#(says the girl who wears all black with brown boots LMAO) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-my-fandom · 3 years

Text

Low Expectations (Vanya Hargreeves x Reader)

Summary; The Hargreeve siblings meet Vanyas shy, kept together wife at Reginald Hargreeves funeral. Diego and Five don’t trust her.

Warning(s); Diego’s an asshole lmao. Five too. Slight suggestive themes at the end.

We reached 2K followers! 🎉

Date started; December 18th, 2020

Date posted; December 20th, 2020

. . .

“I don’t know about this,” Your voice is quiet as you stand at the entrance way of the Umbrella Academy, Vanyas hand tight in yours, your free hand clutching at the sleeve of her coat,

“It’s going to be perfectly fine,” Your wife promises, her own free hand tucking hair behind your ear, smiling reassuringly, “It might take them a minute to warm up to a new face, but, they’ll come around,”

“I hope so,” You murmur, Vanya barely pecking the side of your head before the door opens, revealing a tall skinny male- one you recognized as Klaus from the details your wife has given you,

“Vanya!” He cheers, immediately, hands raising excitedly as he leans on the door, “Youre here! And you brought a lady friend,” His eyes shift to you, where you swallow, smiling despite leaning further to Vanyas side.

“Hi Klaus,” Vanya smiles, gently tugging at your fingers to pull you into the Manor next to her, “This is Y/N, my wife,”

“Wife?” A woman with dark skin comes up, her arms crossed, “I didn’t know you got married,”

“It wasn’t a big wedding, or anything,” Vanya reassures, tightening her grip on your hand when you exhale, shakily, “I sent out letters. They must not have gotten in,”

“Or you just didn’t care,” A man in armor states, moving past you without a wave, “What’re you doing here anyways? You’re not welcome,”

“Really?” Allison snaps, “You’re gonna do this today? Way to dress for the occasion, by the way,”

“At least I’m wearing black,” Diego snips, your brows pinching with worry, as you look down at your black dress pants and brown sweater. Vanya gently shakes her head in reassurance, smiling weakly as if to tell you, he’s always like that.

“I’m sorry about him,” Allison breathes, extending a hand so you released Vanyas sleeve to take it, “I’m Allison. Vanyas older sister,”

“Technically we’re all the same age,” A deep grunt from behind you startled you to look over your shoulder, where a largely built man crosses his arms, though he painfully smiled, “I’m Luther. Nice to meet you,”

“Y/N,” You exhale, looking back to Vanya when she taps your knuckles with her thumb, her brows pinched at your flushed expression,

“Let’s go get something to drink,” She murmurs, leading you to where she remembered where the dining area was, your lungs exhaling a deep breath as you sit at one of the two couches, sinking into your thick sweater.

“I know they can be a little overwhelming,” Vanya speaks, quietly, sitting next to you and handing you a glass of water, “But they’ll warm up to you. I swear,”

“Maybe Diego’s right,” You lower your cup into your lap, looking over to your wives eyes, “I’m not family. I don’t belong to be here,”

“Who cares if Diego doesn’t think you belong?” Vanya takes your hand in hers, moving it to rest in her own lap, “I want you here. That’s all that matters,”

“Then that’s all that matters to me,” You smile, Vanya leaning sideways to peck your lips, softly,

“Welcome home, Mrs. Vanya,” You instantly pull away to look over at the chimpanzee with a cane, his figure slouched in the doorway,

“Pogo,” Vanya smiles, Pogo nodding in greet before his eyes shift to you,

“You must be Mrs. Y/N. I am so glad to finally meet you, despite the situation,”

Your eyebrows raise, “You know about me?”

“Well of course,” Pogo nods, smiling, “I happened to receive your letter,”

Vanya smiles again, glancing at you, Pogo lifting a hand before he steps away, Klaus walking around the shorter monkey to collapse onto the couch beside you, a glass of what looked to be alcohol in his hand,

You feel yourself lean into Vanya, eyeing the male, where he glances over at you and holds up his cup, “Would you like a sip?”

“No, thank you,” You murmur, Vanya squinting her eyes at her brother before watching as the rest of her siblings piled in, Luther remaining standing as Diego sat on the opposite couch, and Allison settled in the small chair,

“I think we should hold a small memorial at sun fall,” Luther starts, “At dads favorite spot,”

“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison asks, Luther glancing to her, brows knitted,

“Yeah. Under the Oak Tree. Did you not know that?”

“Okay, great,” Diego stands up, rolling his shoulders, “Why else did you force this family meeting?” His eyes stare at you, “And why is she even in here?”

“Diego,” Vanya shuts her eyes in annoyance,

“To find out what happened to dad,” Luther cuts, when seeing the flash of hurt in your eyes,

“What do you mean?” Vanya questions, “I thought they said it was a heart attack,”

“But do you really believe that?” Luther asks back, and you shift to sit up,

“Should I wait outside?” You ask, feeling as if invading their family matter, Vanyas hand raising to your upper back, soothingly, “No, sweetheart-,”

“That would be great. Thanks,” Diego smiles, sarcastically, Allison hissing out his name, threateningly, “What? Vanya brings some girl to dads funeral without telling us and now she gets in on our family business? Does she even know we have powers?” He leans forward, eyes on you, “Do you? Do you know we’re freaks?”

“Diego!” Vanya and Allison both shout, Vanyas hand forced to drop when you stand up, setting down your glass before moving back to the front of the manor,

“Y/N,” Vanya pleas, standing up after you, “Wait,”

“Nice going, asshole,” Allison spits, watching as Vanya moved after you, her hand catching your wrist, spinning you back to her so the siblings could see the teary gleam in your eyes,

“He’s right,” You whisper, shaking your head as you close your eyes, “Stay here, with your family. I’ll go home,”

“I’m not letting you leave upset,” Vanya breathes, and your eyes open,

“It’s obvious I’m not wanted here,” You state, “They don’t like me,”

“They don’t know you enough to decide if they like you or not,” Vanya argues, her hand now linked through yours, “I want you here. I don’t give a shit if they do or not. They’re not married to you, I am,” Vanya tilts her head, “Please?”

“Okay,” You nod, running a hand through your hair, Vanya humming in thought. She turns to her siblings, all staring at you,

“Call us when you’re ready for the memorial,” She turns back to you, tugging your arm towards the stairs to the bedrooms.

. . .

“What’s the date? The exact date,”

Your eyes watch as the youngest- or oldest- Hargreeve sibling moves around the kitchen, pulling out bread, peanut butter, and marshmallows,

“The twenty fourth,” Vanya answers, seat close to yours, her hand at your thigh beneath the table in a form of comfort as you warily watched her brother,

“Of what?”

“March,”

“Good,” Five sighs, Luther raising an eyebrow as he glances to his siblings,

“So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?” At Fives silence, Luther stands up so you nearly jump, “It’s been seventeen years,”

Five scoffs, “It’s been a lot longer than that,” He vanishes so your lips parted, looking at Vanya, so she took your hand and mouthed later, looking up at where Five reappeared in front of the cabinets,

“Where’d you go?” Diego asks, eyes narrowing at Vanya before he glances to Five,

“The future. It’s shit, by the way,”

“Called it,” Klaus speaks up, your brows pinching,

“The future?” You question, Five finally settling his gaze to you as he moved back to the front of the table,

“Yes. The future. Who are you, by the way?”

“Oh,” You smile, nervously, “I’m Y/N, Vanyas-,”

“Know what? Don’t really care,” Five grunts, and you press your lips together, leaning back in your seat, “Nice to see nothings changed,”

“That’s it?” Allison calls, watching Five move to leave, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What else is there to say? Circle of life,”

. . .

You shift closer against Vanyas side under the umbrella, staring at your already muddy boots before glancing up to the seven other figures around you,

“Did something happen?” Vanyas robotic mother, Grace, questions, Vanyas brows pinching as her gloved hand held yours,

“Dad died,” Allison reminds, “Remember?”

“Oh,” Grace frowns, “Yes. Of course,”

You glance over to Pogo stepping up beside you, “Whenever you’re ready,” He directs Luther, “Dear boy,”

You feel Vanya squeeze your hand as Luther dumps Reginalds ashes into the grass, your own fingers squeezing back reassuringly so she glanced over to you, your lips pulling into a small, comforting smile,

“Look, you wanna pay your respects?” Diego suddenly asks, your head turning to see him stepping into the middle of the circle, body drenched as he decided to go without an umbrella, “Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was,”

“You should stop talking now,” Luther demands, your eyes snapping to him, worriedly,

“Van?”

“It’s okay,” She whispers, watching Diego turn to Luther,

“You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One,”

“I am warning you,” Luther snarls, Diego quick to continue,

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away. That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” You jump when Luther grabs the hand Diego jabbed at his chest, his free hand balling into a fist to throw at Diego’s head.

Vanya is quick to slide her arm to your shoulders, leading you backwards and behind Grace, your eyes wide as the two brothers lunged for each other,

“Okay,” Vanya rushes, when Diego slips out a knife, “Let’s go inside. Now,”

“Is this normal?” You question, Vanya lowering her arm to take your hand a second time, pulling you towards the house doors,

. . .

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Vanya asks you as she unlocks the door, opening the front to the shared apartment you lived in,

“I’m sure,” You state, voice quiet, following after her and opening your mouth to continue, but jump when the lamp turns itself on, Five appearing in the love seat beside it,

“Jesus,” Vanya hisses, your hand at your chest

“You should have locks on your windows,” Five states, Vanya setting down her keys as you shut the door behind you,

“We live on the second floor,”

“Rapists can climb,” Five raises an eyebrow, your own pinching as Vanya glances to you,

“You are so weird,” She moves towards the couch, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust. Because you’ll listen,” Fives eyes flick to you, Vanya following his gaze so you looked at her,

“I’ll go take a shower,” You rush, pulling off your jacket as she frowns, “Let you two talk,”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Vanya orders, where you nod, smiling before moving to the back part of the apartment,

“Nice girl,” Five clears his throat, as Vanya pulled out gauze for the blood at his arm, “Who is she? Roommate?”

“Well if you would have let her finish earlier,” Vanya sits next to him, patting the alcohol covered wipe over the cut at his arm, “You would have known she’s my wife,”

“Never thought of you being the marriage type,” Five leans forward to look around the corner, “Or to have a type for girls,”

“Well you haven’t seen me in seventeen years,” Vanya raises an eyebrow, Five rolling his eyes as he huffs.

“When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?”

“No,” Vanya answers, wiping away the blood on Fives arm,

“Nothing,” Five states, “Absolutely nothing. As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but, I did find something else,”

A pause, “The date it happens. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it,”

Vanyas lips part, hearing the shower faucet shut off, “You know what, it’s late, I have lessons early, and Y/N and I have errands to run, and I need sleep and I’m sure you do, too. We’ll talk again in the morning, okay? I promise,” She pauses, “I just, don’t want to drag Y/N into any of this,”

Five narrows his eyes, “You think she’d really believe you, anyway?”

Vanya turns to stare at him, Five watching her depart to where you sat on the bed, now in pajamas and towel squeezing the water from your hair,

“Hey,” You greet, as she began to undress, “What did he need to talk about?”

“Nothing,” Vanya smiles, moving up to lean across the bed to press a soft, short kiss to your lips, “I’ll tell you about it in the morning,”

“Okay,” You murmur, smiling as your eyes flicked between hers, “Hurry and get situated, you have lessons early tomorrow,”

Your wife smiles, leaving herself in a long shirt, before she slips underneath the covers, tugging on your arm so you shifted to press to her side, arm looping at her waist and head on her shoulder,

A beat of silence, “Thank you for being there for me today,” Vanya speaks, her fingers drawing circles at your arm, “Even though my family can be assholes,”

“Not all of them,” You lift your head, reaching up to pull Vanyas hair free of its ponytail, running your fingers through her locks, “Allison was super sweet, and Pogo, too,”

“Pogos always been like that,” Vanya shakes her head, “And Allison’s just making up for not talking to me in ten years,”

“Well they’re still your family,” You slide your hand down the side of her face, to cup the back of her neck, “Whether they’re assholes or not,” You tease, Vanya chuckling as you lean down, pressing your lips against hers, slowly,

. . .

“Y/N?” The quiet voice of your wife calls you to peer into the kitchen, where Vanya silently shut the front door behind her,

“Hey,” You greet, moving towards her with a smile, “How was the audition?”

You silently watch as Vanya sets down her violin case, looking up at you with a new grin on her face,

“You got it?” You guess, Vanya nodding with a short laugh, “You got first chair!?”

“I got it,” Vanya breathes, your arms throwing themselves around her shoulders as her own catch your waist, pulling you against her in an accepting embrace,

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” You bounce on your toes, leaning back to caress her face, pulling her forward for a kiss, her hand lifting to your head to keep you close to her,

She exhales against your lips, smiling in time with you, her eyes opening to see you grin,

“This deserves a celebrity dinner,” You state, moving to grab your jacket, “And we can call your siblings, and-,”

“Can we,” Vanya catches your arm, your brows pinching as you look at her from grabbing your hat, “Not tell them?” At your visible confusion, she shrugs, “I like this just being something between us,”

“Yeah,” You nod, breathlessly, “Yeah, sure,” You smile, Vanya exhaling before she moves forward again, pressing her lips against yours so the door shut behind you, your back pressing against the wood,

You giggle, arms sliding around her neck to pull her closer, where she breathlessly leans away, “Can we stay in?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” You murmur, tugging on her sleeve towards your shared bedroom, where Vanya smiles and drops her keys on the kitchen table.

#vanya hargreeves imagine #vanya hargreeves #vanya hargreeves x reader #Vanya hargreeves one shot #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #Diego hargreeves #five hargreeves

300 notes · View notes

lyranova · 3 years

Note

Heyooooo Lyraaaa 😘!!! I was wondering if um hehe👉👈😅, if you could make a yamichar fic where they accidentally traveled in time and accidentally meet their future child (or children lmao) lol😂, it's okay if you don't wanna do it 🙂 no pressure 😘

Children of the Future:

Chapter 1: Hikari

Of course Lei! I’m sorry this took so long IRL has been busy 😅! But i hope you like this, also I just realized you wanted Yamichar to be the ones who time travel, and instead i made it the child who goes back in time oops. But i hope this is ok! Also, Hikari belongs to the lovely @eme-eleff (thank you for letting me borrow her for this Ilysm 🥰💕!)

Edit: This is Chapter 1 of my new series ‘Children of the Future’, instead of reposting it I decided to edit it and reblog it haha!

Word Count: 1,701

Warnings: None

———

Yami couldn’t stop grumbling, he had been summoned by Julius to come to his office, he claimed there was something important he needed to see. Yami had been confused at first, but he wasn’t really allowed to disobey a summons from the Wizard King. So he walked through the halls that he knew like the back of his hand, deep in thought, when he saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eyes. He turned and noticed it was the Prickly Princess herself, Charlotte Roselei. He watched her look up in surprise at him and her face turned a shade of pink.

“ Y-Yami? What are you doing here?” She asked as she came to a stop, she hadn’t seen him for a while, since everyone had been training in order to battle the Spade Kingdom. She watched him tilt his head and do a half-shrug.

“ The Wizard King summoned me, said he had something important to show me. You?” He asked as he also came to a stop.

“ Same here, I wonder if he summoned the other Captains as well.” Charlotte said curiously as she folded her arms, it wasn’t unusual for Julius to call them suddenly, but when it did it usually meant trouble for the Kingdom.

“ I didn’t see any of them, and I don’t sense their Qi, so I think it’s just us here.” He told her with a thoughtful scowl, Charlotte hadn’t seen any of them either, which made this meeting even more curious.

“ C’mon, let’s not keep him waiting.” Yami said suddenly as he began to walk away, she blushed even more as her mind raced ‘H-He wants to walk there together?! Won’t that give people the wrong impression?!’ Her mind screamed, but she shook her head and followed behind him. They could always say they met outside the door or something.

Charlotte watched as Yami knocked on the door, they heard Julius say something on the other side to signal to them that they could enter. Yami pushed the door open, allowing Charlotte to walk inside first, and closed it behind them.

“ Ah good you’re both already here.” Julius said with a warm happy smile, Charlotte and Yami walked up to the desk. It was still hard to believe that the Wizard King was now back to his original self, they had gotten so used to seeing him younger that they would sometimes forget this was him.

“ Why are we here Julius?” Yami asked as he crossed his arms, he wasn’t really in the mood for chit chat, and he assumed Charlotte wasn’t either since she had a small scowl on her face as well. They were both trying to train their squads so they could face the Spade Kingdom, and this was distracting them from doing that.

“ Well,” he said with a sheepish laugh, that only made the two Captains scowl further. “ I went down stairs where we keep the forbidden magic items, and I stumbled across this portal. I don’t think it’s ever been used, anyway, I went down there looking to see if there may be an item to help me change back to my proper age. Well, instead I found her,” Julius moved out of the way and behind him sat a young girl around 19 years old.

She had long dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a small scowl on her face. Charlotte looked her up and down, she was wearing a deep blue top with a pair of dark brown pants, wrist length gloves, and dark knee length boots. But what caught her attention was the cloak she was wearing, Charlotte’s eyes widened as she looked at the insignia, it was a Black Bulls robe, she looked over at Yami and saw he recognized it too. But if he was surprised he didn’t let it show.

“ Why did you give some random kid my squads robe Julius?” Yami asked as he suddenly grabbed a cigarette and put it into his mouth.

“ I’m not just some random kid! Also, if you’re going to smoke it’s best to do it outside or, even better, stop smoking. It’s bad for you.” The young girl remarked as she stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and walked over to stand next to Julius’s desk.

Charlotte and Yami blinked, this kid had quite the mouth on her. But he did as she asked and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and put it back in it’s case. The young girl smiled in triumph, that's when Yami frowned. That smile, it looked familiar, but where had he seen it before?

“ Anytime I ask you to smoke outside you always ignore me, but when a child asks you too you listen and do it without a second thought.” Charlotte commented with a small laugh and a shake of her head, Yami rolled his eyes a bit, of course he was going to listen to a kid. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he could be a big softie when it came to kids. He looked over and noticed Charlotte had a small smile on her face, he paled slightly, that was the same smile the young girl wore just a moment ago.

“ Hey kid, what’s your name?” He asked, hoping beyond hope that his gut feeling was wrong, that her Qi wasn’t what he saw it to be. The young girl glanced over to Julius who nodded, she turned back to them, her head held high as she announced.

“ My name’s Hikari, Hikari Sukehiro.” Both Captains paled, Sukehiro? As in Yami Sukehiro?! Charlotte turned to look at him, he wasn’t able to hide the surprise on his face at this revelation.

She felt a small pang in her chest, as though someone had just plunged a dagger into it, he had a daughter? With another woman? She shook her head, they weren’t dating so what right did she have to be hurt and upset, at the most they were just colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. But it still hurt to think of him being with another woman, of him having a child with another woman.

“ This isn’t funny Julius.” Yami growled, he knew this wasn’t a joke, just from the way she stood he could tell she was his daughter, also from the way she had no problem telling him off about smoking. The only thing that confused him though, was why she had the same smile as Charlotte.

“ It isn’t a joke Yami, she came here from the future, at least according to her. I had Marx use his memory magic on her, everything she has told me is the truth and her memories prove it.” Julius said as he leaned back against his desk, Charlotte couldn’t help but glare at him slightly.

“ Why did you call me here then you majesty? Just so you could have a witness in case Yami tried to murder you?” She asked, a little more ice to her tone then she had intended. It didn’t go unnoticed. Julius blinked a bit before looking over at Hikari.

“ Um, I think you need to explain your parentage a little more, Hikari.” He stated with a nervous laugh, the young girl nodded.

“ Yes sir. It’s true, my father is Yami Sukehiro. But my mother,” she turned to look at the blonde haired woman. “ is Charlotte Roselei.”

Charlotte blinked at Hikari. Her? She was her mother?! No, no, no, that made no sense! How could she be this girl's mother? She and Yami weren’t even dating! There was no way Hikari was their daughter!

“ That makes sense,” Yami said suddenly, she whipped around to face him, her face brighter than the sun, and she gaped like a fish out of water.

“ H-How does this make sense?!” She suddenly shouted, she watched a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

“ Her Qi first off; it’s a mixture of mine and yours which is why I didn’t recognize it at first. Second, the way she carries herself is the same as you, her eyes are a similar shade although they’re a little lighter than yours, and her smile, heh, that smile; it’s exactly the same as yours.” He said the last part so softly, so warmly, it made Charlotte not only turn redder, but it made her heart melt. He...noticed how she smiled? Of course he did, he was very observant. But what she didn’t expect to see was how his smirk had changed into a warm loving smile, how his eyes had softened.

Charlotte had to be dreaming, she just had too!

“ So, umm...until we can get Hikari back to her own time, she’s going to have to stay with one of you or, if you want my opinion, both of you. Since she is your child and it’s probably what she’s used to, I’d suggest you all find somewhere to stay that’s close enough to each of your respective headquarters. I think it’ll be easier for Hikari to adjust that way.” Julius said with an innocent smile, both Captains couldn’t help but frown, was he trying to subtly get them to move in together? Yami suddenly sighed.

“ Fine, I guess we really don’t have much of a choice huh. Especially since that was an order.” Yami stated, causing Charlotte to gap at him even more, he wasn’t even going to try and convince the Wizard King that them moving in together was a very bad idea?! But as much as Charlotte wanted to argue, she could tell by the tone of the Wizards king's voice that it was, in fact, an order. She also couldn’t disagree, it would probably be better for the young girl if they all did live together. She suddenly chuckled humorlessly at the situation.

Finding out she had a daughter and now being ordered to move in with the man she was in love with who, by the way, was completely oblivious to her feelings for him? This was not how she was expecting this meeting to go!

——

Ah i’m sorry if this isn’t very good 😅! I couldn’t really think of how to end this but I hope some of you enjoyed this and I apologize if you didn’t! Also I hope you like it Lei 🥺💕! Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#asks #lei🌸#black clover #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction #yamichar #yami x charlotte #charlotte x yami #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #black clover yami #black clover charlotte

84 notes · View notes

gukieoppa · 4 years

Text

not again | pt.1

➢ summary: he wanted a challenge, a good, innocent fuck, so why did his heart race at the sight of her?

➢ genre: romance, following angst and fluff, (as of now) no nsfw planned, college au

➢ pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader

➢ warnings: cursing, fluff, mentions of sex, body image insecurities

➢ note: i did this instead of homework and paying attention to class lmao. also it’s only 1.55k so i’m sorry if you wanted a longer chapter but expect short chapters from me because i’m not an excellent writer. i also decided to post this today because i’m going on trip to the beach for three days and i don’t know when i’ll have time to write. oof.

← teaser & pt.2 →

◇ ◇ ◇

Ever since you met Jeon Jungkook, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. His face was the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes. You finally understood why he was so popular, but that didn’t mean you would associate yourself with him even further.

Truthfully, you didn’t go to the library after you talked to Jungkook. You went straight back to your dorm, catching a glimpse of his figure as you walked to the building. His figure, though, wasn’t alone. A silhouette of, what you assumed to be, a girl was beside him, their lips locked. You grunted and felt sickened by the sight, reminding yourself that it was better to have distance.

Jungkook, on the other hand, wanted to get closer to you, but he was afraid. Evidently by his title, he didn’t do relationships, but when it came to you, he felt something different: a feeling of need and possessiveness. That was why, when you were out of his sight, he pulled the closest girl who was ogling him to the nearest bathroom.

A good fuck was the only thing Jungkook felt he could cope with.

◇ ◇ ◇

Park Hyejin: you loved to hate her. She was your dorm mate, best friend, and so-called stylist. She’d always wanted to major in fashion, but her parents never allowed her, saying it wasn’t a stable job choice. That led her into the business major and to meeting you.

◇ ◇ ◇

You saw a brunette sitting on a bench, crying her eyes out. Seeing as you had just had a pretty shitty day as well, you approached her.

“Sky looks nice,” you commented, standing beside the bench with your arms crossed.

The sky was plain. Nothing but smooth, grey clouds filled the sky. Though the sky itself was dull, the red and orange leaves made up for it. The autumn leaves desperately hung onto the tree branches, some blown off at the slightest breeze.

You heard the girl let out a choked laugh, “Sure does.”

“Bad day?” You asked, looking over at her. She nodded, her brunette hair bouncing at the movement.

She wore a cream, knit cardigan atop of a black mock neck that was tucked into a brown, plaid, pleated skirt. Her shoes were basic combat boots, but they finished the outfit with a punch.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed to be sulking on campus?” You teased, seeing as you were only in an oversized hoodie and sweats.

She let out a quiet sigh, “I guess, but what better way to display my fashion if I can’t pursue it?”

“May I give some feedback on the outfit?” You asked, feeling as if her outfit was missing a piece.

The girl sat up, improving her posture, “Please do.”

Your hand rested on your hip, “Though the overall outfit is gorgeous and much better than I could ever put together, I feel like there’s something missing.” Your finger rested on your chin as you thought. Then, it came to you, “A hat! Yes, that’s what's missing. Specifically, a beige beret. If you don’t like hats, though, you could put in those long hair clips things on the side of your head. Know what I mean?”

She perked up at your suggestion, “That’s actually a great idea! Are you secretly into fashion?”

That made you laugh.

“If I were into fashion, I wouldn’t wear the same pair of sweats every other day,” she grimaced in disgust.

“I should style you, then,” she smiled.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you suddenly realized that the pair of you hadn’t properly introduced yourselves. “By the way, I’m Y/N L/N. You are?”

“Park Hyejin,” she smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You shook her hand, a warm smile on both of your faces.

◇ ◇ ◇

“You talked to Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook?” She laughed loudly.

“Yes, I talked to him, but he approached me first,” you frowned at the girl you called your best friend.

“Doesn’t matter! You still talked to him,” she smirked, “So, how was it? Talking to the Jungkook?”

“Quite boring, not going to lie. We just made small talk, and, I kid you not, after talking for about five minutes, he suddenly said that he needed to leave,” you said, an unimpressed look plastered onto your face.

“Only five minutes? You must’ve been boring,” she snorted.

You glared at her, “Me? Boring? Never, but I did see him devouring some girl’s face when I was coming back to the dorms.”

“Damn, he moves fast,” the two of you shared a mutual laugh.

◇ ◇ ◇

Jungkook was already on his third bottle of beer when Jimin burst into the house, whining about the lack of sex he had because of homework.

Park Jimin was one of Jungkook’s closest friends, apart from Kim Taehyung. Jimin also enjoyed one night stands, but he never went to the extent of Jungkook. Instead of spending every Friday night partying and getting drunk off his ass, Jimin would occasionally spend his time at the dance studio practicing.

“Just pick up a random girl,” Jungkook slurred.

Jimin looked over at his intoxicated friend, “Drinking already? What happened?”

Jungkook let out a sarcastic laugh, “What do you mean? Can’t I drink when I want?”

“Alright, so this isn’t about that girl I saw you talking to this afternoon,” Jungkook’s head snapped over to look at the ash grey haired man.

“What?” The brunette seethed.

“Haven’t seen you talk to a girl like that in a while,” Jimin sighed, “What’s up? You know you can tell me.”

“Just leave me alone, hyung,” Jungkook groaned.

“She'll be good for you,” Jimin whispered before leaving the maknae to himself.

◇ ◇ ◇

“Taehyung,” you shouted, jogging over to your friend and study buddy. You hopped onto his back, arms wrapping around his torso, eliciting an “oof” from him.

“Y/N/N,” he looked over his shoulder to smile at you.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while,” you pouted.

“We literally saw each other like 5 days ago,” he said in disbelief.

“That’s 5 days too long.”

You hopped off of the blonde’s back and walked in front of him, “Hyejin dressed me up again,” he let out a small laugh, “Hey! What do you think? The outfit itself is gorgeous, but on me, it looks like, well, it just looks bad. I feel like I’m a walking potato.”

You were very self-conscious about your body, seeing as your best friend had the body of a model. It wasn’t that you didn’t go to the gym and work hard to have your desired body, it was that your expectations became harder to achieve as each day passed.

“If you’re a walking potato, then what are the other girls? Moving trash cans?”

You gasped and slapped his arm, “You can’t say that! That’s rude.”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” he huffed, “I can’t deny it. You look fucking hot in that outfit,” he bit his lip and let his eyes roam your body.

“Ey! Eyes up here, buddy,” you slapped the side of his head lightly, earning a chuckle from him. “But seriously, are you sure I don’t look fat?”

“Y/N/N, you’re not fat. You’re gorgeous on the inside and out. I’m being completely honest right now,” you looked at your feet, “You need to treat yourself better. You don’t see all the jealous glares girls send your way because you always take the breath away from other guys.”

You gave him a weak smile, “Thanks, Tae. Love you.”

“Love you, too, princess,” he teased.

Laughing and shaking your head, you grab his arm, “Do you have time to help me study tonight?”

“Study?” He smirked, “What kind of studying are you talking about?”

You gagged and pushed him away, “Never mind! I can study on my own.”

“No, wait! Come back, babe,” he chased after you as you ran away from him.

“Be gone,” you say as you get into a fighting stance.

Then in perfect sync, you both yell, “Thot!”

◇ ◇ ◇

Hand in hand, you and Taehyung approached the double story home.

“Fair warning, it might be messy on the inside,” Taehyung spoke up.

“You live here?” You asked, flabbergasted.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “But I have two roommates who, by the way, are my best friends. They’re almost always horny, though.”

“Aren’t you always horny?” You smirked.

“Would you like to find out?” He winked, nudging your shoulder with his.

Your nose scrunched in disgust, “Gross,” he laughed, “We have work to do and not a lot of time, so let’s get it!”

You skipped over to the door, waiting for your friend to unlock the door for you. When he reached where you were, he pulled the door open without unlocking it.

“You don’t lock the door? That’s so stupid,” you scolded him.

“Oh hush. My roommates are probably home already,” he spoke as he walked into the house.

The smell of beer stung your nose, and you winced in disgust. You looked around for the source of the odor to find bottles of finished beer sitting on a table. Beside that table, though, was the culprit responsible for the placing of the empty bottles.

235 notes · View notes

cryinginthebackseat · 4 years

Text

initials t.c.

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC

Words: 7.299 (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary: Tobias Carrick makes Claire an offer she can’t refuse.

Warnings: 50% plot, 50% smut, swear-a-thon, blasphemy

Author’s Note: when the book first introduced us to tobias carrick, the first thing that hit my mind was “okay, but that dude is like the carbon copy of jesse williams and that’s hot” but then, once it reveals who he is and what’s his role in the book i went “interestinggggggg” cause you know, i’m a sucker for morally grey characters and all, and i’m not even ashamed to admit it. also, carrick is shaping up to be such an interesting character with each chapter and maybe one day- okay, maybe this sounds like a pipe dream- but one day, i hope he can be a li (let a girl dream plz) lmao

also if anyone’s interested, i made a PLAYLIST to accompany reading the fic.

the title is inspired by serge gainsbourg’s initials bb

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve lain with the devil Cursed god above Forsaken heaven

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Whenever Claire thinks about Tobias Carrick, admittedly, unfortunately, tragically, she always thinks about his eyes first before remembering what a colossal pain in the ass he is.

It always comes in that order. Like the number 3 always comes before 4, like the seawater dragging back from the shoreline before a tsunami occurs, like pouring milk before the cereal (she honestly didn’t get what the fuss is about until one day Elijah cried ‘oh, hell no you don’t, satan!‘ one morning and proceeded to give her bullet points why pouring the milk before the cereal is considered a sin and more of an abomination than Nephilims’ existence and that there’s a higher probability that she’s a psycho for being a ‘milk first’ kind of person). So apparently, Claire’s a psycho now which explains so many aspects- but she digresses and the point is, the reaction is uncontrollable and she high-key hates how she can’t control her goddamn mind most of the time.

The point is, she needs to stop thinking about him to begin with.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Claire Castelnuovo was born in the summer, under the sign of Gemini. Marilyn Monroe once said that stands for intellect, being a Gemini, but she was too blissfully unaware of this guerdon that she devoted her adolescent years to being outdoors instead. Too many days she spent trampling along the cornfields with her cousins until the skies faded out with brilliant purple-tinged amber and she was carrying a piece of the sun in her skin and smelled like one, stuffing wildflowers inside her boots as she walked around the neighborhood with her dad’s old stethoscope, napping in a hammock with Oasis’ All Around the World on repeat. By the time she hit 15, her black strands had turned brown from repeated sun exposure. She loved it.

But it was a different time, a different place. Somewhere that only exists on the margins of her memories, lost and hidden.

Now, Claire prefers the night.

It’s 9:30 pm when she arrives at a hotel bar in downtown Boston. A newly christened establishment which has somehow become a regular spot for Hemingway’s enthusiasts once the Boston Globe wrote an article about their Hemingway Daiquiri and how, as they wrote it, ‘probably the only place that’s brave and crazy enough to adhere to the 1930s original recipe’ and bourgeois party birds at wee hours during the weekend.

Her eyes are gritty, dry and strange. Her mind’s much worse for the wear- she feels like shit, like in the middle of watching that scene from The Green Mile shit when all is hopeless and you feel like walking out of the theater, but you’ve spent your last savings just to buy the ticket, so you decide to stick through it.

Claire makes a beeline for the bar, tries to flag down the bartender. She orders an Old Fashioned, making sure to specify to double it because she’s not a regular here and he’s not Reggie and that’s how she’s been taking her drink for years.

She knows well deep in her bones that she should be somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, somewhere where Tim Mcgraw often plays from the subpar speakers, and the rustic wooden bar countertop is gouging and discoloring from the cheap household cleaners and alcohol stains, and her friends are cramming together in the same booth in the back, reveling and laughing until they close the bar down and make a mess all over. Perhaps it’s a mistake coming here, where no one’s a familiar face and the drinks are a tad overpriced for her budget.

But then, perhaps this is exactly what she needs; the unfamiliarity, the visceral feeling knowing that she doesn’t belong here, where no one knows her name and the huge deal of weight she’s currently carrying on her shoulders. Perhaps, she can’t face her friends after what happened, after what Esme has done. Shit, how could any of this happen? Claire knows this all on Esme’s, but her guilt has grown hopelessly tangled with her anxiety. She’s her intern, for fuck’s sake, Claire’s supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

Man, where’s Declan Nash when she feels like punching someone in the face?

Claire makes the mistake of drinking her drink too quickly, because it hasn’t been ten minutes and she’s drained half of the content. Then she reaches for her phone in her bag, fiddles with it, absent-minded, equal parts bored before then settles on watching the band performing Art Pepper’s You Go To My Head and immediately thinks of that time she accidentally dropped her brother’s saxophone in a moment of her rather graceless, wine-soaked self with the whole family present.

Someone plops down on the empty stool next to her. Claire’s now scrolling through her phone- again, bored. Sienna commented on the post Elijah shared to the group chat with a few unnecessary-yet-totally-necessary emojis to the already convoluted series of texts and Claire only reads them in silence, not only because her friends’ texting behaviors are too chaotic for her to follow sometimes but she’s not really feeling like talking to anyone right now.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Famous last words.

Claire freezes in her seat. Her phone’s still glowing in her hand, alighting her features. She recognizes that voice- too well, that is and it’s enough to set off her flight-or-fight response.

She glances up from her phone, preparing for the worst.

Well, what’s presented before her is literally the worst.

“Of all the gin joints…” she says once her eyes find Tobias Carrick sitting next to her, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled-up, a few buttons undone, reeking of smoke, soap and antiseptic with a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

She should have gone to Donahue’s instead.

“Evening to you too, Castelnuovo. Drinking your dinner tonight, I see?”

“What, this? No, this is breakfast. 100% daily value of alcohol and pretty much nothing else. I mean, it’s not the weekend without a bad case of hangover and an aspirin snowglobe in the morning, am I right? You know, like a glass of aspirin? Not a literal snowglobe?” she blabbers, realizing just so by the time she hears him snort. Claire chokes down another sip to shut her mouth up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m about to commit first-degree murder and burn this whole place to the ground,” he drawls, the ever goddamn sarcastic. “What do you think? I’m trying to get dru-”

“No, I mean what are you doing here, of all places? Can’t you get drunk somewhere else?” she interrupts, her midwest accent does funny things to the vowels and consonants- something that only happens whenever she’s in distress, or at least according to Jackie.

“Last time I heard, this joint’s still owned by the Hilton, not a certain junior member of the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook hospital.”

“Dude, what do you think of the H in Claire H. Castelnuovo stands for?” Deadpan, trying to keep up with the rolling sarcasm, she retorts. He smirks.

“Horatio?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she mutters, mid-eye-roll, mid-snickering.

He chuckles, his voice rich and smoky amidst the late-night swing and distant chatters. Carrick doesn’t leave, of course, typically him- if those anecdotes Ethan told her has taught her anything about his character, that is- defying everything, scheming his way to the top, the embodiment of ‘those devilish boys with their heavenly eyes’ type your mother warns you about.

Not that the latter is relevant.

“Or what?” His mouth twitches but there’s a hard, challenging light in his eyes that she knows too well by now.

“Or I’m leaving.“ She shoots him a glare. He’s testing her patience- again, like it’s his finesse. Some things never change, it seems.

“Come on, Castelnuovo, don’t be a sourpuss. The night is young and I can promise you, the last thing I am is a horrible drinking buddy.”

With a touch of irony, she replies: “I’m sure. I bet you asked your friends to fill out a questionnaire every time you went out with them, did you?”

Carrick hums.

“You’re funny.” But he says it in the same tone that someone might say Jesus fuck, you’re probably one of the most frustrating creatures I’ve ever laid eyes on. Also, because the next thing he says is: “A little rough around the edges, but funny nonetheless.”

“That makes one of us then.”

Carrick frowns, which is kind of a surprise because she’s half expected him to flash her that signature cheeky grin of his.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation here. I know we haven’t really seen eye-to-eye with each othe-”

Claire snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “That, doctor, is an understatement of the fucking century.”

“Okay so, we’re like Tom and Jerry but sans the background music and a naive little duckling running around calling one of us his momma, but I feel like now’s the time to call out a temporary truce between us.” A beat, then: “I heard about what happened with the intern.”

Something flashes across her face- and Carrick must have noticed it, because his face does this odd thing- it softens, even for a moment. She hates it. He’s not supposed to be looking at her like that, not supposed to see her at her weakest state or saved her ass- And Jesus, why does she have to be indebted to Tobias Carrick, of all people- But god forbid, the last thing she’ll ever do is crying in front of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, barely audible, trying to temper her fluctuated emotions.

“Then don’t. We can talk about anything else or fall into some sort of endless, meaningless platitudes. Whichever will work.” As if sensing Claire’s lingering hesitation, he adds. “Tell you what, to sweeten the offer, your next drinks are on me.”

She assesses him for a long minute, eyes narrowing. She’s shaking her head, but her mouth, as if against her will, instead says: “Careful, Carrick, there’s a chance I’ll be abusing that offer and run you dry.”

"Hey, if you want to butcher your liver so bad, don’t stop on my account,” he says. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure to save your ass again this time around. Pro bono.”

Claire looks as if she’s just swallowed a dead rat. “Thanks, but no thanks. Death seems more like an appealing choice.”

“Well, I stopped death from interfering then, I’ll stop it again.” Carrick winks, she pretends to gag again yet remains still in her seat, so Carrick waves at the bartender for their order- she orders for a refill and he, a martini and Claire is this close from asking 'shaken or stirred?’ but then remembers who he is and immediately washes the question down with her drink.

“You know, if anyone told me weeks ago that I’d be having a drink with you tonight, I probably would have socked them.“

Carrick is in the middle of lighting his cigarette, but laughs instead. “The Times They Are a-Changin’, as Bob Dylan said.” A puff of smoke escapes his mouth, curling around his fingers. Claire instinctively looks away. “Which reminds me of that one time your mentor sang Ballad of A Thin Man on the fucking subway when we were 20.”

She swivels her head to his direction, on the verge of choking on her drink. “Hold on, hold on, Ethan Jonah Ramsey sings?”

“Give him a dare he couldn’t refuse and a few shots of whiskey, and I promise you he’ll sing like Sinatra on crack.” He grins, his eyes are all crinkled and bright; she thinks that means he’s genuinely amused. “Ah, good times. We were like- wait, who was it he’d like to say we’re like again?”

A small smile pulls at her lips. “Bert and Ernie.”

“Jesus, he really fucking compares us to some Sesame Street characters, huh?” She laughs at that, loud and bright. He does the same. “Personally, I’d always say we were like Butch and Sundance back then- rebels with a cause, a band of misfits, trying to leave our marks on the world. You know those types. We were young, we wanted so much- I still do. I mean, let’s be real, whoever’s wanted to be defeated at their own game?”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, not quite a frown.

“Nobody,” Claire concurs, hating herself for it. “But was it worth it? Betraying the closest thing you had to a brother or a lover…” Carrick coughs on his smoke from the latter. “or whatever in the process just to get what you wanted?” Claire was obviously aiming for that brash, hard-hitting jab, but it lands gloriously too soft.

The bartender finally places their ordered drinks down on the bar. Carrick reaches for it, taking a careful swig, then sets his glass down. He takes a deep breath.

"It’s nothing personal. It never was. I never considered him as my rival.”

“Yeah, but by doing whatever you did, you’ve made an enemy out of him,” she counters. “Look, Carrick, I know we live in a dog-eat-dog world and I know being good sometimes doesn’t get the job done. Perhaps Machiavelli was right. Perhaps, when necessary, you have to be ruthless, dissembling and manoeuvring- what did he say again? ‘The end justifies the means’? But if any worthwhile end can justify the means to attain it, if everyone outright surrenders to their darker side, then what’s left of our humanity?”

For an interminable moment, there is only silence. He simply stares at her, as if she’s a walking, talking Rubik’s cube he can’t solve or a book that he has opened and now he’s got to know so much more and she feels pinned under those warm irises, uneasy.

Suddenly, his mouth begins to take shape; the corners hike up, stretch and then he does the unexpected.

The bastard fucking laughs.

“Excuse me?!” she spits, white-hot anger lacing each word. Carrick laughs harder- the audacity- despite Claire’s growing razor’s edge stare. “Did you just laugh at me? I was being fucking seriou-”

“Sorry, sorry.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his left eye. “I was just remembering Harper’s words. She’s right, you really are on the side of the angels, aren’t you?”

She points at him with her glass, snarling. “And you, mister, are the devil himself with a medical degree and an egg head- and I don’t mean the slang for a highly academic person.”

“Ouch,” Carrick says out loud, still kind of laughing, borderline frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Damn straight. Though you have a lot to apologize for.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about that one patient I stole under your nose?”

“The North remembers, ser,” she says, mean-spirited.

“Then does the North remembers that I saved her life?”

“Oh, so you’re discrediting the efforts of the other doctors that helped you make the cure?”

“Alright, alright. You win.” Carrick holds up his hands, the universal gesture of defeat and takes one final drag of his cigarette. He stubs it out, all the while keeping his gaze on her.

“So, how exactly can I make it up to you?“

Claire blinks- once, twice, thrice, realizing his intent. His voice drops an octave and he’s leaning in, close enough for her to notice the constellations of freckles splaying across his face and the way his brown eyes glinted like two shots of whiskey under a stream of light, intense and all-consuming. She feels her mind races, her brains feel as if they underwent a short-circuit and get caught on fire, and the fact that her mind’s on the precipice of exploring the idea is not helping.

A burst of laughter erupts from her throat, not that it’s funny- there’s nothing funny about the situation, but someone ought to diffuse this shift of tension between them, or that was her aim, at least.

“What, you wanna pay me back?” she asks, trying to keep her voice from cracking but failing miserably. Fingers trembling against her glass as she chugs nearly a quarter of her drink in one go.

He notices that.

"A Lannister always pays his debts, does he? If you think that I owe you one, then I’ll gladly pay.” His eyes flick back to her face, searing into her. The air crackles between them. The band is playing a different song now, a sound that only exists on the margin of her attention. If they’re in, say a mid 2000s rom-com movie, someone would probably interrupt this moment and save her from this. But this isn’t a movie.

Claire licks her lips, a candid reaction which encourages him to inch closer- or is it her? She can’t tell anymore. Tracing odd patterns on the palm of her hand with his finger and oh god, this is Carrick, the bane of her fucking existence, she’d shoot him first before she kisses him. But something about the prospect of fucking this bastard twists her insides deliciously into a confused mess.

“How? By fucking me?” she inquires, feigning scandalized- all that Catholic guilt bullshit.

He grins, all-teeth and wolfish and shrugs as if they’re talking about his life insurance policy or shit. “Well, that’s the idea.”

“But you don’t even like me.” It should come out as I don’t even like you, but even she knows that’ll be just another lie she tells.

“On the contrary, I enjoy our rivalry far more than I should, Castelnuovo,” he purrs and places a hand on her knee. Her throat bobs. She’s wearing a skirt, it didn’t seem important then, but now his hand feels warm against her skin, dangling on the edge of impropriety. Like gravity, all it takes is a little push for him to cross that line.

“I should be disliking the way you talk to me, challenging me and putting me on the back foot every goddamn time. I should be focusing on taking you down a peg, but the more I see you, the more I realize you have an attractive kind of power. And I’m just one man. And if there’s anything I learned, the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”

But then his movement suddenly ceases. Claire almost asks why.

"However…”

“What?” she stares up at him, eyes wide, breath hitching.

“However if you only accept alcohol as the currency for transactions, then I’ll tell the bartender to get us another round instead,“ he tells her, offering her one last chance to back out from this, from making this mistake with him.

Claire stares into her drink, actually mulling this over. Her mind tells her no, but the other part- the alcohol-infused part of her mind- whispers otherwise. She imagines if Ethan or any of her friends are here, they would probably grab her shoulder and shake the living hell out of her for even reconsidering his offer.

But then again, intelligence, alcohol and desperation have always had a bad history of getting along together.

“What about June?” Claire asks against her better judgement, after a long, considerable pause. Carrick raises a confused brow.

“What about her?”

“I thought you guys…” she trails off, makes a face, feeling all-kind of flustered and aroused and wow, she’s really doing this, huh? “I mean, I don’t know- I don’t wanna get in between you guys.”

“Nah. It was only a three time thing, but there’s never been anything between us.” He chuckles at Claire’s askance look. “If you don’t believe me, you can fact-check it with the woman herself,” Carrick adds, looking at her dead-on with his eyes like he wants to get the message across.

She regards him silently for a long second, and maybe she’s a touch drunk now, maybe the bartender put something in her drink, or maybe she just needs to blow off some steam after what’s been happening in these past few weeks and Carrick happens to be a decent warm body for the occasion, but Claire finds herself shifting closer.

"Then I want you to pay me back.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” she answers, more sure this time, more determined.

Her nose bumps his, his breath fanning across her face all the while Carrick’s slightly pushing her skirt up, letting his fingertips travel higher. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her eyes and lips, checking for her reaction. There is no inhibition here, not anymore. People might be watching- heck, they could be already watching and it terrifies her that she doesn’t give a damn about it.

“But if you tell anyone about this, I swear to god… ” she warns and a shadow of mirth passes across his eyes, making her almost regretting this. Almost.

“Claire, darling.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name and her stomach does a tango. “Your secret is safe with me.“ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He gets them a room in the hotel, it’s on the twentieth floor. Carrick handles the accommodation- he can afford it, apparently, which is not really surprising and the nuisating check-in procedure while Claire only waits in the lobby like a beautiful, agitated china doll amidst the turbulent sea the whole time until he comes back, flashes the room key at her and beckons her to follow.

She goes ahead of him, but he catches up. His body heat sends her anxiety rocketing sky-high through the roof as they walk next to each other, hands briefly brushing against one another but she ignores that (or at least she tries).

They are silent in the elevator, they are silent even once they reach the designated floor and walk down the hall to their room where the dim and shadowed lights follow their steps like vultures.

Carrick holds open the door for her and she enters, taking in the windows and the striking view of Boston skyline peeking behind the curtains, the TV and the queen-sized bed. The latter does nothing to assuage the anticipation that’s bubbling in the pit of her stomach, by the way.

Claire hears him shut the door, locking both bolts. She peers at him over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. Their eyes meet, neither speaks. He’s taking off his black peacoat, back against the door, he’s looking at her as if wanting her is his full-time occupation and the realizations comes in like a mule kick, how that tiny voice inside her head, the one that tells her that this is a bad idea and she’s better off leaving never comes.

The room is not considerably huge (with $110 per night, you would have expected you’d get a bigger room), he could easily have her in six large steps, yet he stands there. Sizing her up, smirking rather devilishly, handsomely as if challenging her to make the first move. It’s another fucking game with him. A display of power, waiting who would fall first.

Claire finally turns around to face him. With a renowned determination, she removes her coat, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. Her blouse follows next and her skirt, which she tugs it oh so slowly down her legs.

Carrick’s eyes widen, if she doesn’t know better, she thinks he’s speechless. He takes a deep breath, his gaze religiously following every movement as she twirls around once more to unhook her bra. His jaw clenches and unclenches. He’s having a hard time keeping himself in check which she takes an immense pleasure in. Claire just wants to see the man squirm for a change, even if she has to shed every article of clothing she wears.

By the time she slips off of her underwear, she is breathing raggedly. He hasn’t yet approached her so she crawls onto the bed, lying on her back with one elbow props her up, legs crossed. She kicks off her heels, rolls down her stockings with a bit of that noir come-hither, Lauren Bacall-esque heavy bedroom eyes.

Finally, Carrick steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away, like a target, filling her line of sight. The tension in the room is hot enough to send the thermometer reaching its maximum limit and she’s burning, burning, burning right through the core.

Claire cranes her head up to meet his gaze, noticing the way he’s drinking in her body like a pirate ogling a bottle of rum. High-strung, tense, Carrick lowers his head to her, his fingers carding through her long hair. Dimness consumes him raw, his silhouette is starting to find its place amongst the shadows except for his eyes. Never does the fire in his eyes falter, merely alight.

They are already nose-to-nose when Claire suddenly raises her hand over his lips. He withdraws from her, looking confused and hot and bothered.

“Take a seat over there, will you?” She motions to the settee near the bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He smirks, but she can see his bravado if faltering. “Ordering me around in the bed now, are we?”

“Didn’t you say tonight is about you making it up to me?”

“Touche, touche.” Carrick straightens his posture and makes his way to the settee across from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat given the growing issue in his pants.

With eyes still trained to his, Claire cups her own breast, fingers pinching her pebbled nipple before the same hand travels lower down her stomach, her thighs. Carrick leans forward in his seat, obviously liking where this is going before Claire slowly and teasingly part her legs for him to see.

A surprised groan escapes him.

“Jesus, Claire,” Carrick hisses. “Fuck, I didn’t know you’re a goddamn tease.”

She doesn’t bother replying to him, but a winning grin finds its way across her face as she lays on her back, her shame and modesty are distant, knees pulled up so he can have a clear view of her. With two fingers, she runs them along her folds, dragging them slowly up to her clit. Claire imagines they are his fingers- which once upon a time would have horrified her, but tonight, as she repeats the motion over and over, knowing that he’s sitting there, watching her without being able to get his hands on her, she decides to submit to this newfound fantasy.

A rustle pulls her back to reality. He’s undoing his own pants, palming his cock, runs his fingers over the leaking head.

A low moan catches in her throat at that, her gaze snapping up from his erection to his face where his irises have darkened and pupils dilated. He wants to show her, that’s he’s as depraved as her when it comes to wanting, that he fucking wants her and in spades and she fails to think like a normal human being anymore.

Claire uses that image to work on herself harder, faster, feeling the intense pressure beginning to build beneath her fingers. She’s so wet now, despite him being able to see that, she wants him to hear it as well as she uses her idle hand to tap against herself. Carrick growls, his pace matching the rhythm she’s setting.

She slips her fingers inside her, drops her head back against the mattress and bites a loud moan that threatens to escape her lips. Flushing scarlet all over her abdomen, her breasts and up to her neck. Her blood thumping louder than bombs in her ears, her breaths begin to come in gasps.

Another fast and hard thrust from fingers, and Claire finds herself sighing his name.

“Tobias…”

And every last bit of his self-restraint snaps.

In just a blink of an eye, Carrick is already on his feet, grabs her waist, harshly, and tugs her down onto the edge of the bed where he’s now kneeling before her. He doesn’t bother with the teasings or soft kisses or caresses, and even before Claire has the time to register what’s happening, he crushes his face between her parted legs and eats her out.

She gasps, high and fleeting, twisting the bed sheet between her fists while his tongue flicks over her, moving back up, back down, lapping along her folds in the same motions she showed him with her hand, how she likes it. Claire forgets how to breathe. It just occurs to her just how arousing the sight of him on his knees like this, sending her mind hitchhiking into outer space.

“Oh, fuck.” She breathes, back arching on the bed with a drawn-out moan. “Fuck, Tobias!” Her hips gyrate over his mouth and she presses her heels against his shoulder blades. She’s so close. All she needs is a little push to send her careening into oblivion and it seems that Carrick can sense it because he brings two digits to her entrance and slides easily inside her, setting a ruthless pace.

With her hands reaching out to the back of his head, Claire cries out his name and trembles violently. Encouraged, Carrick curves his fingers inside her, hitting that exact spot that finally undoes her as she comes, long and hard, around his mouth and fingers- the kind of orgasm that you can feel deep in your bones- and watches as fireworks dance behind her lids.

When she finally comes down from her high, everything is hazy. It’s like waking up from a deep slumber after a decadent soak in a scented bath and she loses all orientation, until she feels him nipping the inside of her thighs. She hisses, glances down, heavy-lidded eyes finding Carrick is leaving bruises after bruises all over her skin like some kind of a lewd memento of his work, like he wants her to remember this the next time she wakes up in her own bed and he’s not there.

"Are you trying to turn me into a Na'vi, doctor?” She asks, still kinda breathless, feeling surprisingly conversational despite having just experienced, if not, one of the best orgasms in her life. He smiles against her thigh and withdraws from her, only after her thighs are sufficiently bruised enough, licks his fingers clean and stands up at the end of the bed.

“Maybe. You’d make a cute blue extraterrestrial creature, though,” he replies cheekily, then undoes the button of his shirt, showcasing his naked torso.

Claire feels her cheeks heating up again, but forces herself to stare; eyes following his pectoral muscles, down to the toned lines of his abdomen while he slides off of his pants. The man is one fine specimen, alright, and he knows- smug bastard- and she thinks it’s such a shame that Carrick is… well, Carrick. If the man learns how to shut up for one minute or avoid trying to sabotage everyone’s career at Edenbrook altogether, maybe, just maybe, she’d consider him.

“But honestly, I just wanted to hear you say my name again,” Carrick continues, crawling his way up to her, pulling her out of her musings. He settles between her thighs. His lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe while his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipple. Claire shivers. Nails scraping along his skin, raising angry marks that would certainly be there tomorrow.

When they kiss, it’s so good that she can’t help but curl her toes. He kisses her like he’s trying to steal her breath or her name. She can taste herself in his mouth, which sparks so many feelings inside her. Her mind’s foggy, sweat pooling on her forehead. Carrick is but shoves his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her, biting, sucking and she leans hard into the kiss, retaliates by scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. It spurs him on. Making his cock twitch against her thigh and Claire decides she can’t wait anymore.

Claire rolls her hips at him. He takes the hint and rolls over to grab a condom from his pants. Then he’s back on top of her, his weight and heat crushing her most deliciously and brings her body further up the bed with him; she drapes her legs around his hips, hands gripping his arms. Her lust and anticipation collaborate to the point of near madness.

Carrick nips the taut line of her jaw and drives himself into her.

They both groan in unison.

“Oh, fuck.” Carrick mumbles between shaky breaths, his face pressed against her throat. “Fucking hell, Claire, you feel so warm.”

Claire, on the other hand, goes rigid under him. Her mouth hangs open and her world narrows down to the feeling of his cock inside her and the pleasure that builds up again in her abdomen.

This is happening, she thinks, he’s inside her and it feels so amazing. She might as well be crazy for agreeing to do this with him in the first place, but the promise of the thrill beats the doubts.

He starts slow, just the smallest fraction of hips, gently thrusting back and forth in shallow motions. She whines, frustrated and impatient, raising her own hips to meet his, but Carrick’s weight pins her onto the mattress and she can’t fucking move.

“F-faster,” Claire stammers, her molars grinding like toothache.

The bastard smirks, like he’s been anticipating the word coming out of her mouth.

“Beg for it.” His words are punctuated with every unhurried stroke he’s giving her, teasing her and if she’s not in the middle of being fucked right now, she would have kicked him in the balls.

Growling, she swallows her plea by pulling Carrick down for another kiss. This time, she’s the one who does the biting and the sucking, making sure he’s distracted enough and then just like with all the things she does in her life, she takes the matter into her own hands.

With all her strength, she scrambles up, pushes him off of her and knocks him onto his back flat on the bed. When she swings her legs to straddle him, his eyes pop.

“Holy shit, you are feisty.”

“Only cause I’m angry and horny,” she bites off. Angling herself above him and with one hand, guides his shaft back to her opening. “And you- you weren’t doing a proper job fucking me.”

He smirks. “I was trying to wind you up.”

“Fuck you.”

She lowers herself and sinks back onto his cock, relishing in his moans and growls.

“Baby, you’re doing it.” His hands curling around her waist, his head falls back onto the bed, exposing his throat and Claire is so hard-pressed not to bite him there.

Claire ignores his smartassness, naturally, and lifts herself, drops back down. Slamming her hips into his until she’s bouncing on him. Nails clawing at his chest. Finally be able to set a pace she desperately craves for, finally wiping that smirk off of his face.

Under her, Carrick is biting his lip in an effort to not to lose control. His hands are everywhere now; her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her cheeks. Leaving fire on its wake. She might still hate him after this is strange, little arrangement is over but at this juncture, he’s exactly the remedy she needs after everything.

Then Carrick wraps his arms around her and picks up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Claire shakes. She can’t catch her breath, her forehead pressed on his shoulder, her teeth latching onto his skin. Breathing a string of 'fuckfuckfuck’ while he squeezes her ass and continues to fuck her with careless abandon.

"Tobias.” Her moans amplify. She’s close to climaxing again, her legs quivering. Eyes wide shut. “Please, please.” So much for not begging.

He pulls her to him so their foreheads meet. Their lips brush against each other, but they aren’t kissing, merely trading breaths. A hand touches her cheek and her lids flutter open, finding his eyes- those depthless, amber eyes that pretty much lead her to this point, are watching her, pulling her in.

“Say it again,” he encourages darkly, face twists in pleasure. “My name. Say it again.”

She does it again, it comes out as a groaned whisper, repeating it over and over again like a sacred mantra.

Her second orgasm sweeps through her, making her spine arches, it tears a winded moan from her throat and it’s more than enough to trigger Carrick’s own release; fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, groaning gutturally.

Panting, sore but sated, Claire collapses on top of his chest, his arm still drapes around her. The rise and fall of his breath lull her to sleep. Before she knows it, he gently rolls her to his side, pulling the covers for them and kisses her on the shoulder, which comes out as… odd for her.

The bed moves and she feels him leaving.

He’s leaving.

She doesn’t know why it stings, but it does. But also Claire opts not to pay no mind to it and forces her mind to surrender to sleep that once again tries to take hold.

Claire wishes she doesn’t dream of him that night, but she does.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s way past midnight when she wakes up. The room is dark. The curtains are closed. She’s still naked and sore under the covers, mind reeling in from what has just transpired.

One might ask in which universe does Claire Castelnuovo agree to sleep with Tobias Carrick? Well, apparently they did it in this one and oddly still, she doesn’t regret it. Though she’s still low-key sad that he left her straight after sex, but hey, what can she do about it? This arrangement itself is nothing but a means to an end, anyway, a perverse alternative for him to pay back what he allegedly owes her, she shouldn’t be surprised if he left after the ‘debt’ is paid.

Feeling her mood somehow takes an unexpected dip, she gets us from the bed and gathers her clothes on the floor.

She’s in the middle of zipping up her skirt when the bedside lamp flickers and comes on.

Claire turns around. Carrick, rousing from sleep, looks at her, rubbing his eyes and stifles a yawn. His lips still tinged from her kisses and bites.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep and Claire thinks her mouth is hanging open, standing rooted to the spot like a spider on an icicle; frozen in time.

For a moment, she does nothing but stares at him, being rendered speechless. For many times, Tobias Carrick never fails to surprise her. Just when she thinks she has him all figured out, he comes sneaking in through her windows like a thief in the night and it just strikes her, how he really is an uncharted territory for her. Despite her having him pinned under her, exploring the hard planes of his body under the touches just a few hours ago.

The man is like a fucking myth, at this point. She knows him only from stories and her limited time around him, but who is exactly Tobias Carrick? Is he the competitive doctor at Mass Kenmore, the Machiavellian asshole that severed his friendship/relationship with Ethan for the sake of his greed and ambition? Or is he, Tobias Carrick, the man who saves her life, makes her laugh and kisses her shoulder in the afterglow?

She’ll probably never know.

“Yeah, my roommates will probably deploy a search party if I don’t come home tonight,” she replies, distracted, finally finding her own voice back. He nods, feigning disappointment- or is he not? She clears her throat and continues putting on her clothes. “I thought you left.”

He chuckles at the absurdity of her deduction. “And without saying goodbye?” Carrick rolls off of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s already wearing his pants- thank fuck for that- and approaches her. “I may be an asshole, Castelnuovo, but just so you know, my mother raised me better than that.”

So they’re back to their usual last name basis perimeter. That’s good, right? After all of this, she thinks a little familiarity would be nice for her sanity.

“Good to know, then.”

Silence encompasses the room. It’s awkward and overwhelming and it throws her a little off-balance. At the bar, they seemed to know exactly what to say to each other- especially him; but now, even she can sense the hesitation in his gait, at the way he’s looking at her and a faint alarm is trilling her head. Because if he’s making this awkward, she can do a whole lot of worse.

"Oh, before you ask, that makes up for pretty much everything, yeah. I mean, it’s alright.” You fucking dumbass, she thinks to herself, averting his gaze while a smile blooms on his face.

“Good to know, then.” He parrots her words and she huffs a laugh, freely and sweetly, like she’s currently not knee-deep in her problems or she’s just fucked the most incorrigible man that ever exists. He does too, but his gaze lands on her mouth before going back to her eyes.

Another silence passes. It’s time to go.

“I have to go now.”

He nods mutely and moves away so Claire can step past him.

She wears her coat. In the mirror, she still looks thoroughly fucked; her hair’s dishevelled, she smells like him now, but she really needs to go. She promises herself that this will be a one time thing because, Jesus fuck, she’s supposed to be smarter than this. She’s not fifteen anymore, and this is not the summer where she can watch the sunset from the cornfields with her cousins even though his eyes possess the same color.

Yet she walks toward the door in a daze, like she’s forgetting something but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Can I-”

“Hey, do you-”

She stops, mid-turning, and closes her mouth. She doesn’t realize she’s interrupting him.

“Oh, sorry,” Claire says, embarrassed. “You go first, it’s alright.”

“Can I have your number?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant.

She thinks he’s joking or maybe he’s just feigning interest, but one look at his eyes and she can tell that this isn’t smoke and mirrors.

The eyes, chico. They never lie. It’s dumb, but that line from Scarface is the first thing that comes to her mind. That’s why when she hands him her phone, her hand is shaking slightly. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.

Claire takes a cursory glance at her phone once he returns it. He saved his number solely as t.c. with the water drop, the syringe, the ghost, the eggplant, the firework emoji and she chuckles endearingly, questioning the universe how he can easily get both a rise and a laugh out of her.

“I’ll text you?” Carrick asks again and she nods a little too enthusiastically at it, but what the hell?

“Sure.”

“Alright.” He takes one look at her, steps closer and for a moment, she thinks he might be going to kiss her.

“Goodnight, Claire,” Carrick says instead and she nods, admitting the fact that he’s not going to do it.

“Goodnight to you too, Tobias.” Then pauses at the doorway, feeling surprisingly bold. “I gotta give it to you, though, for someone who’s become the bane of my existence for months, you’re a damn good lay.”

He barks out a laugh, obviously, that Claire can hear all the way down the hall. And she thinks she can get used to the sound.

fin.

Tag list: @villain-fuckarooni @beckaroo @arfeiniel @this-person-is-busy @colossalpainintheass @drethanramslay @hatescapsicum @theeccentricbibliophile

#playchoices #open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #open heart mc #oh mc #pixelberry #choices stories you play

150 notes · View notes

mercuryislove · 2 years

Note

It is once again the best day of the week! Happy Friday!

🪞 for Anwei

👄 for Yixing

👁 for Ciaran

👀 for Azetahn

👖 for Andhira

happy friday and also saturday and i might as well say sunday too!! my weekend has been super busy so far and SOMEHOW I'm still dealing with the lingering cough from my weird sinus bug thing last week!

🪞 How does your oc perceive themself? Do they believe themself to be attractive, unattractive, or average? Does their view of themself affect their self-esteem, oar they unbothered by their physical appearance? If your oc does have things they're confident or insecure about, what are they?

Anwei has lived long enough to no longer give a damn about what other people think of her looks. When she was growing up, she cared way too much and it warped her self-esteem for years and years and years. She used to hate being tall because her mother always said that boys didn't like tall girls (um. news flash mom she is GAY), and she hated the shape of her jaw and her nose and her dark brows because people used to say they were too “masculine,” so she spent a lot of her teenage years trying to mask it all. Then one day when she was like 20 she woke up and said “WHO GIVES A DAMN?” and quit plucking her brows and dyed her hair cotton candy pink and started wearing platform heels and made sure everyone knew that she didn't give a fuck about everyone else's opinions anymore. (Except her mom. And her mom was fucking mortified that she would dye her hair such a garish color.)

These days, she doesn't try to stand out (except when she's hosting a party lmao) and she doesn't try to blend in (except when she's hiding from people that want her dead), and she truly could not care less about what other people think. She wears clothes that are comfortable and functional, and she styles her hair to keep it out of her way, and like. what the fuck is self-esteem? She knows she can't really change what she looks like and that in a few decades, trends around the world will be completely different, so why bother? She is happy just to be herself. But she really does miss being able to dye her hair weird ass colors. And the platform boots, if only to tower even further over Ciaran.

👄 What is your oc's smile like? Is it bright and wide, or thin and reserved? Does your oc wear any lipgloss or lipstick? Do they chew their lips?

Yixing has two distinct smiles. There's the “professional” smile that he uses with most people he knows. It's like a customer service smile where he squints a little bit and smiles without even showing his teeth, and people eat that shit up. They LOVE it. He whips out the customer service smile to haggle with people and get discounts and to get free drinks and to get his way. Mari tells him he should use it sparingly because people might get used to it and he won't get what he wants with it anymore, but that doesn't stop him lol. And then there's his genuine smile that he only uses when he's around people he's comfortable with (or when he's like. stupid drunk lol) and he smiles with his WHOLE face and it's goofy and toothy and he kind of sticks his tongue out a little bit too and he doesn't try to hide his crow's feet or the creases in his forehead. And honestly that's the smile that people should really get into because it's just um better lol.

Also he is a notorious lip chewer, especially when he's nervous or deep in thought, so his bottom lip gets a little chapped sometimes. Anwei makes him a lip balm to help with it but he always forgets to use it on his lips because it works great for dry hands too and he cares more about that lol

👁 What is your oc's eye color? Do they have any eye-related habits, like winking or rubbing their eyes? Do other people tend to notice their eyes?

Ciaran's eyes are black. Technically, they're just really really dark brown, but they reflect virtually no light even in the brightest sun. It's kind of spooky. (Anwei's eyes are the same, for the record.) It's his distinguishing feature for sure. To make it even weirder, he likes to make eye contact for an uncomfortable length of time, and he doesn't blink often. It definitely freaks people out. Typically, people have trouble holding his gaze because the uncanny nature of his eyes is too much.

👀 What is the first physical feature people notice when they see your oc? Why?

Aside from his height (he's 6'4” which is honestly not that tall in his family because his mother is seven feet tall lmao), the first thing people notice about Azetahn is probably his smile. He has a warm and open smile that he gets from his mother. He's very friendly and wants to make friends with everyone he meets, so he's hardly ever without a smile on his face. People might also notice his eyes. He has his mother's eyes for sure. They're dark brown but in the sunlight they're crimson. It's a distinct trait from her side of the family. (Andhira's eyes are similar but not nearly as remarkable.) The Maram family that Tahire comes from is kind of famous for that because there isn't another family of vampires with such a distinct eye color. It makes it very hard to hide who they are lol

👖 What type of clothing does your oc generally wear? Why? Do they have any signature accessories?

Andhira, like everyone in her family, has expensive taste lol She is always dressed well, always wearing designer labels, and everything is tailored to fit her. She's a big fan of heels and long skirts and sheer fabrics and anything with a good drape, but she generally prefers a suit for formal wear over a gown. She likes to wear dark colors (burgundy, royal purple, emerald green, etc) and wouldn't be caught dead wearing pink or pastels under any circumstances. She always keeps her nails manicured, never very long, prefers to paint them black or red. If that doesn't count as an accessory, she also has an extensive collection of designer sunglasses and she would never leave home without a few pairs to spare. Why does she dress this way? Um, she wants to look her best always and make people jealous when she enters a room because she KNOWS she's better than anyone that could ever hope to make her acquaintance. Also she wears sunglasses religiously because even though she can go out in sunlight, her eyes are very sensitive to it lol

#oc talk #in case it isnt obvious im obsessed with dark eyes #virtually all my characters have them lol #i think i can count on one hand who doesnt have dark eyes #anyway i think ive said it before that anwei was like. a pastel goth back in the day lmao #i crack up at the thought all the time

2 notes · View notes

hyuckworld · 3 years

Text

get to know me tag game

tagged by @nctsworld ty queen !! ♡

tagging @jenoentry @junepops @maplecornia @doievoir @baekhyuns-lipchain @lavieenbluu @renhyucks @kookings

what day is your birthday? oct 15 (venmo me money haha)

what’s your favorite color? purple & yellow!

what’s your lucky number? 6 and 15 LOL

do you have any pets? no :(( i will be a dog haver one day

how tall are you? 5′2 but i walk like im 5′5 🙄

how many pairs of shoes do you own? i own like 8 (??) pairs but i only wear like one rn since lockdown 💀 usually it’s tennis shoes or my boots LOL

favorite song? star city cafe by hevel

favorite movie? the harry potter series

what would be your ideal partner? jaemin 😃

do you want children? YES 😔 life dream

have you gotten in trouble with the law? no and hopefully never i hope

bath or shower? shower 🧼

what color socks are you wearing? i dont sleep w socks on sooooo

favorite type of music? r&b mostly

how many pillows do you sleep with? one and the others are for decoration 😀

what position do you sleep in? HELP like every .. once i woke up on the floor 😾

what you don’t like when you’re sleeping? i HATE being shaken awake ill literally be out for blood if u shake me awake

what do you have for breakfast? dosa woooo

have you ever tried archery? yes in PE and i think im decent?? but i remember seeing the girl next to me accidentally slice her arm w the arrow and i was like yeahh no 🚶‍♂️

favorite fruit? strawberries & mangos

favorite swear word? i actually cuss more irl than i type it out online 💀 but hella is like in every other sentence i say and the runner ups are fuck, shit, bitch

do you have any scars? omg i have a tiny scar on my foot from a carpet nail going thru LMAO

are you a good liar? i hate lying unnecessarily but i can b good 👍

what’s your personality type? enfp-a which actually makes sense bc im not turbulent i just eat hot chip and move on

what’s your favorite type of girl? .......girls <3

innie or outie? innie

left or right handed? right

favorite food? omg i cant answer these questions im a libra

favorite foreign food? pizza idk

are you clean or messy? clean, i go 😡 if my room gets messy

most used phrase? i dont pay attention to myself that much 🏃‍♂️

how long does it take for you to get ready? tbh i dont need that long to get ready i used to wake up at 7:30 for school and run out the door at 7:45 to catch the bus

do you talk to yourself? occasionally

do you sing to yourself? yessir

are you a good singer? no i rap for @honeyju tho

biggest fear? i have the biggest irrational fear of open water LOL

are you a gossip? i don’t start gossip but i always manage to get all the details LMFAO

do you like long or short hair? omg i cant choose but i like short hair on myself !! i looked so hot but my hair grows so fast

favorite school subject? science

extrovert or introvert? extrovert

what makes you nervous? the future 😰

who was your first real crush? a white boy 💀 mannn

how many piercings do you have? just my lobes

how fast can you run? honestly i haven't run in a long time LMFAO i can sprint short distances p fast but my endurance is no bueno

what color is your hair? black

what color are your eyes? brown

what makes you angry? takes a lot to make me angry but being disrespected, fake ppl, ppl who copy my personality 😹

do you like your own name? 👍

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? BOTH :(

what are your strengths? this feels like a job interview help but im a fast learner and good with people ! also im p straight up and honest so i don’t try playing games 💀 also empathetic 👍

what are your weaknesses? i get distracted so easily LOL also im bad at responding to messages. i also have 🏃‍♂️ trust and commitment issues bye

what’s the color of your bedspread? like baby blue with white flowers

color of your room? lavender

#hyuckworld tagged #tagged by: nctsworld

5 notes · View notes

spellmanmortuary · 3 years

Note

To be fair Miner is a typical Halloween costume, Nick dresses like a normal person, don’t know how you can find Caliban’s clothes unless it’s the pac sun looking shirt. At least Part 4 can deliver Jock Nick and Cheerleader Sabrina costumes.

ok this ask made me crack open my computer so it should tell u how much i care abt fashion

but basically !! no one is wearing the miner look. the harvey costumes are the plaid shirt, the jeans and the sneakers with the boy next door hair + the brown leather jacket. so basically the look he’s had throughout the show’s run.

the problem is that nick and caliban don’t have noteworthy style. harvey’s isn’t exactly noteworthy or groundbreaking, but, it’s identifiable and he has a signature look going. like if you prop any dude dressed in the plaid + jeans + jacket combo next to a girl dressed as sabrina, you’ll know it’s harvey.

however: the other guys don’t have this kind of signature style.

take nick. in p1 his style ? mess. he had this schoolboy thing going ? like he was wearing the white button up shirt with the sweater and they had him wear that in the promo material for some strange reason. but then in p2 they found his groove and had him in the dark turtlenecks and all black outfits, which were honestly ?? great. but then for p3 the style said 😌 it was nice to meet u 😌 and they had a weird regression where they started putting him in the ill fitting jeans with boots but occasionally in the white shirts again ?? and like in my opinion his style throughout the 3 parts has been kind of inconsistent to the point where the Nick Scratch Signature Look is just. him shirtless in dark pants. which again, might be great for like character development ( which i’m not sure of either lmao ) but it isn’t great when you’re trying to build a costume.

as for caliban ? missed potential tbh. like i get that they had to have him in the whole hell attire but couldn’t they make it a bit more fashionable ?? like. even beelzebub has that great fun flesh crown and he has those fur coats that he wears with skull belts and stuff. i think that what went wrong with calibans lack of ~iconic style-ness~ is that they put him in this ugly ass vest without a shirt for most of p3. and his style was not cohesive at ALL. like. we had the vest thing and then we got this amazing romantic novel prince moment but then we got this 70′s looking ensemble that looks like it could have been worn by logan lerman in hunters. so tell me, caos wardrobe department, what is caliban’s style ?

in my opinion, it was wasted potential lol. like look at the fashion warlocks wear in ahs: apocalypse !!! i think that the show and even nick’s character could have been a lot more stylish if they had given him the same style he had in the first two parts for the third one, but in colors that went from dark to clear. like i know the show loves the 60s so why did we never get a short sleeved turtleneck moment ? we know gavin would’ve looked really good in one of those. we could have gotten a preppy striped cardigan with a black tshirt underneath. we could have gotten long black coats and blazers in interesting cuts. we could have gotten a tie moment. but no.... ill fitting jeans we know he’s short you don’t have to spell it out for us with those jeans that looked like he took them from harvey but had to fold the legs so they would fit him.

i love ambrose’s style but like it could have been a lot more fun and iconic. if they loved the psychdellic 70s menswear for him they could have leaned into it more and given him corduroy vests with funky print shirts/bellbottoms/funky colored blazers and big collars.

for caliban they could have given him a much more regal signature look, which would have made sense because he wanted the crown so bad it was natural that he would want to look the part. they could have given him a campy ass wardrobe with like. over the top embroidered shirts/some bejeweling/some faux fur and like. an actual hair look bc that just looks like sam combed his hair and showed up to set. some guyliner even.

because look, it doesn’t matter if they dress like regular people because if the character has great style that looks recognizable, people will want to dress up as them, like the euphoria characters, or buffy the vampire slayer, or even sabrina herself. sabrina has a ton of signature, identifiable looks and moments despite the wardrobe departments’ best efforts so people want to dress up as her. she looks cute, she looks fun, it works if you want to make it sexy or spooky or conservative or a combination of the three. you can pick the plaid skirt + turtleneck, the red peacoat, the cheer uniform or if you want to go all out, you can do the whole I AM THE DARK LORD’S SWORD thing. you can wear the red off the shoulder top from the promos or the black queen of hell dress. same goes for the weird sister’s dresses. they’re cute, relatively easy to copy, and they can be as fun and flirty as u wanna make them.

to be honest, to me the problem is that the style in caos is.... a bit messy. it’s confusing because characters look like they all came from different eras and their styles ( except ambrose, who stays pretty on brand with the 70s ) blend together in the most boring, print crazy, muted tones ( which. why??? they’re teenagers why are they always wearing autumnal colors ), sometimes they put the actors in things that are unflattering to their body types like sabrina’s valentine’s day ruched red dress atrocity that shit belongs to in a middle school spring fling dance or nick’s weird carnival canadian tux, and sometimes they mix eras? like with sabrina’s style, which inexplicably jumps from 60s to 70s but nothing she wears looks like what her aunts would have worn at her age so where and how did she even get those ?? were those like... her mom’s ?? if they were, why has the connection never been made ? it could have been great for emotional depth.

but anyway, the characters that we see on halloween or at comic cons are usually the weird sisters ( specifically prudence ), hilda, zelda, lilith, harvey, sabrina, and occasionally ambrose. this is most likely due to the fact that they have the more signature, noteworthy, recognizable clothes. the weird sisters have that one signature look and they ROCK it, hilda and zelda both dress like different kinds of stereotypical witches with identifiable hairstyles and are a fun friends/sisters costume, and lilith had that MOMENT with the demon face. harvey’s style is cute and consistent and pretty much timeless, maybe sometimes 90s inspired-ish. sabrina has an identifiable look with the hairstyle even if that wig is awful.

so yeah, that was my long way of saying that the reason why people aren’t dressing up as nick or caliban even if theyre in a couples costume with a sabrina is because those two have unidentifiable, non cohesive style.

caos could have been a fashion show.... could’ve brought 60′s/70′s inspo in fashion back... but for some reason it didnt rlly do that lol

8 notes · View notes

katherinewilliams221b · 3 years

Note

Hello and thank you for the ask, obvi I have my own curiosities abt Kat's future life... 😏 If you don't mind, questions 3, 8, 6 and 12 are what came to mind first, though I'm also curious abt 15! I don't want to touch anything that may result in your series spoilers bc it's soo good - but her broader family life after all this I'm very curious about :D

Hi! This took soo long I'm so sorry lmao- Long post ahead From this ask

3. What is MC’s family like now?

I’m leaving here Kate’s direct family. I didn’t include Kate and Charlie’s daughter because I don’t have a name or a back story for her.

Here we have the Williams part of the family Nicholas (Obliviator) and Aurora (arithmancer and the actual brain behind the family's finances), Kate's grandparents, had 3 children: Evira (professor), Erick (auror), Joseph (dtp of International Magical cooperation). Joseph is Kate's dad.

The Walsh side of the family starts with Bernard (potioneer) and Julie (muggle nurse), Kate's grandparents, who had 2 children: Natalia (journalist) and Cornelia (apparition examiner). Natalia is Kate's mom.

This is the Walsh side of the family. Bernard's parents were Taidgh (broom maker) and Fiona (owl trainer). They had 10 children (see below).

Julie was the only child of muggles Ronan (fisherman) and Ciara Flannigan (fish seller)

The 10 Walsh siblings in order are: Imogen(farmer), Muireann (tutor), Paddy(broom maker), Adeline (aurologist), Collin (saleswizard in quidditch games), Cornelia (alchemist, Bernard's daughter was named after her), Brian (magizoologist), Jane (muggle relations), Bernard (potioneer), Seán (squib)

Details of these characters will be on another post about the Ireland fic character list that Im working on. (I might change a few names)

6. How has MC’s style changed?

The first year at Hogwarts was very child-like. She was still that little girl that came from a wealthy and sinister family, always in the shadows and behind doors because she wasn’t allowed to enter most of the rooms. She carried a small charm that Jacob gave her and it was the year she adopted Grimoire in Diagon Alley, first rebellious act since the Williams manor only allowed owls and Aurora Williams’ spider. In her defense, she went to Diagon Alley all alone. Her style reflected innocence.

There was a huge leap between 1st and 2nd-3rd year. Mom went to Beirut, dad was busy in the ministry, and her brother was still missing. She opted for the same 3 outfits all the time.

The next big change occurred in fourth year. She started hanging out with Tonks and she absorbed a little bit of her dark style. All-black outfits were daily and she started experimenting with skirts. That dark look in addition with her winning every single game of gobstones, being fearless in duel and her original bad reputation, reflected confidence. Also, mama gifts her a nice bag.

From 7th year and onwards she shifts to more ‘badass looks’. She still favours dark colours like blacks and browns, but her go-to outfits include leather jackets and boots. Before the war, she became an animagus, which is a black cat form. An important accessory is the dragon necklace that Charlie gives her before going to Romania, and she wears it until the war, where she loses it. Another detail that I’m not going to explain now (still figuring it out and I don’t want to give away too much about the next fic) is that she gets a matching tattoo with Charlie: a serch bythol (with some magic properties)

In her 30s and 40s she is a respectable mediwizard now and she starts dressing a little bit more classy. She is not giving up her leather jacket yet but more blouses and dress pants are added to her closet.

Kate went full witch mode when she passed her fifties. Loving the aesthetic of it all, she shamelessly wears her witch hats to every party, reunion or gathering. Long dresses with pockets are a favourite.

In reality, she is a softie, and you know that when talking to her. If you are lucky enough to be her apprentice you will find her elegant, intimidating and very very wise. After a while, you will discover that she has an enormous heart.

8. How is MC’s and Jacob’s relationship now? (If your Jacob is alive)

My Jacob is very much dead. I don’t plan on changing that. If he was alive (let’s imagine that au) I think their relationship will be problematic. He loved her little sister, but she was more of a burden than anything else. Growing up in the Williams manor was the first curse he encountered in his life: his grandfather pressured him to follow every Williams man’s steps and become a Ministry employee, dad did the same, mom was never home, and he had to take care of his little sister because leaving her alone in that house wasn't an option.

When they reunited, he would still see her as the toddler that sniffled every leaf and flower, that collected pretty rocks and buried her little fingers in the soil just to experiment, all while he tried to read his book under a tree.

There would be a slow and long process of getting to know each other again.

In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think Kate would have moved in with Charlie so soon if Jacob was still alive. The two years that they were apart, maintaining a long-distance relationship, she was grieving and living alone in a flat in London that the Williams family provided. If Jacob had survived, they would have moved out of the manor together and it would have taken longer for Kate to go to Charlie.

12. What was MC’s reaction learning Bill and Charlie’s little sister went missing her First Year?

Well, she couldn't do much about it, it's not like she would go to Hogwarts and look for her herself. But she was worried. Some old fears came back, the similarities with her own experience with her brother made her uneasy, but after confirming it didn't have anything to do with the vaults she could think a little bit better. At that time she was a healer trainee at St Mungo’s and Charlie was already in Romania so there was a lot of letter-exchanging just with updates of the situation.

15. MC’s experience at Bill’s wedding? (Did they attend Bill’s wedding? What did they wear? Did they play a role in it? Were they the bride? =p)

Kate and Charlie attended Bill’s wedding but they weren't happy about it. They love Fleur, and Bill too but with everything that was happening then it didn't seem like a good idea. They were vigilant the whole evening, especially Kate.

Reuniting with Tonks and other Hogwarts friends made her relax a bit and actually enjoy herself. We'll leave the details for a fic I'll write someday.

I shamelessly say that they matched outfits. Kate wanted to wear a pointy hat that Charlie gave her one Christmas with a dark blue dress that matched the inside of the hat.

She noticed the disappointment on his face when he saw it and later found out that he had chosen a shirt to go with the previous dress she had shown him. She changed outfits and with some gold accessories, they went to the Burrow thinking they were the best looking couple there.

I couldn't find a picture of what I had in mind for him because I took the idea from this fanart from cursebreakerglenetive .

That’s the exact outfit. I fell in love when I saw the concept. No tie, of course, the burgundy undershirt and inside of the jacket, the belt with golden dragon details is everything.

For her, a simple but elegant dress, with her golden dragon necklace and long earrings.

Nice experience overall until everything went to hell, we all know that part.

Thanks for the ask! This was fun to make 🖤

#kate williams #hphm ask #ask #mc

5 notes · View notes

maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years

Text

Tourniquet - Han Jisung Gang AU Part 1

Description: you’re a college student working part time at a maid cafe when you get involved with another student, who happens to be part of a gang

Authors note: I kept the maid cafe idea Bc it’s cute ok

(Part2) (Part3) (Part4) (Part5) (Part6) (Part7) (Part8)

Running. That’s all I could do as the darkness crept in. The last little bit of light was taken, ripped from me from my own hands as I cried out for them to stop. My chest hurt. I’m bleeding and there’s no one here to save me. I can’t keep going, it hurts.

I stare up at the starry night, my chest heaving as I can feel what seems to be the last of my breaths leaving my body, and fuck, it hurts. Everything hurts. My heart feels heavy, and my body feels like it’s going to betray me. And what did I do so wrong? Why me? I hear voices. They’re getting closer and fuck, I can’t move. I can’t get my body to listen to me as I lay in a field of flowers that tickle my skin and try to comfort me. They followed me, they’re going to find me and finish off what they started, and I don’t have the strength to resist.

“Poor thing.” I hear a familiar voice as the darkness creeps in.

I close my eyes as I finally accept it, the darkness consuming me until I’m nothing left.

School was always something you took seriously, especially college. But right now, as you laid sprawled out, face down in a mess of papers, you couldn’t say it was true 100% of the time. You were currently being over dramatic over a creative writing paper. You had absolutely no motivation to move that overly priced pen that wrote like magic over that thin, perfectly white crispy paper you had beside you.

On top of school, you were working. Not that you were complaining, it was a simple job. You worked part time at a maid cafe that was always buzzing with people, so you made bank in tips. But work + school = I give up on life.

You finally decided to drag yourself up and slammed a piece of paper down on your desk, dragging the pen out slowly and beginning to write whatever your brain could function at the moment. It was a shame you weren’t allowed to write it in pencil, so the whole “oops I keep breaking the point” trick wouldn’t make you feel better about procrastinating. (Like, stop procrastinating mate! LMAO 😭😂)

You wracked your brain until it hurt and your alarm went off, signaling you had to hop your happy ass off to school and hope the paper you had a week to write but decided to wait till the day of to write it will get a passing grade. When did you become this lazy and unmotivated?

You walked to school, as it wasn’t far from your apartment. You decided to get an apartment off campus to avoid all of the annoying frat parties and all of the drama that went with it. You hated being woken up, so being close to frats and sororities wasn’t a good idea.

You walked into the courtyard of the school, mind not completely there. Your headphones were in as you raised your head and saw a group of guys sitting in the courtyard.

They were always there before and after class, usually messing around. You knew two of them from your Korean class, Chan and Hyunjin. Chan was your typical friendly guy and a Hyunjin was a heart throb.

You walked passed them, your eyes on the ground before you felt eyes on you. You raised your eyes and made eye contact with one. He had large, dark eyes, brown hair, and a pretty face. His eyes were on you as you passed and you looked down to avoid anymore eye contact. He smirked and hopped down from his spot on the cement wall.

You handed in your creative writing paper and sighed in relief as the piece was taken from your hands. You had so much time to do it, yet you stressed yourself out last minute. Why couldn’t you have done it right away like you used too? Instead, you wait until last minute to do everything and then stress about it instead of doing it right away and not having a care in the world.

You sighed in relief again as you left your creative writings class and went to your Korean class, where you all just took notes. You were leaning your head on your hand when you felt another pair of eyes on you. You looked up and made eye contact with Hyunjin, who was sitting beside Chan. His eyes bore into yours as you awkwardly looked away and down at your notes. His eyes were still on you and made you swallow hard. What the Hell did he want? Why was he staring at you so intensely? It made you feel self conscious and uncomfortable as you quickly wrote your notes down.

After class you went to rush out the door, when you turned and looked at Hyunjin.

“Next time take a picture, it lasts longer.” You hissed.

Chan started laughing and Hyunjin stared at you for a moment before smirking at you. You walked out of the room and almost walked directly into someone. You looked up and saw the guy from earlie, his large eyes were on you as you felt your whole body freeze.

He was wearing a leather jacket, a black shirt, a chain, black jeans, and black boots. Despite his rough appearance, his eyes were soft and doe like, with a hint of intimidation.

“Sorry.” You said lowly as you hurried away from the class.

He watched you go, a smile on his face. Chan walked out laughing at Hyunjin, who also looked amused.

“What happened?” Jisung asked.

“Hyunjin was looking at that girl and she noticed. She didn’t swoon like the others, she told him to take a picture because it lasts longer.” Chan cackled.

“Shut up.” Hyunjin mumbled, amusement in his tone.

Jisung laughed and grabbed his shoulder.

“Wow, you’ve never been rejected. How does it feel?” He asked.

“You tell me, you’re always rejected.” Hyunjin said with a smirk.

You quickly changed into your work uniform and headed out the door. You walked a few blocks until you came to the maid cafe. You felt better now that you were at work, loving your job. You walked and in and your boss greeted you with a smile.

“Hey Y/N, how’s school?” She asked.

“Same old same old.” You sighed.

“I understand, but it’ll be rewarding when you finish.” She said.

“I know, it sucks for now but I’ll be happy later.” You said with a smile.

You put your apron on and started your shift, as a few tables came in. One of your regulars came in and he greeted you.

“Hey Mr. Park, how are you?” You asked with a pleasant smile.

“I’m great honey! How are you? How’s school?” He asked.

“It’s going well!” You said, taking his order and running food for a few other tables.

You brought Mr. Park his food when another table came in.

“Welcome.” You greeted with a big smile.

Your heart stopped when you saw Doe Eyes, Chan, and another guy, who looked extremely intimidating despite his short height. His eyes lit up when he saw you and you beckoned them to a table. You handed them menu’s and got them their drink orders.

“You go to (college name) don’t you?” The intimidating one asked.

“I do.” You responded while taking their orders.

“Hmmm. What major?” Doe Eyes asked.

“Psychology.” You said.

His eyes lit up as he smiled at you.

“Really? Any specific kind of psychologist you want to be?” He asked.

“Forensic.” You replied.

“That’s interesting.” He said, his big eyes glowing. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You said, grabbing their menu’s.

“I’m Jisung, you know Chan, and this is Changbin.” He said with a wide smile.

You smiled and nodded as you put their orders in and ran other tables. After dropping off their food, you handed Jisung and the other two their food.

“Oooo this looks good.” Chan said with a smile.

As they ate, you kept catching Jisung’s eye. His large eyes didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or self conscious as Hyunjin’s did. Instead, you couldn't help but smile.

After they finished, Jisung handed you his card and you ran the payment and handed it back to him. He reached his hand out and his fingers brushed over yours, a smile on his face.

“Thank you.” He said.

“Thank you guys.” You said, looking at all three.

The guys sat and talked for a bit, before walking out right before your shift ended. You cleaned up a bit and waved goodbye to your boss before walking out the door. The took your hair out and ruffled it a bit before walking down the stairs and almost colliding into Jisung’s chest.

“Oh, did you just get done?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah.” You answered.

“Hmm, do you walk alone?” He asked.

“Depends. Are you going to kidnap me?” You asked, raising a brow.

He laughed and so did the other two.

“No really, do you walk home alone?” He asked.

“I do.” You responded.

“Why don’t we walk you home then? It’s dangerous out here at night.” He said.

The other two nodded in agreement and you awkwardly agreed.

“So what major’s are you guys in?” You asked as the four of you walked.

“We’re all in business.” Jisung said.

“That’s interesting, are all of your friends in business?” You asked.

“Nah, Woojin and Seungmin are in medical and Jeongins in computer technology.” He said with a big smile.

“Oh, that’s cool.” You said, looking up at him.

His eyes held galaxies in them as he smiled down at you.

You all approached your apartment and you bowed to them.

“Thank you for walking me home, I really appreciate it.” You said.

“No problem.” Chan said with a smile.

Changbin gave a polite smile, and Jisung smiled at you before turning away.

“Now we know where to kidnap her from.” He said, looking back at you and laughing.

“Yah!” You yelled and they all laughed before waving goodbye to you.

“The nerve.” You mumbled, but laughed a bit.

You plopped down on your bed and sighed. School and work were a lot, and you didn’t have friends or a social life really. You looked up at the ceiling for a bit before you decided to clean up and get ready for bed, your mind wandering to Jisung and his big eyes

#straykids #stray kids #straykidznet #kpop #kpop imagines #skz han #stray kids han #jisung sk #stray kids jisung #han jisung #gang au

469 notes · View notes