he gasps for breath.

"When Butcher's wife had her son, Vogelbaum was happy he got another chance. Happy that Ryan had a mother figure to rely on, but Ryan has not turned out anywhere near as powerful as your daughter.”

Your jaw tightens as you tilt your head, fear breaking through the rage and numbness that has begun to build beneath everything else.

"What did you just say?"

"It took us years to find her, but as soon as I saw her at the art show ten years ago I knew. She's the spitting image of Ben. So we put things in motion."

"What things?" You snarl, tightening your grip on his chest so tightly that you hear the cracking of his ribs.

"Her ability to keep powers for 24 hours is unmatched. She’s almost indestructible. Almost as indestructible as you. She was so helpful in our development of our Temp V.” He exhales in one breath sharply, wincing in pain.

"What?" Shock grips you tight, holding you in place.

They used Rosemary for that? For the shit that Hughie and Butcher shoot up?

"The scientists at Vought couldn't figure out a way to temporarily give someone powers." Stan gasps. "But her blood was just what we needed to understand it."

"You took her blood?" You roar, the furniture in the room flipping back towards the door, crashing against the walls.

"She gave it to us. When I approached her she was adamant about not telling you. You were so against being a hero again and having her do anything connected to Vought.” He smiles around the holes in his mouth. "She agreed to help us if it meant leaving you alone. But-" Stan swallows again, gasping out another breath that sounds like a wheeze. "We were always watching. Always have been watching. There is no where you can escape us, no where you can go to get away from us. You think you're free?" Blood trickles over his dark lips and down his chin, but he continues to smile. "You never will be. And when your granddaughter finally develops her powers, she won't be either. Vought is already prepared for her, nothing can stop it."

Your face hardens at his mention of Lou, anger flaring deep in your soul, rational part of your mind no longer in control. There was no semblance of the control you were so proud of left.

You didn't know who you were anymore. All you knew was that this man had taken something from you, stripped you of what you were so long ago, and he would pay. Because you'd be damned if he was going to take Lou away too. If he really had already gotten to Rosemary, you'd failed her, but you wouldn't fail Lou.

You take in a breath, but the cold numbness is quickly coming to pick away at the heat of your rage, filling your chest cavity. "You've always been a snake, slithering your way to the top, choking the other people who challenged you, slimy, pathetic. You were afraid of Ben all those years. Cowered in the fucking shadows from his rage, afraid to speak, afraid that he would be your end. You were wrong Stan. You should have feared me instead. Because I am the end of you."

"Y/n please-"

But his next words are lost in the blood curdling scream that rips from his throat as his body begins to cave in on itself, the snapping of bone and the smell of blood filling the room as his limbs flatten and shrink into his body, ribcage caves in to his torso, his head crunching down into his neck until the thing that was Stan Edgar is nothing more than a soccer ball sized lump of flesh and ground bone, dropping to the ground with a sickening wet thud.

The flames lick at the walls behind you, steadily curving around the room as you stand there. Stan's blood is soaked into your hair, dripping down your cheeks, but the heady copper smell is obscured by the smoke that floods the room.

Despite it all you can't hear the sound of the flames, can't hear the sounds of the city below, can't feel the heat of the fire, can't feel the stickiness of the blood as it coats your cheeks. There's a buzzing your ears, that comes after Stan's death. An uncontrollable shudder shakes your body as you stand there in the ruined room, the cold feeling unfurling from the center of your chest like the petals of a flower. You can't feel anything, not rage, not shame, and definitely not remorse.

Because everything you know is a lie, everything you knew about Homelander, and now everything you knew about Rosemary. And if she hid that from you, what else had she lied about?

************************************************************************

A/N: I did try to warn y'all. This chapter was a lot, and completely out of my comfort zone and I really miss writing the happy fluff 😭. But this chapter had to be done. And honestly… the reader's Homelander is showing. Somethings I think he may have inherited even though he was kept apart from her.

If you'd like to read something a little happier please try my series:

Take A Chance On Me

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@libby99hb @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline @impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #stan edgar #soldier boy fic #homelander #the boys tv

230 notes · View notes

hwabang · 1 year

Text

When the First Love Returns - Sim Jaeyun

Summary: After Jake starts giving all of his attention to his first love from high school, you start to pull away leaving the boy absolutely miserable.

Genre: angst + fluff ending

Warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, jealous reader, mentions of breaking up, mentions of insecurity, jake is kinda clueless in the beginning, ig you could say this is set a couple years in the future? in the sense that jake is close to proposing to y/n

Author’s Note: jake is not one of my three biases so tell me why i have two works for him before ANYTHING about heejay😭 (jungwon stans are eating well tho yw)

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

NOTICE: (the names used for side characters are fake names, with the exception of the enhypen members. the fake names don't represent any real life characters.)

(gif not mine!)

You were in the kitchen finishing up the dishwashing when you heard lots of rustling by the front door. Drying your hands you walked out to the main area to see Jake walking into your shared apartment with shopping bags in his hand and the biggest smile you'd seen in a while.

Jake quickly yet gently put the bags down and beckoned you over. Smiling, you walked over and wrapped your arms around his neck. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pecked your lips. "Guess what? My high school friend group is coming to Korea for a vacation!"

You widened your eyes in excitement. "Really? Jake that's great!"

He eagerly nodded, picking up the shopping bags again and walking to the table with you following behind. "I know right! I'm so happy 'cuz I haven't seen them in a while yeah, but we really haven't spoken in forever too. For some of them it's their first time coming to Korea so I can't wait to show them around. I worked around my schedule today so I'll be able to give them enough time."

You nodded along as you took out the takeout from the bags he brought, setting the table for the two of you. "How long will they be here?"

"Two weeks. It feels short for me honestly but it's fine, I'm gonna make the most of it."

"Yeah you definitely should. Invite them for dinner as soon as they get here. I know you probably want to take them out for dinner, but I haven't met them yet and I cook well."

Jake's smile got bigger if it was even possible. He was so happy to hear you suggesting to cook dinner for his friends. If Jake loved anything more than you, it was showing you off. And what better way to do that than bringing his friends into your shared home to see how well you keep it?

He walked up behind you and kissed behind your earlobe. "Thank you baby. I can't wait for you to meet them... Uh, one thing I wanted to talk to you about though."

You turned around to face him, seeing him biting his lip nervously. "What's wrong honey?"

"Well, uh.. they're gonna be here for two weeks so I might not be able to give you all the time that I want to.. so I just wanted to apologize in advance," Jake admitted blushing.

You cooed at the sweet gesture and kissed his cheek. "It's okay honey, I'm fine with that."

– – –

You were definitely not fine with that. Well, not a couple days in.

As soon as Jake's friends landed, they took a taxi to their hotels and after they washed up, they all came straight to yours and Jake's apartment for dinner.

As they walked into the apartment Jake introduced all of them to you; Alex, Cynthia, Taesu, Ben, Leo, and Minji. The 6 of them were so happy to meet you, saying they felt as if they knew you so well just because Jake constantly talked about you.

The dinner went well; you tried to get closer to the girls and the boys went with Jake to have "guy talk" (whatever that is). They were both really nice and genuinely seemed interested in you.

"Hey Y/N, where's the restroom?" Cynthia asked?

"Ah down the hall to the left," you replied. Cynthia quickly excused herself as you turned back to Minji. "So Minji, you said it's been a while since you've been back in Korea right?"

She hummed. "Yeah, I think last time was about 6 years ago? I remember nothing," she laughed.

You responded with a slight laugh as well. "Yeah, a lot has changed in the past couple years I've been living here too."

"Yeah.. you know I'm so happy Jake found you."

You gave her a genuine eye smile, feeling warm from the compliment. "Thank you Minji! That means a lot, really."

The warm feeling was gone as soon as it came when Minji said a sentence that made you halt.

"I mean, from the way he cried when we broke up, I was sure he'd never get over his first love."

You didn't know much from Jake's pre-debut life, having met him well after ENHYPEN debuted. You two also weren't the type to be jealous of previous relationships since you're both really loyal, so you never asked him to tell you all the details about his past relationships.

But the girl who was his first love being in your shared apartment right now? Left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Did you not know?" Minji asked when you were quiet. "He didn't tell you?"

"No I–"

"I'm back!" Cynthia said. You were relieved, thinking Minji wouldn't bring up the topic in front of Cynthia but boy were you wrong.

"Cyn!" Minji called out. "Y/N didn't know Jake and I were a couple!"

Cynthia eyed her friend as she sat in her chair. "I mean.. that was so long ago and she's been dating Jake for the last 3 years so.. I don't think it matters anyways."

Minji was clearly taken aback but quickly shook her head. "No no no, it's weird isn't it? How could he not tell his girlfriend about his first love?"

"Maybe because he's over it?" Cynthia said matter of factly. "And you should be too." She gave a stern look to her friend and turned back to you giving you a sweet smile. "Sorry.. anyways, back to the Hello Kitty Cafe!"

After his friends had left for the night, you were contemplating asking Jake about it. It didn't really matter because again, you were in a 3 year long relationship with Jake and you guys were really committed to each other. You don't have to ask him right? Right, let's just not ruin his mood.

But Jake noticed. Jake notices everything when it comes to you; he blatantly admits his life revolves around you and that that's a 100% his choice. So after you guys got ready for bed and laid down to cuddle, Jake decided to ask you.

"I'm fine, what are you talking about?"

He squinted his eyes in disbelief. "Nah baby, you know better than to lie to me. I can see right through you," he said booping your nose. "Now tell me, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"No it's just.. I didn't know your first love would be coming here."

Jake looked at you confused for a bit for a light bulb lit up in his head. "Oh! Minji?" You pouted, making Jake laugh. "Baby, she's just part of the friend group. I don't really talk to the girls in a private setting. Well, sometimes I talk to Cynthia privately, like rarely, but I haven't talked to Minji privately since I moved to Korea."

You nodded. "No I know.. I'm not upset she's your friend necessarily but it would've been nice to know your first love was coming to our apartment."

"I understand... I'm sorry. I should've mentioned it but to be honest I'm pretty much forgetting our previous relationship, which is why I didn't really think about it. But don't worry, that relationship from high school will never effect our current relationship."

You believed Jake; of course you did. Jake had shown you nothing but pure raw love the last 3 years of your relationship. You two were also talking about marriage a lot recently, so you had no reason to doubt Jake's love and loyalty towards you.

But that doesn't stop the gut wrenching feeling you started getting real soon.

Jake had already told you he'd be spending time with his friends a lot these next two weeks. You were completely fine with this but it started irking you when he was going to hang out with just Minji.

"Babe, Minji lost her luggage and needs a ride to the airport, I'll be back soon."

"Hey love Minji asked me to drop her off at her grandmother's. It's kind of far so I'll be like 2-3 hours."

"Minji is really sick so I'm gonna drop her off at the hospital."

"Minji asked me to pick up meds for her."

"Minji wants to go to a cafe."

"Minji is visiting a friend but asked me to pick her up since it'll be really late by the time she's done."

Minji this, Minji that, almost everything coming out of Jake's mouth recently was about Minji.

You were already annoyed but even more so when you found out Minji changed her hotel room to a solo room from sharing one with Cynthia.

"She's my friend," Cynthia said on the phone. "and I love her to death. But girl has a hard time letting things go. She talks about Jake a lot to our college friends which is weird because they don't even talk?? I don't know Y/N, I don't wanna rat my friend out but I do care about yours and Jake's relationship and I would hate if my friend ruined that. Jake's a little clueless as you know so just mention to him that it's bothering you yeah? He'll stop I'm sure."

But you couldn't. It was so embarrassing for you to even think about admitting to Jake you didn't like him being with Minji so much. You weren't usually jealous, you weren't ever controlling, so this whole feeling was so new to you and you hated it. You knew Cynthia was right; if you mentioned that him being with Minji bothered you even the slightest, Jake would stop right away. But it's just two weeks, you can handle it right?

Wrong.

The two weeks passed by in a breeze. Most of the times Jake saw Minji was in a group setting when everyone hung out together and you were always invited. The group hang outs were always a blast with no drama. Jake was always sitting next to you and one of his male friends. Cynthia would make sure every time Minji was next to her and not near Jake at all. But even if she was, you don't think it would matter much; as mentioned before, Jake was obsessed with you, absolutely infatuated with you. He constantly had a hand around your shoulder when sitting or waist and continuously would kiss cheek forehead or lips. He'd feed you, move your hair from your face, call you pretty in the middle of conversation. This man had absolutely zero shame showing PDA in front of his friends which silently consulted you.

But the hardest part was when you two would get back to your apartment, and not even an hour later Minji would hit Jake up for a favor or just because she was feeling down and needed a friend. Even though she had 5 other friends in the same hotel floor as her...

So the two weeks passed and you were feeling a bittersweet feeling. You actually really enjoyed the company of Jake's friends, especially Cynthia's, so you were sad since you'd miss them. But you were also reassured knowing Minji would be leaving.

But she wasn't. The day they were leaving she abruptly announced she extended her ticket another MONTH, something about not wanting to waste her summer break in Australia when she was enjoying Korea so much.

Annoying, yes. But you know what was even MORE annoying? Infuriating, even?

"Hey baby.. uh, Minji is asking if she can stay with us for the rest of her trip."

You momentarily halted but quickly caught yourself and continued typing on your computer. "Oh, yeah that's fine."

How could you say no? What was your reason? Your first love is flirting with you clearly and you're fucking clueless so no?? You didn't wanna be that girlfriend.

Jake came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your sitting form. "Are you sure baby? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.. I can tell that you've been a little bothered ever since you found out I dated her."

You felt guilty. You tried so hard to hide it but turns out you weren't that good at it. You turned in your seat and smiled up at him. "Jake, it's okay. I would feel bad having your friend stay at a hotel for a month when we have a perfect place to accommodate guests."

jake kissed you passionately, loving how kind and caring you were. "Thank you angel, you're truly the best thing to ever happen to me."

No matter how many sweet words or loving touches he gave you, you were still letting the voices in your head get to you. Minji was now staying with you, but you were noticing things that irked you.

You know, the things that a girl does that another girl would notice and know her motive but guys would be absolutely clueless about?

It started with what she did the last two weeks; constantly needing Jake to take her somewhere or do something for her which coincidentally (not, the bitch knew what she was doing) aligned with your work schedule so you couldn't ever join them. But then it got weird for both you and Jake.

One night before bed Minji asked you if she could make breakfast for the three of you the next morning and you happily agreed, happy you could sleep in the next morning. So you did, waking up with Jake wrapped around you as usual. You quickly got dressed in his t-shirt and some shorts and headed down to see if Minji needed help but were shocked when you walked into the kitchen.

There she was cooking in a cropped tank top and really revealing sleep shorts. You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, slightly annoyed that she was walking around your place like this but like the mature person you are, let it go and helped her by setting the table.

Jake was calling for you as he woke up and you yelled out saying you're in the kitchen. He walked in and halted as his eyes landed on Minji. "Baby I thought we were gonna sleep in– oh, uh, h-hey Minji."

You glared hard at Jake, hating how he blushed as he immediately looked to the floor.

His eyes quickly landed on you and his eyes widened, realizing how that looked to you. "No wait babe I–"

"Grab the orange juice from the fridge please. Minji's done cooking."

He reached out to you but you moved out of his way and took the dishes that were done to the dining table. Jake felt dejected but he followed your orders and sat down after getting the juice and glasses.

You started conversing more with Minji during the breakfast, basically ignoring Jake who had a permanent pout on his face. You were being petty, yes, but you needed to get a little revenge.

But Minji wasn't making it easy for you.

"How's the food Jake?" she asked. "What do you like the most?"

"Huh? O-oh uh, yeah it's good. The banana bread is really good."

She squealed and clapped. "I knew it! Do you not remember? This is the banana bread I used to make for you when we were dating!"

Both you and Jake paused. He was clearly flustered and looked to you for a reaction but you were looking at your food and enjoying it. "Uh I-I don't remember sorry."

"Really Jake? I made it for you all the time! When you first told me you loved me, when we celebrated our one year, when we first slept togeth–"

Jake started violently coughing and you just pushed the water jug towards him, not bothering to pour him some. He looked at you shocked as he continued hacking. Immediately Minji got up and gave him water, rubbing his back while subtly pushing her breasts in his face. He noticed and backed up but she continued getting closer.

Having had enough, you stood up with force from your chair and gave them a petty smile. "I'm done. Thanks for the food Minji it was great! I'm gonna go now, I have plans."

"Wait where are you going?" Jake asked. "I thought we could hang out today since you're off."

"I have plans with Jay."

"Wait what wait why?? Alone? You don't hang out with Jay alone??"

You shrugged as you grabbed your plate and glass to go wash. "Well there's a first for everything."

Jake shook his head. "We'll come with you guys. Jay will get along with Minji I'm sure."

She tugged at his hoodie sleeve, fucking bitch. "Jakey! We have plans to go to Lotte today remember?"

You scoffed at the nickname. "You two go to Lotte. I wanna hang out with Jay alone anyways."

You missed the dejected look on Jake's face. "O-okay.. Take my card."

"It's good Jay actually offered to take me out for the day, but I have my card just incase."

Now that you knew would irk Jake to the max. Jake NEVER let you spend your own money let alone let another man spend money on you so he always always gave you his card. You denying to take his card definitely sparked some anger in him.

You quickly left after that, not wanting to stay there with them any longer. This was the first time you left the two alone in your apartment but you had utmost trust in Jake so you knew nothing would happen.

That night you came home later than expected; not too late but 9pm. Honestly you have no idea how the day passed. You were closest with Jay in ENHYPEN after Jake so anytime you two talked it was for hours and hours.

As you walked into the house it was quiet. You thought maybe they weren't back yet but then you heard muffled voices in the basement.

After putting your things away you walked down to see Jake sitting on the couch with his head in his hands and Minji sitting next to him rubbing his back. You stayed behind the door, wanting to hear the conversation.

"I just don't.. get it.." Jake said sadly. "Anytime we go out without each other.. we always text and call the other letting them know we're okay."

Ah fuck, you thought. By any means you didn't mean to not text or call Jake, knowing fully well this is a rule between you two. You completely forgot to charge your phone last night, and by the time you had met up with Jay your phone was dead.

Minji hummed. "Maybe she's just having a lot of fun? I'm sure it's nothing."

"But still.. h-how can she not answer my calls? I know, I know I haven't been the best boyfriend recently but.."

"Jakey.. what if she just doesn't love you anymore?"

No. There was no way she just put that into Jake's head.

He snapped his head towards her. "What are you saying Minji.. I–I'm not in the mood for jokes right now."

"I'm not joking! You know I've been noticing she's been kinda distant from you recently. I thought you two fought but if you're also confused then it might just be her."

"Minji, you don't know anything about Y/N and I. We have a love that's hard to find anywhere else.. respectfully you don't know what you're talking about."

"But I do! Girls notice these things. Trust me, something's off."

"Thanks Minji, but I'm done with this conversation." He tried standing up but she pulled him back down even closer to her.

"Jake why can't you see clearly?! Why can't you take a hint?! I've been here for over a month just because of you! I came back to Korea for you! I never got over you, how could you easily forget me! I still love you, and if she can't give you that, be with me!"

Jake snatched his hand away from her and stood up. "Minji you're crossing the limit. You came here to win me back knowing I'm proposing to Y/N soon? That's really low. She loves me and I love her. Don't get involved." He turned to walk away and saw you standing by the doorframe and his eyes widened. "Y-Y/N.."

You gave him a sad smile. "I was coming in to ask if you guys had fun.. seems like you did."

Jake shook his head as he walked towards you. "How much did you hear?

"Everything I needed to. I didn't talk to Jay today about how distant we've been, didn't think you'd run to your friend about it either."

"Baby I–"

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight Minji."

Being tired from today's emotional events you passed out as soon as you got to bed, not giving Jake a reason to apologize. He knew it was wrong of him to go to his ex about his relationship problems, knowing you were already insecure about her being here. He decided tomorrow would be the day you guys finally talked about it.

Tomorrow came and Jake had dropped Minji off at her grandma's for the day. On the way home he picked up breakfast for you two and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. When he got inside he called you down to eat and as you two started eating the tension was thick.

Jake offered to clean up after the silent breakfast and you hummed, letting him do it on his own. You headed back to your shared room and started putting away clean laundry. Soon Jake came up and sat on the bed as you walked around. "Hey baby.. we should talk."

"I'm listening, go ahead."

Jake sighed. "Baby please," he pleaded. "Just come sit with me for a sec."

Reluctantly you went and sat a good couple inches away from Jake much to his dismay. "Okay, now go ahead."

He sighed before starting to apologize. "Look I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone to her with our private problems. I should've kept it to myself and talked about it when you came home."

You shook your head. "That's not even the biggest thing Jake. The past month and a half you've been spending the most time with Minji. Tell me, when was the last time you and I went to bed at the same time?"

Jake was quiet as he thought back to the last time and he couldn't remember. "I.. I don't.. remember."

"Exactly. I've barely seen my own boyfriend since Minji got here. And I wish I wasn't jealous but I am. And honestly Jake.. after the conversation you had with her yesterday.. I don't know where we stand."

Jake widened his eyes. "Wait, babe hold up. Don't say that, what are you talking about? We're fine, we're good. We talked it out. I'm gonna make my friendship with Minji very clear and we'll get over this."

"Jake it's not as simple as that. I've felt so distant from my boyfriend for the past 6 weeks! The guy who has to constantly be around me all of a sudden wasn't because his first love came back!"

Jake looked hurt. "I don't love her anymore... y-you don't think I do, right? Right Y/N? Say something please."

You ran a hand through your hair. "Jake, listen to me." You looked him right in the eyes hoping your message would be clear. "I love you. I know you love me too. I want to be with you forever, but right now we need to take a step back."

"W-what do you.."

"Jake, I want to take a break."

Jake's eyes widened and he grabbed your hands tightly. "Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"Just for a little bit, we need to be separate. So we can gather our feelings–"

"I know my feelings!" he wailed. Jake had tears in his eyes as he tried to not let them fall. "I love you and only you! We don't need a break, I can't be without you."

You patted his hands. "Just for a little bit.. I'll stay with a friend for about two weeks and we'll come back and try to fix this."

Jake shook his head. "W-we can fix this now. We're talking about it, we'll fix this now." Jake let the tears fall and he engulfed you in a hug. "Please Y/N, please.. d-don't go.. d-don't leave.."

You let him sob as you silently cried, holding him tight as a way to calm him down. "Okay.. okay.. calm down... we won't take a break okay? Hmm? We won't."

He let go of the hug and looked at you with wide glossy eyes and a pout. "P-promise me.. when I come back from picking Minji up, promise me I won't see your things gone."

You shook your head. "No no, I'll come with you to pick her up. And we'll go out and enjoy a nice dinner with her.. and when she leaves tomorrow, you and I will sit and talk every single thing through okay?"

Jake nodded and sniffled. "I'm so sorry. I really should've taken your feelings into consideration.. I guess I just felt a sense of responsibility to do things for her since I'm the only person who can do anything for her here since I've got the car and stuff.. not a good excuse I know. But still, it's the truth. And I'm really fucking sorry."

You accepted his apology with a kiss on his lips. "It's okay Jake.. I forgive you. I love you so much."

"I love you too wifey."

– – – –

honestly this isn't good but i'm posting it anyways :')

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun

247 notes · View notes

my-names-angel-but-im-not-one · 2 years

Text

Replaced or not?

Part-1 Part-2

Based on my mc!!

⚠️ Note ⚠️:

Not a replaced au!Obey me au!

Also belphie wasn't locked in the attic!!

We don't have pacts with brothers this all is new!!

Summary: Here not only you but one more candidate was called as two human was required to compare and diavolo didn't considered Solomon as a human.

You

Her . The girl you hate ,the fucking I'm cute , pretty n good at everything , from your school "run-hai".

Pairing: obey me characters x Mc!

"Run hai let's go play this game!!"

"run hai would u like to try this nail paint i got from mojolish!!"

"Run hai why don't u came and sleep with me instead or go to hells kitchen"

Run hai this Run hai that, Run hai , Run hai Run hai

' They're all so fucking entranced by her , just because of her looks AUGH I Fucking Hate this' you thought .

Run hai was another candidate that was bought to devildom to survive . Everyone thought of her as a cute rabbit trying to survive. But you knew her true colors. She was from the same school as you after all. She was the girl who'd put even her bff at the alter just to get boys after her . She'd act all shy and tiny but you know her better.

Run hai was not a rabbit but a bug that'll go into your brain and eat it inside out .

Run hai was pretty no doubt . With a baby face , long brown wavy hair, light brown pretty eyes pink cheeks , pretty pink lips and more than average boobs and ass. Some may call her an angel.

Whereas you , you were not so eye catching, sure you were pretty too some may even call you gorgeous but only if they look hard and clear.

Short black hair almost about above your ears, black eyes, pale color, and thin but pink lips. You were skinny, so much that one would think that your malnutritious , but you do have a hourglass shape though. And in contrast to Run hai's small and petite curvy body , your's were tall and less curvy giving you a rather mature look.

([A/N]: i have described in detailed because it's my mc )

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

You sighed thinking that how these bunch of demons are so easily getting tricked by a mere human .

They didn't ignored you , no ( that only made it hard for you to leave them on their own) they treated you okay but they do prefer her over you.

The only person who supported you more and absolutely tried their best stay away from her was Diavolo , Barbatos 'barbatos said it was a time thingy thing'

Simeon, luke as they're angels so know when they see an evil soul, and Solomon he said "it takes one to know one". Well according to Solomon she's super shady to which you agreed .

Satan also have his assumptions about her as to he can sense emotions very clear and he had seen Simeon flinched whenever she's near. What can a human do to make an angel flinch??

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

You were getting tired of their lovey dovey time so you slammed your book shut as loudly as you can and went upstairs.

"What's up with her ?" Asmo said .

"Maybe she's tired of you all neglecting her" satan said angry at everyone , you were the only one who saw him for him . He knew that run hai was a bad person whe she said "you're just like Lucifer so nice~"

"We're not neglecting her we all talk to her on daily basis" Levi said irritated.

"Yeah only when you have to wait in a line so you just ask her to be their , and Lucifer just talks to her about her grades , asmo only acknowledges her when he want her to model for his dresses , mammon continuosly ask for Grimm , beel just asks her for food, and belphie, let's not forget you hate humans , you think she's a pest!!!"

Satan bursted out and all the brothers started feeling bad and guilty....Run hai saw this and tried to get their attention back "uhh or maybe she's just overreacting , she'll be alright!!" she said but no one listen . She Failed in trying to get their attention but do succeed in making Lucifer suspicious of her .

'Something's wrong with her' (yeah GOOD MORNING Lucifer).

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

Satan reached your room and knocked

"you know you're allowed with knocking"

"how'd you know?"

"you always knock 4 times and in a rhythm"

".......sharp..."

"yeah cause you basically forced me to watch those detective movies with you"

He sat behind you watching your frown adorned face. "Don't worry about them they are idiots" you replied with a "i know....but still we can't just leave them to be a prey" " they're demons MC they won't be hurt ......at least not that bad" "hey!" . You then started to reason with him " You know she's not a good person" "i do....but stop worrying 'bout those who take you for granted "

"hmm....maybe you're right, I've my pride too yk!!"

"ehh don't say pride please..."

"ok huehuehue"

"what kind of laugh is that" satan laughed at your funny laughing style.

"it's called cat laugh!!"

"......wtf!!"

You both laughed a full bloom laugh , like kids in a playground. While Mammon was standing outside your door....,who heard all that......

To be continued.....

[A/N]: This is based on my dream i dreamt that i was summoned to obey me's world but the pick me bitch of my school was also there so i created it !! Hope you liked it!!

Also Run hai is pronounced as "Roon haaye"

Thanks for reading!!

820 notes · View notes

muddyorbsblr · 2 years

Text

i have never

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: When you reveal to your co-stars that you've never had a positive experience kissing anyone, let alone a good experience doing more than kissing, Tom visits you in your hotel room to rectify that situation.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: steamy moments (this is 1 of the 2 non-smut stories from this collection); language; mention of bleeding

Things to be aware of: coworkers to lovers; reader isn't inexperienced but she's had horrendous experience

"Okay I might need help with this, I gotta be honest."

You showed the page that you placed a little pink post-it flag on to your female co-stars, Scarlett and Lizzie, the flag pointing to the part of the script that showed your character had to kiss Loki and a look of 'contentment and relief' had to be visible on your face.

"Wait why? You've had kissing scenes before," Lizzie prodded, looking at the surrounding dialogue of the kiss.

"Yeah, I know, but those kisses were meant to be awkward and I had to be visibly uncomfortable, which is great because that's all I know how to be when a guy kisses me." You grimaced as memories of sloppy, teeth-knocking, way too rough kisses gone wrong began to flash through your mind like a train wreck slideshow.

"Oh sweetie…if you're worried that it's gonna be bad because Tom's going to make it uncomfortable, you got nothing to worry about," Scarlett commented with a chuckle. "Man's never had a bad kiss scene in his life. Ask Lizzie."

"Mmhmm. Yup. Can confirm," the redhead said with a playful grin on her face.

"Well that's all well and good but I'm not worried about him giving me a bad kiss. I'm worried that I will." You slumped your shoulders as they gave you doubtful looks. "Alright then let me put it this way. All the kisses I've had off camera are…fucking awful. On camera I can look past because it's supposed to be awkward and dorky and maybe even so cringe I wouldn't wanna watch it even if you paid me. But the guys I've kissed in private? Let's just say that the least traumatizing kiss I've had ended with my lip bleeding because the fucker bit me too hard."

"Babes, that's absolutely awful!" Lizzie looked at you with her jaw to the floor. "Are you telling us that every guy you've slept with is—"

"Fucking awful? Yep. They didn't have any redeeming qualities. And before you even ask, yes, that means that I have fucking faked it. For years. No one's ever got me to the promised land." You slumped in your chair from the admission. "So that's why I need help. I haven't the first idea how to even look like I'm content because every experience I've ever had is…subpar."

The two promised to help you until you three were called to set, imparting knowledge about imagining a wave of calm overtaking you coupled with the contradicting feeling of a wild fluttering in your stomach. Actions-wise, to pull him closer, as if you couldn't possibly be close enough, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. And the desperation that implied this was a last kiss, because ultimately it would be for your characters, considering the tragic death the Russo brothers had in mind for Loki.

It'd also be the first and last kiss you'd have with the man you'd had a raging crush on since years before you were even a blip on Marvel's radar, so you took all their advice to heart just to make sure that at the very least you didn't leave a horrible impression with him once this scene was over.

After all, you still had all of promo period to get through and considering that the Marketing team had already found your old socials from high school and had concrete evidence that you absolutely had a phase where you shamelessly fangirled over Tom Hiddleston, they would most likely test your sanity and pair you off with him for some, if not most, of the press junkets.

That was the whole reason you were currently in one of the dining tents, your head slumped down on a table as you watched a whole bunch of kissing scenes on YouTube while you furiously jotted down notes on the back of your script. Your scenes were finished for the day, and all you had to do was wait for someone in the costume department to assist you out of your costume. You retrieved your phone from security, meaning you were no longer allowed on any of the filming sets considering how careful all the execs were about spoilers getting out.

"Elizabeth told me I'd likely find you here." You jumped in your seat at the dulcet tone of Tom's voice filling the former quiet of the tent, quickly straightening your posture and turning your phone off, putting the face down on top of your notes. "Apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's all good, really," you chuckled out, the nerves beginning to peek through in your shaky tone. It was borderline impossible keeping your composure around him considering that he'd been in a tight-fitting black muscle tee, the rest of him clad in his character's leather pants and boots, putting on egregious display what exactly Marvel had to edit out during post production of the first Thor movie. "What's up?" you squeaked out.

"Truly, nothing. I just wanted to tell you I look forward to filming with you tomorrow." He placed a hand on your shoulder, bared by the rather revealing nature of your Enchantress costume, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I'll see you tomorrow, darling. I'll see if I can get someone to assist you with your costume."

Your heart caught in your throat as you watched his eyes give you a once over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, before leaving the tent.

Here lies Y/N Y/L/N. Cause of death? Sanity and ability to breathe were stolen by Thomas William Hiddleston.

Knock Knock Knock

You looked up from your position on the couch, your neck and back straining from being hunched over and taking notes as you watched compilation after compilation of the "best tv and movie kisses" on YouTube. Every bit of preparation you could do for tomorrow's scene short of trolling through Tinder or Raya, you would willingly do.

After all, if you looked stupid in your hotel room practicing how to kiss on your hand but no one else was around to see it, did you actually look stupid?

Yes. The answer was yes.

"I didn't order room service!" you called out in the direction of the door and sending the mistaken server on his way, turning back to face the TV and somehow transpose in your mind that the actors in the scene were you and Tom, trying to plan out how to move your body the way theirs moved, to not lean in too much so that your teeth didn't knock together, and to not even think about any lip biting considering your own dreadful history--

Knock Knock Knock

You groaned at the insistent mistaken case of room service and turned off the TV, flipping your notes over so that in case they were of the nosy variety nothing could leak. The last thing you needed throughout production was Holland and Ruffalo greeting you tomorrow morning with open arms and goofy grins saying "One of us! One of us!"

"I'm sure you're mistaken, buddy, I didn't order any--"

You opened the door and realized it wasn't room service on the other side. It was Tom, looking at you with a soft amusement in his eyes, the mortification spreading through your system at the knowledge that he was seeing you clad in a loose cotton ruffle sleepwear dress that went down the length of your arms and fell to your knees.

The farthest cry from the allure of Amora. And yet the best possible representation of yourself in real life.

"O-Oh uhh…hi," you stammered, constantly shifting your posture in your attempt to seem casual. "What's up?"

You felt even more chagrined when those eyes that haunted your every dream since you were a teenager that was every bit the awkward dork that you were at this moment once again gave you a once over. Only this time the smirk graduated to him biting his lip. What is his deal? Is he really just trying to make me spontaneously combust? Burn off the final shred of sanity that I'm holding on to? Did he choose me as his use case for a scientific study to prove that death by swooning was most definitively a thing?

"Y/N I heard you earlier today with Scarlett and Elizabeth." Someone call the cemetery and have them erect my tombstone. "I didn't intend to, but I'd been walking by the area and--"

"Ohh fuck," you groaned, pressing your hands to your eyes and spinning in your spot trying calm your racing mind. "Look I'm really sorry maybe we could talk to Anthony and Joe and we could have them write the scene out comp--"

Your words caught in your throat in a hitched squeak as you felt his hands wrap around yours, pulling them away from your face. "Look at me, please." You opened your eyes and became stunned silent when you saw a tenderness in his as he framed your face in his hands. "I'm not here to ask you to talk to anyone about getting the scene written out."

"Then why--"

He silenced you by pressing his lips to yours, all the words beginning to melt away. What little knowledge you'd gotten seemed trivial now, as he coaxed you to kiss him back, as the world around you seemed to fade and a strange quiet washed over you. As you felt your entire body come alive with every tender brush of his lips against yours.

So this was what they meant.

He pulled away from you, one arm wrapped securely around your waist to keep you close, and the other hand gently cradling the back of your head. "I came here because you are a woman who deserves to be kissed breathless. Often. By someone who knows how." He gave you a soft smile before slanting his mouth over yours, tongue gently brushing along the parting of your lips as if asking for entrance.

It was as if your whole body weakened once you parted your lips and felt his tongue gently flicking against yours. His arm tightened around you as he lifted you up seemingly effortlessly and pinned you to the wall, his lips never once leaving yours.

When Tom broke the kiss you were both gasping for breath, the air once again leaving your body the moment his lips latched on to your neck, his hands roaming down your body until they hooked around the backs of your knees to wrap your legs around him. You had to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the resounding moan that escaped you the second his hips rolled into yours.

"No, darling," he groaned against your skin, one hand reaching up to wrap around yours and pry it away from your mouth. "I want to hear you." He moved away from your neck and brought his face inches from yours. "I also heard one more thing. A downright sacrilegious thing. About how you've had to fake your pleasure with everyone you've laid with."

He placed your hand on his shoulder, which you quickly hooked around his neck to hold yourself up as he lifted you away from the wall and walked further into the hotel room, making your mind spin with what he intended to do next. "So you heard that, too, huh?" was all you could say as you did your best to remember how to breathe.

"I did. And I wish to change that, too. If you'll let me."

You could only nod before his lips were back on yours again as he laid you down onto the bed.

A/N: I had to fade to black some of these stories if I wanted to meet deadlines, okay? 🤣

'everything' taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @unlucky-number-13 @ozymdias @maple-seed @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfsmom1 @km-ffluv @psychospore @loopsisloops @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovelysizzlingbluebird

#14 days of valentines collection #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

291 notes · View notes

luvv4j4ybe11 · 9 months

Note

Felt the need to come have a wee chat to you in your inbox 🩷 wondered if you had any advice for me as I'm trying to start writing for the avatar fandom here and there? Ive already done a couple of pieces but 🤷 any advice would be greatly appreciated 🙏 also constructive criticism if you happen to take a look at what I've done (tho you absolutely do not have to ofccc) Ty babes have the loveliest day/night

I would say the best thing to do is read other people’s pieces so you have more info for your fic, and then just start writing! Just let everything flow together. And if you get stuck with something I’m always happy to help. Because when I posted my first fic I was anxious asfff but I asked my some of my mutuals to give me advice and proofread it and that’s exactly what they did! So I’m glad you reached out to me of all people like🥹 you’re the sweetest frl🩷🩷

Here are some more of my tips bc I didn’t say a lot in this ⬆️:

- when you read other people’s fics, make sure it’s the same topic as yours (so like smut,fluff, angst)

- try to avoid usin the word “said” or “says”, I usually will look up other words on safari or Pinterest bc they always help me out. But also it’s not the end of the world if you do use them, just don’t make it a habit ofc.

- make sure you put warnings, a summary(if you want), and translation(if you want), but warnings are the most important! Just to make sure people know wtf they ab to read😭

- in your fics make sure to talk about their tails and ears, bc i always do that since i like the visual it gives (especially if you’re writing a smutty story 😩)

- add periods and comas in the right places. And I know that seems obvious but I always forget to do it, even after I’ve proofread 3 times😭

- and adding to this ⬆️ when the character your writing for calls reader a pet name or vise versa, always put a coma before or after the pet name, depending on what your writing. So like: “what’s up, baby?” Or “mama, come here.”

- when you write dialogue, putting an action before the talking is what I like to do best. Idk why but it just flows better for me and I just like it. So for example:

“You brushed the two braids that hung infront of his face behind his ear. Catching his attention quickly as he looked at you with pretty amber eyes filled with confusion, brows furrowed together. “Come on, yawntu, I wanna show you something.” You purr before grabbing his hand and tugging him up, both of you racing to the forest together.”

- don’t forget capitals and punctuation! I do that a lot in my fics, that’s why proofreading is so important.

- adding to this ⬆️ tho, PROOFREADDD!! It’ll save you from embarrassment I promise 😭 I’ll always catch a word I spelled wrong or I’ll add something in or take something out and just fix my fic to my liking. But even if you don’t that’s fine!! People on this side of tumblr are always here to help with little mistakes made in your fics or they’ll just ignore it and fill it in mentally, bc we all know what you’re tryna say.

- also when you’re trying to focus on a character’s emotions, try to describe it with their speech and expressions. Example:

With expressions: “You threw your things down and sat on the bed with a huff. Brows knit tightly together and lips curled up in anger.”

With speech:“Leave me alone, *name*! I don’t wanna talk right now!” You shout at your mate, guilt slowly pooling into your stomach when you see his ears pin to his head, tail swaying behind him sadly. Causing your expression to soften as you walk over to him.”

- use italics,colors, and bold to make the story more interesting and dramatic. (A personal favorite of mine)

Example:

“He picks you up swiftly, saying a quick goodbye to his friends before storming to your shared hut. “You just love making me mad, don’t you, babygirl?” He growls, the anger radiating off of him making you stay silent. “Answer me.” He says sternly as he slaps your thigh. Hard. “Y..yes..” tone barely above a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to pick up on. Making a pleased smirk appear on his face before he opens the flaps to your hut.”

- the most important of all is to have fun!! Don’t overthink anythin and js let everything flow naturally. You got this baby<33

Here are some of the people whose fics I’ve read and learned from! I hope they help you out as much as they did for me🩷: @pandorxxx @pandorxxx @plooto @sweethoneycn @tiredmamaissy @teyamsatan @tallulah477 @tiyawnyana @teymars @hotdsworld @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @neteyamswillow @neteyamkink @neteyamsyawntu @atxxokirina @sulieykte @wheneclipsefalls @eyweveng @zafrinaxyz @inlovewithpandora @iseeyou-neteyam

I hope this helped you out! And my dms are open if you need any more help from me<33

#avatar #luvv4j4ybe11 #atwow #avatar the way of water #❣︎ꕥ𝒋𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔ꕥ❣︎#avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #writing help #writing #new to writing #advice

44 notes · View notes

elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

i've had no love like your love

summary: both you and professor presley would like to forget about the incident between you two and you do while still occasionally falling into each other's arms when spending time with one another. the two of you finally reach a breaking point. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader word count: 9487. i got a little carried away. warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. implied praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone are of legal age ). religious talk. elvis being ill enough to miss class. unrequited love that would be requited if people just opened up their mouths. oral ( f receiving ). use of psalms in inappropriate ways. bunch of tears. mention of physical abuse/hitting/being kicked out of houses. use of the nickname belle for the reader. use of the derogatory name jezebel. mentions and beginning of impersonal sex like in my hearts already sinned. thigh riding. author's note: so i'll warn you ahead of time you've got to get through a lot of words of sadness to get to their happiness in this but it's worth it. i'm honestly super glad this got the reception it did since when i posted the little teaser/trailer as my last kinktober piece i thought this was hella niche and didn't think anyone would like it since it's big daddy elvis and it's a professor au. but y'all have seemed to absolutely adore it and it makes me happy. this is not the end of them since i've got an epilogue ( purely happy, i promise ) and honestly, if anyone ever wants me to write more of them ( case in point, the ask i got about a movie night with him and belle ) or i have an urge to i probably will. and y'all know the drill, pick your elvis poison, this is written with real elvis in mind but you can imagine austin elvis. and previous parts are here to be read in order: 1 and 2.

There's one thought- or a series of thoughts- his mind keeps cycling back to, that keeps rolling over and over in his head as he looks at the door you just left out of. Gossip isn't something he normally cares about but when he heard your name, he couldn't help but listen in properly because when it came to you he couldn't help it, he never has been able to help it.

"She's going for Presley? That religious- he won't give her the time of day like that. She's too impure for him."

"I've heard that's why she wants him because come on man, you know he never has gone for a student. Why not have the Tour Guide show him what he's been missing? Besides she's already spending all that time in his office and wearing his jacket half the time. Bet she's gonna fuck him before Thanksgiving break. Then she'll be free."

"Two in one semester-" The calculus professor whistles. "Next semester she'll be begging for an orgy at this rate."

He's not dumb, contrary to what his teachers back in the day might have thought. No, he's not dumb but sometimes he prefers to see the best in people, sees the parts that other people might overlook. Maybe it's just from his upbringing or maybe it's from how he was treated in the music industry but he likes to think himself a good judge of the character people might otherwise keep hidden. And with you he had thought- he had thought there was something there. Something you had hidden away amongst your conquests as ill advised as they might have been. You were- you felt like the sort of person who could be taken care of while still taking care of him. You felt like coming home or like God himself had dropped an angel in his lap. The idea that he was just another man- another professor in your long line of them stung. He knows he's not a great catch any more, that he's not nearly as pretty as he was even two years ago, let alone when he used to perform on stage or was in the movie picture business but you didn't seem to mind. You seemed to enjoy him, unless he had read everything wrong, had read your lingering glances wrong. Unless he had read your reactions to his very presence wrong or how you would smile just so in a way he recognizes from some women.

If he hadn't have read this situation wrong and you had actually enjoyed his company and cared about him at least in some small part the way he cared about you, why had you answered yes to his test. Why in God's green Earth had you told him that you just wanted him to be another professor you fucked? The answer should have been that you wanted to fuck him as a person and not just- him because he was your professor. You didn't need to charm him like this- to worm your way so comfortably into his heart in a way Priscilla had and how Linda had as short as their relationship was. It's- you didn't need to play with him like this- you didn't need to be cruel.

Maybe the best thing for both of you would be to pretend none of this happened. Pretend that everything was normal and that he hadn't seen how your pussy looked in underwear that was barely there. Pretend he hadn't seen you arch your back for him. Just pretend he hadn't had you against the desk in a way that was so far from how he planned. That's- that should be what he does. You were still perhaps that good girl, that wonderful woman he thought you were, you just needed to be reminded of it continuously. Maybe he just wants to be selfish and have you in his life in whatever way he can. God, he was getting to be stupid and silly as he got older, wasn't he?

Love makes you do stupid things, you've realized this more than anything with El- Professor Presley. With other men, with other professors your brain and your heart seemed to actually be in line with one another, seemed to remember that these were flings and while their outcomes led so much to be desired you could file them away as business transactions. Business transactions that allowed you to avoid worrying about your grades if you were sick or if you had too much going on at one time. You figure it's your own fault for taking the challenge Noelle had offered you. Figure that you brought this on yourself despite knowing that you had seen the man for years now from afar and thought that he was the most attractive man you've ever laid eyes on. Thought his waistline- much as it occasionally fluctuated was perfect at damn near any size but you had a special place in your heart for his size now. You should have known your heart would believe one thing- would feel one thing while your brain would try and remind you that this- this couldn't ever be more than whatever it was. You hadn't even needed to do it, hadn't needed to take the chance on sleeping with him because you were fine when it came to his class, never missing a class or a discussion or anything that had him lowering your grades. Yet, you had to be selfish, had to ruin the relationship- the friendship you and him had with each other. You had to ruin him as a person, didn't you?

The man who had sex with you against his desk that day wasn't Elvis Presley, Professor Presley, whatever you wanted to call him. He wasn't the person you had fallen so deeply in love with that your heart ached and twisted and threatened to fall right out of your chest at the mere idea of losing him for good. He was something- someone else entirely, someone who you didn't recognize in the slightest but maybe that's who he always had been, maybe that was the man you had fallen completely in love with over the semester. Your brain hadn't bothered to entertain the idea of a life beyond this semester but you think- no, you know- that your heart had other plans. Your heart dreamed of a life with you at his side at Graceland during the summer and on the breaks at night. It dreamed of a life with you in his lap and his head in yours. You just dreamed of a life with him come whatever may be.

That dream is still in your heart as much as your brain knows it's stupid and silly and a forgone conclusion at this point. Yet, you can't stop yourself from still wanting it from pining for the mere idea of it. You can't stop yourself from taking his jacket you still have and wrapping yourself in it after you come home from that day- that absolute mess of an emotional day because that mere idea of a life with him. A life where he comforts you and wraps his arms around you when you find that life is too much or when he finds that life is too much.

Maybe that's why you don't back away, maybe that's why you let yourself continue on debasing yourself in a way that you're practically mortified to realize. Or maybe it's because after that day things go back to normal. He acts like the man you fell for, acts like the man you could see some form of a future with and could dream of living the rest of his days with. Still, you choose to believe that it's worth it, that this is all you're ever going to have of Elvis. God you wish your brain could just call him Professor Presley or Mr. Presley but when you're in his office talking about what had happened in class or the lesson plans he had for the next one he always insists on you calling him Elvis and it feels so natural rolling off your tongue. It feels like it's meant to leave your mouth in sighs as he brings you pleasure and with fondness that you can only have with someone you love to the ends of the Earth.

You should have known better, you should have known better because you might be strong, you might be the sort of person who can hold herself up with or without praise that Elvis sprinkles into your life. You're the sort of person who shouldn't do this, who wouldn't do this for anyone else if it wasn't him. You should break it off, should give yourself a clean break but he's always there and he's right there saying the words you want to hear. He's there acting like he's supposed to and you find you can't even grieve for the loss of him because he's not gone, is he? No, he's right there in front of you, almost mocking you in his actions and how they conflict when you're up against his desk, his cock sliding in and out of you with such obscene squelching and squishing because he knows how to touch you in just the right way that has you groaning against the coolness of the desk. He knows how to touch you in just the right way that has you so aroused you make a mess of whatever you touch. The times you're just on his thigh because he can't get it up- not for lack of want, but because of his body betraying him like everything else seems to- those times always end in him with a suspicious wet spot that makes him glad he's got on black pants to hide the stain you've put there from riding him.

Things feel so impersonal, such a stark contrast to the actions of both of you around the times you do these things. You're adults and yet the concept of talking about what happens- talking about how you two fall into some natural rhythm of companionship only to have it stripped away the moment one of you climbs on top of the other or the moment he pats his thigh for you to straddle- is so alien to either one of you. When you've fooled around with the other professors even when it came to the worst exits you were still able to look at them, still have that element of attachment when you would be with them up until the point where you were kicked out and where you were slapped and yelled at and chased out windows that had you breaking your ankle. With Elvis it should be the same, you want it to be the same because maybe if it was you could- it would be easier for the two of you to talk. It would be easier to not feel like this is a business transaction and that as much as he'll be the man you started to love before and after it, he won't be that man during the act. You'd say you felt used but how can you be used if you're also using him. It's silly and embarrassing and it wears you down after each time even though you always crave it just a little bit because it's all you feel like you can get of him like that. You want more than his companionship, his praise and his subtle touches on your shoulder and his laughter. You want every single bit of him you can have. You're grasping at whatever you feel you can get and you don't realize he's doing much the same thing.

It has to be impersonal because if he looks at you he doesn't trust himself to not fall to your knees and worship you like the angel sent from on high he believes you to be. He calls you Jezebel because that reminds him how you wrenched his heart from his chest and twisted it in your hands. Staying away from you isn't an option because outside of when you two fall into each other's arms you feel like his- feel like third time is truly the charm on women he adores to the ends of the Earth and that you could be the one he spends the rest of his life with- however long that may be.

However long that may be is always on his mind the more his stomach gives him issues or his body feels like it's breaking down more and more. Should try and get everything in check, try and cut out some things maybe but he's never been the most disciplined in anything that isn't religion and even then he knows he falls off that wagon on occasion. He has to miss two more classes and on one of the nights he can't sleep, his stomach contorting in on itself and his bones feeling an ache he can't shake he wishes you were there. Your presence that one night, curled up against him after he had woken up and found you on the couch only to carry you to his bed had been some of the best sleep he'd had in such a long time. You might not have healed all his ills but you served to be a balm he couldn't help but crave on this night.

The thing about him missing is that he can't know- he doesn't know that you notice the second it's Joe up at the front of your class again and you swear you want to throw up. Your stomach drops so far out of your body that it might as well be in the core of the Earth. Elvis wasn't here again which meant something- some part of his body was acting up again. Maybe you shouldn't have been on his thigh after the last class, maybe you should have just let it be one of those times when you just talked and relaxed with one another and not let it turn sexual. No- No, it would have happened regardless, after all, the last time he had missed you and him hadn't even done anything other than talk. That was before- you wouldn't dwell on it, if this was anything like the last time he'd be back come next class a little more worn down and needing perhaps more company and a bit of help but he would be fine. He's always been so larger than life and so strong that there was nothing to worry about.

Except- he doesn't come back after that first class and he misses another one and you had been lulled into a false sense of security thinking he was alright when no one including Joe was there early. No, instead you had Jerry coming in almost five minutes late telling everyone that class was canceled since anyone who would take over for EP was a little occupied and as nice as he's heard everyone was- he's a business professor- an economics one- not a religious studies kind of guy. You don't expect people to be loitering outside of the class, figuring that much like any college students they'd be rushing to the library to study or to their dorms or apartments to sleep. You wish people had done that, wished the two people you come upon would have done that.

"He's gonna be dead in a year if that, man." The student- James you think- says, rolling his eyes. "My brother had him last year and he missed one class, we're on what, our third?"

"Third and the Tour Guide wearing his jacket. Maybe that's why- she's drained him." The other laughs quietly.

"She hasn't worn it since the middle of October, no, she's already moved on. Wouldn't be surprised if he passed her along to his little Mafia." James pauses. "Whatever the case- he's dead next year. If he even gets through the semester. Sucks, man, he wasn't the worst professor."

There's a part of you that wants to hear what they have to say, hear how they want to blame you for Professor- Elvis not being here but you can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears and feel your eyes welling up with tears you can't- you refuse- to shed in front of people and find yourself pushing past them, your boots thumping on floor as both of them laugh just a little realizing you had been listening to them the whole time.

They had to be wrong, they had to be wrong because as sick as maybe Elvis was he wasn't- he couldn't be that sick. No, they were just- joking around, they had to have been. Maybe they knew you were there the whole time and just said it to mock you, after all, you know it's truly no secret that you are his favorite student and were even before- the incident. If they were right though, that meant-that meant after this semester he was gone. You'd never hear a story about how stupid some of your classmates were or about hear him sing like he had that one night again. You'd never share another set of snacks and a drink with him. He'd be gone and you'd be- He'd be gone and the world would feel a little bit dimmer.

The idea of a world without Professor Presley, a world without Elvis swirls in your mind that weekend as you force yourself to do your schoolwork. Ignoring it would be so easy and you could just curl up with his jacket and with your favorite book or in front of the little television and just pretend you hadn't heard any of that. Any time you think of doing that, though, you hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like his with a little backing of a voice that sounds like yours in your mind reminding you that you should do your work. So you do and you eat and you do everything you're supposed to that weekend as you try to avoid thinking of what the other students had said. It's hard but you manage well enough. Monday comes sooner than you'd like and you find yourself dreading entering Elvis's- Professor Presley's class. You sit down in your normal spot though, your eyes shut as you try to relax and burrow yourself into his jacket as you do.

His cane taps against the floor and a breath you hadn't realized that you were holding comes out of your mouth in a rush. He's here, he's alive and he's going to be teaching class today. You bite your lower lip as you hear the taps stop right behind you and feel Elvis's hand grasp your shoulder, just as warm as it always is. You hear his voice rumbling, even with so much exhaustion coloring the tone about how he's glad to see you where you’re supposed to be and you look up at him to see something in his eyes, something that feels like a spark of the man you've fallen for completely this semester. Maybe- no, you don't dare hope fully.

Class feels like a blur and while there is a debate as per his usual it's much more subdued with you barely offering input and him still feeling a little too rough to really force some excitement into it. A part of you wants to just head straight to your other class and not entertain the idea of going to Elvis's office but as you start to leave you hear the tap of his cane following you and hear his voice.

"Y/N." He starts, his eyes roaming your top half and settling on his jacket. "Gonna see ya in five minutes?"

The word no is on the tip of your tongue, you should say no but you've been so worried about him that you nod slowly, adjusting the straps on your bag and it earns a small smile from him as he walks off slower than normal but still seeming just as strong as normal with the tap of the cane. It takes you a little longer than five minutes to reach him, almost as if you're too nervous to really go to his office but when you get there the door is wide open and you see two drinks on the desk and you settle yourself onto the couch.

Talking- even with everything- comes so naturally to the two of you that you hardly realize how you both shift closer to the other as you talk. You hardly realize how you're close enough that you can feel his body heat against your side and that he feels the same thing. This is how it always seems to start since the Incident, with you two moving closer and closer until you're in his lap and today is no exception. Except, maybe it is because you're wearing his jacket and you saw a glimmer of something in his eyes that tell you maybe there's something there. That maybe the person you want to spend all your time with is still there underneath everything. You don't know when you decide to hook your leg over his thigh, thanking every god you know that he has a tendency to spread his legs even if there's no reason to and you hike up your skirt just a hair as you start to grind against his thigh, facing him as you do. Your hands move to try and cup his face, try and pull him closer to you before you feel his hands on your hips manhandling you to face that opposite way.

No. This- no, this isn't- you want him but not like this any more. God you can't- why was it so hard for him to let you just look at him when you do things like this. He was gone for two classes and you were so worried but he won't look at you. You're wearing his jacket and he noticed and he won't let you look at him. Your body can't help itself, still grinding a bit as you try and maneuver yourself back to facing him only to be stopped time and time again by his grip. It's not punishing and it's not going to bruise- you hope- but he won't let you turn. He won't let you turn and his mouth starts to spew words that make you want to curl up in on yourself.

His mouth hisses into your ear. "The Jezebel doesn't want it this way? Doesn't want my thigh today? Too good for me?"

You snarl, tears starting to form in your eyes out of sheer frustration and anguish rolled into one. "I never- I'm not saying that, I just- Elvis, please, let me look at you." Your body starts to contort in positions you didn't think were possible as you continue to try and face him only to be brushed aside.

Words are leaving his mouth, you hear them faintly but you finally just launch yourself off his thigh, chest heaving and eyes fiery as can be. Your legs shake at the sudden loss of his thigh that had supported you up until now but you stand your ground as best as you can. "No, I'm not- We're not doing this, not like this, I- What have I even done to deserve this? This- God, I don't even know what to call it. This joke? This playing with me like this?"

"Playing with ya like this?" He barks, heaving his body off of the couch and moving to stand in front of you, his blue eyes stormy as anything you've ever seen in your life. "That's goddamn rich comin' from ya. Lil Miss Jezebel. The Tour Guide. The Harlot who-"

"Don't!" You shout, not even caring if anyone outside in the hallways can hear you. "Stop calling me that! I'm not- You wouldn't call me a good girl if I was any of those things!"

"They're- They don't hafta be seperate, darlin'!" His emphasis on the nickname is punctuated by him inching even closer to you, his words getting lower as he starts to hiss them. "Because you're most certainly a Jezebel, climbin' on me every chance ya get. Actin' like your God's gift to men wit' the others. Tell me, that new professor, t'one in the math department-"

"What other- Is this about-" Your thoughts jumble as they try to catch up with what he's saying. He's calling you a complete Jezebel and asking about someone who doesn't even exist to you. Your chest heaves as you push yourself into the little bit of space between you, your pointer finger pointing at his chest. "The new professor? The one I had to ask for help for because he's the only math professor who hasn't tried to come onto me?"

"Do- Do I look stupid to you, Jezebel?" He asks, almost as if he's afraid to say your name. "I heard from the other professors-"

"You could have asked me!" The words are spit out of your mouth and you can even see a bit of spittle flying onto his face. It brings you a sick sense of satisfaction to see how his already angry face slides between pure shock and more anger. "I thought we were friendly enough to do that! I've been to your house, Elvis!"

The noise that comes out of him before he can even get words out is truly defined as a snarl and a growl in the truest sense of the words. If you hadn't known any better you'd have thought you were arguing with a wild animal. It startles you to the point where you back away just a bit, not because you're worried he'll hurt you- no he's never been that type even with everything- but just because it's your natural instinct in the face of something like that. Despite that, he follows you, moves closer again even as his voice roars leaving his mouth. "You've been in my bed, Y/N! My goddamn bed! Curled up next t'me like ya belonged there!"

You duck away from him, almost as if to escape feeling very much like a cornered animal. He's not going to hurt you- he won't because he's not like- he's not like the rest of them but you can't defend yourself if he pins you down with his body or his words. His eyes follow you like a predator stalking prey even if you both know you've never truly been prey to him or perhaps anyone else. "That's exactly my point! Why wouldn't you just ask me?"

"'Cuz ya'd have lied!" His answer is slurred, the anger truly getting the better of him as he moves to cage you against the wall, only to have you slide away again.

"Not to you, Elvis!" How could he even think you'd lie to him about something like that? That you'd truly lie to him in general? "I've never lied to you!" You hadn't told him things but you had never lied, not a true and honest lie.

"Haven't ya?" He doesn't move this time, instead choosing to stare you down. "Tell me, Jezebel. Did ya just wanna fuck me so ya could tell everyone ya did? How ya got me when I haven't fooled around with a student in all my years and I haven't fooled around with anyone going on at least a year? Or was this just ya bein' sweet on the fat ol' man?"

The flinch that comes from you is unexpected and you look down at your body wondering if he shot you or slapped you and you didn't realize. There isn't a mark on you, no blood showing, no handprint making a mark on you. There is just you wishing he would have slapped you or injured you in some way because maybe it would hurt less than the words he had just said. It would hurt less than the accusation he's just thrown your way. You do not cry in front of people, you refuse to, knowing tears never make things better when you're caged and yet you feel your lower lip starting to jut and your nose starting to run before you shake your head. It's- he's not- he is wrong and you need to prove that to him.

"Just being sweet on the fat old man." You can't help but laugh, the cacophony of emotions threatening to tear you apart at the seams. "Do you- Do you hear yourself? I- What is it, Elvis? Am I your Jezebel sent to what ruin your little God Fearing self? Or am I just some Jezebel who's sweet on you? Or are you going to tell me I'm both? That I'm not good enough for you? Too used?"

You see his jaw tighten and you worry if you've said the wrong thing. You worry that he's seen how you look like you're about to cry and something is going to go wrong but he just takes a step closer to you, his cane tapping on the floor just once. His head tilts just slightly to the side. "I know what I said, lil Jezebel. I know that you've been actin' all sweet, actin' like you're worthy of the nickname Belle. Worryin' 'bout me. Comin' to my house, gettin' me into bed but when I worry 'bout ya, put ya in my bed next to me, ya leave me alone. Then I hear t'boys. Hear what the lil professors you'll eventually fuck gotta say about ya. Ya just playin' a lil game wit' me, ain't ya?"

You bite your lower lip as an answer before you take a deep breath as you start to head to the door, trying to open it only to realize at some point he's locked it. You could unlock it but you feel the need to turn around and defend yourself. "That's- Elvis. No. No- I- I wouldn't- I honestly like you!" You don't dare say love because if he thinks this low of you he's not going to want to hear it. "I care about you! I- You haven't been here for almost a week in actual days counted and I've been worried. They're making jokes about you dying and that idea terrifies-"

He cuts you off as he takes another step and you hear another tap of that goddamn cane as you find yourself moving up against the wall, realizing you can't move. "Stop. Lyin'."

"I'm not- Elvis- I'm not! Why can't you- I'm I wouldn't lie to you about something like this. I wouldn't lie to anyone like this." You want to be strong, you want to fight more but it's as if he's saying everything exactly to hurt you in just the right way. He's saying everything that just cuts through any defense you have for it.

It finally starts to weigh on you, finally starts to drag you down into the depths you were trying so hard not to fall into. He- he won't understand either because of his own choices and stubbornness or because the idea is foreign to him. The idea that you were terrified- you the girl who is so strong that you've taken something that should be an insult and wear it with a bit of pride or at least wear it in a way that lessens its effect- is so foreign it truly refuses to penetrate his brain. At last that's the only thing that crosses your own mind as you feel cornered. You feel trapped and like- you feel like something is finally breaking within you. That this, out of everything you've had thrown at you is what's broken you. The wall behind you reminds you of his solid form except it's all wrong, it's so cold that it can't be him. He's standing in front of you, blue eyes raging like a hurricane and his body coiled like a tight spring, his cane holding up his leg as he moves forward to cage you in again and that's it.

Your body sags against the wall, using it to remain somewhat upright as you slunk down to the floor, unshed tears congealing in a hard mass in your throat. You try and swallow only to have something again to a low groan or small whine escape your lips. This- he's broken you, you've been so strong only to let this stupid man who you shouldn't have even gone for in the first place break you. This stupid man who was- who felt so different and like he held every promise for happiness in the words he spoke. In the praise he gave you. In the way his body felt like it was made to hold you and touch you in ways you yearned for.

"Jesus-" His voice sounds crushed above you and for some reason there's a part of you that feels a victorious delight in the fact that you've made him sound like that. Made him sound as anguished as he's made you feel for weeks. As anguished as you feel thinking of him dead. “Y/N- Get up- Ya g-gotta stand up darlin’.”

No you don’t, hell you don’t even trust that your legs would let you stand up at this point, as much as you feel them minutely shaking. No, you’re quite content to stay on the floor, feeling almost catatonic in the way your mind is focusing on everything about the past semester. You try to close your eyes as if that will make the tears that are threatening to fall go away when all it does is make them slide out the corner of your eyes. That's the final dam bursting as more follow even as you don't want them to. All that’s in your mind is every moment he’s touched you, every moment you’ve walked next to him, every moment when his eyes were like sapphires glittering as he looked at you laughing over a bottle of Pepsi while you waved your hands talking. You remember every hint of praise that had your mind going a little fuzzy and had you shiver for a want of more.

"Anyone ever tell ya how insightful ya are?" No because even if you paid attention during class and did the readings and made the grades they didn't care.

"Ya ever thought about teachin'? Though the debate was a goner till ya put it back on track." That was nothing, just you wanting to make sure no one lost the point Elvis was trying to teach.

"You've been makin' this semester a goddamn breeze."

Perhaps you had but for what? For him to be missing class and looking half strung out or exhausted when he came back? In all the time you had spent together he hadn't even hadn't even told you what the problem was- what took him away from you and from a job he loved. Maybe everyone was right, maybe this might be his last semester teaching and look what you’ve done- you’ve made it so his last hurrah is being known as your last fling or just another fling in your series. The thought makes your stomach roil at doing that to him- doing that to a man that God help you- you had fallen head over heels for to the point that you wanted him at any cost and in any way you could get him.

"You're- darlin'- you shouldn't b-be-" He has to stop himself from talking, feeling an old stutter starting to rear its ugly head. His breath comes out shakily as he tries to focus on you, focus on how your shoulders are shaking with tears and how he did this to you. How he's done something that's irrevocably harmed you. He hadn't wanted this, not even at his most angry has he wanted this. "Don't- don't cry. Goddammit, calm down. God, why'd ya hafta get on the ground."

You look up and for a brief moment there’s a flash of fire in your eyes, a pang of pure annoyance at what he says. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you once again! Make the great Elvis Presley have to get down on the ground. Put him at the Jezebel's level. Leave me down here where I apparently deserve to be."

"Ya know I didn't mean it like that! Goddammit Belle, jus' meant my knees-" He has to take a deep breath, slow and steady and shut his eyes as he gets down to your level before he opens them and cups your cheek, trying to be gentle even as you flinch a little and shake your head. "This- you s-shouldn't be cryin' like this." Not over him and what he's done. Over everything that's been done from the very start. "Ain't worth it."

More accurately he ain't worth it.

"I don't know anything when it comes to you, Mr. Presley." You pull away as your tears start to fall even faster. "I am crying like this over a man who thinks I'm- Don't call me Belle, don't call me that like you did when I was leaving you in your bed. Don't act like you care." After all, he doesn't, he can't because who would care for you and feel the way he does about you. Believe the things he does about you without giving you a chance to explain. "I'm just a harlot. I'm the Tour Guide of the school who now even you get to say you've slept with. You've still got it."

"Darlin'." His voice is pitched lower, almost as if he's trying to talk to a skittish animal. As if he's scared if he talks any louder he'll spook you and that you'll run away for good. "I-I never said I didn't care. W-Wouldn't've put ya in my bed that night if I didn't. Ya looked- ya looked freezin' 'n i couldn't stand it." He pauses, his features darkening for a moment. "Then ya left in the mornin' 'fore I even woke up."

You had left in the morning. You had left that morning because every time you stay at someone's house, some professor's house it's always ended so poorly. The way his face darkens as he tells you that makes your body shiver even as his jacket- that for some ungodly reason you still have, that for some ungodly reason you couldn't get rid of- tries to keep you warm. The anger he has makes you think you were right to avoid him that morning- he- but if he cared, if he meant to put you in there- then you should have stayed. He wanted to wake up to you, wanted to have you burrowed into his side. It makes you freeze.

Elvis looks at you and sees how your body tenses up, sees how you're frozen in place and he frowns as you start to speak. "When I stay in the morning, it's not pretty, Elvis. I- I didn't want you to be the same."

His hand clenches into a fist as he shuts his eyes. His breaths are slow and measured for what feels like an eternity before you see him unclench his fist and look at you. "Ya mean how the Chemistry professor's wife would have beaten ya black and blue if she had gotten a real proper hand on ya? 'Stead of the shiner ya had for a week? Or how ya busted yer ankle hoppin' outta tha' one history professor's window. Ya want me to go on?"

Something blooms in your chest at him telling you about those times. You hadn't even met him when any of those times happened. Sure, you had seen him around campus but he didn't- couldn't have even known your name. You open your mouth, tears still falling but slower as your body tries to calm you down. "You- You shouldn't know about-"

"'ve got eyes don't I?" He responds, as if that explains everything. "Y/N- Belle- I noticed ya before ya ever stepped foot in my class. And they talk, darlin', oh do they talk."

It's then that you look away, almost ashamed at knowing that he's always known about you actions. It is absolutely no wonder that he called you what he did, why he believes you to be what he's called you. You have to pause before you speak, trying to gather your thoughts, rubbing at your eyes as you do. "And that's- that's why you've been- if you've heard all the stories and do know about me then I guess you're not wrong in calling me Jezebel. Just adding you to my long list. But- you- when that's what happens when I don't leave- why do you think-"

His voice takes on an edge of frustration you think, or maybe it's genuine hurt. "Ya really think I'd've done any of that to ya? Ya think I'd do any of that t' someone 've been callin' Belle in my mind 'cause I sometimes look at ya n' I can only think of that damn word in French?" He moves to stand up, his knees and other joints cracking just a bit. "Get up, darlin'. I- just trust me this once and get up."

A stubborn part of you wants to stay on the ground, just sit there and stew in your tears and feelings but when you look up at him with blurry eyes you can't help but heave yourself off the floor and plant yourself just close enough to him that you're looking into each other's eyes if you look up through your lashes. "I- Elvis-" You start to speak only to have him cup your face and the warmth of his hand juxtaposed with the calluses on his fingertips has your eyes fluttering shut against your will. He's not supposed to be this soft, not to someone- not to the person he doesn't care about, the person he's only roughly fucked while pretending it didn't happen afterward. "Don't."

When you say that word he pulls away his hand and you think he's listening to you, think that he's doing what you're asking him to do only to hear the next words that come out of his mouth. "Blow your nose, Belle." His hand that hand left your face, had left your cheeks came back with a handkerchief, monogrammed with a cursive EP. He doesn't necessarily shove it under your nose but it's a near miss even as he kisses your forehead. "I'm not moving it from under here till ya do, Belle."

"I'm not a-" You start before looking up at him and realizing despite his comforting air no part of him is doing this because he thinks you're a kid. No, he knows you're a grown woman- you're a grown woman he wants to be with until his dying breath. "I can hold my own handkerchief."

His lips stop in the middle of attempting to give you another peck on your cheek a slight chuckle escaping him. "Would ya quit bein' stubborn? Tryin' to comfort ya and you're tellin' me ya can hold your own handkerchief. 've been a goddamn asshole let me show ya 'm really a good southern gentleman at heart."

"Southern gentleman don't act the way you did." You shakily exhale, realizing that he's trying to comfort you, trying to place small kisses on your face as if that is solving anything. You shake your head. "Southern gentleman don't play with people like that."

"Darlin', trust me, the older we get, the more every single Southern gentleman does." He pauses to look down at you, his blue eyes narrowed. "I try t'be a gentleman but Lord knows 've got a temper wit' a wrath that rivals God himself. 'N I think I took that out on ya. I- I'm- Ya wounded my pride, alright? Sayin' what you said when I asked if ya wanted me t'fuck ya. I know- I know I can get a woman, but I don't- It's usually more of one night stand or somethin' that's lackin'-" He rubs at his neck. "Care. Doesn't have that tender lovin' care I need nowadays more than I did when I was younger."

Care. Oh, you had been so- you both had been so stupid. Your eyes flit up and you notice how vulnerable he looks just in this moment and you swear it takes your breath away. "Elvis. I didn't- I thought you were trying to make me beg." A pause. "I was trying to what I thought you liked. I didn't- You've never been- No one else has made me feel like you make me feel."

So loved, so proud of, so everything under the sun. There's a reason your heart and your brain had wanted to spend the rest of his life and your life together. Being with him felt right when you stripped away everything that's been happening.

Elvis is silent for a moment, almost as if he's debating his next words or actions even as he still places another kiss to the crown of your head and uses his thumb to wipe away tears that keep falling and holding the handkerchief by your nose. He finally puts the handkerchief away, freeing that hand and using it to cup your chin. He tilts your head up just a hair so that you can see his eyes shining with what you think might be unshed tears as his voice becomes so gentle it twists your heart. "What d'ya want from me?"

"Everything." You choke out your answer, your voice scratching and sounding so raw when you do that you almost want to hide. "I want to be with you after this semester. I want to dance with you like we did that night. I- God- I want to wake up with you every day until one of us dies. I just want to be yours."

At your last words the tears start falling in earnest again and it breaks something in Elvis a little, seeing you cry after that confession. He doesn't waste a second before pulling you into a soft kiss, using his grip on your chin to make it easier. You want more but he's pulling away and placing kisses on your forehead and your cheeks, chasing after the tears in a way that's so gentle you'd think it's fatherly but it's not- it's just him allowing you to be a human again. Allowing you to be more than just the harlot or the Jezebel. Seeing you as the person he's always thought you have been before the Incident and even after the Incident.

"Ya mean it?" There's a small part of him that curses how he sounds asking that but he needs to hear it from you. Hear that you're being honest and truthful with him about what you want. "If ya gonna change ya mind I need t'know right now."

You sniffle and shake your head. "I mean it! I want to be with you and only you. I've only been with you since that day. Haven't flirted or anything. I want to do my work on your desk, want to curl up on your couch with you just- I want you. I want you, my Elvis, my Big Daddy because you're- You're the only one who's ever treated me like more." You pause, taking a deep breath. "Like I'm worth getting to know beyond just my pussy. I can't- I don't want to go back to a world where I don't have you. Where I'm not able to kiss you and be with you in whatever way I can. Where I can't fill your house with-" You stop yourself, because that's too much, that's not something you're admitting to him right now. "I just I want you. I'm not changing my mind, if I was going to I would have the second you didn't give me back my panties, Elvis. When you were so mean and hurtful and-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, this time a little less gentle but still nothing compared to what he wants to do to you. His teeth nip at your lower lip just a bit and you can't help the whimper that escapes you as he pulls away your mouth trying to follow his. Looking in his eyes, you see something different, you see the overwhelming lust, the blown pupils threatening to overwhelm his blue eyes but more than that you see a man who looks so in love with you he might as well keel over with the sheer force of it.

"Feel like an idiot for missin' out on that. Gonna keep kissin you like that for as long as i can. Ya realize that." He pauses as his eyes rake over your form. "Get on the desk, Y/N. My sweet Belle." His emphasis on the nickname, Belle versus Jezebel is the only thing that reassures you he's not planning on doing anything rough. That he has a plan for you to look at him while he does- whatever it is. You take a minute to hop up, sniffling once again as you rub at your eyes. Your emotions are still a mess but you can- this helps, you think.

Elvis grunts, using the cane and a grip on your knee to help ease him onto the ground right in front of your legs, right in between your legs as his hands dance up your thighs. His gaze is on you, full of promise and want as his hands inch further up and up until he reaches between your legs, one hand moving to cup your pussy while the other grabs your hip and pulls you a little closer to the edge of the desk.

"You been payin' attention in class?" He asks as you can't help but whimper a little at the feel of his hand covering you like that. "Specifically this one? What we talked 'bout at the beginning?"

Your head nods slowly as you shiver, feeling the fabric of your underwear being pulled lower and lower down your legs. "You mean psalm 51? What about it, Elvis?"

"Think ya can recite it by memory?" The words of his question are punctuated by kisses up your legs, starting with your calves before moving to knees and then to your thighs. He bites softly causing you to clench them together around his head before he mumbles a no. "While I'm here between your legs."

It feels like a challenge and it causes a curl of arousal to shoot directly between your legs as your vagina clenches around nothing. His hand feels the movement and you can feel the smirk of his lips against your skin before you answer as he puts one singular finger inside of you. "I can." You sigh out your answer as he curls that one finger your arousal making it easy for him to.

Hard doesn't even begin to explain how it is to try and speak- to try and remember the psalm as you feel his tongue flick against your clit once, twice, before moving down to your folds. Another finger has joined the first and you can feel them inside of you, following where his tongue traces. His licks and strokes are leisurely done, almost as if he wants to drag this out, wants to go at the pace that you're speaking when all you want to do is have your orgasm that you can feel brewing but when you stop to take a breath, so does he. It's infuriating right until the midway point when you say "grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me" his mouth wraps around your clit, sucking and even giving you a small nip as his fingers curl against your g-spot. It shouldn't be enough to help you cum, it shouldn't and yet you feel your toes curling and your thighs tightening around his head as he hums in satisfaction. Your body shakes, grinding against his mouth even as his free hand tries to keep your hips from moving. Your thighs don't unclench until he taps at your leg and even then they still shake as he pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as you try and pull him up for a kiss only to have him continue his attack on your cunt.

You keep reciting, feeling as if that's what he wants you to do despite how your voice shakes and how you whimper the more sensitive everything becomes. You cum again by the end of your first full recitation, panting with your chest heaving. There is a thought in your mind to tell Elvis to stop, that you need a break but even though you are starting to feel over stimulated, the way he's looking up at you as his mouth does sinful things to you, as he teases your swollen clit with his fingers and his mouth more and more stops you. His free hand moves to lock fingers with the one of your hands that isn't winding through his hair, yanking and earning growls the more you speak. The intimacy of it all has you nearly sobbing tears of joy this time, not the tears of sadness you had been experiencing. You feel yourself cumming in a way that's unfamiliar as you stutter out the words "my tongue will sing of your righteousness" and Elvis has to pull away, a chuckle escaping him as you see his whole face might as well be covered in your release. It takes him a moment to recover but you swear you hear him talking about squirting when he kisses his way up your thigh and back to his task at hand. When you finally finish the psalm the second time your body is shaking and his tongue and fingers and everything are so overwhelming that when you attempt to start the psalm for a third time you say the first words five times.

"Daddy please, let me cum. Please, I've been good." The words are whimpers when they leave your mouth as you try and grind and get to that edge.

"I know, Belle, been so good, taste even better." He mutters against your clit.

That does it, that has your hand clenching his and your other pulling his hair as you grind on his face, practically smothering him as you cum. The sheer intensity of it has you thumping backward on the desk, trying to catch your breath as your legs shake and you hear him speaking against your thigh. You catch bits of the word holy and jezebel and God and you feel a warmth settle in your body that you can't quite explain. You use your hand to pull him away enough that you can understand him before you ask.

"Are- Are you talking to God- thanking God for me?" The concept boggles your mind but it's so touching at the same time that your heart threatens to burst at the idea.

"Think 've been thankin' God for ya since I first saw ya, but 'specially since I saw ya in my class. My holy- My sweet holy Belle." He winces at the crack his knees make when he gets up and leans both on the cane on the desk when he finally stands up. "None of 'em deserved ya 'n I'm not too sure I do but- 'll try to deserve ya."

Your hands move to cup his face, marveling in how he nuzzles up against your palm before you smile, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Trust me, Elvis, I think you're the only one who ever has." You nuzzle at his nose before pulling away. "How about you let this pretty little sinner, this harlot, this Jezebel take care of you. I don't have a class and-"

Elvis cuts you off with another kiss before he nods. "Only if Big Daddy-" He looks at you, reminding you that yes, your nickname you have for him snuck out. "Gets to take care of his pretty lil sinner, his Belle, and help her wash away all those sins."

The light in the smile you give him could power the whole of the campus for months if you could bottle it up. You slide off the desk a little less gracefully than you mean to before nodding. "Lead the way, Elvis." A pause. "I love you."

"Ain't I the luckiest man for it too." He adjusts himself in his pants, hoping you don't notice that there's a bit of a wet spot on them where his cock should be. "Love ya too. Come on now, never did get to show ya Graceland's shower in my room."

taglist: @elvisgirl35, @butlersluvbott, @lokis-right-femur, @godlypresley, @steph-speaks, @lindszeppelin, @eliseinmemphiss, @thatbanditqueen, @venus-haze, @lrd98, @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @notstefaniepresley, @holyastronauts, @vintageshanny, @powerofelvis and @ellie-24 and i think that's it? i don't know and apologies if you got tagged twice, i trusted a copy/paste.

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley angst #austin butler elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfiction #austin butler elvis x reader #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis smut #austin butler elvis smut #big daddy elvis #ally writes #elvis x you #austin elvis x you #austin elvis x y/n

235 notes · View notes

azullumi · 2 years

Note

Hii, I recently started following your blog and am absolutely in love with your writing! I'm in awe with how you both portray the characters and describe their feelings.

I wish you all the best in your academics!

What do you think about going on a first date with Kaveh?

summary — kaveh and his first date anxieties.

pairing — kaveh/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, established relationship, not proofread ; headcanons

words — 920

note — i was supposed to have a different approach on this one but before i knew it, i ended up revolving everything on kaveh but then rereading the ask, i'm glad i did. but anyways! im glad that u love my writing, nonnieee <33 thank u so much for the sweet words and i hope you'll like this! i settled on headcanons so that its easier for me to write and convey the ideas haha

"Do you want to go out sometimes? Maybe for a meal? Oh, wait, I mean, uhh—I just thought it would be nice if we could see each other on days that we are free."

He was the one to initiate an invitation to go out with you even if he just said it out on a whim, a sudden slip of his tongue—as if he hasn't dreamt of taking you out to eat a meal together with you, walk around the city while maybe holding hands, watch the Zubayr Theater's performance for that day, and everything that he wishes.

He's nervous, extremely nervous and anxious. The usually confident and proud man has been reduced to nothing but a small figure of anxiety but honestly, who wouldn't be? Going out on a date with someone who they genuinely and sincerely like, who wouldn't feel uneasy? It was only just the starting point of your relationship and he's only just experiencing his every firsts with you and he wants to make each one of it special.

Even if he has everything already planned out—including the words that he will say and the route that you two will take as he just wants to make sure that everything will go right—he still feels skittish. What if something goes wrong? God, he just wouldn't be able to handle it.

He spent days preparing for the event, the place that you two will have a meal on, what you will do afterwards, and the place of scenery he will take you to right before the day will end. In short, he's very attentive.

He'll also try on several outfits for the occasion, bringing out the clothing he kept hidden that are only to be used on important events. He just can't go out with you with the set of clothes he wears on a daily basis, can he? It's a special day, a date, to be exact.

Despite the feeling of fear and anxiety filling up his mind, he's still excited and looking forward to the day of the date. He ponders on what you would wear, how you will smile, how you will react upon seeing the things that he did and prepared for you, what will you say, and everything. It feels like falling in love and admiring you from afar all over again, as if he went back to the times wherein the two of you weren't still together and you were the only one in his mind as he wonders about every single thing about you—though it's not like he doesn't fall in love over and over again in his every day with you.

And then the day came.

“Kaveh!” “Don’t run, (Name)!”

If he hadn’t been holding on to the thin thread of his sanity and balance, he would have fallen on his knees because of how weak he feels after seeing you dolled up. Expect to be showered with compliments and being flattered by him in every moment—he just could never get enough of how lovely and attractive you look and he wants you to know it.

He’ll proceed with the plans that he laid out for the day inside his head and though you couldn’t say that it went by smoothly, everything was definitely perfect and amazing for you. Every moment, every second you spent with him felt magical and didn’t fail to put a smile on your face the whole time you were with him—seeing your delighted expression and cheerful demeanor made him feel proud and pleased for himself.

The first date wasn’t simply just to increase the intimacy and closeness between you two but to also get to know what you like, what you favor, and what you prefer the most over anything so each time he sees you happy and pleasant over something—like your attention being caught by a certain figure or object in the street and being struck by it— he takes a mental note and makes sure to not forget it.

Throughout the day, you two were close to each other and were even either holding one another’s hand or you had your arm linked with his as you walked around. Outside, he may appear that he’s fine and cool with it but inside he is actually screaming and having an inner monologue fight with himself about what he should do: if he should squeeze your hand or pull you much closer to him or if he should just let you be.

He doesn’t want to part ways with you when the day ends and the date has come to its conclusion and as much as he tries to lengthen and stalls the time he gets to spend with you, he still has to say goodbye in the end. However, give him a quick kiss on the cheek, forehead, or wherever you wish before you two part and he will have a stupid grin plastered on his face as he walks back to his home.

He doesn’t rest but rather thinks of where you two will have a date next, staying up all night while staring at his ceiling and daydreaming of you. Perhaps a picnic in the forest in the afternoon while you two wait for the sun to set would do or maybe going to a spot with beautiful scenery like a lake he found hidden in the forest that looks so magical with the crystalflies and butterflies fluttering their wings around the area? Nevertheless, he’s looking forward to it all.

#yae publishing house #kaveh x reader #kaveh genshin #kaveh #kaveh headcanons #kaveh x you #kaveh fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #azul.writes

190 notes · View notes

juiceinpanties · 2 years

Text

10 Things You Hate About Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): Chapter: PG; Fic: E

Tags: eventual smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, subbie!Eddie, masturbation (m and f), fake dating, van sex, secret relationship, antagonistic relationship to friendship to lovers, casual sex, not-so-casual sex, phone sex

Summary: Your best friend, Nancy Wheeler, is absolutely dying to date Steve Harrington, but her parents have the weirdest rule: Nancy can't date until her friends (e.g., you) do. Nancy begs you to date someone, anyone, and eventually you agree. Meanwhile Steve offers to pay Eddie "the freak" Munson to ask you out. What could possibly go wrong??

Notes: This is, quite obviously, a 10 Things I Hate About You au, with a slight twist. Throw in some fake dating, a 90s setting, and here we are. Thanks to @tonybourdain for dragging me in and continuing to enable me.

Please note the tags. This chapter is rated PG, but future parts will be smutty!

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog! Completely blank blogs that just like will be blocked because I'm gonna assume you're a bot. I've been here a long time.

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Senior year. You’ve almost made it, you’re almost OUT! You and your best friend, Nancy Wheeler, have spent the last 4 years planning for college and your escape from Hawkins, and now it’s just 9 short months away. You’re practically counting the days.

“I’m just saying,” Nancy says as she bites into a carrot stick. “One or two dates. It wouldn’t hurt either of us. Don’t you want to date before you go to college?”

“I have dated,” you say with a frown. “It wasn’t for me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hooking up with a few guys at a few different parties is hardly dating,” she says. She leans in closer, lowering her voice so none of the cafeteria busybodies will overhear. “You know I love you and all your convictions, but my parents won’t let me date until you do, and I really. Really. Want to go out with Steve. Just once! Please?”

You huff and drum your fingers against the table. You aren’t 100% sure about Steve, but Nancy tends to be a good judge of character, so if she likes him...

“Fine!!” you say. Nancy beams and claps her hands in delight. You hold up a hand to quell her enthusiasm. “But I’m not going out with one of Steve’s idiot jock buddies. Find me someone interesting.”

Nancy stares at you. “Sweetie, no offense, but...what the hell does that mean?”

“I mean, like, I don’t know. Someone not like Steve. Think of Steve, then go the opposite direction.”

Her face twists in thought. “I’ll talk to Steve.”

“Do that,” you say, grabbing your tray. “In the meantime I have chem.” You walk away, confident that they won’t find anyone. Steve’s friend circle is small, and it’s almost exclusively jocks—except, strangely, for Robin Buckley; that’s not a pair you ever would’ve pictured. You’re sure they won’t find anyone who meets your criteria. The peace and quiet of your senior year will remain undisturbed.

---

Eddie Munson has probably spoken 2 words to Steve Harrington in his entire life, yet now he’s nearly positive Steve is waving...at him. And heading...his way. Eddie glances over his shoulder, but the coast is clear. Just him. And Steve. Making a beeline right for him.

That can’t be good.

“Hey! Munson! You got a sec?!”

Steve Harrington knows his name? That really can’t be good. Eddie shifts his notebook from one arm to the other and shrugs a little. “Kinda on my way somewhere.”

“Right, yeah, your Hellfire thing. Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler are in that, right?”

Now Eddie is thoroughly nonplussed. Even more than he was before. “Yeah,” he says. “Is that a problem?”

“Nah, man, not at all!” Steve runs a hand through his ridiculous hair and grins. “They’re kinda friends of mine. I mean, Dustin is. Sorta. And Mike’s his buddy, so...” Steve swallows and glances around. “Okay, look, this is kinda weird, but...you know Mike’s older sister, Nancy?”

“Uh huhh,” Eddie says, drawing the syllable out in suspicion. He starts toward the media room, hoping Steve’ll get the hint, but he just falls in next to him.

“Nancy’s cool. Really, really cool. And smart. Probably too good for a schlub like me,” Steve says, which makes Eddie snort.

“False humility ain’t your look, man.”

Steve peers at him, but then blinks it away. “Anyway, I really wanna ask her out, but her parents have this weird rule...” He explains the Wheelers’ bizarre and frankly antiquated rule that their precious daughter can’t date until her friends do—one friend in particular. You.

“Do you think maybe you could ask her out? She agreed to go out with someone so Nancy and I could date, but she requested someone, uh.” Steve clears his throat. They’re at the media room by now, and he stops. Shoves his hands in his pockets. “Someone...weird? Uh. Not at all like me, were her words.”

Eddie snorts. Is this a joke? He’s seen Carrie like 50 times and he has no intention of being the sad girl covered in pigs’ blood; especially since he doesn’t have any psychic powers to get his awesome, fiery revenge.

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” he says. “I might be stoned, but I’m not stupid. No way a friend of Nancy Wheeler’s would go out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.”

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He told Nancy this was a bad idea. “Look, man, I swear I’m being straight with you. She’s cool, okay? A little bit touchy and, like, grumpy? I guess? But cool. She’s into that Dungeons and Dragons stuff too. You can ask her to join Hellfire! She’d probably say yes.”

He gives Eddie big, hopeful puppy eyes, and as much as Eddie wants to tell him to fuck off, some part of him can’t. He’s noticed you around school; he has eyes. You’re cute and definitely smart and probably way out of his league...but fuck it. It’s not like his stock could plummet much further, and if you really are into D&D, it’d be cool to have a girl in the club.

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Not gonna promise anything, but I’ll talk to her. If she wants to join Hellfire, fine. If not, you’re on your own. Find another patsy. Got it?”

“Yes! Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” He slaps Eddie’s shoulder. “I promise you won’t regret it! I can even pay for your date. Just lemme know where you’re gonna take her. I’ll throw in a little extra for your trouble.”

Pay him. To date a cute girl. There are worse ways to make money. “Cool. I’ll see if I can talk to her tomorrow.” He pauses and studies Steve through narrowed eyes. “If you’re fuckin’ with me--”

“Swear I’m not!”

“Fine. But if I get kicked in the nuts I’m comin’ after you.”

“Fair enough. Thanks, Munson. Really.” Steve grins again and practically skips away.

Eddie glowers after him. Possibly he just made a huge mistake, but, again, what the hell? Maybe he’ll get a chance to chat up a cute girl; maybe he’ll get kicked in the nuts. Either way it’ll be something to do.

---

The next day during lunch you’re minding your own business attempting to catch up on the reading for AP English. Nancy is off canoodling somewhere with Steve (or so you suspect), so you’re on your own. Just you and Hamlet.

Hamlet’s hitting existential crisis number 582 (give or take) when you sense someone hovering over your shoulder. You glance back and your eyes narrow when you see Eddie Munson.

He offers a wave and a little smile. “Hi,” he says. “Hey. Um. I’m Eddie.”

“I know who you are.”

“Great! That’s great.” He takes the seat next to you, uninvited, and peeks again at your book. “Hamlet, huh? That’s the guy who banged his mom, right?”

Your mouth quirks. “In some interpretations, sure. But I think you’re thinking of Oedipus Rex.”

“Oedipus! Right. The riddle guy who banged his mom. Yeah, Hamlet’s the one with the ghost dad.”

“Bingo.” You shut your book and set it neatly in front of you. “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh, yeah.” He drums his hands against the table, his rings catching the light, and offers you an awkward smile. “I hear you’re into D&D.”

“Wow. Word gets around about an interest I never talk about or have a chance to indulge in.”

He blinks, then his grin turns sheepish. “Yeah, well. I think Mike Wheeler mentioned it? You’re friends with his sister, right? He’s in my club.” He smooths his shirt. “Hellfire Club.”

“So I’ve heard,” you say, mildly. “Are you selling candy bars or something?”

“Huh? Oh. Ha. No. We’re looking for an extra member for our next campaign. Someone with some experience.”

You eye him a moment. “You know, I tried to join your club freshman year. The guy in charge at the time told me girls didn’t play D&D.”

“He said what?!” He scowls and tugs at a lock of his hair. “Shit. Fuck that. We’re under new management now, and everyone’s welcome. So you in, or...?”

You grab your backpack and slip your book into it. “Listen, Eddie...I don’t know what this is about, but I’m a little busy these days, so I don’t really have time to—”

“Steve Harrington said I should ask you out!” he blurts as you get up to leave.

You freeze a moment before dropping back down into your seat. “You?”

“Yep, me. Sorry, not exactly the Dating Game lottery, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re fine. Just--well. I did say someone different.” You sigh and shake your head. “Fine. When and where?”

He stares. “The club?”

“No.” You wave a hand. “The date. You are interested in the date, right?”

“Oh!” he says. “The date! Yeah, sure, good. Is it like a double thing with Steve and Nancy, or...?”

This poor boy seems completely out of his element, and he’s kinda cute in a puppy, Muppet sort of way. You take pity on him. “There’s a party this weekend at Sharon Mooney’s. Pick me up at 8.” You scribble your address and the date on a piece of paper and pass it to him. “Don’t be late.”

“A party?!” Steve didn’t say a word about parties. He did NOT sign up for parties! He looks up at you, your brows lifted in a question, and after a moment he gives a resigned nod. “Eight,” he says. “I’ll be there.”

“Great,” you say. You stand up again, so that he’s having to look up at you. “This is strictly for show. No kissing, no touching, no bullshit. We’ll go, have a few drinks, mingle, leave. Got it?”

He blows out a breath and flashes a double thumbs up. “Got it, boss. See you then.”

You give him a brief pat on the head as you go by. “Good boy,” you say, and you don’t see his confused, slightly intrigued expression as you walk away.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson/reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #meg wrote this #stfic #emfic #10things

278 notes · View notes

l3viat8an · 1 year

Note

I'm sorry this is going to be really long but I've been thinking about this for so long now and I just need someone else's opinion on it--

So something I've been thinking about a lot lately is the way Obey Me! presents Satan's personality vs his actual behavior.

We've seen the game frequently tell us that he hides behind a mask of a smile, as if he has truly malicious intentions. I was reading a summary of his A Teasing Gesture Devilgram the other day on the Fandom wiki, and the final part of the Devilgram says that Satan asks MC if they aren't worried that they're being too trusting.

Again, this happens in one of the Season 1 Lessons when he gives us advice for the TSL quiz. If we choose to say "thank you", he wonders if we don't think we're worried about being fooled by him.

Then there's also his character introduction: "All smiles are just an act, the cynical fourth born", as well as his depiction as the Lord of Masks (again, hiding his true intentions behind a false smile). And in the Star event, even Asmo says Satan comes off as a friendly & approachable person "at first".

All in all, what I'm thinking about is, is that I feel like the way Solomare intends to present Satan as this malevolent person that hides his malicious intentions behind a fake smile, just doesn't fit with the way he acts overall all that much (and the reason why I say 'all that much' instead of 'at all' is because of his pranks on Lucifer, but we already know why he does that, but I kinda wanna exclude Lucifer so we can look at this in a broader perspective).

But the way I'm thinking is that Solomare want us to think of Satan as someone who'd be willing to betray the trust and hurt someone who didn't even do him wrong in the first place (such as MC), and maybe for the sake of his own entertainment.

I really feel like if Solomare wanted Satan to be this kind of sadistic, fake smile-malicious personality underneath kind of person, they would've done a better job at it. But I also feel like I could just be reading this depiction all wrong, and that it's just a way of saying Satan is trying to protect people from his wrath when he ever loses control of it. I feel like a could have also missed something along the way, or could be thinking a bit too hard, but for now I'm just going to leave it at this. What are your thoughts?

-🦢

Don’t be sorry!! You’re fineee 🦢!!!

And I definitely agree with you! If Solomare really wanted to make Satan this absolute perfect demon in public and a fucking bitch in private they would have actually done it. Yk?

Not make him even softer and more open around MC when it’s just the two of them. (and yeaaaa that could be another way Satan’s just manipulating MC but I don’t think so-)

Satan always makes it clear that he’s being as open as honest with MC as he can be. In the main story and Devilgrams he tells them how he’s always worried he’ll lose control and end up hurting the people he cares about. It’s always in the back of his mind that he could hurt them and how he did lose control for a few minutes, which just like he’s afraid of; resulted in MC getting hurt. (when MC refused to make a pact with him in season one)

Soooo yea- imo it’s more like you said at the end ‘Satan is trying to protect people from his wrath when he ever loses control of it.’ even if that means putting up another fact mask. and always holding himself back.

Then again I could be reading him all wrong and he could be just manipulating MC. But after so long, I don’t think he’d bother keeping up the act. I think by now there would have been a bigger crack in his mask. If Satan was going to be darker and actually manipulative we would’ve seen more of it by now.

#🦢 anon!#small disclaimer tho I’m not really a satan expert lol #obey me!#obey me satan #om! satan #obmswd satan #ro rambles #om!#obey me mc

62 notes · View notes

zelda-cooper · 8 months

Text

My version of Loonatics Unleashed (Part 2)

This is just my interpretation of this universe of "Loonatics Unleashed", don't take it as a summary of the series or as absolute truth to interpret your version. NO! It's just MY view and you have every right to disagree. Furthermore, there will be low-level words (even though I censor some) and there may be sensitive topics for certain people. Besides, this refers to the universe of Loonatics Unleashed, so for those who don't care, you can skip this blog, but for those who are a fan or if this interests you, you can continue reading. Part one of this blog is at the link below if you want to see it.

Part 1

Hi... I'm here again! Yeah, right? I posted that ls Loonatics blog in an unpretentious way, not expecting so many people to see it... And then I come across the post being reblogged and liked by A LOT of people... Ok, I'm exaggerating... But that amount is almost the same one I get in my regular Darkwing Duck posts, which is a surprise... I thought there weren't THAT many people who knew and liked Loonatics. So, right? Part 2 for you just to clear my conscience and talk about some other ideas I had. And it's not the character redesign yet, you'll have to wait for that... -w-

I again want to give credit to @drakepad-luv-2000, she was one of the reasons I'm doing these blogs (I'm sorry I got your pronouns wrong before, seriously-). And if you, a Loonatics fan, want to make a blog with your Headcanons, I just say that you can give credit to both of us. Having said that... Let's go! Again I will divide this post into two topics... The first will be highlighting more things in the story (theme, episode structure, tone of the series, etc.) and the second will be talking more about the characters' changed personalities and powers to adapt to this new version of me. So, we continue...

Story Narrative (Reinvented)

If you saw the post before this one and already know a lot about the change in the backstory before the story and the past of the protagonists, you will understand this topic better. It's much more about what the narrative structure will actually be like... In this case, again it would be divided into seasons, and here... I think I put an average of at least 6 seasons. Then you ask... "6 SEASONS FOR THIS VERSION OF YOU?!?! WHY?!?!"... Because I'm crazy and I like to suffer- I'm joking, but there's a hint of truth... I literally I have so many ideas for this series that there is no way I can only do 3 seasons. It has ideas for villains, for OCs, for the protagonists themselves, even for some secondary characters! So it will have to be 6 seasons AT LEAST (because I'm going to increase the number-). But, well... Having defined how long this series will be... What would be the ideal tone for it? I'm going to talk about the first three seasons, which kind of gives an overview of the rest of the series.

First Season

The first season, as you can imagine, is an introductory season, which introduces the protagonists, supporting characters and initial villains, where it also presents many of the dynamics and shows the main plot of the story. The season that people, most of the time, find the most boring because it's the beginning, but in this case it would be equally important, not only because it's the beginning (obviously), but it defines a lot of the dynamics of both the heroes and villains. I also want to explore a lot of their personalities, so there will be solo episodes for the protagonists (and considering that the seasons have an average of 20 episodes each, it's reasonable), this includes Zadavia, because honestly in the original series she didn't have a personality or defined relationships. It has the classic "villains of the week" episodes, but in this case... I like to ONLY get what was relevant. In other words, villains like those ice Vikings will be discarded because they are not exactly relevant, unlike Mastermind who has a story behind her that is interesting. I'm talking about the FIRST SEASON, because, in addition to helping a lot with the writing, because we'll have about five villains to stay (including Optimatus), it's also possible to add an additional supporting character (some are OCs or reimaginings of characters? Yes, but that's because the series only had Zadavia as a supporting character at the beginning, so... Leave me...). There is the fact that there will also be a villain in the middle who, basically, was from the second season, but I changed it to the first because he is too important to discard for the second... Which is General Deuce, who will be at the Optimatus' side as his right-hand man (he's basically the villain's main "henchman") and you can draw a good parallel with Ace. As you can see, the first season really is an introduction, but I made it more cohesive, less "random" and gave the characters more focus.

Second Season

The second season is where the story really starts to have a clearer narrative line (even with fillers), it's where the narrative starts to take more serious turns and we get more of the characters themselves. Do you have OCs? I think there's a lot here... But there's also a lot of change in terms of characters... Like Melvin The Martian and Rip Runner. These episodes include more of the characters that are inspired by Looney Tunes. Support characters... There's Zadavia, obviously... But there's Tweentums who is basically the prince of a planet there... Here I'll give him a different personality and that includes changing a lot of his relationship with Danger Duck (because honestly I felt really sorry for Duck for taking care of the brat-), and also changes Sylth Vester, which... You can believe it, but this villain here I'm going to give a nice makeover and he's going to be a villain of respect! As for the conclusion of Optimatus... In fact, I'm going to leave a lot of it for the third season, where it will become clearer what could happen at the end of it there. In the second season there will also be a lot of the evolution of the main characters individually, kind of like how they would continue here and so on, where everything will combine in the third season. And speaking of her....

Third Season

The third season is the famous time "When sh1t starts to stink". There won't be any character deaths (or maybe there will be, I don't know...), but this is where a lot of the things that happened in the previous seasons will come to fruition and with force in this third. This is kind of where most of the villains I highlighted will come together and cause chaos... In other words, there will be dynamics between villains, internal intrigues, etc... It's also where a lot of heavy scenes can occur and kind of It's where it separates from what the series was before to now, where the direction becomes more serious. Okay, it was like that before, but now it's more so. And this is where the Loonatics' direction becomes most unpredictable. What do I mean by that? It's a secret, I won't tell you now... But you will understand in the distant future. I'm just saying that some characters will have suffered a little...

So the tone of the seasons kind of escalates... In the next seasons there may be comedy again, but at specific moments that are conducive to that, especially because it can't be 100% serious. But that's kind of the tone of the narrative... Now let's get to what I consider the soul of the story...

Personality and Powers of the Protagonists (Reinvented)

I'm going to speak again in opening order, so... Let's get started...

• Ace Bunny

Okay, I'll admit that Ace is my least favorite... Because his personality in the original series is a bit "empty"... But considering he would have the vibe of a confident but insecure character... I got it from base Sonic's personality and also Leonardo's (from Rise of TMNT). But I think this is the one that, ironically, would be the most underestimated by the villains and basically the civilians he saves... Because he's charismatic, but he doesn't exactly have a certain "hero look". He may be confident, but his experience is zero, just like in combat. As much as he learned to fight, his type of fighting is much more street fighting, he doesn't have a lot of technique, so his arc is kind of knowing how to be a hero (just like most of the team). But there's another issue that anyone who's seen his story already understands between the lines... As for his powers... Honestly, I don't like his laser beam powers so much, because they don't have any parallels with Bugs Bunny... So I changed... His powers NOW are, first, being able to summon any MELAN WEAPON (that is, without firearms) and explosives, and the second is to make long-distance portals (with the condition that he has to KNOW where it is, because otherwise it's the same situation as him ending up going to the wrong place.

• Lexi Bunny

Ok... Honestly... I couldn't change ANYTHING about her personality... Because she's already very good, what I changed most was that her passion would be more for music and her powers... And also that she and Ace are brothers- But, powers! Here I didn't change that much, but her psychic rays were converted a little to Telekinesis, that is, she can levitate herself and objects and people, and the power to manipulate plants will become more evident.

• Danger Duck

This is another one that I didn't exactly change much, but I went deeper into it... Here he is another insecure character who always compares himself with others, but who hides this through arrogance and arrogance. He also has some Tsundere traits, that is... He pretends that he doesn't care or doesn't care about his companions, but deep down he cares about each one of them. And also... He is very VERY careful with children, he opens up more to children (you can already see that the Tweentums relationship and he can change a little-). As for the powers... I keep them the same, the random energy orbs and the teleport really suit him...

• Slam Tasmanian

Slam is another one that I ended up changing A LOT... And here I get a lot of the fans' interpretations, of him being the "big daddy" of the group, in the sense of being the one who protects the team the most and who is there to listen and help everyone. I still maintain the characteristic of him being a glutton, because it really draws a parallel with Taz, but here he has the ability to speak, but he prefers to remain quiet and more to himself. The powers... I changed it a little so as not to be a "copy and paste" of Taz... In this case, the powers are, first, going into bestial mode (something similar to the Hulk, so he only activates this mode when necessary , because he attacks EVERYTHING in front of him), and the second is the same as one of Ben 10's Aliens, which is that the objects he ingests become balls of plasma that he releases at enemies.

• Tech E. Coyote

I will say that I didn't change his personality or powers much... But I added more things... Besides him being autistic, which makes him have a little difficulty communicating or understanding other people's emotions, He also can't stay in public for a long time... In other words, he has a certain degree of social phobia. He can talk to friends and family, but speaking in public is almost IMPOSSIBLE for him... And he ends up having low emotional intelligence (or EQ), which results in him not knowing how to take care of himself very well when he's in trouble. hyperfocus or making some invention. As he had said, his powers remain the same.

• Rev Runner

My beautiful and adorable Roadrunner with ADHD- Okay, seriously... This one I changed some characteristics, but again his personality is more in-depth. Like the fact that, in the beginning, he was a little afraid of both Slam and Tech, because they are both kind of predators... Again the issue of hyperfocus, but in Rev's case, he manages to control himself in a certain way, the which also causes him to take Tech out of the lab several times. He is also more curious and mischievous in this version, especially because he is the youngest on the team, and he is also quite a gamer. His powers remain the same, with the exception of his GPS vision, because he doesn't use it much in the series and because it's very powerful (and you can't work with it that much...).

Conclusion

Well, guys... That's it! Sorry if it was simpler than the previous one... I just didn't have much to say here... But tell me what you think, your opinions, etc... BYEEE!

#looney tunes #loonatics unleashed #loonatics #danger duck #ace bunny #lexi bunny #tech e coyote #tech e. coyote #rev runner #slam tasmanian #zadavia

22 notes · View notes