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#it might be a loooong time until 'be kind' sees the light of day
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be kind, please rewind, yaaaa rewind, Heritage and Virtue please
Hi anon! Thank you for your interest in all my stuff <3 But 4 is a bit much for one ask, so I'm going to limit it to the first two with snippets, okay? Okay!
'be kind, please rewind' is one of my very first fic ideas I had for LU that I'm sort-of continuing sort-of reworking as I go! It's very much a time loop fic, but it's written from a different perspective each loop as the boys begin to notice Time acting strange! Different people will notice different things, and it'll slowly piece together with each turnaround.
Legend frowned at the concerns, though not for lack of understanding. "Guessing you haven't tried bringing that up with him?" An amused scoff came from his side. "Great plan, veteran. Never would’ve thought of it on my own. I'll be sure to do that. His answer would definitely be as non-cryptic and helpful as when you tried." Legend only rolled his eyes. "Shelve the sarcasm, that's different. I get pissed at you idiots every day, it’s easy to get me off-topic. He’d have a harder time dismissing and riling you up in front of everyone." Warriors chuckled at his comment, but it was clear enough it hadn't convinced him. "Don't get me wrong, I do want to confront him. But it's eerie just how close some of his rescues end up being, you know? Just last week, if he hadn't deflected that spear going for the sailor, I'm not sure what…" The sentence trailed off into ambiguity, but it had never needed to be finished for a prickly cold sensation to begin creeping down Legend's spine.  "There's got to be a reason behind it," Warriors continued as Legend pushed the memory out of his head, "and I intend to do my best to figure it out before I talk to him."
yaaaa it's rewind time hgdfdgf as its working title so eloquently is, is a fic where I push the bloodline of the Oracle of Ages onto Time! Because there's an Oracle Nayru before him in the timeline, and there is one after in Legend's time - so where is the one in Time's? Here's my explanation, and my excuse to give Time more cool time-fucky powers >:)
Dominion over time. It sounded absurd, applied to himself. Absurd enough he could not hold in a scoff, palms pressing into his eyes until colours danced on a dark canvas. “Link,” Zelda's voice broke through the spiral before it could fully clutch his thoughts. Her tone was softer now, possessed of a calming quality. “This will not change anything if you do not wish for it. Oracles have not been public figures for centuries" He took in a breath. Her reassurance quelled some of his rising agitation, though it did not dowse it fully. "While it is an explanation, it still feels… nonsensical,” he admitted. “Besides the fact I am neither woman nor named as one. If I truly am… this, then how is it only surfacing now? The title of Hero has been with me longer than it hasn’t. I played my role. Why would I also fill another?"
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sorryimanon · 3 years
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Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader
Tags: 18+, dirty talk, explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, penetration, bakugou being a switch, reader is a dom, lots of back and forth between characters, slow burn
A/N: this was supposed to be divided into two parts but surprise, surprise! i got lazy :) i had so much writing this. this might be my favorite fic ive written so far! this is a loooong one. enjoy! 
P.S this is the unedited ver. I will posting the final on my AO3 account (sorryimanon)
-
Katsuki disliked her. No, he absolutely loathed her. Ever since she stepped foot into the classroom, it was destined for there to be a hostile barrier between the two of them. Granted, all she did was sweetly greet him like the rest of her fellow classmates, but Katsuki completely saw through her fading facade and ignored the kind gesture with a threatening showcase of his quirk.
"Being nice won't get you anywhere, baka," he snarled, glaring intensely at her all the while everyone watched the whole scene unfold.
He treated her like a foolish peasant after that initial encounter, disregarding her in any way shape or form as disgust shone through his eyes.
Y/N persevered the oncoming school years despite the blonde breathing down her neck consistently everyday. Katsuki's aggressive nature towards her subsided once graduation commenced, alluding to the blossoming maturity each student should have endured before branching off into hero work.
Not long after the celebratory succession, y/n bounced to several agencies that offered the same beneficial agreements for her. None caught her attention. Until one day she received a recommendation from Endeavor himself to work full time at his agency. Of course she accepted it and immediately wrote her sloppy signature down on the contract. Unbeknownst to her excitement, a separate copy of the contract was sent to another uprising hero around her age group.
So when she strutted in that morning of orientation, she never expected to see the very infamous Katsuki Bakugou slouched on one of the many chairs in the meeting room. Her throat tightened as she took a seat next to him, his height still freakishly tall even when they were just sitting. Staring straight forward to prevent from any means of eye contact with him, he lowered his head at her eye level and crooked a half smile.
"I'm gonna make you regret for even considering joining here, extra." A fleck of his spit hit the side of her face. Learning from her past encounters with Katsuki, y/n held her tongue in hopes for him to feel satisfied enough to leave her alone.
Thankfully their office hours were inconsistent to where they didn't intervene with each other, neither of them awkwardly meeting in the lobby or an elevator. However, sometimes y/n and Bakugou would desire the same craving for a caffeinated beverage and find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder by the coffee machine.
Bakugou likes his coffee black, she mentally jotted down as she intently watched his usual routine of preparing the beverage.
Like the asshole he is, Bakugou would purposely tip the mug and let a few trickles of the hot liquid burn her hand. He's done this every single time before he leaves y/n alone in the break room. Deep down, he relishes in the strained expression on her face when he inflicts the pain upon her. Thoughts danced across his head. Some involving him blasting y/n into the stratosphere to her kissing the tips of his boots for mercy. Either way, her being so submissive and, dare he say, a pussy to stand her ground sufficed him enough for the time being. But sometimes it pissed him off.
The constant harassment by the angry blonde went unnoticed by their other colleagues, including Endeavor, leaving y/n to prepare every morning to face the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou. His verbal abuse never wavered, occasionally whispering under his breath "weakling" or "stupid girl" whenever the pair were in the same room together. One time he sent her on a wild goose chase to find a missing case file that miraculously disappeared from her desk while she was copying something in the other room. Hours later, she soon discovers the said file tucked behind Katsuki's arm, snatching it from his grip and not once reprimanding him for wasting her time. Y/N eventually got used to it. Adapting to the annual insults of her work ethics and anything he could muster up from his sleeve. Both finally accepted their twisted dynamic, and became accustomed to the work lifestyle.
Months later, the dynamic soon changed when Endeavor announced an emergency meeting with everyone in the building. Apparently a new wave of villains have been reigning terror over the city, causing major damages and fatalities in a matter of weeks. Rumors started to circulate that the new generation of heroes don't have the capabilities to apprehend this group of evil doers. In the meeting, Endeavor made it clear for everyone to be partnered up before he dismisses them to patrol for the night, suggesting that pairing up with someone who is complimentary to your quirk is efficient for when dealing with these kinds of villains.
That's why y/n didn't voice her complaint when she inevitably got matched with Bakugou. His quirk alone was powerful already. With both of their quirks combined, there's no telling how the mission will go, but she surprisingly feels safe knowing he'll be sticking by her side throughout the rest of the night. It'll be a quick mission, then they'll return back to their previous mundane duties in the office. Back to Katsuki's mental and verbal torment.
"Could you move any slower?" Katsuki barked as both he and y/n were taking a quick stroll through the public park, scoping out for any signs of danger.
She was a step behind him, careful not to bump his shoulder or invade his space. She mumbled out a quick apology and fastened her pace, catching up to the man in gear. Tonight he wore his alternative hero costume, the design made specifically for when the temperature reaches an undesirable degree. The collar touched below the tip of his chin, his chiseled chest covered with the thick black material, and his arms protected from the cold with the addition of sleeves.  
"Fucking weakling..." she heard him mumble once they circled the perimeter again.
Bakugou insisted for them to scout out as many places as possible in hopes for an encounter. He desperately needs any excuse for some action, to use his quirk out of anger. Previously, they patrolled the empty plaza of Tatoone shopping center. Other heroes were there as well, but still no signs of any villains lurking in the dark. For the third time, they met up at the center of the park after making another round, both already tired of the tedious task.
"Just our fucking luck. Still no signs of those stupid villains. I guess we should patrol the outskirts of-."
A bright luminescent beam struck the middle of Bakugou's chest cavity, ricocheting him backwards to slam against the trunk of a large tree, knocking him unconscious instantly. Startled, y/n's eyes frantically searched for the perpetrator, only to meet a pair of glowing green orbs staring right back. She shifted her stance in preparation for their next attack, blocking Bakugou's lifeless body from the villains view. Another beam shot from the darkness, only this time y/n counter balanced the blow by rolling to side, the blast missing her by a couple of feet. Y/N quickly raised to her feet and ran head first towards the dark figure. Without preamble, the figure shot multiple beams at the hero, each one emitting from the void of their chest.
Y/N dodged the bright suffocating strips of light, her feet shuffling and heart racing due to the adrenaline rush. However, she miscalculated her next move which allowed the figure to strike her left shoulder when she was distracted for a split second. Pain shot throughout her shoulder blade. Eyes drawn to a close, her hand shot up to cradle the injury. The intense sensation started to spread from the upper half of her body to below. Everything suddenly became numb, including her sensors. She couldn't feel the tips of her digits nor move any part of her face. The muscles in her legs soon stopped contracting, resulting in her knees giving out. She felt the hard, coarse ground beneath her as the darkness began to swallow up her line of vision. The last thing she saw was a scuffed up Bakugou laying face flat on the drenched grass.
- Y/N stirred awake, lifting one of her half lidded eyes expecting to see the villain looming over her tired body. But all she saw was the popcorn ceiling sheltering her, an overhead fan turned on and the curtains tightly shut. She slowly inclined her body upright and peeled the covers from her clammy figure. Still in the process of waking up, she made her way to the attached bathroom by the bed and located the sink. She splashed the cold water on her face, letting the droplets drench the clothes she was currently wearing. Turning off the facet, she craned her head to view the damage on her shoulder in the mirror. But how come she couldn't recognize herself?
Tuffs of blonde spiked out from her head. Her eyes weren't the same color either. Red crimson irises replaced the ones she had before. The injury from last night on her shoulder wasn't there no more, but she took sight at how broad they became. And she wasn't wearing her typical pajama top and bottoms. This morning she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of soft sweat pants.
No, this can't be true. This has to be some sick nightmare. Jolting backwards on her heel, she let out a terrible shriek. After screaming for a good minute, she calmed down and rested her hands on the bathroom counter, transfixed on the reflection in front of her.
"I-I somehow transformed into Bakugou!" The deep timbre voice of bakugou replaced her own. She tugged on the unkept hair and knitted her eyes shut. "This is only a dream. I'm dreaming right? I can't possibly be in Bakugou's body."
A loud ringing noise alerted y/n to open her eyes again. It was coming from her bedroom. Correction, his bedroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror one more time before retrieving the phone that was stuffed in a green duffel bag. Her eyes widened. She recognized her phone number on the screen. Knowing the circumstances, she pressed answered and awaited for the receiver on the other end to speak.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"
-
"So, we somehow switched bodies because of being struck by that villains quirk the other night. How long did they say this will last then?" Y/N questioned Bakugou the following morning once they agreed to meet up somewhere in private. Right now they were sitting across from each other on a stone bench by the lake, the morning sun peaking through the tall skyscrapers behind them.
Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, technically hers, and said, "Endeavor informed me it'll probably linger for a good week. He also wanted us to not be on duty till we recuperate from this, saying that the side effects will drain our bodies." He couldn't muster up the courage to stare at her, because all he would see is the reflection of himself. "Unfortunately the villain fled the scene before the others arrived to retrieve us. They're still out there causing havoc."
"This is freaking weird."
"Fucking."
Y/N tilted her head in confusion. Across from her, Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.
"If you're gonna be me for a whole week then you might as well not sugar coat my vocabulary-dumbass."
Right, she now has to devote her time and effort into mirroring Bakugou's explosive personality. But that also means he too has to put on a show in order to persuade everyone he was her.
"Oh, okay..." she started but tensed up when realizing Bakugou was gazing expectantly at her. "D-Dumbass?"
Katsuki groaned as he rolled his eyes at her failed attempt of portraying him.
"This is going to be a long ass week."
- Bakugou grunted in disgust as he scavenged through y/n's closet for something to wear. Every piece of clothing so far hasn't met his criteria of approval to put on his body. There was an unnecessary amount of yoga pants and the most ugliest oversized graphic tees he's ever laid his eyes upon stored in her drawer. Growing up in a household of highly praised designers, the influence shifted his taste in fashion over the years. So, he made the rational decision to make a quick trip to the mall and purchase a few outfits for himself. Considering he's going to be in this body for a whole week, maybe even more, he might as well present himself looking ten times better than she ever has.
He tittered around the mall window shopping, entering store after store leaving with a handful of clothes in plastic and paper bags. So far he bought some outfits that edged a little on the fancy side, but paid no mind to his bank account. Bakugou guesstimated y/n's size during the venture, not wanting to pry or see what's underneath these restricting fabrics. He was about to leave when a frilly-pink themed store caught his attention.
It's a lingerie store, Bakugou thought as he neared closer to the entrance.
Posters inside the displays showcased attractive half naked women clad in nothing but the delicate material. Not to mention they were all posing seductively. An involuntary image of y/n flashed across his eyes, her imitating the same lustrous pose as well as wearing the sheer lingerie like the women behind the glass. Steams of heat practically blowed out from his ears, along with the embarrassing shade of pink panting his cheeks. He clamped a hand on his mouth, eyes widen in disbelief.
The fuck did I just imagine? There's no way in hell that just happened!
He must've been loitering there for awhile because a young girl, possibly his age, was standing in the threshold of the store wearing a pastel pink apron, giving him a welcoming smile.
She spoke, "Looking to shop for something, ma'am?"
Remembering back to y/n's distasteful clothing, he noted that she also lacked having any 'pretty' undergarments. It wasn't that he intentionally raided through her underwear, he just so happen to have stumbled upon the almost empty drawer by accident. In retrospect, he's doing her a favor. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"Yes actually. Can you show me your most expensive set?" - "To your left! That dudes been camping by that spot since the match. He'll snipe you in the open!" Kirishima informed y/n as they both sat criss cross on the cushioned couch.
They've been playing the same game for hours. Y/N prayed for at least one water break or grab something quick to eat since they haven't moved an inch from their spots. Kirishima promised after this match he'll order some takeout for the both of them, but he said the same thing 8 matches ago. All she could do for now was pretend to be immersed in the game, getting a couple of impressive kills here and there, subsequently ranking her to a bronze level. Her digits were beginning to cramp up due to the repetitive moments of smashing down on the labeled buttons on the wireless controller. The screen across from them suddenly went dark and flashed the scoreboard from the recent match. Another successful victory.
"BOOYAAA!!!!" Kirishima clapped his hands and did a celebratory dance. "Ah, good game Bakugou."
Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.
"Kirishima, it's Y/N," she reluctantly reminded him.
Kirishima's whole demeanor went south. He chucked out a dry laugh and nervously started rubbing the back of his neck.
"R-Right sorry. Couldn't help myself. I mean, I am looking at Bakugou. Same face, voice, hair, and scary eyes."
After being battered by the villains quirk, Kirishima and Sun Eater were the ones to retrieve them before law enforcement shortly arrived once the perpetrator fled the scene. They were all under one strict oath to not mention this to the public, or else everyone’s image will tarnished and skew the potential of our future rankings.
"I know. I'm still trying to process this whole thing. I've been avoiding all the mirrors in the apartment since I came back." Y/N stood up from the couch and sauntered over to her designated bedroom for the week. She reached for the door handle but stiffened when a pair of hardened hands rested on her broad shoulders.
"Aye, don't worry so much. I bet you Bakugou is thinking the same thing. This week will be over before you know it," he absentmindedly began massaging the area between your shoulder blades and neck.
Does he always treat Bakugou like this despite that nasty little Pomeranian being a complete asshole to everyone?
"Kirishima?"
"Yeah?"
"What is Bakugou like around you?"
The red head hummed to himself at the random question, thinking of a perfect answer to her curiosity.
"The same how he was in high school except more tamer I guess. But I enjoy his presence none the less."
Then why does he seem to unleash his untamed feelings towards me specifically?
Y/N sighed, obviously not satisfied with that answer.
"Out of everybody, he seems to despise me more and more like it's a game," she said without realizing.
"You know how he is Y/N. He's very abrasive and blunt when it comes to other people's emotions, but deep down I know he only acts like that because he wants to present a strong image in front of everyone," he started. "He's scared of others looking down on him, I know that for sure. But I always looked up to Bakugou from the day I personally got to know him. So, I guess he just stayed by my side because of my admiration for him."
Bakugou is always putting up a front then.
"Interesting...well I'm gonna go to bed now. Thanks for keeping me company," y/n said once again reaching for the knob and opening the door, ignoring the red heads pleas for her not go to sleep on an empty stomach. -
The next day Bakugou found himself inside y/n's bathroom, feet firmly planted on the tiled floor not daring to move an inch. Even though he wasn't in his own body that didn't stop him from paying a visit to the gym this morning. He went extra hard on every machine, not caring about the wandering eyes men gave him while he dead lifted weights. Drenched in nothing but his own glistening sweat, Bakugou entered y/n's small apartment as he dragged his tired feet to the bedroom he was now familiarized with.
Something foul wafted into his nostrils, almost making him teary eyed to the stench. He tried to recall the last time he took a shower. Vaguely he remembers washing his body the morning before he got attack by the powerful quirk. It's been several days since then. This was one thing he didn't want to endure during his experience of switching bodies. He's been neglecting his own hygiene to avoid seeing y/n's exposed body parts. Changing out from her clothes with closed eyes was difficult enough, but taking a fucking shower?! Such a shitty predicament. But he can't smell like this for the remainder of being stuck in this body. He'll die of suffocation.
Ah fuck, that must mean she has to take a shower as well. Or worse, she already has and saw everything.
His eye twitched, lips trembling in fear at what he's about to witness.
Fuck it, I can't go out smelling like shit!
With shaky fingers he began stripping, eyes trained on anything but y/n's figure, the faint sound of the water streaming white noise to him. Her gym clothes piled on the floor, Katsuki slipped into the shower, head titled slightly to view only the shower head. He messed around with the chrome handle, indecisive on what temperature he wanted. Settled onto cold to awaken his sluggish state, he positioned himself under the shower head, goosebumps prickling his skin due to the sudden drop of temperature. Water droplets streamed down and canaled to his lower regions, the sensation relaxing his anxiousness just a smidge. He surveyed the options y/n had laid out for hair care products and grabbed the nearest one. Rubbing the body wash into the palms of his hands, he caught himself, arm mid raised getting ready to wash each crevice of his body.
Shit shit shit shit
The hand in front of him began shaking.
She won't know. It's not like I'm touching her sexually, I'm just keeping her clean for fucks sake!
As gentle as he could, Bakugou washed away the soapy residue, fingers cautiously ghosting over anything perking out. A moment too soon, he accidentally skimmed over her chest a little too fast, the tips of his fingers touching something that was hard and protruding. His breathing hitched.
I just felt her fucking nipple!
But fuck, it strangely felt quite pleasant. Pleasurable even if he had to admit.
He continued on with his previous ministrations, cupping her boobs like a madman and swiping one thumb over the taunt surface to test the waters. A fierce, tingling sensation surged shivers down his spine. An unsolicited low moan spurred out from the blonde.
"Hah!"
What the hell?! Why am I still touching her tits? And why am I enjoying it?
Finishing up his routine quickly, Bakugou snatched a towel from the cabinet and rubbed away all the sinful thoughts desperately from his head, a constant fight between his morals and neediness. Nobody will never know what he committed in the confines of her own apartment. And it'll fucking stay like that till on his death bed.
I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting
For the rest of the remaining day, Bakugou planned on meeting up with Kirishima to hangout. He wanted to coerce the red head into talking about anything other than y/n. His mind needs the relief. He needs this spell to be over with.
He can't stand trying to fit into women's jeans any longer - Kirishima woke up that morning to a chorus of shrieks. Girlish shrieks, might he add. He thought maybe the neighbors were selfishly doing not-so-holy-things at the peak of dawn. But him and Katsuki were resided on the highest level of the penthouse, them being the only residents on the empty floor. It clicked once he heard his name through the thin walls.
"Ah! Y/N I'm coming!" He leaped from his bed and reached y/n's, technically Bakugou's, room in a matter of seconds.
Y/N's body twitched to the sound of the door being slammed open, the impact rattling the very few wall decorations in the blondes space. Standing in the threshold was the friendly red head, huffing and puffing air out of his chest like he just got done running a marathon.
"K-Kiri! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up!" Her words afterwards became a jumbled mess, realizing the predicament she pushed herself into.
"Hey, hey, calm down! Tell me what's wrong. It sounded like you were in pain. Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" The red had to remind himself this was indeed another person inside Bakugou's body, because Bakugou would never apologize repeatedly for the sake of apologizing in his entire life.
Y/N was looking quite pallid now, sheepishly tugging on the black covers of the bed, trying to find the easiest way on how to lay this out to her new roommate.
"Well...I just...I woke up to - ah crap."
Instead of explaining her situation, she pulled back the blanket to show kiri the thing protruding between her uncommonly, muscular legs. Kirishima's eyes widen instantaneously, eating up the pitched tent inside her basketball shorts. Oddly enough, this wasn't his first rodeo upon seeing the blonde with a boner. They were dudes. And dudes living together were bound to witness each other's 'flesh swords', he'd like to put it.
"Oh, morning wood? That's pretty normal. Nothing to fret y/n!" He dismissed her with the wave of his hand. "Bakugou gets them all the time! In fact, I remember he'd get them after sparring sessions back in our U.A days-."
"Okayyyyy, Never mind that! I know I have a boner. Just exactly how do I get rid of it?!"
"You mean, you don't know? Haven't you been taught this in Sex Ed class?" Kiri was actually curious as to why she doesn't know nor remember. He surly does. Learning about the human body by the infamous sultry teacher, Midnight, engraved so much information into his tiny-teenage brain.
"That was considered an extra curricular class. I took a CPR class instead."
"Right well, from what she taught us and from my own personal experience, you gotta rub one out."
Y/N's whole face contorted into a confused mess of disgust.
"Rub a what now?" She asked, although she had a feeling what the euphemism meant.
Kiri's face blotched red, the tint flushing to his chest as well. The man was evidently embarrassed about having this conversation with someone who wasn't Bakugou.
"I essentially mean you gotta masturbate. Ya know, in order to calm down your boner," he paused seeing how distraught y/n became. "It won't hurt I promise you! Don't worry, it feels really good! Like, eating ice cream good! Ah no that's not a good analogy!"
"This is so fucking horrifying..." Y/N poked at the thing, rightfully known as his dick, and kept starring as if it might miraculously subside to its original size.
Kiri coughed, grabbing her attention away from Bakugou's dick.
"He has lotion stashed in his drawer," he started, but malfunctioned seconds later. He revealed something private to someone that bakugou condemned as a 'weakling'. "That is if you need it for lubricant. It's kind of tough to jerk off dry..." his sentence fell off midway.
Y/N mumbled out an "Ok", and retrieved said lotion from the lower bunk of his drawers. She felt a pair of eyes on her. Kiri was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure wether or not if that's his cue to leave.
"Um, thanks Kiri. You can leave now," she plopped back onto Bakugou's king sized bed.
This man sleeps alone. He doesn't need a ginormous bed all to himself.
"R-Right! Well, enjoy jerking off- ah no I meant - I didn't word that correctly! Ah geez, see ya later!" He sprinted out the door like his life depended on it.
Locking the door behind her, y/n forced herself into the attached bathroom, the lotion burning the palms of her hand each second. Once she settled down on the lid of the toilet, she shimmied out from his loose basketball shorts, letting them pool at her ankles.
If there's one thing she learned that morning, it was that being a man had its weird benefits. - "Slow down Bakugou! Let me at least catch up before you black out!" Kirishima was on his third shot while Bakugou just downed his sixth one for the night.
The blonde growled under his breath and tugged the red head by his collar to his mouth.
"Fucking idiot, don't call me that. It's y/n when we're out in public," he loosens his grip and snatches kiri's shot and tips his head back to drain it all down his throat, the burning sensation long gone.
"Ugh, my brain can't keep up with this whole switching body shit. It's been so hard back at the apartment." He internally cringes from the recollection of y/n popping her first boner this morning.
"What do you mean? Has that dumbass been giving you a hard time? If she has, I'll give her a piece of my mind."
"Not at all! She's been a saint while living with me. Which by the way, how come you can't just live at the penthouse while y/n stays at her place?
While Kirishima was talking, Bakugou ordered another round of shots. The bartender shoved a whole bottle of Fireball towards the man, saving him in the future to not ask anymore. The young server gave Bakugou a sly wink and returned back to serving other customers down the line. Cheeks flushed red, Bakugou thinks the man behind the bar was being too nice for his liking. He poured two more shots while keeping an eye on the average looking employee. If kirishima kept babbling, he might as well funnel the entire bottle in one sitting.
"I'm just following endeavors orders. We're not supposed to gain attention from those stupid reporters that camp outside our penthouse," he takes another swing of the warm liquid. "I'd rather fucking be quirkless than mistaken for having any rumored relations with her."
"Can I ask a genuine question? How come you hate y/n so much?"
"I don't hate her, I dislike her. There's a difference."
"I don't know man. Sometimes I mistaken your dislike with love."
"EXCUSE ME? IM NOT IN LOVE OF THAT BITCH?!"
"C'mon dude, I'm sensing a lot of denial from you. Also, shouldn't you be acting like her right now? She's very soft spoken if I'm not mistaken,"
"I'm not in denial idiot. I hate how soft she speaks. I hate how sickeningly kind she is even though nobody deserves it. I hate how she wastes her talented quirk and doesn't see the potential. She's a lost cause Kiri. She won't last for much longer in this field if she keeps this up."
"Wow, for someone who dislikes her as such, you surly sound like you care about heeeerrrrrr," kirshima drawled out in a sing-song voice.
"Shut up and finish your shot, shitty hair."
When the blonde was driving back to her apartment later that night, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel when an afterthought came to him.
His whole reasoning as to why he went out in the first place, and he can't seem to restrict himself from talking about the girl he's trapped in.
Even in this goddamn body I can't seem to steer clear from y/n talk! - Izuku had to do a double take when he entered the small coffee shop. Something about seeing the pensive blonde sitting patiently in a booth by the corner really made him feel like he was sucked into another dimension. Today y/n was wearing a white v-neck with a wool green cardigan and tight black jeans.
Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.
Upon hearing the ding coming from the door, Y/N raised her head from her phone and waved Izuku over to her table. The poor man seemed like he was going combust right there. It's been awhile since he's spoken to his old classmate.
The green haired hero slid into the booth across from her and immediately started speaking Deku language.
"H-Hey Kacchan! Boy it's been awhile hasn't it? I was a little stunned seeing your message this morning asking to hangout. I'm sorry that I couldn't meet up sooner. I had an early patrol shift from 9 to 5. You might know how that feels, right?! Oh gosh I'm sounding like an adult. Can you believe we're adults-."
"Midor- I mean Deku, I called you up to ask about if you have any leads on the villain with the body switching quirk?" She cut him off.
"Oh yeah, that villain has been spotted a few times since the last attack. Of course most of my team hasn't been able to reprimand them. A few close calls though. But I heard two people from your sector got hit by the quirk! Are they doing okay?"
I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.
"That's not true. They got hurt, but no one was attacked by their quirk. I just need to know if you have any information on the quirk in particular and what to do in order to reverse it."
Underneath the table, Izuku fumbled inside his pockets in search for his mini notebook. He still obtained the habit of jotting down everything, literally everything, in hopes the information will provide any source of aide. Izuku became all jittery and excited at the thought of sharing anything with Kacchan!
The small, crinkled notebook was slid across the table, hitting the tips of y/n's knuckles.
"Page 124, the first indent I wrote. It's mainly about my own conspiracy on what the villains quirk is. That was before their first debut of course. But now since we know it's a type of body switching quirk, I tried to pin point on what exactly lifts the quirks effect on the victim," Izuku explained casually while y/n skimmed through the notes and passages. "I did a little detective work on my own and contacted the people who were attacked by the villain. From what I gathered, let's just say- it's a bit taboo ."
This piqued her interest.
"What do you mean by, taboo?"
The man began to wave his hands around fervently in attempt to steer the blonde away from prying more. But y/n swatted Izuku's hand and continued reading the sloppy inscriptions.
Her eyes popped out from her sockets.
"I have to what?!" A few civilians stared in their direction, obviously gravitated to the familiar gruff voice.
"Calm down Kacchan! Why are you so angry for?"
Y/N rubbed her temple all the while wanting to slowly die than endure anymore of this.
"Nothing. Just- Ugh...Is it alright if I borrow this?"
"Y-Yeah! Kacchan can borrow anything from me as long as he returns it!" There was that gleam again in his eyes.
"Thanks Izuku, I owe you one!" She squeezed the greenettes freckled hand before leaving the booth and the shop all together.
Still in the cafe, Izuku sat frozen as if someone walked in with gun. Internally though, he was screaming. -
Y/N: Please call me. It's urgent
It was a Friday night when Bakugou received the cryptic message from her. He was in the middle of  watching his true crime show when the annoying ding from his phone went off. For once, he just wanted to relax his mind and go on auto pilot without stressing his already strained body. It's the whole principle of Friday's. To fuck off and ignore everyone. What's so fucking important for her to text him out of the blue then?
Another acute ding.
Bakugou peeked over his shoulder to see who disrupted him this time.
Y/N: Bakugou, we need to talk. This isn't something to ignore.
He rolled his eyes and retrained his focus on the tv screen.
Ding Ding Ding
"FOR FUCK SAKE!" He released an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, scratching his voice box even more. His fingers typed away aggressively, not bothering to read her previous messages.
BK: Leave me the fuck alone. You're to only text me if it involves with the reverse of this stupid quirk 🖕🏼
Three dots appeared immediately after he sent that. Bakugou started losing his patience while waiting for her response. He hated wasting precious time, especially if there was a second party involved. Her message finally delivered. Bakugou's eyes grew larger in size as he read the text.
Y/N: that's why I'm texting you idiot 🙄 I met up with Midoriya today and he may have given me the solution to our problem.
He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he typed out his last text message to her.
BK: fine. come over then. we can talk about it when you get here.
This time he didn't wait for her to respond back and began cleaning her apartment. - Feeling nervous was an understatement. Y/N felt like she was driving herself to her own execution. Bakugou being the one to carry out the death sentence. She didn't doubt the blonde would be elated at the idea of her being put under a torture device.
Okay, maybe he wasn't too malice to actually do it, but he probably entertained the thought.
Thankfully Bakugou's penthouse wasn't far from her own apartment, saving her much needed gas in case he goes ballistic on her.
The door flew open when she arrived shortly after one knock, revealing a very sluggish looking Y/N shooting daggers at her. Well, at least her body wasn't dressed in bruises or burn marks. That's a win. Bakugou paired herself with a cute crop top and silky pajama shorts. He's got taste she'll give him that.
Her apartment remained exactly the same as she left it when they both were ordered to switch residency's.  Only a few traces of Bakugou were found. Mainly in the kitchen, where all his fancy cooking equipment and utensils were laid out. Unlike him, she ate out almost every night due to the red head being incompetent in the kitchen. He almost burnt down the complex last night. He relied upon his friend to do most of the cooking in their household.
The blonde briskly brushed passed her to sit on the couch, slinging his feet on the coffee table to make himself comfortable. Too comfortable, she noted.
"Well, spill it. What did the damn nerd tell you that could help us with this shit?" He inquired without preamble.
Like a hero, she was here on a mission. A mission that needs to be completed as soon as possible, even if the mission itself was ludicrous. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve the mini book, and flipped soundlessly to the page Izuku marked for her.
"On here it says that the quirk can last up to a week, maybe even more, depending on the victim(s). The effected will experience dry eyes, nausea, insomnia, painful migraines, and uncontrollable shaking due to being inside another persons body. They must let the quirk take its course then," she read out loud, ignoring Bakugou's groans of annoyance. "But, for rare cases, there have been reports of one's libido being greatly impacted. The victim will be in constant, insurmountable pain unless they relief themselves, then the two bodies will return back to normal."
To her surprise, Bakugou didn't show an ounce of indignation after hearing this piece of information. He seemed almost indifferent.
And there's no denying the truth. Both of their hormones have been off the rails. Ever since the incident in the shower, Bakugou has caught himself numerous times touching Y/N's boobs. Coping a sly feel as he cooked, cleaned, and even while he scrolled through his social media.  Sometimes her ass as well to see if it felt good in his hands. Y/N was no saint either. Sporting boners every hour for no particular reason. All the blood rushing to her lower region became unbearable when she didn't take care of it. Kirishima kept reassuring her that it's natural for a man to get them a lot. But how much was too much?
He threw his hands up in the air and scoffs. "That's it? I just gotta jack off and then we're free from this curse?"
This is the part she dreaded the most. An uncomfortable heat flash roused up her face, a deep shade of red inching across her cheeks and nose.
"No. That's not what it means. We basically have to...ya know...," she paused mid sentence, too bashful to finish, desperately wanting Bakugou to put two and two together.
She shrunk in her position as the blonde narrowed his eyes at her.
"We have to fuck each other?" He profoundly acclaimed.
"Don't put it like that! But yeah, technically, we have to...help relief each other in order to switch back."
"If you wanted to jump my bones so bad you could've just asked." He leans back against the couch, arm draped lazily over the shoulder of the furniture, along with a playful smirk tugging up on the corners of his mouth. Y/N's blood ran cold when she felt the tiniest twitch down below. Her borrowed reproductive organ is betraying her!
"Do you want to be in constant pain till this all wears off? Or do you want to get this over with and never talk to each other again?" Y/N shuffled more towards the abrasive man, a strong tidal wave of anger rising within her.
"It won't matter because you always wound up in my presence anyway. Like a fucking pest that won't leave me alone." Without realizing it, Bakugou got up from his spot on the couch and marched over to Y/N, who at the moment looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.
Another thing he hated about switching bodies was the fact that everyone towered over him, despite him being on his tippy toes. The woman in front of him acclimated his height, giving her the upperhand if they were to battle it out right now. If anything he could kick her shins at best.
"Whatever...I'm leaving," was all she said before storming off to the front door, grabbing her things along with her as she grew farther from him.
Katsuki's legs were moving on their own. His hand reached out and grabbed Y/N's forearm, halting her movements altogether. She's clearly enraged, thrashing her body back and forth to loosen his grip on her. He eventually grew tired of her stubborness and secured his grip on both of her arms, trapping her between the door and his body, producing a loud 'thump!'. Although he was in her body, he still carried his strength. In a matter of seconds, both Y/N and Bakugou were chest to chest now, their centers tapping aganist each other.  She averted her gaze to the floor, as if their shoes were more interesting than this whole shitshow of a dilema. Bakugou squeezed her shoudlers, a little too much for her liking, to gain her attention again.
"I didn't say no, did I?" he asked hotly, his warm breath hitting her collarbones. An ice cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her breathing to hitch. Bakugou noticed her sudden stiffness and began rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh of her skin. "Hoho, someone's excited aren't they?"
Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows and backed up further into the wooden door. But her question was soon to be answered as she followed Bakugou's hungry gaze to the prominent bludge taunting from her pants. Betrayed once again by her unstable horniness!
"Guess I'm not the only one," she accuses once spotting the definite wet stain around Bakugou's crotch. He smirked at that.
"Take care of it then," his voice oozed of seduction and want, rewarding him another twitch in your tight pants. The libido was taking full effect now, any animosity they had before was thrown out the window. Past arguments also long forgotten. Their main priority at the moment was to experience the sweet relief of coming undone.
Y/N darted her hand down to the spot Bakugou needed attention from, and cupped his crotch with her abnormally large hand. Bakugou lets out a shaky exhale as her fingers danced around the sensitive area. One of her fingers moved instinctively, feeling how drenched he was in his panties, and rubbed the underside to get a better feel of the sex.
"You're so wet Bakugou," Y/N mused softly. She leaned forward, searching into Bakugou's eyes for any signs of him wanting this to end. But the pool of his irises were blown out, no tint of your original color in them anymore. "Do you want more?"
He nodded quickly, his hair bobbing up and down. Y/N chuckled and removed her hand from its previous position to the hem of Bakugou's shorts, teasingly toying the waistband. She slipped smoothly into his shorts, tickling him in the process, and toyed with the corners of his panties before moving them aside so she could have access to the thing she's been craving to touch. Wetness lathered up her fingers with just one swipe, causing Bakugou to purse his lips and shut his eyes tightly.
"Is Bakugou embarrassed? Are you mad that I have the upper hand now? After all those years of verbally tormenting me, you can't handle my simple touch?" She whispered dangerously close into his ear. During this, she couldn't tell if he was pissed or turned on. Maybe a mixture of both, but she took pride in his strained expression.
"W-Watch your goddamn mouth. Or do I need to shut you up myself, eh?" By shutting her up, he meant mirroring her exact ministrations. The petite hand of Bakugou's latched onto the zipper of her jeans, and impressively dragged it down in one swipe without getting anything caught. He reached into the tight restraints of her boxer briefs and pulled out the hardened dick. He clicked his tongue. "Not to sound like a narcissist, but you gotta admit, my dick looks pretty."
"Just shut up and jerk me off you asshole. I'm starting to see stars," She wasn't lying to speed up the process. Her body felt like it was on fire, including her dick. If Bakugou keeps stalling for the sake of punishing her, then he's going to be seeing white for days on end.
Bakugou tentatively began pumping her, his grip not too tight nor loose on the flesh. Y/N sighed in relief as he swiped his thumb over the slit, covering his fingers in her precum. Seeing that he's giving into her needs, she returned the favor by inserting her index finger inside, not allowing him to adjust once she massaged the velvety walls.
Bakugou arched into Y/N's body, panting harshly against her chest. "H-Hah fuck, slow down. Shit!"
"Take it like a champ, Mr.Dynamight."
"F-Fuck you."
Oh no. Probably shouldn't have patronized him, because Bakugou sped up his languid motions to pure vigorous jerking of the hand. A wave of pleasure shot up through her body, jolting backwards due to the intense sensation. Of course he's a pro at this. What isn't he good at?
Bakugou rested his head onto the crevice of your shoulder since he could only reach so far, and ghosted his lips on the skin, carefully restricting himself to not engage in kissing the area. While doing so, he cupped the underside of your balls, rolling them around in his small hands. They looked so big when being manhandled in her grasp. Y/N stifled her moans as he kept messing with them, all the while stroking her simultaneously. She felt him smile. The cheeky fucker! Two could play it at this game.
Y/N used one of her thumbs that weren't preoccupied inside Bakugou to massage the only place she knew that could make him cum in seconds.  Two fingers inside, one thumb attentively on the clitorous. It was enough to make Bakugou bite down on her shoulder, trying to prevent any moans from escaping his mouth.
"Moan for me Bakugou. I know you want to," she tried to persuade him with more strokes to the clit, occasionally pinching it with her unoccupied fingers. She can feel he was close. So was she. But she needed to coerce him into helping her to finish too. They need to be a team. "Say something Bakugou. Don't you want to cum? If you don't speak your mind I'm going to stop." She couldn't believe the words that were spewing from her mouth. Y/N has never dirty talked before. Nor has she gotten this far with anyone without freezing up. Definitely the libido effect.
Bakugou detached his teeth from her shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. Pleading.
"Go faster. Please." The want and neediness in his voice said it all.
He indeed felt vulnerable and exposed right then and there when confessing his desire, but he couldn't care less. Her fingers inside him were heavenly. A mantra of ,"yesyesyesyesyesyes", left his throat as her ministrations didn't falter.
"Fuck! Keep going. Just like that- shit - just like that... yesssss." His moans were beautiful. Not because they sounded like hers, but the way how he vocalizes his pleasure made sense in the world. Every whimper or moan puts her closer to the edge.
"Are you- are you about to?" He asked quietly, as though he was afraid you might stop at any rate.
"Yes! So close, just keep stroking," it was difficult to form sentences after that, the build up tension in your stomach tightening like a ticking time bomb, making your pleads indecipherable.
But Bakugou didn't want to hear that. He wanted to her to say those three words of encouragement.
Make. Me. Cum
And then, as if his thoughts were broadcasted live, she snaked her hands into the locks of his hair and pulled him close to where the tips of their noses touched briskly.
In a small voice she whimpers out, "Make me cum, Katsuki."
Listening to her instructions, his grip tightened around the base of her shaft and began teasing the slit, never once averting his glare from her own. Y/N's legs turned into jello. It became harder and harder to stand any longer. She needed to release. She quickened her pace and brutally scissored his pussy, the erotic sounds of their wetness reverberating in the tiny apartment.
"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."
Baby
Next thing she knew a strip of white shot out from below, dirtying the hands of Bakugou's. Her body began to spasm. Katsuki didn't loosen his grip, the stimulation becoming unbearable at this point.
The coil within him loosened, the evidence of his climax coating her fingers, allowing his orgasum to reach its full potential.
The pair blacked out for a split second, but recuperated once the light hit their corneas again.
"Shit." "Fuck." "..." "..."
Silence. Then the realization hit.
"I'm staring at you and not me! It worked! Hallelujah!" Y/N exclaimed, feeling herself to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.
"Gross. You got cum all over my expensive shirt," he said, wiping away the white substance with his sleeve.
Both of them went into the kitchen to clean the after math. Bakugou would grunt occasionally in disgust, sponging away the grime. Y/N throughly washed her hands and towel dried them, thoughts stiffly empty and vexed. She broke the awkward tension.
"Well, I guess we should call Endeavor and inform him that we switched back."
He hummed in agreement.
"And we should probably exchange our things tomorrow or tonight, but preferably soon since we're going to be on duty again."
Another grunt.
"Don't worry about me mentioning this to anyone. We can just keep whatever happened minutes ago between us-
Bakugou cut her off entirely by smashing his lips against hers. Shell shocked by his action, Y/N kept her eyes wide open whilst Bakugou's were knitted shut. She laid her hands on his chest and shoved him away harshly, putting their distance at arms reach.
"Bakugou, what the hell? All of sudden you want to kiss me?" Y/N's face fell, contorting into a mixture of sadness and confusion. "You only kiss people you like. Not hate."
Bakugou moved towards Y/N slowly, a hint of a smile forming as he neared closer.
"And that's exactly why I did it, idiot," he proclaimed confidently, cupping the side of her face. The touch was so tender and gentle she forgot that it was Bakugou at first.
"You're toying with me, aren't you? The libido is probably still lingering. If you really liked me, then tell me the exact moment you did."
Without hesitation he said, "The first day of school. When you walked in."
Y/N slapped the hand from her face, her skin flushing red by his blunt confession.
"Stop lying. You were mean to me the first day of school. And every day after that. I don't think calling people a "weakling" or "stupid" constitutes as liking someone."
All he did was chuckle and continued scooting closer, eventually towering above her. She squirmed underneath him. She secretly missed having his height.
"You're absolutely stupid if you think I really meant any of that crap. I may have gone overboard on the whole berating thing, but that was just my way of pushing my feelings away, in hopes you'd improve better and not take shit from people like me."  
"Ya know, it's kind of hard to detect that when you were practically spitting on my face."
He leaned down and pecked a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead.
"You can call me all the names you want later. Kick my ass if ya want, but for now let me make it up to you," he whispers before planting his mouth to hers again, only this time she didn't protest.
Heat swirled within her as she watched Katsuki's eyes flutter close, enriched in the moment to open them, and gripped the base of her neck to apply more pressure into the kiss. The man guided her as he moved his plushed lips ontop of hers, consuming the pretty noises she made. And my, were they absoultey rich coming from her.
I want to hear more, the selfish thought banged repeatedly inside his lust filled mind.
Y/N nervosuly closed her eyes shut when Katsuki's wet tongue prodded the entrance of her tight, lipped mouth. Letting him take full control, Katsuki managed to enter the strong muscle into her wet mouth and explored the canvernous place with such eagerness, such tenacity. Like he's been dying to do this for as long as his skillful mind can remember. Y/N found herself moaning as Katsuki grabbed her waist and forcefully collieded their bodies together, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Her perky tits put him in a trance, remincseing back to the day when first touched them, the guiltiness eating him up from the inside-out. Katsuki slithered one of his hands to the taunt boob and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Y/N to squeak out in embarrasement. They still feel fucking amazing in his hands.
"You're so fucking cute," he drew back from her, already out of breath. Everything was hitting him like a tsunami. He can finally admit to himself that he's been wanting this since they became co-workers. Hell, since the fucking beginning. Younger Katsuki would deem him as a horny loser who lost at his own game, but he wasn't a damn kid anymore.
"K-Katsuki...bedroom?" her hands found their way back into his crisp locks, futher egging him to comply. The small action made him moan.
"Fuck yes," Katsuki growled out and in a haste hooked his arms underneath the back of Y/N's thighs, hoisting her in the air to lead them into the bedroom they're both familair with.
Journeying to her bedroom became a difficult task. If only she'd stop giving his neck, the most sensitve spot out of his entire body, kitten kisses then he'd be plowing her back by now. He grew weaker by the second as the shy, acute kisses trandsitioned into full on sucking and biting. Not that he was complaining.
Katsuki threw her down onto the bed, unable to contain his smile when she hiccuped a chorus of giggles. God, even her giggles are fucking contagious. Strong arms scooped her up momentarily, bringing her to the center of the bed. Grazing her aching spot was Katsuki's growing buldge. Y/N circled her arms around his tiny waist squeezing him closely as Katsuki rolled his hips downwards to meet hers. She seized Katsuki's bicep, whimpering, and rythmically pushed her groin towards his, the tin material of her shorts scraping the surface of his jeans deliciously. His head dragged down to her collarbones, panting softly, wetting the skin from the condesation of his breath.
"I want you so fucking bad, please," he managed to choke out in between the continous grinding.
Gaining a newfound confidence, Y/N mimiced the way how Bakugou unzipped her when they were still in opposite bodies and peeled back his briefs till his inflamed member popped out, smacking his lower belly. He cursed under his breath noticing the immense amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. As much as she wanted to lick it all up, there were other things to tend to. She shimmied out from her skimpy shorts and crop top, not wasting any time for lingering touches. But Y/N caught a menacing glare in his eyes. His attention was focused on something else. Looking down, she saw that she was sporting a sheer laced bra with matching panties. She definitely doesn't remember having these in her personal closet.
"You bought me lingerie?" Y/N tried to sound unfazed at the thought of Katsuki willingly purchasing these pretty undergarments for her. That must mean he's seen her boobs!
"Yeah? So what if I did. Your sense of fashion is nonexistent. I pitied you that much to where I bought you shit with my own money."
His face was stern, scarily resembling the times he'd be bashing someone's head on the concrete during a bloody battle. But his eyes told a different story. She couldn't quite pin point the time or place when she witnessed the same gleaming spark in those vermilion orbs, but she felt safe and wanted all in one.
So she began teasing the straps of her bra, head still in disbelief that the blonde underneath her bought it, and let the material slip off her shoulder seductively. Bakugou's breathing quickened as he watched y/n toy with the next strap. He stopped her midway.
"No," his fingers were ironically cold.
"No?" She questioned him, awkwardly frozen still on his lap. His evident boner pushing up against her sex, making her wet even more.
Numbly, Bakugou pulled up both of the straps to her bra and chuckled lightly to himself.
"I wanna fuck you with this on. It's been on my mind since I bought it," he admitted out loud.
Y/N held back a moan, his words carrying so much weight to them all the while directing it straight to her drenched pussy.
Without saying a word, y/n left acute kisses on Bakugou's neck, trailing it down further and further till she reached the leaking head of his member. He became antsy as she wrapped her petite hand around the base, fingers tracing the topography of his veins. Y/N saw the desperate look on his face and took all of him in her mouth, holding in the breath of oxygen she took before doing so. Bakugou hissed, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip nearly ripping the skin apart. This feels way better and more appropriate. He prefers her wet mouth over her fingers any day of the week.
Y/N sucked in her cheeks, allowing herself to take more of his member. The tip of his head eventually hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and choke due to the sudden pressure.
"F-Fuck. Holy shit, keep going," Katsuki begged, tears swelling in his ducts already.
The saliva from her open mouth created a natural lubricant, making it easy for her to bob her head up and down. Bakugou's ears picked up the erotic wet squelching sounds coming from her as she kept up the brutal pace, the noise alone making him want to come undone. The sight of y/n slobbering on his dick is now engraved in his head. He let out a wanton moan when she played with his balls, recalling the memory of him performing the same ministration on himself with her beautiful hands.
He can feel the familiar sensation spreading down below, his throat constricting as the stimulation of her sucking and licking becoming too much. Before she could continue, Bakugou reached over and lifted her head by her hair.
"I can't hold it in any longer. I need to be inside you now," his voice was strained to point where it came out as a whisper.
Pushing her back gently, Bakugou latched his mouth onto hers as he spread her legs wide apart. Revealing a canal of her wetness dripping from her panties to the inner thighs. Bakugou licked his lips hungrily. Mentally slapping himself for not tasting her before she gave him head. He'll make sure to explore that endeavor later.
Lips still locked, Bakugou tugged the bottom half of her laced panties aside, strings of her glistening wetness shimmering, and positioned himself at her aching entrance. The tip of his cock teased her folds, coating it even more. He agonizingly went in slow circles, occasionally slapping her clit with it. Y/N's arms were above her head, clutching the linen sheets in anticipation. Katsuki smirked against her lips at her wrecked expression.
"Bakugou please...," y/n pleaded with her full chest. She wants to know how it feels to be wrapped around him. To be one with him. "Don't hold back. Just fuck me."
Bakugou's eyes grew darker after the demand, pure lust taking control over his body now. He sheathed into her quickly without taking his eyes off of her face. A quiet whimper left her throat when he fully bottomed out. He checked for any signs of y/n looking displeased or uncomfortable, but he got his answer when he felt her legs wrap around his torso, pulling him in as close as possible. Bakugou basks in at the sight of y/n sucking him completely, her legs fully bent back in an awkward position. He decides to pull his cock halfway out. y/n whimpers due to loss of friction but gets rewarded seconds later when Katsuki rams his cock inside again, pushing all his weight onto her.
"Oh, fuck, Katsuki!," she whines, instinctively clutching her walls around him.
"You're so tight for me huh baby? Can't help but to clamp around this dick," Katsuki sneered while pumping tentative thrusts into her.
His hands clasped both of her thighs now, pulling her towards him, urging her to move in a harmonious dance with him. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, y/n fucked Katsuki back by rolling her hips, a synapse of heat exchanging between them. Sweat starts dripping down from the crown of his forehead onto the peaks of her breasts. Lost in thought, he tipped his head forward and lapped up the remains of his salty musk, tongue expertly twirling around the taunt nipple. Y/N mewled, hands searching - reaching - for anything to ground herself, settling on interlocking her fingers with Katsuki's nitroglycerin drenched hands. She titled her head and took a whiff.
Caramel and soap
A popping sound went off in her ears. Katsuki released her swollen tit only to look up with hooded eyes, his infamous smirk on full display.
"Open your mouth," was all he said before raising one of his fingers that she was so embarrassingly fixated on moments ago. When she didn't obey Katsuki grabbed her by the jaw and shoved not one, not two, but three fingers in her mouth. Like with his cock, she couldn't handle the intensified pressure in the back of her throat, gagging instantaneously.
"Atta girl. Just take my fingers like a good bitch. Oh? You like it when I degrade you huh? Don't lie, you tightened instantly when I said that." Katsukis pace sped up rapidly, pumping into her cunt like a madman, fingers still lodge down her throat. Each thrust left her shuddering for more, his hips meeting hers to create a loud song, the noise drowning out her muffled screams.
It became hard to see now, a tunnel vision of just a crimson glow. Soon she feels herself becoming light. Katsuki grew impatient and flipped y/n on her stomach, a tiny oof rocked out from her, and inserted his member back into her stretched out cunt.
Y/N yelps as Katsuki's cock hits the sweet spot - fresh tears flooding down her flushed face, babbling nonsense into her pillow.
She caves, sobbing, "yes, yes, ohgod. you feel so good. you're so fucking good -ah katsuki!"
Looming over her trembling body, the blonde slows his harsh thrusts to a savagely slow grind. He lowly chuckles watching her writhe and wiggle her body in desperation.
"You think you can just come that easy? Beg for me to let you come!"
Smack!
A harsh sting rattled her lower back, causing her to bite down harshly on her lip to avoid showing any pain.
"Such an asshole..." y/n huffed out, oblivious to the way how Katsuki was preparing for her next punishment.
Smack! Smack!
"Not good. Ask nicely for me to fuck this pretty pussy into the mattress."
More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.
"P-Please Katsuki..." she begins, frustration growing exponentially with every word. "Fuck me. I need your cock. I always needed your cock Katsuki. Make me scream out your name when I come!"
She didn't even have time to process what she said before Katsuki enclosed his hand around her throat, forcefully dragging her writhing body to his chest, cranking her head in a 90 degree angle. Cock still warming up her insides.
"That's my girl," he said before kissing her lips again, devouring the sweet noises she made.
Her neighbors were in for a long night. - Both of their bodies the next morning faced more damage than any crusade of a patrol. Bruises painted the outskirts of y/n's body, trailing from her thighs to the divots of her breasts. Katsuki paid no mind to it, seeing how he can make a bloody lip a trailblazer look.
Even though no one wanted speak much about the issue at hand - last night was a pivotal moment for their relationship.
Because y/n wouldn't be making a fresh batch of coffee for the Katsuki Bakugou in her kitchen right now.
Because Bakugou wouldn't be lounging by her washing machine, waiting for the timer to go off so he can put her bed sheets in the dryer.
They found themselves sitting comfortably in silence - the soft whipping of car horns outside her cracked window - Katsuki blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. It all seemed unreal to her. In any other circumstance they'd be at each other's necks by now, screaming nuisances in the air. She considers this whole ordeal a ruse. But it isn't. Thank god it isn't. Because Katsuki never looked calmer or relaxed in his entire life till now. And she wasn't going to bat an eye away from this ground breaking phenomenon.
Intently watching him drink from across the table, she ponders if Katsuki liked her from the get go, and maybe just disguised his feelings with disgust towards her later on. The question will go unanswered, possibly until he confides and tells the story himself, but for now she was content not knowing the what if.
"How did you know I like black coffee?" Katsuki asks, quirking up an eyebrow at her.
Y/N takes a long drag from her mug, indulging in the sweet taste of the caramel creamer.
She smiles and says, "I don't know. Just took a wild guess."
-
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cttrajan1206 · 3 years
Note
#arrow sys#Love them#Absolute sweethearts all of em#And suoer fun to sprint with
FIRST OF ALL SOBS /pos
second,,, i know nothing abt twst or obey me but grabby hands at a ramble; i will absolutely listen if you wanted to talk about it :starry:
JSHDJF [WAILS ALOUD] I TOOK SO LONG SO GET BACK TO YOU THAT I FINISHED ONE OF THE WIPS IN THAT TIME LMAO!!
Well!! This is good promo! :> The one that i was typing up is finished now and it's the obey me fic! You can find it here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/33644662
Mammon and Movies:
Basically! Someone read another fic of mine that included my self insert flappy stimming and also getting mental breakdown so it asked if i could include a couple other stims in another work since he enjoyed my first one! I. Took that request and made an entire fic dedicated to him lmao. So! I asked it later on for what it would like me to include and which character to use and here we are!
This is a 4K fic of Mammon from Obey Me paired with a Neurodivergent!Reader. The plot is that of him showing you a magic trick and smoothly whipping out a movie ticket!! You've been wanting to ask him to see a movie with you for a while so this is perfect! So perfect in fact that you're overwhelmed with happiness and have a brief moment of being nonverbal as you're overwhelmed with euphoria. Then the next day, you meet him at the venue and the date begins! Other scenes include him allowing you to hold onto his bracelets as it's one of your stims (he wears one of every texture to accomodate to your tastes), you dissociating out of anxiety in a movie theatre and him helping to ground you, and finally! Him sleeping on your shoulder before the movie ends.
Ik i kinda just said the majority of the plot lmao but! Its just a fluffy and sweet movie date! I enjoyed writing it a lot although i got about 80% of it done a month ago and tyn didn't touch it for like 2 weeks sjdbsjd i was p sad abt that. I like finishing things quickly esp when its for other people!! But it was a comfort during a hard time to write this work at 2am under the light of a night lamp and to the tune of street life ambience.
ALSO I FOUND OUT THAT MAMMONS OFFICIAL SONG "ARE YOU READY" LEGIT HAS NO HOURLONG LOOPS AND THAT WAS A HARD HIT TO ME BC LIKE I WANTED TO LISTEN TO IT ON TV BUT IT WASNT HAPPENINGGG TWT WHY DOES EVERYONE LIKE ALL THE OTHER OTHER BROTHER'S SONGS INSTEAD LIKE PLSSS
Anyway lmao i'm quite happy with this work, it feels very round and finished to me which makes me happy because it means I didn't need to worry about editing it to feel satisfied. The requester liked it a lot too! Which made me super super happy. :>
Now!! For the twisted wonderland!! That’s a comfort plotline of mine that doesn’t really have a title yet and is still a wip that is written through my friend’s DMs BUT! I will also take the time to promo my twst writing blog! It is dead QvQ On there, you can see a bit more about the self insert in question but for now, i’ll just put the ship name as the title.
https://twst-sumi-squad.tumblr.com/
Kalim Al-Asim X Sumi Bint Khattar (Plot line):
So!! This one stemmed from me drawing something out of self indulgence and to show it to my friend, I described Sumi B in full and then I told them about my ships and around that time I had like five love songs I was obsessed with. And for each of them. I had. A separate animatic. For like at least 1 ship, the average was two but one had three. Sumi B was the centre of the most ships but not the only one. Anyway!! I told my friend about this and asked if I could dump my ideas onto them! They agreed and I started with a summarised version but then realised I needed a bit more build up so I started to write it in a bit more detail. Hah. It ended up being a Lot More Detailed but even then, I would write the scenes in a much more fluid and descriptive way if it were Real Writing so! I call it a Plotline. It is very long.
The plot itself is. long now. it’s a slowburn lmao because most if not all of my self insert ships tend to be slowburns. But this one? This particular self insert? Sumi B? Yeah she’s the only one with trust issues so she mothers the BIGGEST slowburns known to history. It takes them a year before she even considers him a friend despite seeing him every day and also having multiple deep conversations with him. Anyway though, this one is a big comfort becuase it has something I didn’t really dare to do before. Kalim, the canon character, falls in love with my oc first. Normally I have it the other way round becuase I’m too scared to assume that I would be like, deserving or like desirable enough for someone to have a crush on me. But with Sumi B, even I have a goddamn crush on her lmao. I indulge myself a bit with this one and really play around with emotions and!! In the most recent scene! We have finally reached the part where she actually starts to love him back! :D
I started this one a loooong time ago, at least a month and maybe two? It was Intended to be finsiehd in one night and then i got carried away and my friend got invested and then I ALSO got invested and so I started to develop the plot further so make it more interesting and keep the buildup going. It’s very fun and though i try to limit myself to summarising actions and dialogue, i fail. very often. so it often has little tidbits of more beautiful sentences and tension lmao. 
This particular fic is based off of my imagined animatic for the song “Would you be so kind” by Dodie! I didn’t know about the song until i saw other people’s animatics and I ended up taking it and running away haha! I’m currently really happy with it however I am really dreading the day where I actually write it out properly. If I don’t? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll post the plotline by itself. I have another fic just like it, one with a different self insert who (in fact) is very very close with Sumi B and considers her his older sister, that i ALSO wrote in semi detailed plot lines in someone’s DMs. Both are massive comforts to me and though i love them, their plot lines are so goddamn long that i will dread the day i decide to write them all out.
So uhm!!! Yeah!! XDD Those are the two fics I was talking about! I hope you enjoyed my small ramblings about them haha. I’m starting college soon though so I fear I might have much more time for fanfic.
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missorgana · 3 years
Text
you shine, i'll shine for you
pairing: alina starkov/genya safin, background nina zenik/matthias helvar
fandom: shadow and bone (tv)
rating: general
word count: 5163
warning: referenced cheating, swearing
summary: Genya thought she’d seen it all, until today, where a young person her age rushes through the door and approaches her with a strange question, “What sort of flowers do you get to tell someone to go fuck themselves?” (flower shop au)
(a fluffy au that’s been loooong underway !! inspired by this post, naturally. had a bit too much fun searching up flower meanings as well so... hope you enjoy!)
read on ao3
Genya believes flowers speak their own language.
They show love, adoration, and everything in between, and there’s a reason they’re used for most special occasions, she thinks; although a staple gift when you barely know someone, they’re also an invitation to get to know someone better.
Like Nina and Matthias. It didn’t surprise her in the least that he wanted to ask Nina out, alas, he asked Genya for help on the bouquet, since he just started. The look on her friend’s face when she told her about their fast date was too precious.
And naturally, this is why she opened her little flower shop in the first place. She loved the area, homely and cozy, the atmosphere and the residents.
She’s helped their clients with gifts for any situation you could think of; a last minute anniversary gift, flower arrangements for that big fairytale wedding, the perfect Mother’s Day bouquet, and the businessman getting flowers for his beloved sister’s grave touched her deeply.
Genya thought she’d seen it all, until today, where a young person her age rushes through the door and approaches her with a strange question, “What sort of flowers do you get to tell someone to go fuck themselves?”
She’s simply baffled by the request.
The client’s got restless hands and fire in their eyes, dark hair in a braided bun and wearing a baby blue dress, neck and ears dressed with gold jewelry and a matching septum piercing. They’re almost glowing in the late autumn sun, to be completely honest.
In fact, they’re already reaching for their purse, while Genya tries to work through her confusion and do her best - this is an assignment like any other, she reminds herself, this is her job.
“Oh, uh, depends on the occasion, really…” she starts, and since the customer in front of her curses themself as they find their wallet, the clear anger on their face intensifying, she figures she’ll need to keep her cool, “If I may ask?”
In customer service you’ll have to deal with rude clientele, God knows Genya has, and although this person in no way seems like  that type of person, she still keeps it a priority to not upset them anymore than someone else already has.
She smiles, giving them less of her staple customer service smile, more a hesitant smile because the client also sniffs, and wipes their eyes rather stubbornly before looking back at her.
They’re also more beautiful than sunflowers in bloom, that much is obvious. But someone’s hurt them, and it makes Genya’s heart ache for them with a stinging kind of certainty.
“Sure,” they reply, sniffling again, “My boyfriend’s cheated on me for the second time.”
Second time? Dear God.
Genya doesn’t even know this man, but she does know he’s an asshole, mind the language. She’s sure she must look shocked, because the client chuckles bitterly, clutching their wallet a bit tighter.
“I just need him to fuck off for good. It’s long overdue, really.”
She decides to smile again, nodding, hoping she’s conveying her sympathy right, “I understand.”
And since she gets a timid smile back, albeit still with clenched fists down their side, it makes Genya a little more sure of herself again. If the person wasn’t pretty before, they’re even prettier now. She mentally curses whoever this man is for making them this angry, and making them cry. No one deserves that, but especially not them, Genya thinks.
Luckily it’s a Monday, a slow day for flower sales, and they’re the only customer inside, so she’s reaching for her encyclopedia immediately.
“I do know a bit about flower meanings,” she explains to them, “It’s not common knowledge, but I got a few ideas.”
The client nods, satisfied, and their eyes turn a little less angry and more curious.
“What’s your budget?” she asks while flickering through the pages, and the person in front of her takes less than a second to answer, “The biggest you got, he- We were supposed to go to Paris, so I’ve been saving up. Got some money to blow.”
What a fucking douchebag. Again, excuse the language, but this really sounds like the sort of person who’s drink she would gladly spit in. She might be really excited for this bouquet, now. Serves him right.
Everything that jumps to her mind should be in stock, actually. Genya’s never had to look up negative meanings to the flowers before, admittedly, but she does find some scribbled notes in what appears to be Nina’s handwriting next to the black roses.  Revenge roses. Okay, maybe a bit too sinister, but she’ll keep them in mind.
She finds herself moving out behind the counter before she knows it, and when she picks up the first bunch she notices her client looking over her shoulder in an adorable kind of confusion, so Genya speaks up, “These are yellow carnations, they signal disappointment.”
They nod again, the small smile on their lips growing just an inch brighter. Their hands seem more relaxed, she finds herself noticing.
“Perfect,” they approve, “Is there a hate flower, you think?”
The bluntness no longer surprises her, and since the client huffs at themselves, Genya returns the smile with more certainty. Fair enough, she decides.
“Yes, surprisingly enough,” she chuckles, “Orange lilies. I also have foxglove for insincerity?”
“Oh, definitely.”
“I thought so,” Genya likes this person, she decides, probably way more than she should for a complete stranger, but… can you blame her? 
She likes the guts it takes to make a bouquet like this, to be honest. And it’s like they keep getting prettier and prettier the more Genya looks at them, is that crazy? Probably. Matthias would roll his eyes at her, but she and Nina both know how cheesy he actually is, so whatever.
This client is also getting a hate bouquet for a soon-to-be-ex, though, so she’s real with herself, she can’t allow herself to get attached or anything. Would be unprofessional, regardless, but she can admire them anyway, right?
“What else, what else…” Genya wanders a bit more, her client following in tow, she’s got the centerpieces, but the white of this flower would add nicely to the overall look, “Meadowsweet! It, uh, it stands for uselessness.”
The person in front of her lights even more up at the suggestion. She’s thrilled, because honestly, not only helping them but also maybe, possibly impressing this client is suddenly very important to her.
“Alright, I think that’ll do nicely,” she finally tells them, writing the names and price ranges down on her notepad. “Unless you want to add some geraniums, too?” The customer looks at the sample she shows them, biting their lip in contemplation.
“It’s beautiful,” they confess.
“It is,” she agrees, “But it also signals stupidity.”
They laugh at that, a ringing sound like bells or… butterfly wings, maybe. This is just about making Genya’s whole week right now.
“Yeah, I need those.”
And so it’s decided, and she returns to her counter with the notes and shows the client the different bouquet sizes. She figures they might need a card, too, “I don’t have any ‘Fuck you’ cards, unfortunately. Will a blank one be alright?”
They nod, more eager than ever.
“Actually,” they’re running their finger over the sheet with the sizes before looking back at Genya again, “I know this is a big ask, but I was gonna leave the bouquet at his office. Do you think… we could, maybe, cover his desk in these flowers?”
Yet another suggestion that has her standing wide-eyed.
The client chuckles at themself again and fumbles a strand of hair behind their ear, “I’ll pay whatever it costs, I promise. If it’s even possible, that is.”
Genya considers this, and well, it’s definitely possible, they’ve got enough stock for it. The same thing as decorating a chapel for a wedding, sort of, but on a smaller scale. It’s doable.
“I do think my delivery guy can carry it, actually,” she replies, hoping Matthias won’t ask too many questions, but oh well, “We would need entry to the building, though-”
“I have the keys.”
“Oh.”
This person is well prepared. Genya loves it.
“It’s just really a matter of how many bouquets will be needed…” she’s thinking hard, an office cubicle is what she imagines the client is talking about, not too hard to fill up, realistically, “20? Will that be plenty?”
They full-on grin, “God, yes. Make it 22. I, uh, I got cash.”
And so it’s sorted, and a promise of scheduling the delivery for Wednesday, said soon-to-be-ex’s next work day, is settled. Matthias delivers the flowers a little before 8, the customer lets him in and they carry the load together, foolproof plan, Genya’s sure. “This is his number, Matthias Helvar, if you have any trouble, running late or getting into the building, whatever it may be.”
“Thank you so much for this, seriously,” they’re smiling almost from ear to ear, and honestly, she’s a little embarrassed that making this particular person as happy as they appear to be is making her feel so… warm? “This is perfect. I cannot wait to see his face. And walk away.”
It’s a funny sort of bonding experience, or feels like it, less than a transaction. 
Before the client leaves, Genya gets their contact information in return, and an excited wave as the doorbell rings them out. Alina Starkov, the card says, and she/they pronouns right underneath.
She wonders if she’ll ever see them again. She doubts it. But she hopes she’s wrong.
*
Genya does, in fact, see a particular client again, one that for some reason stays on her mind after the delivery is done and in the five weeks till she sees them again, embarrassingly enough.
Matthias didn’t ask a lot of questions, besides the wide eyes and then looking the happiest she’s seen him since Nina kissed him for the first time. He didn’t need convincing, to put it simply.
“Whoever this Alina is, they got some guts,” he laughed to her while they were packaging all those flowers for him, “Practically covered our expenses for the month.”
That’s true, it’s lovely, that pure luck that sometimes hits them like a flood.
She’s over the moon, but of course, she doesn’t mention the part of it being because of that person’s bright smile replacing dried tear stains, and how the change made Genya feel like she’s never done anything more important than making her happy. God, Safin, Nina is rubbing off on you.
The boy lets her know the delivery went smoothly, and that Alina thanked him profusely, but that’s as much as she knows before the bell rings on a late Thursday and Nina’s voice calls from the front of house and reaches to the back where Genya is currently cutting stems.
She dries off her hands in their signature lavender apron - credit to Nina for that, as well - you’d be surprised how dirty a day’s work can get, and Genya takes care not to ruin any of her many, many floral dresses. Yes, she wears florals only to work. Once again, sue her.
She’s not sure why her friend would need assistance, she rarely asks for it, yet, there she stands.
Alina Starkov gives her a smile once again, but it’s less timid today, in no way tearful, instead calm and curious. Like they’re happy to see her, almost.
“Genya! Hi!” she says, and she’s more than a little surprised, much like their first meeting. Did she ever introduce herself? “Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing, I, uh, I told Nina how grateful I am for your help with you-know-who. Wanted to thank you in person.”
That’s just way too adorable, isn’t it?
She feels her smile growing without even controlling it, and the brunette next to her is definitely looking like she wants to ask some questions ( many  questions), but she’ll have to wait, geez, Genya cannot be having a romance novel moment in her store of all places.
Realising she also has to collect herself while being in front of the client and her best friend, and not zone out because her inner hopeless romantic is firing up inside her, she decides to brush it off and try to act casual, somehow, “I’m just happy to help. I assume it went as planned, then?” “Better than planned, even. He’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life, I hope.”
Alina laughs, and Genya gets that warm flush inside her chest again. And out of the corner of her eye, Nina looks less curious and more just straight up smug. Damn her.
“I think Matthias is calling me,” is actually how Nina first speaks up, and while the client nods, like they’re away in thought, Genya sees right through her.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“You didn’t?” her friend questions, tilting her head, already moving towards the door Genya just came through, “Oh, I did. Can’t leave him hanging, might be urgent.”
“Nina-”
“Back in a jiffy!”
She’s left alone with Alina. Which is fine, you know, they were alone when they first met, right- but listen, Genya is still very much thinking about the person saying her name and the realization that she is, of course, wearing a name tag hits simultaneously with another shock: she  remembered her name.
Logically, that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Gosh.
But she knows it’s not because it’s a shocking experience and more that a person who’s as beautiful as them is smiling at her and that they might just be the prettiest person she’s ever seen and that the thought of making her happy is making Genya happy, believe it or not. She doesn’t understand why this is different from any of her other experiences, but it is.
She hasn’t seen a smile like theirs before, that she knows. It makes her feel all strange and bubbly, like drinking champagne.
However, Alina is speaking up again, so Genya desperately needs to get out of her head.
“I was actually… uh, wondering if you’re maybe able to help me out again?” she starts, looking a tiny bit nervous, “If you’re not busy, that is, oh my God.”
And maybe Genya shakes her head way too quickly, but sue her, “Not at all!”
The client grins, the blush in their cheeks surely must be from the cold wind outside, and it just makes them prettier, if that’s even possible. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Now, she’s gotten this nickname before. Of course those times weren’t from Alina, and she makes sure to hide just how flustered she’s becoming, shaking her head and swinging her hand, “Stop it. I’ll try my best, heh.”
Alina clears her throat before continuing, “My best friend’s coming home, I haven’t seen him in over a year, and… Do you have, like, friendship flowers? I wanna surprise him at the airport.”
Once again, the person in front of her is just downright adorable. It’s almost frustrating.
Genya chuckles, because she doesn’t need the encyclopedia for this request, and easily makes her way over to the roses.
The client looks over the bouquet she picks up with the very same joy as their first meeting. “Yellow rose is  the friendship flower, actually! Usually put together with violets, but I can change it up if you want…?”
“No no no!” they hastily reply, already taking the offer of grabbing the bundle, looking down upon it with visible dimples and eyes shimmering with excitement, “They’re perfect. Mal’s gonna love them, I know it!”
“Ah, I hope so.”
She feels almost shy with all this flattery coming her way, especially from Alina, of course, and once more she thanks her just about five hundred times before hurrying out the shop, phone chiming in the distance.
Even after they’ve left, Genya still cannot believe they came back. And remembered her. Or like, specifically sought out her help, again. Huh.
Nina immediately peeks her head around the corner when the front door has shut, her face lit up like it’s Christmas Eve, “They seemed nice. And pretty.”
“Nina,” is all she can come up with, giving her best glare, while her best friend feigns innocence.
“Yes, Genya?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
She sighs, “Just don’t.”
*
If Genya’s second encounter with Alina Starkov wasn’t surprising enough already, imagine her shock when she finds exactly this person entering her shop two months later. Events requiring flowers aren’t constant, which, again, is why she didn’t expect to see her ever again, but she’s not complaining, of course.
She’s working the counter when the door opening reveals Alina, their golden earrings present as always and her hair in two buns, wearing a cropped rainbow sweater and dungarees. Looking just as pretty as last time she saw them, oh God, that fluster’s coming right back.
Except she’s not alone this time. Alina’s got a taller stranger in tow, with curly hair, lip ring and pink floral shirt layered over possibly the most ridiculous graphic tee Genya’s ever laid her eyes upon.
Her recurring client waves when they spot her, heading straight to her, while their friend is almost spinning around in awe.
“Hello again,” Genya greets her, because fuck, she might just get excited over the mere sight of them. Meeting again. Is the universe trying to tell her something?
It’s an absurd thought that shouldn’t matter at all, get yourself together, she tells herself.
“Hi!” They seem even more excited than last time she saw them, and Genya wonders what the occasion could be before Alina continues, “How’ve you been?”
There’s that funny feeling again.
It’s kind of like a lump in her throat, this time, but still as bubbly and warm as before. It’s also just endearing for many different reasons, one being that she rarely gets customers twice, or thrice, and casual conversation is never as easy as theirs. She’s overthinking it, definitely.
“Busy, but good,” Genya tells her, and is about to return it, while remembering their companion, “You? And sorry, ah, I’m Genya.”
Alina’s eyes are like fireworks, almost, and she waves over her friend who’s entranced by the lilies. They’ve got a spring in their step as they make it over to them.
“This is Jesper,” they introduce them, and the tall stranger winks in greeting, “Jesper, this is Genya. I told him all about the shop, cause you’re like… the queen of flowers.”
Oh my God, why is she so sweet? It almost makes her feel embarrassed, the two of them looking at her as she imagines a blush rising just from the client’s words.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Right back at ya!” he replies, one hand in his pocket and another gesturing wildly in the air, “This is amazing, by the way. I see why Alina goes to you for stuff like this.”
Genya laughs, feeling strangely more comfortable and less nervous now. Still, she figures she should probably get to business, they wouldn’t have come here if they didn’t have a purchase in mind, right? As much as the compliments are much appreciated, Alina being the source of them is yet again making her slightly incapable of functioning normally. 
She can only hope she’s improved at hiding crushes since high school, because, well… that is what this is. Genya can’t really lie to herself anymore, or pretend it’s nothing.
It’s making her slightly breathless, this person appearing and reappearing in her life.
But she does need to get over it, because as she tells herself every time, Alina is a customer and she is a salesperson. Her life isn’t a rom-com, as tragic as that may be.
“I hope your friend liked the flowers,” she said, not even needing to wait for a response as they lit up again and confirmed, dimpled smile and all, “Can I help you with anything today?”
Alina nods and hooks her arm with Jesper, “You know it. Friends of ours just got engaged, we wanna have a, uh… tiny celebration for them.”
“By that we mean surprise the shit out of them,” he follows with no hesitation, and Genya and Alina laugh, in syncron. Alright, that’s also totally fine.
“I’m sure we can figure something out for that,” she tells them. She figures flower meanings are less necessary this time around, and when she spots the bottle of champagne and heart shaped box in the client’s tote bag, she decides on a simple question, “Well, red roses are the classic. Most romantic. Do they have any favorite flowers or colors, and such?”
Jesper seems to be squinting in concentration, and Alina bites their lip. It’s quite endearing.
But the client’s eyes widen, then, and they blurt out with only a beat difference, “Pink!”
It comes out as a half-yell, actually, judging by the sweet elderly woman from down the block jumping in the other end of the shop, and Matthias nearly dropping the bunch of tulips he’s carrying onto the back of his bike wagon. The two look awfully apologetic during it all.
“Inej’s favorite color,” Alina explains with an embarrassed giggle, ducking their head, “It’s pink.”
Genya nods, “I see. How about… pink and white lilies, then?”
Jesper seems to smile in approval. “I like that. See, I would’ve just gone with pink roses.”
She gives them a sample, which they both seem pleased with, she hopes so at least, while chuckling once more at his statement, “Could work as well. But these are popular for gifts, they symbolise admiration.”
Her (favorite) client scrunches her nose with as big a grin as hers, already made up their mind, “I think she’ll love them.” And Genya, of course, feels a massive honor in helping them. Again. She can’t believe Alina’s come back two times. Gosh, she’s thinking too much.
“I’ll write these up for you, then,” she tells them while they’re already following her to the counter. At the same time, Jesper’s got furrowed brows in a thinkful sort of face, and Genya doesn’t really know if this is directed to Alina or herself, nevertheless he wonders aloud, “Not sure what my favorite flower is. You got one, Alina?”
“Duh,” the shorter person answers, without hesitation, “Sunflower. Everyone’s got one, right?
Sunflower .
In her mind, nothing else has made as much sense as this. This was the flower she first associated her client with, what their beauty could only be compared with. They shine, so much it’s near blinding Genya, at this point. Yes, she knows it’s cheesy, but it’s only in her head, after all.
Genya realises this question, however, is very much meant for her, and so she answers while typing in their total, bouquet already wrapped up to go, “I think so, yeah. I think your favorite means a lot for you, as a person.”
The taller man seems to consider this.
Then, “I like daffodils.”
“They mean rebirth,” she tells him, “Good choice.”
He looks pleased by her explanation. Alina seems to be the one deep in thought now, though, in fact, they’ve already paid and got the bunch in hand, Jesper saluting Genya in goodbye when the client asks, “What’s your favorite?”
As many times before, they never cease to surprise her, do they?
“My favorite flowers?”
She nods.
“Magnolias,” Genya needs no time to consider this, it’s easy, “Perseverance.”
Alina’s got her wide grin again, but… it changes, a little bit. It’s almost secretive. Promising. Regardless, Genya doesn’t know what to do with her thoughts about it, or the client bidding them their own farewell with, “Till next time!”
She’s quite sure this person will be the death of her, sooner or later.
And as if they could read her mind, Nina and Matthias appear at her side, the man’s arms crossed and her best friend’s arm around his waist, both looking at Genya like they could somehow dig into her brain and know all her secrets. They’re so annoying sometimes. When they’re not adorable. Mostly annoying, though.
“What are you two looking at?” she asks them, and the couple exchange a look before Nina grins.
“They asked for your favorite flower,” she says, her boyfriend nodding in agreement. Genya doesn’t know what to say.
“I know.”
Matthias cocks a brow, “You do?”
She scoffs in disbelief at whatever game they have going on, “Yes?”
Her best friend sighs and puts her free on her shoulder. She tilts her head, “Matthias asked for my favorite before our first date.”
Genya frowns. “I know.”
Nina then chuckles, because they’re both weird and wonderful at the same time, apparently, “You’re impossible.”
“I know what you’re suggesting, Nin,” she then says, because come on, it’s obvious what they’re implying. And it’s bullshit. It was just a question, you know? It must’ve been. Curiosity, that’s all. “But  that  is impossible.”
And because Nina’s looking at her in disbelief, she tilts her head in return, and her friend gives up on the staring contest soon enough. “Whatever you say, babe.”
*
As Genya expected, although much to her disappointment, it seems she won’t see anymore of her beautiful client with raven hair and smile like the sun itself, tragically.
It’s her own fault, really, getting… a bit too attached. She’s fine!
Of course Nina and Matthias are right about her crush, she already knew this. And a month after their last meeting, she admitted defeat just so they could get off her ass about it. Now, though, her best friend looks at her with a sad smile sometimes, like she can sense the disappointment that Alina’s presence is missing entirely from the shop.
They don’t have anything requiring flowers, she didn’t expect them to, all the time. And like, asking for Genya’s favorite flower didn’t mean anything, as her friends kept insisting. They were having a conversation. Customer and shop owner.
Why does she miss her? God, Genya needs to get a grip. It’s just a bit annoying, because she doesn’t feel bubbly and light anymore without Alina Starkov, and she still loves her job,  of course , but maybe she does find herself a little bit jealous when the wedding season kicks in and the boutique is full of couples day in and day out, young and old, all looking at each other like no flower can compare to their love. It’s making her a little nauseous, not that she’ll ever admit it out loud.
Strangely enough, she does get a visit from a couple, a grumpy fellow and a woman with a soft smile, who never let go of each other’s hands while Genya sketched out ideas for the flower arrangement. They wanted geraniums. She somehow recalled her name: Inej Ghafa. And Kaz Brekker. Huh.
Matthias’ birthday passes, where Nina gets him cornflowers (of course), and a month later yet, a familiar face returns when Jesper stumbles in the door in excitement, eagerly purchasing a bouquet of irises for his boyfriend.
Even her mom’s in love, she tells her over the phone, and God, she’s happy for them all. Maybe Genya’s just been lonely too long.
She hadn’t even thought of dating in forever. Hadn’t thought of being single could possibly bore her, or tire her. Until, you know. Alina.
Whatever, whatever!
She’ll get over her stupid infatuation, eventually, she just needs to focus on her work, it was just a string of coindences, and once wedding season is over she’ll forget all about her favorite client who got away. Hopefully.
The universe has way, way different plans for her, though, apparently, because as she and Nina lock up for the evening, Matthias helping them carry the last load of a busy day even though this is technically his off-day (probably an excuse to be with his girlfriend even more, she suspects, but hey), Genya stops in her tracks in the parking lot.
The couple a few steps in front of her appear totally unfazed. They must know what’s going on.
And her suspicion is right, because Nina’s grinning from ear to ear when she looks back at her, “You okay, Gen?”
Genya blinks in disbelief.
Her car. It’s completely covered in… in  magnolias.  She can barely see any trace of her car, in fact, if it wasn’t for the lights blinking when she unlocked it.
What the hell is going on?
She’d had a rather normal day, busy but normal, and scheduled to drive back home to her mom for her birthday early tomorrow. But this is strange. Unreal. Not necessarily in a bad way, the flowers’ smell reaches her all the way over here, but just strange.
Matthias cocks his head and grabs Nina’s hand, “Aren’t you gonna look at your gift?”
“My… my gift?” she asks him, not sure what to say anymore. They definitely had a hand in this. “You already gave me gifts yesterday,” she tells them, dumbfounded.
Her best friend rolls her eyes, “It’s not from us, dummy.” “Who’s it from, then?”
“Shh! That’s a surprise.”
“Nina,” she warns, feeling the exhaustion take over her ever so quickly.
The brunette kisses her cheek and then tugs at her boyfriend’s arm towards her own car. Matthias winks. Screw them.
“Take a look!” they yell to her.
Well… okay then. Genya approaches her car slowly, only a little scared someone’ll jump out from the mountain of pink flowers and scare her half to death. Of course, this isn’t a prank, because her friends are bad at pranks, and the magnolias are so gorgeous she may be getting a little teary eyed.
These little ones reminded her to keep going, when she was at her lowest. It’s stupid, but she felt like she could overcome anything, learning the flower’s meaning and finding a blossom outside of her window back then, like a little reminder from the universe. That’s why they're her favorite. Perseverance.
Bugger, she should probably get started on digging her vehicle out from somewhere in there. Except… her eyes fall upon a little pink card, secured on the wiper. And on it, her name is written, in cursive, gold letters.
Her curiosity takes over, of course it bloody does, and she picks up the card immediately, and when she flips it over…
Is this a fever dream?
Happy early birthday, Genya Safin. Call me? Sincerest wishes (and apologies for the car, grand gesture), Alina Starkov.
This is most definitely a fever dream. Except the card is very real in her hands, and the smell of the magnolias embrace her like a warm hug, and her friends honk as they leave the lot, laughing audible even with the windows all the way up.
Alina’s phone number is written at the bottom, underlined and everything, with a tiny heart next to it.
A grand gesture. A grand romantic gesture, at that. Genya cannot for the life of her stop smiling, big and in shock and flushed and excitement flowing through her veins.
They remembered.
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rwbyvein · 3 years
Text
Firen Lhain: Chapter 706: The Great Beasts:  Part III/III
The eight sat in the back of the bullhead as they flew back to the tower. "Alright," Jaune said, "Before anyone asks, I think we're all going to want to shower when we get home. What time is it?" he asked.
"Just after 16 hundred!" Taj shouted from the front.
"Then let's say," Jaune continued, "we'll meet at 18 hundred to talk about it over dinner."
"That's a LOOOONG shower." Nora stated.
"Nora." Ren admonished.
"Hm?" she asked.
"They might be otherwise occupied during that time."
"Meaning?" Nora asked, until it occured to her, "OH!" She then let out a nervous laugh.
Jaune then looked between his wives, "In the interest of fairness, I won't talk about it until then."
"What are we going to do in the meantime?" Ruby asked.
"'Shower'" Nora said with airquotes.
"Am I missing something?" Ruby asked, and Yang pulled her in for a hug.
"You'll see, sis." Yang whispered.
* * *
Jaune walked in the office to put the paper down and then walked back out. "I can trust everyone to not go in there?"
"Even Weiss?" Ruby asked.
"If she wants to get spanked." Jaune replied.
"A connundrum." Weiss said contemplatively.
"Uh-huh?" Yang asked, pulling off her top, "Enough of this." She then reached behind her back to undo her bra. She did it so vigourously that her breasts bounced around delectably as she pulled them off. "I can't be the only one looking forward do this after a day in the woods."
"Looking forward to what?" Ruby asked.
Yang then slipped off her short skirt before hooking her fingers into the panties, "Maybe we can make the tower shake again."
"No." Jaune said. "I'm a little tired, so we'll have to make this quick."
"An hour and half is quick?" Blake asked.
"For us, it seems." Weiss replied as she slipped out of her dress.
* * *
Jaune slowly hobbled down the stairs, RWBY moving passed him. They were all moving at a relaxed pace, but Jaune was just moving so much slower.
* * *
Everyone stood around the large table, now with centrepieces. They made it more lovely, but also harder to actually see people on the other side.
"LEADER!" Nora shouted as Jaune walked up to the table, and he had to look beside the centrepiece to see her, giving her a weak smile.
"So," Yang asked, "what the hell happened?!"
"I am curious." Weiss said, and Blake gave her a curious look, "Extremely curious."
"What was that?!" Ruby asked.
Jaune raised his hand, causing everyone to quiet up. He breathed in deeply, and it gave him enough energy to stand up properly. "So, the Black Hart is the King of the Woods, and I'm apparently an Earl."
"Why did you ask to be an Earl?" Blake asked with non-judgemental curiosity.
"That," Jaune voiced, "was actually Ren's idea."
"Way to go, Renny." Nora said as she loudly slapped him on the back.
"Okay?.." Yang asked him.
"He was asking for a number of specific allowances." Ren simply stated, "I turned it into a more general grant. I also felt that if we were the stewards of the Woods, then he would be more willing to accept our pressence."
"Okay?" Ruby whined, "but, i mean?.."
"The Black Hart was created by the Brother of Light." Jaune simply stated.
"I'm curious?," Weiss asked, "why no one has encountered him before?"
"It's kind of simple." Jaune stated.
"Kind of?" Weiss asked.
"He doesn't know what we are." Jaune voiced.
"He described us as between Humans and beasts." Ren added.
"He expels Humans from the woods." Jaune stated.
"But?," Nora asked, "the castle?"
"Someone had to come here?" Yang asked.
"They always had trouble." Blake stated, "I wasn't sure what to make about it. A black beast causing problems. I assumed it was a Grimm."
"But?," Yang asked, "I mean, before it was a castle, it was used for cows, wasn't it?"
"When they had sheep," Blake stated, "they were never attacked in the woods. But, they were harried into leaving. The Humans always came and went with the animals, as a form of protection."
"But, it was used, right?" Ruby asked.
"On and off." Blake stated. "They moved in an out a number of times. In the end, the isolation was too much for them, and just gave up."
"So?," Ruby asked, "they WEREN'T living here?"
"By the time of the Great War, the castle was abandoned." Weiss replied, and Blake nodded. Blake then looked at Jaune.
"Now, the big question, is what did you get out of him?"
"Freedom of the woods," Jaune stated, "the right to hunt and forage. The right to sustainable forestry."
"And?," Weiss asked, "the first thing you did when you saw a great black beast was to ask for the right to... forage?.."
"He?," Jaune asked, "talked to us."
"That's it?" Weiss asked, "He talked to us?"
"He didn't have a Grimm mask." Jaune said, "As I said, hang back until we find out what it can do."
"What the fuck was that?" Yang asked.
"hm?" Jaune asked.
"You?," Weiss intejected, "equated feeling out an opponent's modus operandi with... talking to someone who looked like a Grimm?"
"He didn't have the mask," Jaune said, "skull?, whatever."
"And so?," Weiss asked, and momentarily paused to collect her thoughts, "your first insticts were to talk to the mayhap-a-Grimm?"
"What if it attacked?" Yang asked.
"I'm quite durable." Jaune stated.
"That's your answer?" Yang asked.
"He knew where we were." Jaune stated. "If I didn't come forward, there's a good chance he would have attacked us."
"So?," Yang asked, "he would have attacked us anyways?"
"Why did it have to be you?" Ruby asked.
"Because?," Jaune asked, "I wear armour? I have a shield? My primary fighting style is extremely close range? The rest of you are good at swooping in at the last moment and saving me?"
"He makes," Blake said, "several, good points."
"Unfortunately," Weiss stated, "he does."
"It doesn't mean I have to like it." Yang stated.
"No," Weiss fretted, "it does not."
"So?," Ruby asked, "Jaune did something crazy, and it worked out? I do that all the time."
"And it never ceases to surprise," Weiss stated, "and unnerve."
"My point is we should be happy." Ruby emphatically stated, "Jaune did something amazing."
"At that," Weiss voiced, "there is no doubt."
"Not that any of us doubted he would." Aurora stated. "Now that the big reveal is out of the way, I have prepared a meal for our hungry Huntsmen and Huntresses."
"And me?" Taj asked.
"But of course." Aurora stated.
"What about you?" Nora asked, and Aurora smiled brightly in reply. "Once I'm sure the rest of you are satisfied."
"We kind of already took care of that." Yang stated.
"We sapped what little energy he had left." Weiss quipped, and Yang just eyed her.
"Was that?.." Yang asked her.
"Perhaps?" Weiss said with a grin.
"The question?," Blake asked, "is what we do with it?"
"Jaune's spunk?" Yang asked, causing Weiss to cough.
"Perhaps a little too rich for her blood." Aurora interjected.
"It is blue." Blake stated, and Weiss started flushing light blue.
"Well," Ruby added, "the obvious answer is show Ironwood."
"That's obvious?," Weiss asked her, "is it?"
"No, I like it." Yang stated.
"And the sisters agree." Blake stated, "Either the world is going to come to an end, or they are right."
"Damn straight." Yang said, "I mean, uh?, darn."
"What was that?" Weiss asked, and Yang looked about nervously, before looking her back in her eyes.
"It's just, now that I'm certified as a adult," Yang added, "I figured I would start acting like it."
"Like what we did in the bathroom!" Ruby exclaimed.
"Well, no." Yang said, "Okay, I mean, well, yeah, obviously, and I don't intend to stop, but I mean, like, not swearing, and not being such a hothead and whatnot."
"Being a hothead is one of the most amazing things about you." Jaune said to her, causing Blake to eagerly nod.
"You can count on us to cool you off." Blake said to her.
"We so pledge." Weiss added.
"Really?," Yang asked, "I mean, I'm always getting us in trouble."
"Not as much as Ruby or Nora." Blake stated.
"You know it!" Nora shouted, and Ruby looked about nervously.
"Just count on us," Weiss warmly said to her, "to be there for you."
* * *
Note: It always bothered me about how they talked about the gods creating before Humans and Grimm, but this never gets brought up in the story.
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flamehairedwritings · 4 years
Note
Hey I love your Jim Hopper hcs!!! Could you do some about jealous Hopper? Maybe with Mayor Kline hitting on the reader? Thank you!!!
Thank you so much, lovely!! I’m so sorry this is late!
as I’ve said before, Hop is not a jealous man.
He’s not. He deals with jealous assholes at work all the time, and he just hates it. Besides, he trusts you.
.................... uhm
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally get a little jealous, though, mainly because he can be a little insecure, in himself that is.
He can’t help but think every now and then, in a tiny corner of his mind, that he doesn’t deserve you, that you could do better. He can’t help it, he’s always been insecure, and after his divorce and you being his first proper relationship since then, it has just exacerbated it.
He hasn’t had those feelings in a loooong time, though. With your love and care, he’s worked through it, and trusts you completely.
And then came the fair.
He never used to attend it, but this year, when you’d come home from work with the leaflet, eye-wide, smile wide, he’d begrudgingly agreed to go.
When the day came, your excitement was kinda infectious, especially when you’d classed it as a date, so he’d dressed in his new, favourite, tropical shirt, washed and brushed his hair, and had nearly thrown you on the damn bed with what you’d dressed in.
You’d held hands in the Blazer as he drove, laughing and singing along to the radio, both of you the most relaxed you’d been in a long time. It was getting more and more rare these days that you get an evening off together and actually do something with it, though you’re also quite happy to sit on the couch and hold each other as you half watch something.
This is exciting, though, something different, something new, and who doesn’t love a fair?
Once he’d parked up, you’d gotten out and held hands again, your eyes wide at the lights and sounds and laughter. He’d taken a breath and, though it’s not particularly his scene, he seizes the opportunity to just spend time with you.
And he soon relaxes, his arm going around your shoulders, around your waist, his hand back in yours, laughing as you do, and trying his damn best to win you a damn toy. He excels on the coconut shy and the shooting games, winning you whatever you want. You’re both soon hungry, though, and you grab a free picnic table as he gets in the queue for food, his hands in his pockets.
A couple of people will talk to him in the line, and he’ll be polite and talk back, then Callahan will bump into him and talk his ear off while he eats cotton candy. Hop will half listen, nodding and humming and glancing over Callahan’s shoulder at you.
The fourth time he glances over his shoulder, he’ll see that you’re not alone.
Mayor Larry Kline.
Hop has... not much of a relationship with him. He has to meet every week or so with him of course to report on what’s going on in Hawkins and to just be seen to be doing so, really, Kline never really listens and just kind of waves him off as everything seems to be fine.
But even from the short meetings he’d had with him, Hop knows what kind of man Mayor Kline is; a sleaze.
He’s charming, handsome, witty, everything a successful politician is.
And Hop watches you laugh at something Kline says.
Watches the way Kline talks to you, engaged, animated, attentive, and it... it makes something twist a little inside him.
Hop knows who he is, and knows that you love him, he knows you do, but... sometimes he wishes he could be more for you, that he could hold a room, be charming like Kline and make you beam with pride. At seeing Kline with you, he forgets that you already do that when you see him.
Running a hand down his mouth and beard, he keeps his eyes fixed on you, Callahan still going on and on, oblivious.
Kline laughs charmingly at something you say... and rests a hand on your knee.
He’s too busy staring at the hand, that he doesn’t notice you tense slightly and try to shift it away as you laugh politely.
Then, Hop’s striding out of the queue, ignoring Callahan’s ‘what the hell?’s
You were sat on your own, smiling to yourself, so happy with how the evening was going, that you and Hop were getting to spend real quality time together, when you’d heard someone approach.
Getting ready to say no, the table is not free, you’d then met the gaze of Mayor Larry Kline.
You’d smiled automatically, wanting to be polite, and he’s the mayor, after all, and he’d returned it, charming as ever.
You’d heard from Hop that Kline had... an interest in woman who weren’t particularly his wife, so that had been ringing in your mind as he’d introduced himself and sat down. You’d never met him, but he knew you were Hop’s girlfriend so even more alarms had started ringing when he’d turned on the charm.
You just tried to be as polite as you could, though, because, again, he’s the mayor, and he wasn’t doing anything that overtly called for you to call him out, and hoped Hopper would be back soon.
‘Wow, you’ve won a lot today, huh?’
‘Oh, no, not me, my boyfriend, Hopper, Jim Hopper,’
‘Ah, yes, of course. It’s good, that you have a man like that to take care of you.’
‘Yes, I’m very happy with him.’
Everything you said, you tried to make it very clear you are happy with Hopper, but Kline either wasn’t getting or was ignoring the message.
‘I have a gala next week, you and Hop should come, I bet you’d be the belle of the ball.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t think so, I think your wife would outshine me.’
He laughs, his hand gently resting on your knee.
‘Oh, I don’t know, you may give her a run for her money.’
Oh my God.
You laugh, politely, and try and shift your knee away, and you’re about to politely remind him of his wedding vows when Hop is suddenly there at your side, his hand settling on your back.
Kline smiles brightly, charmingly, as he looks at him.
‘Hopper! So good to see you—’
‘Yeah, whatever, pal, can you get your hand off my girl’s knee.’
Kline stares at him as you stare at Kline, your lips twitching.
‘... Oh, I was just—’
‘Hand. Off.’
Kline’s hand comes off your knee instantly and he laughs, albeit rather nervously this time, and gets to his feet, straightening his suit.
‘Just a misunderstanding, Hopper, I assure you—’
‘Yeah, I bet, you have a nice night with your wife, Kline.’
Kline’s smile is forced, fixed, and you’re biting at your lower lip to hide your own smile.
‘Well, I... Good evening, have a great night, both of you.’
Hopper watches him walk away until he hears your throat clear. Looking down at you, he finds you grinning.
‘My girl’, huh’?’
‘Well, you are, aren’t you?’
‘Oh...’
Rising to your feet, your smirk wide, your arms go around his neck as you look at him.
‘... Yes, I am.’
His own arms go around your waist, a low hum coming from him.
‘Think I might need to remind a few people of that.’
‘Chief...’
‘Shut up and come here...’
Your laugh will be muffled by his lips descending on yours, and with a single kiss, Hopper will remind everyone in the vicinity that you are his, and he is yours.
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queentargary3n · 4 years
Text
unfaithful
Summary: Sakura is surprised to see Sasuke is the senior associate of the firm she is supposed to start working for. All of her feelings start to come back 10 years after he abandoned her. Sasuke finds out somethings are truly never behind you, and when he starts falling back in love with her, his past comes to hunt him. Her biggest issue? He is already married
Sasusaku Fanfic AU Lawyers. M  FF.net     AO3
Chapter 7
“So, where are we going?” She whispered on his ear, getting on the back of his Harley, holding her ball gown up her thighs, arms wrapped around his middle, before she pressed a mischievous kiss on his cheek.
“Party’s over, I’m going home” He responded, with a hint of seriousness in his tone she hadn’t heard in quite some time.  
“I’m coming with!” she chirped, then continued on a mocked seductive voice, “you know what they say about graduation”
He scoffed at her implication, “We’ve already had sex before, Sakura” He explained, trying to rid himself of any feelings she was bringing up in him, to get out of going home with her, to remember his plans. Knowing if he waited longer, she’d end up changing his mind and making him stay. That just wouldn’t do.
“Yes, but it’s expected! we might have lost our virginities a loooong long time ago” She explained between drunken giggles, taking another sip of the small flask of alcohol they sneaked into their graduation party. “Still, expected it is, and we shall not disappoint! Come on, my parents are not expecting me tonight”
“Fine, let’s go” He relented. He would have to do this the hard way.
She didn’t even question him when he took roads that lead nowhere near his home or hers, assuming, since it was a special night, they were heading to a hotel or something. But when he pulled over the side of the empty highway, and held her hand into his shaky one, she finally wondered, “Sasuke-kun… what’s going on?”
“I’m leaving” He said sternly.
“Where… why?” She asked, shivering when the cold wind caressed her bare shoulders.
He took off the blazer she had forced him to wear to the party over his jeans and t-shirt, since he’d refused to wear a tux, and wrapped it around her, taking one last selfish moment to kiss her forehead, before getting back on his bike and revving it up to speed away.
“Sasuke-kun wait! please don’t leave…” She screamed behind him. Watching as the lights of his motorcycle faded in the distance, her tears felt cold against her face, clouding her vision from the last glance he gave to her. To the beautiful girl, in a bright shinny gown, whose heart he’d just broken.
She felt lost, scared, and alone in the highway that promised nothing more than a long way home, with no one to come back to her. She didn’t know how much time it passed before she started making her way back, nor did she know how long she walked before she reached the corner of their street, where Sasuke’s now abandoned house stood, dark and imposing as the boy himself.
It was then, as she looked into the former Uchiha household that her sadness turned to anger. The numbness that masked the pain she felt from her bleeding blisters, started to fade away. She took off her heels in anger and threw them at the front facing window of his house.
The sound of shattering glass was so loud, it echoed in her ears even as she woke up from her vivid nightmare. She almost thought someone had broken into her apartment as the sound felt so real, the dream so convincing she actually felt as if she was walked all those hours to reach her home.
Her ability to remember details and facts always surprised other people. Sakura always had a knack for memorizing. But this didn’t feel like remembering, this dream felt as if she was reliving one of the most traumatic events of her life, she thought it must be some kind of karmic punishment.
She was fully awake then, much too early for her liking on that Saturday morning, considering the sun wasn’t even up by then, still she was unable, as much a she tried, to go back to sleep, she thought she might as well take advantage of the early start, thinking of the mountain of documents she had procrastinated in completing during the week, on account of all the drama she had to deal with her new employer.
She also remembered she had pending work in the case Naruto had assigned her to. After her glorious day at court, she received a ridiculous settlement offer for her client, so pathetic it must’ve definably be a delay tactic by prosecutors office, she denied it without consulting either Sasuke or the defendant, still she had to draft a counter proposal, which she had also postponed.  
So, she decided to take a run before that, to get rid of the jitters that had her practically bouncing up and down. She put on her sneakers and took off as fast as she could, trying to leave her anxieties behind with every step. She continued until she felt breathless, and her lungs ached in the wake of that cold morning, she noticed  was closer to the building where the firm was located than to her apartment, by that point she decided it made no sense to go back, if the documents she needed were only a few miles away.
She was covered in sweat by the time she reached the office building, her pink tresses sticking uncomfortably to her neck, she had really pushed herself this time, her legs felt unpleasantly numb, lungs practically burning, she wondered how unprofessional it would be if someone were to see her like that.
Ino had explained to her that the office was mostly empty during the weekends, with the exception of the whichever assistant was scheduled to keep watch. So, she pushed the thought of her disheveled appearance out of her mind, it’s still so early and I’ll definitely just be in and out in a flash, she thought.
The offices were open, but every light was off, and no one was at the front desk, since the clocks were barely hitting 6:30am she paid no mind to it. Turning all the lights on as she stepped in, she made a mental note to bring in some flowers and plants to brighten her office up a little, the minimalistic style was much too sterile for her liking.
She threw herself into her pending work, typing almost furiously a much more decent amount for the settlement of her proposal, being a doctor herself, she knew reputation was very important for a surgeon, so she factored in a public apology from the hospital board to Dr. Senju. She was in the zone, although having to wear business attire and heels every day instead of comfortable shoes and scrubs was annoying, she couldn’t deny the fact that negotiations made being an attorney almost as exciting as performing surgery.
Her flow was interrupted by the sudden appearance of red hair behind her laptop, one hand at her hip, the other one holding her expensive purse, Karin stood right in front of her desk, “What are YOU doing here?” she asked. The way she enunciated YOU brought only one word to Sakura’s head. Vicious.
“Sorry Uchiha-san” Sakura said. “I just had some work to do, I didn’t think anyone was in, I didn’t mean to scare you”
“You don’t scare me” Karin replied, although pleased at how Sakura addressed her by her husband’s last name, she couldn’t help when her insecurities towards the pinkette bubbled up inside of her.
It was Karin’s turn to man the office, and although she usually didn’t, she decided to show up that weekend. She woke up before Sasuke did, her actions keeping her up during the night. She couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing that without an actual reason, she had rat him out and without having anywhere else to go at that time, she showed up at the office on whim. She didn’t expect to see Sakura already at the office, typing away with self-satisfied smile on her face.
“Ah… that’s not what I meant…” Sakura said, a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead.
“Whatever just turn off the lights before you leave” Karin answered before she continued, rolling her eyes.
“Okay, no worries, say hi to Sasuke for me” Sakura told her.
That riled her up. That seemingly innocent comment hit her like a slap to the face, she knew what she was doing, Karin was sure. She was going to destroy everything she had work to build with Sasuke Did she even know what she was doing to her and her husband? She pursed her lips and turned to walked away in anger, the clacking of her heels loud in the empty space.
It occurred to Karin then, that she hadn’t had the opportunity to give Sakura the keys to the office. Of course, for security, the entrance to the practice was controlled by card access with their badges. But if the doors were to be locked from the outside… well.
She only hoped that would send Sakura the message, I know what you’re doing, stay away from my husband or I’ll make your life a living hell. She locked the front glass gate that stood between the lobby and the elevator, where the badge reader was located. Of course, she could still take the back stairs and get out of the building, but with it being a weekend the lights of the staircase would be off, lite only by the red glow of the emergency exit signs. The thought of a scared Pinkette, running down 20 flights of stairs in the dark amused her, reminiscent of the days she worked for Orochimaru. Terrifying people to do one’s bidding was a habit she never quite got rid of.
Sakura continued her work, trying to get the image of Karin practically storming off on her. Was it something I said? She wondered. Once she completed the official counteroffer, she emailed it to Sasuke, Naruto, and Dr. Senju, along with the original proposal, explaining in the body of the email, how insulting the offer was, and that she had, of course, rejected it a soon as it came her way, listing in detail why it was unacceptable in the first place. She only hoped, Sasuke and Naruto wouldn’t be upset at her taking the initiative, being a newly hired employee of the firm.
She then immersed herself into the documents that were required of her, as a newly hired attorney, thousands of pages of contracts, and confidentiality agreements, non-compete clauses that she had to read carefully and sign, and date, and initial, over and over again. Sakura continued up to the point that when raising her eyes, she saw lines of letters ingrained into her sight. The sunset disconcerted her, how many hours had she actually spent reading boring contracts if she arrived even before the sun had risen in the first place? This was supposed to be an in and out thing!
She saved her documents and shut down her computer, finally making her way home from her long and unexpected work hours. She dreaded the fact that she would have to walk back all the way to her apartment, deciding instead to call for a ride. She patted her body in search for her phone, freaking out for a millisecond before she remembered where it was, at home in the purse she failed to grab before going for a run. She sighed at her own forgetfulness, how she could memorize complete volumes of law and medical books but forget to do simple things like bringing her phone with her and locking doors was beyond her.  
Turning off the lights, Sakura walked over to the elevator and tried to push open the glass panel doors that separated it from the lobby. It wouldn’t bulge. What’s going on?!
She walked over to the emergency exit to the stairs, resenting the additional physical activity on her already exhausted body. She tried to push the door open, and again it didn’t move. What the actual FUCK! Emergency exits should never be bloqued!! She thought. What am I going to do? Great day to forget you phone Sakura.
X
Sasuke woke up to a killer hangover, lips parched painfully, eyes refusing to adjust to the sunlight, his usual migraine amplified to the thousandth. He stood up from the living room couch where he had passed out the night before, his neck was sore from having slept in a weird position, as nice as the black leather couch was, an expensive purchase made by Karin, it didn’t actually made a comfortable seat, let alone makeshift bed.
He marched to the kitchen, dragging his bare feet on the cherrywood floors, and drank as much water as he could stomach to soothe his hangover thirst. The apartment seemed eerily quiet. Although the flat was large enough for both of them to do their respective activities without  interrupting the other’s, he always managed to catch some kind of noise from his wife, be it the tv from her bedroom, or the inessive buzzing from her always incoming text messages and calls, still the apartment was completely silent, which meant she was not home.
Downing a couple aspirin for his headache and grabbing pajamas and fresh sheets from the linen closet, he went into his home office and laid down on the couch in there, much softer and comfortable than the living room’s, but still not a bed. He thought it was about time he purchased a bed for himself, given they almost never sleep in the same one, even less willing now that he found out about her bedroom activities. He always thought it disrespectful, buying a second bed when his wife expected him on the same room, but he figured it didn’t matter much now.
He looked up at the ceiling, trying and failing to close his eyes and go back to sleep. He remembered the night before with the kind of accuracy he could expect from how drunk he was. Still, a couple of things stood up, the soft touch of Sakura’s fingers coating his cheek with ointment, the shy look in her eyes as she very unexpectedly apologized, her so very beautiful laugh when he, much to his own sober embarrassment, requested her to call him ‘Sasuke-kun’.
She made him feel as if the last 10 years hadn’t happened, like no time had passed and they were just two teenagers together. The feeling of a thousand birds in his stomach, brought by thinking of her, prevented him from relaxing and going to sleep like he initially wanted.
So, he undressed again, putting on a pair of jeans and t-shirt and made plans for his day, go out and get something to eat, call his trainer and get some much needed time at the gym, and then if he had the energy for it, get some work done. He grabbed his training bag and headed out from the apartment. The sun at its highest point indicated that he had sleep past noon, despite of how tired he actually felt.
By the time he was done training, martial arts being the only thing that ever truly relaxed him, he sat in the parking smoking a cigarette, the clock marking already 7 pm, and for the first time in the day looked over at his phone. Lot’s text messages from Naruto, as he expected, mostly containing things like pictures from his baby boy doing something cute, an email from Sakura titled settlement offer and counteroffer and missed call from the office.
She must have some problem with the proposal and finally decided to get help… he thought. It wouldn’t hurt to go into the office now and catch up with the case.
He didn’t like to be out of the loop, especially considering how public this case already was. He drove to the building, expecting to find it dark and empty as it usually was during the weekends.
He nodded in greeting to the only security guard on site and made his way toward the firm. Walking out of the elevator and opening the locked glass gate, he noted how the only light on was coming from his own office, he didn’t give it much thought before he went over and encountered a sight, he was sure to never forget.
Sakura was on the floor of his office, dressed in tight leggings and a lose shirt that hung loosely around her chest and revealed her stomach and tiny sports bra. She was bent over, pink locks hanging above her head and reaching the floor, legs straight displaying her backside to him, in a position he vaguely recognized as a yoga pose.
He almost choked on his own saliva at the sight. He coughed to clear his throat, causing the pinkette to lose balance and drop to the floor startled.
“Sasuke-kun!! I’m so glad you’re here!” She yelled, jumping back to her feet and readjusting her shirt, before she practically threw herself at him, hugging him in excitement, to which he only froze. He could feel the heat spreading to the back of his neck, needless to mention the heat in other areas at the contact.
“Sa.. sa… Sakura, what are you doing…” He stuttered, unable to gather his thoughts.
“Sorry, I took a nap and your office is the only one that has a couch, but it was so uncomfortable, I was just stretching now” She answered taking a step back in embarrassment at her own reaction. She was just so relieved to be saved from actually spending the night in.
Still unclear with that explanation, he asked, “But why are you here?”
“Am… I came over to do some work, but I was locked in… I couldn’t leave… The emergency exit is locked too! Such a hazard by the way!” She offered in return.
“The front door doesn’t lock from the inside” He asked in confusion, someone else had to lock the door from the outside for her to become trapped in.
“Yeah… Karin was here, she must have locked the door by mistake” Sakura explained, since it had happened to her a couple of times, locking doors by mistake when your head is somewhere else, was something that happened to Sakura all too often, especially on her car. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling she had pissed off Karin for some reason, maybe Sasuke told her about how she punched him right in the face a couple of days ago, maybe she was annoyed because she was expecting an apology too.
Sasuke only sighed in response. He pinched the bridged of his nose in annoyance. Why his wife felt the need the need to do things like this he never knew.
“And you’re okay?” He asked, bringing the subject back to the matter at hand. “Why didn’t you call anyone?”
“I did! I called the security office, no one answered, it’s terrible by the way if this were a real emergency, someone could’ve gotten hurt, lawsuit waiting to happen!” She responded, causing a confused look from Sasuke. “I called anyone whose phone I have memorized, but no answers, and I forgot my phone at home too”
Sasuke pulled out his phone, remembering the missed call he had from the office earlier. “You called me too?” He asked her.
“Yeah… I didn’t actually have your cellphone so….” She said, and Sasuke noticed how her face went blue all of the sudden, sweat dropping off her forehead. “I found your card in one of your drawers” Sakura told him, pointing at his desk.
“You went through my desk?” Sasuke asked her, a small smile playing on his face that betrayed the annoyed tone he was trying to portray. She must have not noticed thought, since her cheeks blushed scarlet red as she fiddled with her thumbs and started to explain.
“Yes… Sorry I was desperate! I didn’t know what else to do! It was the only thing I saw I promise!”
Sasuke was amused at her embarrassment, he couldn’t look at her with a straight face as she was muttering excuses about how his business card was the first thing she saw when opening the desk drawer, and how she didn’t look into anyone else’s. It made him glad, since while it would’ve made much more sense to look into Yamanaka’s desk for phone numbers, she only thought of him when she needed help, but he didn’t voice those thoughts, instead he asked, “How long have you been here?”
“Since 6am… I didn’t actually notice I was locked in until a few of hours ago thought, I was reading over some materials and got distracted”
It was so like Sakura to get engrossed in reading and forget about everything else. He couldn’t remember how many times she was late to see him back in the day, because she forgot to get ready while reading some romantic novel she was so engaged in.
“Let’s go then” He said, noticing how late it was.
“Yeah, yup, sure” She stuttered, walking out by his side, staying quiet to avoid embarrassing herself again. She always did say too much when she was with him. His presence completely intimidating as always.
Walking out to the parking lot, he looked around trying to find Sakura’s car among the few left in the building. “How did you get here?” He asked her, already informed that she didn’t bring her phone to call herself a ride.
“Am… I ran” She explained. “I was trying to get some exercise this morning, and I was closer here than to my apartment so…”
“You’ve had quite day” He said, trying to sound as uninterested as he could manage.
“Yeah, no, it wasn’t so bad… I wasn’t” Sakura began, but was interrupted by the loud growling of her empty stomach.
Sasuke chuckled quietly at the sound. “You haven’t eaten” He said, again a statement not a question. He pulled her by the arm, taking her hostage to his car. “Let’s go get you something to eat” He insisted when his pull met resistance.
“I’m fine! I had like 8 cups of coffee” She said.
“Sakura, you’re a doctor, you know skipping meals isn’t healthy” He reprimanded, speaking as if to a small child.
Sakura pouted her lips, she didn’t like to be talked down to. Still she relented, walking over to the passenger side of Sasuke’s car, before that last sentence really resonated in her head. “How did you know that?”
“Know what?” Sasuke asked, already getting inside of his car.
She got inside too, and continued in return, “That… I’m a doctor?”
“Oh… Naruto told me” He mentioned awkwardly. He didn’t want to tell her that most of his conversations with Naruto, and late-night internet searches of late involved only a certain aggressive Pinkette. “When you got hired, for background proposes”
And that was the end of that conversation, with Sakura strangely engrossed in her thoughts while Sasuke mostly basked in the comfortable silent they fell in.
He took her to a fancy restaurant in the middle of downtown, with people mostly dressed in expensive looking dresses and suits. She felt terribly underdressed, with her leggings and lose shirt, that had not too long ago been drenched in sweat. She looked over at Sasuke, who just stood waiting for the maître d to get them to their seats, he was dressed casually in a white v neck shirt and jeans, but he looked stunning, like he someone you would see in the cover of some magazine.
The maître d and waitress definitely noticed, eyeing him down every chance they got, hearts practically shinning in their eyes, as they were handed the menu, which Sasuke took from her hands and returned it to the waitress without letting her look.
“The house steak and cherry tomato salad for the both of us, then the anmitsu for her” He told the waitress without ever looking at her.
“Yes sir” The waitress said, but not before over at Sakura with disgust on her face. Definitely wondering what I’m doing in the presence of someone as handsome as he. Sakura thought.
“Don’t you think I might have wanted to order something different?” She told Sasuke in reproach.
“Do you not like what I ordered…?” He asked, his face completely bank of emotion. He specifically remembered anmitsu being her favorite food, if you could call a bunch of sugar actual food.
“That’s not what I said… just why are you so… bossy?”
“Do you not like it that I’m bossy?” He asked in teasing, flashing her a dashing smirk that made her skin feel tingle. “Besides, aren’t you the one who’s always calling me Boss?”
“Well yeah…” She said, confused by Sasuke’s actions. One day he is amicable but professional, the next day he’s all angry and quiet, frankly an asshole, calling her names and accusing her of sleeping with Naruto, and then seems concerned about her, taking her out to eat and teasing her, some may even call it flirty.
“Have you been diagnosed with bipolar disorder?” Sakura asked suddenly, amazed at her own boldness.
“You’re really annoying you know that?” He told her, “And rude, why would you even ask that”
“Well… because I’m a doctor, and your displaying symptoms commonly associated with multiple personalities” She explained, admittedly she was rude in asking, still his changes in mood definitely gave her whiplash.
“No” Sasuke answered seriously, then stop as the waitress brought down their meal, and asked in a much too friendly manner if there was anything else she could bring him, which he turned down without a pause.
“Eat” He ordered.
“Thanks…” She muttered taking a bite of a small piece of meat, before she glanced over at Sasuke starting with his salad.
“Here, let me” She took his plate from in front of him, and started to cut down the steak for him. She didn’t even know why he’d order something he would have a hard time eating without even asking the waitress to bring it already cut.
“I can do that on my own” He protested but made no move to take the plate back from her.
“I know” She answered non chillingly. “But I want to help”
“Hn” was the only sound he made in return as she handed his plate back.
“So… how did you lose it?” Sakura asked quietly, busying her hands with her salad.
“Lose what?” Sasuke asked, expecting some snarky comment like ‘your mind’, he was well aware of how he’d treated her on the last few days.
“Your arm… I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I was just curious” She said, waving her hand dismissively, noticing the change in Sasuke’s expression.
He took a moment to consider if he wanted her know the whole story about his arm. Deciding instead to spear her the gory details of his tainted past, he said, “Motorcycle accident, 8 years ago”
Sakura figured that’s all he wanted to say in the matter, so she didn’t press. They continued eating in silence until they finished their dinner, with Sasuke observing Sakura attentively while she made pleasing faces and sounds at the taste of her desert.
Sasuke requested the check, which was promptly brought by the heart-eyed waitress. Sakura look at him with a smile on her face, sugar did put her in a much better mood, he noticed, and extended her hand to take the bill, Sasuke handed it without saying anything but still handed the waitress his credit card.
Sakura only shook her head in disapproval, she opened the check, mentally noting how much she owed for her meal, fully intending to pay Sasuke back for it, when she noted the phone number written down by the waitress. Bold she thought, took the piece of paper and placed in her pocket.
They both got back in the Sasuke’s car and drove away to Sakura’s place.
“You didn’t have to do that you know” She said, trying to look at the road instead of looking at his handsome face.
“It’s nothing” He muttered.
“You didn’t even look at the bill… even after the waitress put so much thought in it” Sakura said in between giggles and placing the check in his hand.
“What?” Sasuke asked in confusion, parking in front of Sakura’s building, taking the paper she was offering and looking at the loopy handwritten phone number. “Bold” He commented.
“Hahaha that’s what I thought too… You’re as popular as always” Sakura said, hand in her face trying to cover her giggles.
“I guess you would know” He told her, sporting his trademark smirk.
“You’re right, maybe I should go back there and give her the link to your fan girl website, wouldn’t want to leave her without the pleasure of your godly image”
He chuckled at her joke, Sasuke’s laughs where rare and infrequent even when he was younger, and they never failed in giving Sakura goosebumps and butterflies in her stomach.
“I really like your laugh” She confessed. “It always does things to my stomach, maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to forget about you”
He instinctively reached out for her arm, pulling her in and clashing his lips against hers. Sakura was stunned for a second before she returned his kiss, pressing gently against his lower lip, her mouth slightly open.
He took advantage to the parting of her lips to begin to kiss her more assertively, his tongue fighting hers for dominance. She reached to grab a handful of inky locks at the nape of Sasuke’s neck and pulled, her kiss almost as aggressive as his.
It was as if he awoke a hunger that she didn’t know still existed inside of her. She needed to get closer, closer until there was no more space between them. She bit his lower lip playfully, to which Sasuke responded only with a predatory growl.
He moved down to the crook of her neck, kissing and biting the tender skin, leaving his mark on her, encouraged by the pleasured gasps that escaped her lips.
“Sakura…” He whispered in her ear before leaving another love bite under it.
That brought her back to reality. She pushed him as hard as she could after she reprimanded with a strong “NO” and got down from the car, slamming the door loudly and running away to the protection of her apartment.
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eldonash · 4 years
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Love to an Immortal || Harsh&Orobas
Location: Harsh’s Place Featuring: Harsh and Orobas, and mentions of Carrington @notsoharsh​ Timeline: Beginning of August Triggers: None, its pretty soft Summary: Harsh invites Orobas over to enjoy some wine and blood, and they snuggle on the couch and talk about what love is for an immortal. 
Orobas has been passing his days in a cloud of confusion. It was worn with a blank face, his attitude and temper short, and most of the people he worked with kept an even wider distance. Harsh had suggested they share a couple blood bags, which was frankly so disgusting. Orobas brought instead, two bottles of blood and wine from his favorite dolls. He already had a lot of strings pulling in the right direction involving Lydia. She may have him bonded into a failed situation, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t sitting idly by as it devoured him. No, he was working on gaining access to her house, and he was setting her up for something heinous. 
“Harsh,” he poured the wine in one glass, wanting to smell it and savor the bite of tang and dryness that most food carried. He sniffed it, fingers long and cradling the liquid, his eyes have been blood red since his injury and even now, they were eerie in the comfortable environment. His complexion was grayed, like he was starving himself, but it wasn’t anything to do with that. The scars on his face would always be there from the holy water, small pockets just along his jawline, only caught when the lighting in a room struck his profile. “Before you decided to get rid of your soul, did you ever love someone?” 
Honestly, the stuff Orobas had brought over was better than what Harsh had tucked away in the fridge. He always forgot how much better it was when it was fresh. Maybe he should go for a hunt. Orobas would probably be up for it. It wasn’t like there was much point in playing the good little vampire now. No one was watching. No one cared. It didn’t matter. As days had gone by since that call, it was starting to seem like nothing did. Breaking things, getting into trouble, it wasn’t the same as it had been before the deal. It was all just hollow. 
The question caught him by surprise, but he nodded as he considered his own glass. “Yeah, I did. I think I’ve told you about her… well, a little anyway. Eleanor. She was the one who turned me. But that was a loooong time ago,” he said, pausing to take a sip. Spiked blood at least never lost its appeal. A rueful smile snuck onto his face. “Back then, I thought she and I were going to be together forever, like you and Haxian. But… even before it all went to shit, that might’ve been wishful thinking. I don’t think I really knew what I was asking for. All I knew was that I wanted to be with her as long as possible.” He paused, shooting Orobas a curious look. “Why do you ask?”
Orobas unbuttoned his deep blue suit jacket, exposing a crisp white shirt underneath, and leaned back on the couch, lounged out over sitting stiffly like he typically did. Likely wrinkling his nice clothes, but Orobas didn’t seem to care right now. He sipped the drink slowly, crimson gaze on his friend. “Hm, I hadn’t entirely put that together. I assumed we all have a bit of a relationship with our masters, not always with our consent.” Orobas absolutely hated that Eleanor died, it was a moment he dwelled on for his friend often. “But love isn’t something I’d define it as. It’s, something else-- I don’t know what.” Orobas didn’t think he loved Haxian. He wanted to please him, keep him impossibly close, and it felt more like they were one of the same person versus a partner. A lot of people said often that any definition of relationship with Orobas was also one with Haxian. 
It made more sense at Harsh’s pain, and though Orobas’ face usually lacked much emotion to it, a soft snarl curled his lips as anger coiled easily. “Mhm,” he took another drink, wanting to relax and not fall into the pit of anger again, and the numbness of wine and blood was welcomed. “I’m in a binding with a Fae at the moment. I have to find true love, or I will keep feeling as bad as I have been. Not sure on the time table, but it’s getting a little unbearable and such things will dissolve for me. Last time I felt this ache, I might have picked a fight with a brood in Berlin. Results, more enemies to say the least. I left that Elder with no one.” He glanced over, Harsh with his suave energy and easy smiles, even when he was brooding. 
“Carrington seems certain I already love someone. I just don’t know who. I’m that ignorant over it.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Harsh nodded, even as he scrunched up his nose at the word ‘master’. Eleanor had never been that for him. She taught him and guided him, but she was a partner, not a master. And he definitely wasn’t that for any of the vampires he had turned. Most of them had gotten what they wanted and left, or he had. Maybe some of them had wanted that. Harsh never bothered asking. He could tell them how to avoid slayers or the best places to go looking for people to eat, but beyond that, he didn’t really have much in the way of sage wisdom to offer. “Really? Huh. With how long you guys have been together, I guess I kinda figured you guys would have it all worked out by now.”
Brow furrowing, Harsh leaned forward, eyes flicking over Orobas’s face. He hadn’t missed the way he seemed subdued and the almost sickly color of his face. Fae bindings, he had heard of them, but… honestly, he didn’t know much. Someone had told him ages ago to watch what promises he made to certain people, but Harsh hadn’t given that much thought. “True love, huh? I’m guess the fae didn’t give you any instructions on how to do that. That’s… kind of a fairy tale thing though, isn’t it? I mean, how is your fae promise supposed to know it’s true love?”
That last bit did catch his curiosity. “Oh yeah? Did he say who he thought it was or just that you act like you’re in love or something?”
The two definitely didn’t have anything worked out. They existed, like twin shadows that slid into countries, cities, and homes and tormented the world. There weren’t many relationships formed in their long life. A few at most, and the rest of the world simply passed by. Perhaps that was a problem, but to Haxian and Orobas, existence was enough for them. At least until recently, when Orobas wanted more of something he didn’t know how to define. He was the one straying from the norm, the one causing ripples in their relationship. Four hundred years later, and Orobas still might not have felt every emotion. 
“I barely know love, to add the word true as a defining factor means little more to me. This Fae enjoys power, I understand them profoundly in that way, this was a guaranteed way to keep me from killing them. Something impossible, hm? Not a bad play.” 
Orobas drew his hand up into his hair, and combed it back in a sweep to brush it from his eyes. It was rare for him to ever let himself appear this disheveled, but in the back of his mind there was the second piece to that promise that he knew very well. To be vulnerable in front of them. Orobas glanced over to meet Harsh’s gaze. “Hm, Carrington is a romantic. Someone who sees the world differently even while carrying the same immortality burden. He would be the only one who would think I could feel such a thing, or already have..” Orobas chuckled. “Carrington would believe evil could somehow feel such an emotion. I wanted to cut him up for suggesting it, and he still hugged me.”
Orobas still intently looked at Harsh, “I don’t know what sort of love would fulfill the promise. I was hoping it was you to make my life easier. I do care about you more than others.” 
“It seems pretty unfair if they made an impossible promise. Is that allowed?” Harsh sipped at his drink. That didn’t seem right. But he knew next to nothing about fae. He had met a few in his time, maybe more than he knew, but as far as he was aware, he had never made a promise to one. “Even if they like power that much, swearing you to something you can’t do seems like it should backfire on them. But, I don’t think it’s impossible. It’s just… worded weird, like a fairytale. I think true love is out there for you, man. You’ve just gotta find it.”
He couldn’t remember ever seeing Orobas so messy looking before. It wasn’t a bad look on him. Then again, he wasn’t sure anything would be. Orobas had that natural sort of prettiness to him that even four hundred years had not managed to dull. Harsh had noticed before. He wasn’t blind. “Carrington’s sweet, a little soft though. But I mean, he might have a point. I wouldn’t say I’m romantic, but I figure that love looks different to different people. Yours might just look, y’know, different.”
A slow grin spread over Harsh’s face. “Oh yeah? Well, I am pretty loveable. You do give me a lot of leeway on… well, everything. I know I’m your favorite. I… don’t know if I’m a great pick for your ‘true love’ though. The whole, y’know, soul thing… but I’m working on it. Maybe after, I don’t know, we could see what happens.”
“Who knows, I don’t know enough about the Fae,” Orobas laughed gently, greatly amused at how Harsh worded it. He wasn’t one to read like Haxian did, and the word fairytale always sounded so funny to him. Humans write stories about the supernatural, creating warnings for the future generations, or their children. It almost made what he was so much worse-- their glamoured ideas to what was terrifying a little off from the true monster. 
“Carrington had said that exactly as well afterward, so that makes two of my friends believing in me. How cute.” A deep throb of pain made his eyes close, the longer he allowed this promise to feel unobtainable, the worse it was getting. “You are my favorite. Emotions will probably feel overwhelming and beautiful. I can’t wait to see you kill someone with it-- the rush, the entire moment, the feed. Mmm.” His voice tapered off, the thrum of pain wearing on him even with the blood. Maybe he should have brought one of his dolls over the bottles. Blood wasn’t enough to curb this feeling though. 
“Friendship was omitted with that one little word. True--,” Orobas set his glass down and settled more on the couch, clearly in mild distress, but keeping most of it from showing. “Hm, there is someone that might fall into that, but it’s not something I ever cared to admit. Nor she.”
“Me either,” Harsh said, with a little frown. “Maybe I should work on that. I, uh… sort of still have people thinking I’m a slayer. It would be way more convincing if I actually sounded like I know what I’m talking about.” The fact that it hadn’t actually been an issue so far was probably more just dumb luck than anything else. And given the warnings he had gotten since arriving in town and some of the strangeness he had seen and heard, it would probably be a smart move in any case. 
“Aw c’mon, that’s what friends are for, old man.” He gave Orobas a teasing grin as he shifted, lightly nudging at him with his knee. Preening, he pressed a hand to his chest. “Go on, tell me how much you like me. I could listen all night, baby.” 
Smile fading, Harsh sat up, shifting closer to Orobas. His hand was careful as it landed on his back, moving in gentle circles. “Yeah? Who’s that? If you need help tracking her down, I can do that. You seem… rough, man. And I mean that as nicely as possible. Is there anything else we can do to make this easier on you? You wanna go kill something? That always cheers you up.”
Orobas let himself plop, only five people in existence could see him this way, vulnerable and trusting, and Harsh was near the top. He shifted until his head was in his friend’s lap, tossing his legs over the edge of the couch and closed his eyes. With a gentle shift, he encouraged Harsh’s hand into his hair and simply stilled to enjoy the closeness. “I don’t want to do anything right now, just being with you is nice. You have more friends then I don’t you, slayer?” Orobas asked playfully. “I’m jealous, I want all your attention. Playing with hunters, too. How fun. Have you killed any vampires to prove your role?” 
There would be a time that Harsh might want to not do that. But Orobas understood the thrill if could bring, or the necessity.  “No, I see her often. I don’t even know if I feel that exact thing for her, but of anyone-- less Haxian, I have no idea. There isn’t much I can do though. This is what happens when you break promises on this scale apparently. To be honest, this isn’t nearly as bad as gargling holy water. I’m not sure I will ever fully heal from that ordeal.”
Harsh didn’t need much prompting, threading his fingers through Orobas’s hair without hesitation. The closeness was nice, comfortable. Having someone so ruthless, so powerful curling up with him like a kitten was surreal, but in a good way. “I am pretty popular,” he said, teasing right back. “Hey, you get plenty of my time, babe. You know you’re my number one. Not yet. I’m… kinda hoping it doesn’t come to that. If I do, I’ll make sure it’s not anyone you know. There’s this asshole I turned a while ago--Caleb, he could use a good staking if I need to prove myself. But I’m mostly just trying to lay low.”
Grimacing, he gently stroked Orobas’s hair. No wonder he looked so off. Gargling holy water sounded like a nightmare and a half, Harsh would sooner stake himself than try that. “Well, you might as well keep trying with her, see if the feelings start to click. So uh, why were you gargling holy water? I don’t think you told me about that one.”
“I can get you whomever when you need it. There are always vampires coming here that don’t need to be here,” Orobas said easily. Better Harsh uses their death to his advantage, though Orobas wasn’t very shy about dealing with younger vampires. It was an interesting problem to have, being that Harsh could sever a bond with his own blood, but Orobas didn’t judge him for it at all. It was what it was, if Harsh figured that was worth it to keep up appearances. 
Orobas tilted his chin, exposing the underside of his jawline where pocketed scars now resided in blemish. “It burned through the side of my mouth, and jaw. My gums are scarred over as well, enough that it's always aching to even eat. Hm, she requested it, so I really had no choice in the matter. That is the entire thing, my debt to her must be seen as significant if the magic is so binding. I did weirdly enjoy it though, but I have quite the relationship with pain and torture. It will be fine-- in the end, I will have my way with her.” He seemed to ponder a moment. “Do you think love comes from a place of good, Harsh? Or that it’s designed for mortals? What I feel for you and a few others, never felt like any word was enough to describe it.” 
“Oh yeah? If you’ve got some suckers who need to go, I can take them out. That might be easier. If anyone’s giving you trouble, just let me know.” Maybe it was callous, but Harsh had never felt much connection to anyone he had sired. There had been one or two before he had thrown his soul away, though he had lost track of them more than a century ago. And any that came after… they had their uses, he had taught them the ropes and then moved on. It was better that way. 
Harsh’s fingers were careful as they brushed gently over the scars. “Shit,” he muttered. “How long ago was that? You think there’s, I don’t know, some kind of magic that could fix it? I know a couple people, maybe one of them could make some kind of potion.” That was probably a pretty big if. Still, it couldn’t be that hard to fix, right? His fingers moved back to Orobas’s hair almost idly as he considered the question. “I mean, I don’t really know. I feel like it’s a pretty abstract thing. I think… good and bad don’t have much to do with it. It’s just what you feel, right? I don’t think there’s any kind of checklist to fill out on how love works. But if someone’s important to you and they make you happy, I don’t know, maybe that’s love.”
“There is no need,” Orobas grinned, “though magic is fascinating, my body is covered in such things. It’s just another mark, maybe this time, a small reminder of my slip up. I was due one, you can’t go through time like we do and not make mistakes.” Though what wasn’t said was the obsessive factor in all this, that Lydia could keep hurting him if she desired, it would eventually flip, and his turn would be something incredibly worth the pain and frustration. Orobas listened to Harsh explain further on the topic that drew him here. He could listen to him speak for hours, could maybe even humor falling asleep even if it was dreamless meditation. 
Carrington had been intense and direct with his expressions on love, and Harsh seemed to be easily satisfied with the simplest words; happiness, importance. To a mortal who had circles of friends, and family, Orobas only had a handful. Immortality for him wasn’t lonely, he was satisfied with who he had, but it did make his view on this difficult because of it. “Abstract is a good word to describe it, it almost seems impossible to define. Maybe that will be how I get around it. What it means to me, believing my version of it could fulfill the promise. She doesn’t even need to love me.” He said, but the softest furrows met his brow. 
“Tell me, if love is abstract in how you see it, then how do you see vulnerability?” 
“Yeah, I guess your scars are pretty sexy. I’m more talking about the whole… part where it still hurts to eat and stuff. Cause that seems like it would be rough.” Harsh didn’t think about it naturally. Empathy was one of the many things lost to that hollow inside. But… if he forced it, he could at least say that if he was in pain every time he ate, he would start ripping heads off to try to fix it. Then again, Harsh had never been the type to be patient about that. If there was a problem, he was going to fix it as soon as possible, no matter what it took or how many spellcasters he had to go through to get it. 
“That could work. Loopholes are always good. Unrequited love is still love.” That sounded right at least. It probably wasn’t healthy, but whatever. If this fae was going to jerk Orobas around, making him chase after some fairytale dream, why couldn’t he sneak around to get it? “Vulnerability? I don’t know. I guess… it seems a little like a weakness. But I don’t know if it’s always a bad thing. I think I used to like it, kind of. At least with some people. When I was with Eleanor, I could let her see everything, and it was kind of scary, but it also made me feel… safe. Or like she understood me. So… I guess I see it as being kind of risky, but it can be worth it sometimes.”
“I see,” Orobas could picture Harsh enjoying that time. It was a nice visual in his mind, and compared to others, he’d likely not think about it in such a way. Trust and feeling safe were too rare things in his existence. Even if right now he felt both, along with content, and calm. “I think, I don’t stop to think about any emotions-- now that I have been asking about them. For existing as I have, it wasn’t something that required it. It’s funny-- people make the assumption that I don’t have a soul, and I always had wondered why. Maybe not acknowledging the smallest of emotions has given that impression.” 
He didn’t aim to poke that sore spot for Harsh, but Orobas, even in such a good mood, could be cruel. “I wonder if Haxian can feel love, now transforming-- going beyond what we are. I have never had the desire to mutter such things to him. Through so many centuries. I should do it shouldn’t I? I might get thrown out a window though, and I live in a high building.” Orobas laughed genuninely amused by the visual, there was a lightness in him that he rarely felt. Like the pain from the promise was unraveling slowly without his awareness. “Hm, it’s probably saying too much. But I’m not opposed to learning new things. Come on, read to me. Anything, I don’t care what. Let me rest a little.”
“Yeah? I mean, I don’t think most people think about those things too much. People just kinda feel their feelings.” Harsh laughed softly as he brushed Orobas’s hair back from his forehead then smoothed it down again. Honestly, he had thought the same at first. Orobas did sort of fit the bill, he was similar to other soulless vampires Harsh had crossed paths with. But… not completely. Despite the blood dolls and the casual way he dealt with killing, Orobas could understand other people in a way Harsh had left behind two centuries ago. “I think most people just don’t really get how the whole ‘lack of soul’ thing works.”
Harsh cocked an eyebrow before shrugging as he dug his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve got a couple ebooks on here, some news stuff--oh yeah, I took a bunch of pictures of these books from the old Scribe HQ. It’s a lot of informational stuff, but some of it’s actually pretty interesting.” He flicked through his pictures for a minute before settling on a nice long passage. “This one’s actually about soul stuff. Let me see, ‘the soul is less of a spirit and more a manifestation of the self’...” 
Harsh didn’t even delay. Not a millisecond pause to give him grief over his small request. The undercurrent of exhaustion from not fulling this promise, and even pushing back against it had made him tired. “Thank you,” Orobas hummed lightly, and listened to Harsh read until it seemed like he fell asleep. 
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x-ximenas · 4 years
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Midnight (Pt.1)
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Prompt: Midnight - 5SOS. Future parts are linked to other songs so...
Pairing: Female!Reader/Roger Taylor
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex (I don’t go in full detail, but there are big innuendos)  and my terrible grammar and punctuation remember English’s not my first language.
Word Count: 3,291 words
A/N: This has been on my drafts for a loooong while, but I never had the guts to post it, nor the time to do something about it, so I’m a little rusty -as mentioned in my Nikki Sixx bit- but I’m trying.  Also, if you liked this bit, I’d love to hear some comments! If you’d like to be added to a taglist for upcoming parts comment, dm me, ask me… just communicate with me!
A/N pt.2: Like most of the time, I took a few literary liberties, there are some movie things, there’s some real stuff, so... yeah.
A/N pt.3: If you’re looking to read some Brian stuff, I have a multipart story (pt. 1, pt. 2) -sadly not finished- but if you read it and like it I’ll do my best to do something about it.
// Part 2 //
———————————————————————————————————–
Smile, shake hands, leave.
She crossed one leg over the other just to uncross them again and cross them once more. She repeated this process a couple of times before settling with crossing her legs by the ankles. Now, she started tapping her fingers in a rhythm that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite make out so she stopped to look down at her hands that were resting over her lap, rings adorning almost every finger, heaving she started to play with the one that was on her index.
“Everything’s alright, miss?” asked the kind taxi driver who had been watching her fidget through the rearview mirror.
“Yes, thanks.” She quickly replied, too quickly.
“You got a date?” The driver inquired.
“No.”
“Oh, I thought, considering your nervousness.” He added.
“Oh, no, I’m just… I don’t know, having second thoughts, maybe I-”
“Do you want me to drop you back from where I picked you up?” He asked.
“No, no, no, I’m fine, thanks though.” She smiled.
“No problems, miss.”
She sighed, leaning back on the cab’s leather backseat, folding her arms one over the other as she stared out the window. Like she just told the driver, Y/N was -indeed- having second thoughts, completely regretting telling her friends a thing as she was now forced to actually go to the pub where he was performing. She should’ve turned down his offer right away, he was too drunk and too tired to even know what he was saying:
“Come to my next show, love, you’ll have fun.” He tried to persuade her. She almost didn’t catch what he had said from how slurred the words were, but in the end, she did.
“What?” Was all she managed to say, but he had already fallen asleep, he didn’t hear a thing.
“Miss?” The driver said.
“Yes?” Y/N answered, snapping out of her daydream.
“We’re already here, miss.”
“Oh, thanks. How much is it for the drive?” she asked, rummaging through her purse.
“5 pounds, miss.” He answered.
“Here you go -she handed him the money-, thanks!” She told him, climbing off the car.
Smile, shake hands, leave.
She smoothed out her off-the-shoulders red top and pulled down the ends of her high-waisted shorts that had ridden up when she was sitting down. With a mumble of a curse she walked into the pub, the smell of cigarettes and booze hitting her immediately, she straightened her shoulders and tried to stand on her tiptoes and find her friends but the first thing she caught sight of was a certain blond getting friendly with some random brunette, averting her eyes she kept on looking until she found the small group sitting on a booth.
“Y/N! For a moment I thought you might have bailed on us” Kat mocked with a smirk.
“I couldn’t, I was responsible for this gathering after all” Y/N mumbled with a tight smile.
“Wow, what got your knickers in a twist” Donna practically yelled, hitting Y/N on the arm.
“Nothing, I just didn’t feel like coming after all” Y/N mumbled annoyed.
“But you sounded so excited when you told us earlier this morning, you said they’re really good!” Kat questioned slightly surprised.
“Yeah, I just- I don’t know…” Y/N mumbled once more, looking into the distance, her eyes fixed on the blond man, who was getting dangerously close to the brunette’s face just to pull away with a satisfied grin.
“I’m going for a drink” Y/N told her friends, leaving them dumbfounded.
Smile, shake hands, leave.
Y/N tried to squeeze herself between spaces, not minding to excuse herself when she walked in the middle of someone’s conversation, all that she needed at the moment was a drink, straight -no soda water, nothing- just a straight shot of whatever she can get her hands on.
Suddenly she bumped into someone, she was about to tell them off but she stayed quiet when she saw who it was:
“Roger?” she swallowed thickly.
He didn’t even bother on answering, he just kept on walking towards the side of the stage, the guitarist next to him, Brian she recalled from their conversations
“Don’t be rude, Rog.” Brian said, but he didn’t manage to stop Roger from walking. “Sorry.” He mouthed, Y/N shrugged.
“What can I get you, love?” Ben, the bartender asked Y/N, she already knew the man, she vented to him every once in a while.
“Two shots of whatever.” Y/N replied, Ben just stared at her with worry.
“Two shots of whatever it is then.” He said, pulling out two shot glasses, filling them with vodka and as soon as he was done with his job Y/N downed them in a single breath before slapping a bill on the bar.
“Thanks, now can you give me my usual, please?” She asked.
“Bad day?” Ben asked her, preparing her drink.
“Not really, the early morning was great, but now not so great, truth be told. I always get down with the same shit, you know?” Ben just hummed in response, putting her drink in front of her, and before she could pay he shook his head, declining the money.
“It’s on the house, you need it, love.” He winked and she smiled, returning to the booth where her friends were sitting.
“Hey, there you are! We thought you might have left, we wouldn’t have blamed you, love.” Kat stated, Y/N shrugged her off.
“I’ll be fine, thanks for worrying, girls.” Y/N told them, grabbing both girls’ hands. The three girls kept chatting, sharing laughs and staring at both girls and boys, making Donna noticeably flustered.
All that Roger could do was stare from a distance with a scowl and a pout, his arms crossed over his chest not really paying mind to what Brian was telling him, his focus on Y/N who even from where he was standing could see that behind those laughs and giggles she was off. What a prick.
“Roger! What’s wrong with you tonight? First the incident with the girl back there and now you’re not even listening to me.” Brian threw his arms upwards in exasperation as he let out a huff.
“Wait for me here.” Roger stated.
“Wh-What?”
Roger was decided to talk to Y/N, apologise for being a shithead, and almost as if she felt his gaze, their eyes met. Y/N furrowed her brows, one eyebrow being considerably higher than the other in inquiry, her smile died and her laughter did as well, and even in the pub’s shitty light he could tell that her eyes had a mix of confusion and anger that no matter how hard she tried to push down, she wasn’t able to keep it there.
“I’ll be right back” Y/N mumbled, never taking her eyes off of him, Kat and Donna shared glances before nodding in acknowledgement.
Just like before, Y/N made her way through the mass of bodies in an attempt to get to something, this time being Roger and not alcohol. Meanwhile, Roger was doing the same, but unlike Y/N he wasn’t angry nor in a bad mood to not say excuse me and sorry every once in a while, making him slower in the task of meeting Y/N in the middle. Suddenly he realised that Y/N had already reached his place and before he could even open his mouth to even say anything Y/N beat him to it:
“What?” She’s annoyed, he thought, fuck.
“I –he paused in contemplation– I was wondering what were you doing here, ‘s all” That’s the way to go, Rog, he mentally reprimanded himself.
“You- I- Fuck- You don’t remember, do you?” Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I should’ve known better than to come, I’ll leave, see you later tonight, unless you leave with the brunette then don’t bother on coming to my place.” Y/N rambled, less annoyed, now she felt hurt and stupid, indeed she should have known better.
Y/N didn’t even let Roger answer her question –not like she needed an answer–, she just walked away, holding herself, her back no longer straightened as it was when she got there to confront him, her body posture screamt insecurity.
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She closed her flat’s door with a sad sigh, she ran one hand through her hair out of habit as the other turned the lights on. She felt so stupid for believing even for just one moment that Roger actually could remember what he had told her that same day many hours ago but more than that, she felt stupid for actually going and getting excited over it. They might see each other every other night, but they’ve never seen each other so publicly, around their friends; their meeting place was her place, especially because Y/N was too afraid to have the guts to go to his flat just to find another girl on her side of the bed.
Every time that she felt that she got considerably closer to him he seemed to push her away or to not recall or mean what he said less than 24 hours before. The worst part of it all is that she didn’t mind the grey area she was in, she was so in love with the thought of him –no, with him– that she was happy with the few things that he gave her, with the reassuring words, with the slurred words before he fell asleep; that was enough for her, but she desired more, she wanted to wake up with him still by her side, to have him around when the light was provided by the sun and not the stars and moon. But she took what little she could get, the chances he unconsciously gave her, like tonight. Except tonight was a mess and she wished that it never happened.
She left the pub just before their first set ended, wanting to listen and enjoy the music, to feel it pumping through her veins, to catch on Freddie’s excitement; so she did, she stayed but not long enough so that Roger could catch her before she left, before he could convince her to stay up for him. But apparently that wasn’t enough, because a knock on her front door made her jump and the man standing on the other side was the last person she wanted to see but also the person she needed beside her the most.
“Roger, wha-” Y/N tried to say, but her sentence was cut short by Roger grabbing her face and brushing his lips against hers, trying to test the waters before truly diving into a kiss.
Y/N was flabbergasted, for a moment she wasn’t sure of what she had to do, but in the end she caved in, her eyes fluttered close and her hands flew to the neck of his open shirt, pulling him closer to her, his hands moving from her face to the small of her back one travelling down further to grab her ass. That slow movement made Y/N gasp, Roger smirked triumphantly at her reaction, taking the opportunity given he decided to nudge her tongue with his, said action was received gratefully by Y/N, who started to move them inside the flat instead of the doorway. Roger kicked the door close and now that he was sure he was welcomed into her place he broke off the kiss.
Y/N’s face radiated heat, and if he could press his head to her chest he could be able to listen to the accelerated beat of her heart, her lips were slightly ajar and her eyes were still closed, almost savouring the moment for a few more seconds.
“Y/N, I-” Roger started, but he was cut off by Y/N’s lips.
“Please don’t say a thing.” She mumbled against his lips as her hands were messily working on his shirt’s buttons.
“Y/N! –Roger abruptly pulled apart– I’m trying to apologise”.
“Oh, go ahead then” Y/N replied, her hand instantly going to her clothes, trying to make them presentable, almost as if she hadn’t wanted him to take them off less than a minute ago.
“I shouldn’t have been such an arsehole back there, and I probably –Y/N raised an eyebrow– no, wait, I shouldn’t have asked you why you were doing at the pub, that was a stupid thing to ask, I’m sorry, love” Roger said, cupping her cheek, Y/N leaned unconsciously on the hand resting on her face, taking in its roughness and warmth.
“ ‘s okay.” She answered, Roger just pecked her lips.
But that peck turned into a deeper kiss, Roger –as usual– was leading the kiss, but it didn’t stop Y/N from teasingly pulling on his lower lip, yearning for a reaction of any kind. Roger’s tongue didn’t take long to come out and play, brushing Y/N’s lip, waiting for her to open her mouth; Y/N decided to make him wait a little longer, but Roger didn’t want that, so like last time, his hand dropped down to her ass, grabbing it and slightly massaging it. That action surely did make Y/N gasp, Roger took it as his opportunity to finally fully deepen the kiss.
In an almost déja-vu moment, Y/N’s hands started to busy themselves by untucking and unbuttoning Roger’s shirt, and as soon as the task at hand was done she pushed it off his shoulders, her hands staying on his chest, enjoying the warmth and the constant beat of his heart; but after one of Roger’s hand started to travel inside her shorts she moved her hands up to the back of his neck, pulling at the hair in the back, urging him to do something other than just kiss and tease.
But instead Roger decided to take his hand away, breaking off the kiss for a couple of seconds just to take off her red top, revealing the Rose tattoo that rested on the top of her right breast as well as the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the garment he had just taken off. His lips started to trail down her neck, a small whine leaving Y/N’s pouted lips as he went lower and lower, sucking a mark right on top of the flower. His hands were travelling up her waist to her chest, cupping them in his rough hands and then one wrapped around the side of her neck, making her gasp.
“Please Roger.” She begged, pulling on his hair.
“Jump.” He said, both hands going down to her ass and to her tight, to make the job of wrapping her legs around him easier.
“Bedroom, Rog, please.” She whined, earning a chuckle from him.
Roger’s lips trailed upwards to meet with hers once again, Y/N moaned into the kiss and Roger just hummed in response, his hips involuntarily thrusting upwards to meet with hers, making them both gasp a little as if they’ve never done this before, like they were teens, like they didn’t play the same games every night, the same scenario and the same scenes.
They enjoyed it anyway, the feel of their bodies pressed against one another, their heavy breathing, the moaning, everything. They lived for it, they savoured each other like they’ve never eaten before.
When they arrived to her room, he realised that he ached for her, never wanting to part. So, without letting go of her he sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving her sitting on top of him, their chests tightly pressed against one another, leaving barely any room between each other –not like they wanted to be apart. So without their kiss breaking, Y/N straightened up, her hands travelling to the button of her shorts, popping it open so she could easily take them off; Roger’s hands quickly travelled to its waistband, ready to help her out of them, but he stopped when he felt her cold fingers fiddling with his belt.
They both took their sweet time at pleasing the other, loving any reaction that came out of their mouths –call it moans, whines, grunts, or the broken versions of their names–, they enjoyed this carnal version of frustration relief, where both of them could stay satisfied with the results. They tried their best to please the other, putting in an effort to relish on the ethereal sounds that could come out of their mouths, whether they were down at their knees –like Y/N was earlier– or with their head between the other’s legs –like Roger tonight.
It always felt as if it all happened incredibly fast, the taste of the other was still lingering on their mouth, leaving a bittersweet feeling that could only be washed away when they see each other the following night.
Now, Y/N was lying comfortably on Roger’s sweaty chest as he drew small random figures on her back, causing goosebumps to erupt all throughout her skin, she felt whole and content with the position she was currently in, not really wanting to think about what will happen before she wakes up later that day. Her head was going a thousand miles an hour, a feeling of regret and pain suddenly settling in her agitated mind so without really putting a lot of thought into it, she blurted out:
“Have you ever thought of the future, Rog?”
He straightened up and cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’ve seen myself with the guys, touring the world, meeting new people, new friends, making more music… “ Even though that wasn’t the direction her question was heading to, she enjoyed the sound of his voice too much to actually interrupt him to clarify.
A silence fell upon them and Y/N took her head off of his chest, deciding to sit up a bit to meet his eyes, the same eyes she was to mad to stare at less than three hours before, the same eyes she searched for when he was sitting behind the drum kit –despite her anger. “That’s not what I meant.” She looked down in shame, she had already started the conversation, and no matter how hard she bit her tongue she had to finish the talk one way or the other, knowing that he would find a way to coax it out of her.
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “So what did you mean?”
“I meant, our future.” She mumbled in response and as soon as the words left her lips she regretted ever opening her mouth.
Roger was unable to answer, his mouth hung open, unfit to form a sentence. He ran a hand through his hair, the feeling of her fingers running through the locks still very much present, just like the taste of her lips, of her, in general.
“You know, that was a stupid question, it’s late, I should just go to sleep.” Y/N quickly rambled, a knot on her throat forming quickly.
“Yeah, good night.” Was all he managed to answer.
Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her back turned to him, mirroring his position, their bodies lacking the contact of the other. Y/N was angry at herself for her commentary, but she knew deep down that it had to be asked at some point, and though it felt as if she had chosen the worst moment to ask such thing, it was better to do it now than later when they reach the two year mark –a mark that wasn’t too far away.
Brilliantly done for a smile, shake hands, and leave.
// Part 2 //
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prorevenge · 5 years
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Don't shit on your own doorstep
So this one's been happening over the past few months, and it's hilarious. It's a loooong one, TL;DR at the end.
So I live on a little street with about 7 houses. We're the only student house in the area, and so we're often a target for people looking to make quick money by blaming us because they think it's easy to get us into trouble.
This lady thought WRONG.
Cast: DB - our neighbour, AKA Dumb Bitch TB - My housemate, a genuine teddybear CW - Council Worker Me - Many Earthworms
So I'm walking back from university when I'm accosted by a middle aged woman in her dressing gown and slippers.
'HEY YOU!'
I stop, because I'm trying to be polite to the neighbours (the locals have a *location* Hates Students group who vandalise student property to try and make us leave so I tend to overcompensate to make our household look good)
'Hi! How are you?'
'YOU VANDALISED MY CAR!'
(are you seeing the irony here?) I cross the road to where DB is stood - and where her car is parked - and ask 'pardon?'
'You dumb bitch, did you not hear me? I said you vandalised my car'
She was really trying to sell that I vandalised her car when I was on the other side of the road and she KNEW that.
'I'm... Sorry? I think you've got the wrong person.'
DB points at a HUGE scrape down the side of her car and I wince, that poor thing must have been beaten up pretty badly, but I had nothing on me that could have inflicted that much damage. I explain that the binmen destroyed my moped (still in for repairs) so they might have caught her car too and her eyes light up.
'A moped?!?!?!' I nod. 'SO YOU'RE THE LITTLE CUNT WHO PARKS ON MY DRIVE??'
Our house has a driveway big enough for 4 cars and is, obviously, right outside my house. So I tell her no, that I haven't been parking on her drive, especially because my bike was destroyed and has been gone for over 2 weeks.
'You're a liar,' she's like, spitting in my face at this point. 'I have photos of your bike blocking my drive from 3 days ago. That's why I was parked on the road and that's why my car got totalled.'
'Okay,' I nod. 'May I see the photos?'
DB is all too happy to whip out her phone and show me the photos of what she proudly believes to be my moped (A fire engine red piece of scrap that, to be honest, was well beyond saving even before the bin men mangled her).
Except... It isn't my bike.
'Ma'am, I hate to be rude but... That's a mobility scooter.'
Cue the screaming and shouting about how rude teenagers are (I'm 21) and how we university students always disrepect the locals. She tells me that I must think she's an idiot (I do) for thinking that she's wrong about my bike (she was). So I take a deep breath and say:
'Ma'am I'm in a rush, but you really are wrong about the bike... Maybe ask [her next door neighbour, a kind old lady who owns that mobility scooter but is a little forgetful] about why she parks her scooter on your drive.'
I walk away and think nothing of it. Except now she's left her totalled car on our private property instead of her own drive, after running our fence that blocks the drive down and complaining to our landlady about anti-social behaviour - there isn't any, btw, we're 4 reclusive students who stay in all night watching netflix with our headphones in, and she's also like 5 houses down from us so she definitely wouldn't be able to hear the noise she was describing.
Pretty much the whole neighbourhood is shunning us at this point, as DB had been spreading lies about our behaviour - telling everyone that we vandalised her property so it's only fair that she uses our driveway as compensation. I feel responsible for her behaviour, as I should have shut her down immediately rather than letting this drag out. So I sit in my room (nothing new there) and hatch a plan.
The next morning, I walk past her house and watch as DB lets her dog out, watches it take a crap on public pavement, and then shrug and walk away. BINGO. According to our local council, this is an offence she can get fined for, as it's vandalism and obstruction of council property. So every morning as I walk to get my train, I take a photo of the turds - some fresh, some crusty, and some smeared across the pavement by some poor sod who's stood in it. Then I email EVERYTHING to my local councillor who is FUMING that someone fully able bodied is allowing their dog to do this without cleaning it up. She gets fined £1000 with a threat of MORE if she continues to do so (I heard this from my neighbour as he was friends with CW, who handled the case). And guess what? She did. And the more that dog pooped, the more I reported it. She racked up £4000 of fines just for dog shit alone, and I didn't even report her trespassing on private property.
But apparently she'd spoken to CW, who was a newbie, and pressured him until he let slip that 'a neighbour' had reported it and of course she happened to 1) realise it was me and 2) know where I fucking live.
She hammered on my door, screaming about how she was going to drown my cat (I don't have one, my neighbour's cat just loves me), smash my window, and then catch me when I was walking home. Now TB is also a recluse, I've said in previous posts that he basically stays in his room and only leaves to go to uni or grab a beer and some food. But he is PISSED at the way this lady is screaming at me. He stomps downstairs, yanks the door open while she's midscream and glares down at her. He's 6'7" tall and a rugby player, so he's basically a walking muscle. If I didn't know that he liked to cry at anime while hugging us on the sofa, I'd think that he was terrifying. But this lady wasn't privy to this information. So she looks up at this angry, MASSIVE Northerner and just trembles as he says in a very low, threatening voice:
'You need to get off our property, and take your car. If you so much as blink at writerlysnitch and I hear about it, I'll not only call the council for the dog shit you flung on our driveway, but I'll call the police for damage to property and harassment. Now FUCK. OFF. LADY.'
Safe to say she ran faster than I've ever seen her run.
Last week I heard from the neighbour that CW had sold her car for scraps (she never got the thing fixed) just to pay off the eventual £4200 of fines she'd racked up, and every time I walk to the train station and see the mobility scooter parked on her drive it feels like another little win!
TL;DR - Nasty neighbour loses her shit, so I report her dog's shit.
(source) story by (/u/WriterlySnitch)
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marvilus-magpie · 5 years
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Interview with an OC
Charlotte Elizabeth “Charlie” McKay
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Tagged by @scarecrow-forest, @andremarshallwhite, @metalforhands, @radioactiveblight, @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre, and @scorpio-skies. Thank you guys so much! <3 Sorry it’s taken me so long!!
Tagging: ^^^ I’d like to start by tagging back everyone who tagged me. I know you all probably have other OCs you could do this for! Also @purple-martin111, @mars-colony, @wastelandwandererstuff, @slothssassin, @maxrev, @sharonaw, @ronqueesha, @val-rampage, @alexaberkeley, @fanthings, @tarberrymentats, @thewookieruns, @beckiboos and anyone else who either hasn’t done this yet or wants to do another OC.
1. What is your name?
Charlotte McKay, but everyone just calls me Charlie. Only my mother and Danse call me Charlotte.
2. Do you know why are you named that?
No idea. Charlotte was probably something my mother thought sounded high society. She hated when people called me Charlie. Come to think of it, that’s probably why I prefer it. *laughs*
3. Are you single or taken?
*Looks down at her hands, twists the ring there and smiles* Taken. Very taken.
4. Have any abilities or powers?
Hmm...does being better than MacCready at every single video game count? *you hear shouting from somewhere off in the distance, “BULLSHI..er CRAP! THAT’S A LIE AND YOU KNOW IT CHARLIE!”*
5. Stop being a Mary Sue.
*raises one eyebrow* Appearances can be deceiving.
6. What’s your eye color?
Grey. Dull and boring.
7. How about your hair color?
Umm...brown. *gives you a look like “duh”*
8. Have any family members?
Yeah, I have an amazing man and a brilliant little boy. I also have a lot of people that aren’t officially family, but they might as well be. 
9. Oh? How about pets?
Well, there’s Dogmeat, though I don’t know that he’s a pet. He doesn’t really belong to me, he just chooses to hang out with us sometimes. We also have a cat named Tiger and Shaun is trying to convince me that he needs to adopt a molerat. That’s NOT happening though.
10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?
Assholes. Look, I don’t care who or WHAT you are, just don’t be a dick and we’ll get along fine.
11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?
Beating MacCready at video games. *laughs and pauses to see if anyone interjects. Shakes her head.* I don’t really have that much free time, but I love reading when I get a chance, singing I guess and...stargazing. There used to be so much light pollution before the war, now when it’s clear you can so many more stars than before. It’s best done with company. *she winks*
12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?
Yeah. I have. A lot of people probably. Let’s move on.
13. Ever… killed anyone before?
You’re joking, right? Killing is, unfortunately, part of surviving out here.
14. What kind of animal are you?
*she just looks at you and blinks a couple of times* Really?
15. Name your worst habits?
Ummm, yeah. That would be acting before thinking. Also, speaking before thinking. Just not really thinking.
16. Do you look up to anyone at all?
A lot of people. Probably Danse most of all. I know he’s had some messed up ideas in the past, but he’s learning, he can admit that he doesn’t know everything. I’ve just never met anyone that selfless before, ya know?. I admire the hell out of him for it, but it also scares me. He needs to take better care of himself.
17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?
*raises her eyebrows* That’s a bit personal don’t you think? My current partner is a man, draw whatever conclusions you want.
18. Do you go to school?
I did. For a long, loooong time.
19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?
I had a kid. And a Husband. *pauses* I HAVE a kid and as for marriage, I mean I...we haven’t...I’d like t..., look I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m with someone that I’m damned sure I’ll spend the rest of my life with.
20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?
What? No. *the yelling returns, “Hel...heck yeah she does!”* Shut up Mac!
21. What are you most afraid of?
*she looks noticeably uncomfortable and wraps her arms around herself* I can’t lose...I need to keep my family safe.
22. What do you usually wear?
Something comfortable, practical. I love these, “she gestures to the jumper she’s wearing* One piece, easy to put on, comfortable, can strap armor over the top. It even has a little Minuteman logo. See?
23. What’s one food that tempts you?
Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. I’ve been weak for them my whole life. They aren’t the same as they were before, but whatever chemicals they used to preserve them do their job because that taste is still irresistible. They’re even better when shared. *smiles*
24. Am I annoying to you?
We’re good! As long as you don’t ask me what kind of animal I am again. *rolls eyes*
25. Well, it’s still not over!
Okaaay.
26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?
Before the bombs? Probably upper middle class? My husband’s family was rich, like stupid rich. We did okay though, probably better than most. 
Now though? Who really cares? Regardless of what certain residents in Diamond City might have you think, the class system is gone and good riddance. Of course, there are always going to be people or groups who think they’re better than others. Let them have their delusions. It doesn’t bother me until they start trying to lord it over others. *shrugs* 
27. How many friends do you have?
*smiles* I’m so lucky. I have a lot of friends. A lot of really great friends.
28. What are your thoughts on pie?
Pie is great! Dierdre over at the Slog makes an absolutely to die for Tarberry pie. It’s tart, with just the right amount of sweet. Mmmmm, so good!
29. Favorite drink?
Whiskey, neat. Nuka Cola if I need a pick me up. I like a good stout too.
30. What’s your favorite place?
Anywhere Danse is. *smiles and blushes just a bit* That’s it.
31. Are you interested in anyone?
Uh, I thought we’d established that. Yes. Interested. Very interested.
32. That was a stupid question…
Kind of. 
33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?
What? Now?! Neither unless I want radiation poisoning or to be eaten by mirelurks or whatever other irradiated monstrosities might be lurking.
34. What’s your type?
Oh, ya know. Dark hair and dreamy brown eyes, hardheaded, loyal to a fault, stupidly selfless, has a mild addiction to power armor.
35. Any fetishes?
Okay. Remember when you asked me if you were annoying me? I’m thinking about revising my answer.
36. Camping or outdoors?
Wait. Isn’t camping outdoors? I’m confused. To be honest half the time I’m off on a mission, I’m camping or as Danse calls it, bivouacking. He’s such a dork. Damn, I love him.
So are we done now? Hello?
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Autumn in Lima - Chapter 6
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Chapter Six - I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore
Pairing: Klaine Author: Sunshineoptimismandangels Fic Word Count: 21,196 Chapters: 6/? Summary: For this Tumblr prompt:
“I’m stopped at a light and you’re singing with your windows rolled down and wow do you have an amazing voice” Kurt and Blaine have the perfect meet cute, but how do you make it work after you meet the man of your dreams?
Read from the beginning: AO3 | FF.net
AN: *A coffin lid slowly creeks open and my sorry ass raises from the grave* She lives!
Yup, I know it has been a long time between updates and trust me when I say no one is more annoyed by that than I am! But here I am again with a long overdue new chapter - if anyone is still out there reading I just want to thank you for sticking with me!
I hope you enjoy this chapter enough to forgive me of my unpunctual ways. ❤️
____________________________ November
Rachel was stretched out on her stomach next to Kurt on his bed during her visit home for the Thanksgiving Holiday. They were both comfy and content as they flipped through magazines, Kurt with the latest issue of Vogue and Rachel was thumbing through People. It was one of those lazy times when you are so comfortable with the person you're with you don't necessarily have to talk. That is, unless you're Rachel Berry.
"When are you going to come to visit me in New York?" Rachel asked not looking up from her magazine, but bumping her ankles against Kurt's side.
"I'm going to come live with you in New York next year," Kurt said glancing up quickly from an article on 'super-chunky sweaters' to his friend, she was in pink pajamas with her hair pulled back in a ponytail as she glanced back at him with a smile.
"Yes, but that's too loooong." She whined getting up from where she was lying to lean back on the headboard next to Kurt. "I miss you."
"You are seeing me right now."
"Kurt, New York is lonely." Rachel frowned and didn't meet his eyes, "I love it and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, but it is a hard city and I just want my best gay to be there already."
"Rachel, we've talked about how I don't like the term 'best gay," Kurt sighed letting the magazine drop to his lap
"My best friend then! You know you are." Rachel leaned her head on Kurt's shoulder. "I feel like maybe New York will start feeling like home if you're there."
"You have friends at NYADA," Kurt said wrapping an arm around her.
"Kind of. The other students there are so competitive it's hard to know who is really your friend."
"Artie is there." Kurt really didn't like the idea of Rachel feeling alone.
"And I love him, but we don't hang out that much. He is more of a group friend."
"You know Blaine now." Kurt tried again, his heart compressing in his chest seeing his friend so somber.
Rachel perked up so quickly at that she almost hit Kurt's chin with her head, "Yes, that's true. We are both very busy and very popular so we don't have a lot of time to spend together, but he is a little ray of sunshine!"
"Popular?" Kurt said lifting an eyebrow, "You just said you were lonely."
"Popular doesn't always equal friends, Kurt. Though, Blaine seems to have a ton of friends and admirers. He is almost too likable."
"Admirers?" Kurt asked opening the magazine again and trying to seem casual.
"Yes, I met him for lunch at NYU one day and he practically had people fawning over him."
"Guys?" Kurt bit his lip and tried to look interested in a Balenciaga oversize wool sweater, okay actually, he would look great in that sweater.
"Yes. Men, women. Anyone who has good taste."
"Hmm," Kurt hummed to himself, his stomach twisting, wondering if Blaine was interested in any of those 'admirers', "You know he once confessed he was lonely himself. Maybe he isn't interested in sociopaths."
"He's lonely too? Oh, that is good to hear."
Kurt looked up at Rachel giving her a scowl, "I'm sorry, you want Blaine to be lonely?"
"No!" Rachel's gasped, "I mean… not very lonely. I'm just glad to think maybe he enjoys spending time with me as much as I enjoy spending time with him."
"Please don't tell me you have a crush on Blaine." Kurt deadpanned, only half joking. He knew Blaine was solely interested in guys, still, it would be awkward to have the same crush as Rachel.
Rachel smirked and winked at him, "No, I'll leave that to you."
Kurt could feel his cheeks fill with color and wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He was a twenty-year-old man, why was he blushing like a sixth grader and the mere mention of liking Blaine?
"Admit it, you do." Rachel said bumping shoulders with Kurt.
"Of course I do," Kurt worried his lip for a minute, "You know that we…"
"Fucked."
"Rachel!"
"Oh please, we're adults here."
Kurt looked at Rachel sitting there in her bright pink pajamas, and lifted an eyebrow, "Some of us are. And yes, we had sex. And it was… really good."
Rachel wiggled excitedly, "I'm still upset you won't give me details."
"I'm still disturbed that you want them." Kurt said rolling his eyes, "But the thing is, it is more than the fact that we slept together. Blaine and I… just click, you know? We text every day and talk on the phone and Skype regularly. He… he has become someone I really trust and care about."
"That sounds ideal, Kurt."
"Except he lives in New York and I don't know what he thinks we are, he could be dating as far as I know."
"Really? Wouldn't he mention that?"
"Not if it would make things awkward, he might not. I know people do long distance relationships, but most of the time those people are in a relationship before the long distance. Blaine and I… we just met and then he was off to New York City again."
Rachel sighed and shook her head, "You know we've had this conversation before."
"I know."
"And I'm going to say what I said then. Why. Don't. You. Talk. To. Him? Ask him what you are?"
"Because!" Kurt said throwing his hands up and up on the magazine, "I can't have a 'what is the title of our relationship' talk with someone I don't even know if I'm in a relationship with!"
"Kurt, you're being difficult." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, "What are you afraid of? You know he likes you."
Kurt was quite a moment thinking it over, he wanted to bite back that he wasn't afraid, but he knew that wasn't true. Finally, he let out a long breath and looked Rachel in the eyes, "It is six more months until I'm done with school. That's half a year. And then I won't actually move to New York until the end of July. That's two more months. That is a long time to ask someone to wait for you, especially when you've only been on one official date-"
Rachel opened her mouth to speak but Kurt knew what she was going to say.
"Even if we did sleep together on that date. I can't ask him that. I can't expect that from him, I could potentially mess things up between us before I even get to New York. I don't want to ruin a good thing before it really has a chance to get going. It's too much pressure."
Rachel's shoulders slumped, "I guess you have a point. But Kurt, if you aren't going to try and be some kind of couple now, you have to let him go. I mean, not as a friend, but you can't spend the next eight months hung up on him without saying anything, that puts too much pressure on things when you do move. Maybe… maybe you should be dating?"
Kurt laughed at that, "And who would I even date Rachel?"
"Please, you cannot be the only out gay student at Rhodes. I'm just saying, be open to opportunities. You are still young! Don't back yourself into a corner. Sexually speaking."
"Oh, my god."
"Kurt, think about it."
"Fine, I'll think about being open to something." Kurt begrudgingly agreed and flipped the page of his magazine. "You're annoying."
"I'm right."
"I'm glad you back home for Thanksgiving."
"You love me." Rachel said with confidence, bumping his shoulder again.
Kurt smiled and reached for his phone and the long text string he had with Blaine just from today.
Kurt: Looking forward to your visit in December. Can't wait to talk to you in person.
Kurt was counting down the days until winter break. Not only did he need a break from school. winter break was going to be more important than ever this year. Blaine was coming home to visit his mom and new step dad for Christmas. Meaning in just a few days Blaine would be a town over. In a few days Kurt would see Blaine face-to-face. The thought of it sent shivers down his spine.
As much as Kurt couldn't wait he was also a bundle of nerves over it. Fretting over what he'd wear when he saw Blaine again, tripping over his own shoes when he was lost in thought about Blaine, and overall just being a bumbling mess, so much so that his dad sat him down at the kitchen table one morning to check on him.
"Are you on some kind of new study drug or something that the kids are doing these days to stay alert?"
"What? "Kurt stared at his dad in shock, "Dad. No." Kurt may not tell his father about all his exploits, sure, but his father should know him better than to think that. "I don't do drugs."
"Okay. Okay," Burt nodded, "I had to ask. I'm the dad, that's my job and you've been… off for the past few days."
Kurt looked down at the table and cupped his hands around the mug of coffee Burt had poured for him. "I may be a little nervous."
"Midterms are over buddy, no reason to fret over them anymore."
Kurt looked up and smiled as his dad, Burt was trying here even if he was way off the mark. "It's not that. It's… Blaine. My friend in New York?"
"Bud, I know who Blaine, is you may have mentioned him once or twice... Or a hundred times." But wasn't even attempting to hide his amusement. And okay, Kurt had probably talked about Blaine a lot more than he'd realized.
"Well," Kurt continued ignoring his father's teasing smirk, "He will be in town for a few weeks and I'm looking forward to seeing him. That's all."
"So looking forward to seeing him that you forgot to add water to the coffee machine this morning?"
Kurt looked down at his mug, "This isn't the coffee I made?"
Burt laughed out loud at that, "No. Carole saved it once she smelled something burning."
"Oh god," Kurt buried his face in his hands, "I'm sorry."
"You really like this guy?"
Kurt didn't look up but nodded.
"And you're nervous because…?" Burt waited as Kurt fiddled with his mug, "You don't think he likes you?"
Kurt sighed and looked up, "Not exactly, I was talking to Rachel-"
"Oh god."
"No, this time I think, she may be right. Rachel said I need to either tell Blaine how I feel or… move on. I figure if I don't tell him when his home then it is probably time to move on."
"It is shit or get off the pot time?" Burt offered.
Kurt looked up with a smile, "That succinctly sums it up. What do you think I should do?"
Burt took a sip of his coffee and looked lost in thought for a moment, "I think that in my life I regret the shots I didn't take more than the things I tried for, even if I failed."
"Yeah," Kurt nodded feeling his confidence growing. "Yeah, I think I know my answer."
"You usually do."
December
Kurt: So tonight
Blaine: Tonight?
Kurt: We are going to see each other for the first time in nearly 3 months.
Blaine: I'm sorry, who is this? 🤔
Kurt: Not funny
Kurt: ... It's Kurt.
Blaine: Kurt! I was joking! My humor is awful when I'm nervous.
Kurt: What are you nervous about? 😊
Blaine: I have a hot date tonight and I really want to impress him.
Blaine: Kurt?
Kurt: This is a date then?
Blaine: Please tell me you're the one joking now.
Kurt: I wasn't sure it was a date.
Blaine: Oh.
Blaine: Do you want it to be a date? I hate talking about this over text message, I need to hear your inflection. I can't call though because I'm with my mom.
Blaine: It doesn't have to be a date.
Kurt: I'm I infringing on family time?
Blaine: No! It would just be rude if I got up to make a call right now.
Blaine: Kurt?
Kurt: Yes?
Blaine: You didn't answer my question.
Kurt: Yes, I want it to be a date. You didn't see that happy little shimmy dance I did when you said it was a date? 🕺🕺
Blaine: Will you reenact that in person later? 🙏🙏🙏
Kurt: Maybe. If you earn it. 😉
Blaine: I can't want to see you.
Kurt: Four hours!
Blaine: 😍
Blaine: 3 hours!
Kurt: 2 hours!
Blaine: 1 HOUR! I'm trying to pick out what to wear and I'm a mess!
Kurt: I'm going to think you look good regardless.
Blaine: I'm grinning like an idiot.
Kurt: Blaine?
Blaine: Kurt?
Kurt: I'm pulling up to your house. Should I knock? Is your mom home? Am I about to meet your mom? Why didn't I think this through!?
Kurt jumped a bit in his seat and looked up from his phone as someone tapped against the window of his car. He smiled finding Blaine standing outside the door, his hands in the pockets of his coat and a bright smile on his face as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Kurt quickly rolled down the window.
"Hi."
"Hi!" Blaine was beaming and Kurt knew the same could be said for him. "Are you going to come out of the car? Or at should I just go around the other side and get in?"
"Oh!" Kurt quickly opened his door, barely missing hitting Blaine, and hoped out of the car. They stood in front of each other for a beat before they both moved forward, but Kurt didn't know if it was a hug or a kiss, or a peak to the cheek. It ended up being an awkward hug with Kurt brushing his lips against Blaine's ear.
This was as bad as their first date, except it shouldn't be - they'd talked to each other countless times since then and knew one another so much better now.
They pulled apart and Blaine's cheeks were rosy, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. Kurt was internally kicking himself because for some reason the air between them was stilted and strange.
"Um… did you want me to meet your mom?" Kurt asked glancing to the door.
"I do… but maybe not right now?" Blaine said following his gaze but not giving an explanation.
That was okay, Kurt assured himself. Blaine not wanting Kurt to meet his mom didn't have to mean anything bad. Right?
"Dinner then?" Kurt asked trying to get things back on track.
"Yes." Blaine nodded and his smile grew when Kurt rushed around the car to open the passenger side door for him.
They were mostly silent as Kurt drove to the restaurant they'd agreed on, Blaine giving directions as needed because he was more familiar with Westerville. This didn't feel right at all. He and Blaine never had trouble finding things to talk about. And Kurt had never felt awkward like this around him, but the air between them was tense and heavy.
Kurt pulled up to the restaurant and they walked in and were seated before either of them said anything, and then they both tried talking at the same time.
"How are your classes go-"
"Is your brother-"
They both stopped and smiled and tried again, talking over each other once more. Kurt bit his lip and looked down at the table. He heard Blaine clear his throat and then reach forward to lay his hand over Kurt's. "Go ahead."
Kurt looked up to see Blaine smiling at him, his eyes dancing and Kurt's shoulders relaxed a little. "Did something happen this afternoon? You seemed excited about this evening, but now things feel… weird."
Blaine's smile slipped and his eyebrows shot up, "No. No, nothing happened. Did something happen with you?"
Kurt shook his head, "No. So why..," Kurt blew out a breath of frustration and motioned between himself and Blaine. "What's wrong here?"
Blaine squeezed Kurt hand and turned mouthed, "One more minute?" to the waitress as she stared for their table.
"I don't think anything is wrong here." Blaine said looking back at Kurt, "At least I hope not. I know for my part I'm just… well, I guess I'm letting my nerves get the better of me because I've been looking forward to this moment for three months and I… I may have put too much pressure on myself to make it perfect."
Kurt could feel a small smile curl up on his lips, "I'm in the same position."
Blaine let out a little laugh and leaned back in his chair, pulling his hand away from Kurt's but looking much more comfortable as he ran a hand through his short loose curls, "Okay. Good." He beamed at Kurt. "You have nothing to worry about, just being here with you has already exceeded my expectations."
Kurt laughed at that, he wanted to say, I thought my heart would beat out of my chest when you held my hand just now, but instead went for, "I tend to do that," and sent Blaine a wink.
Things were a little easier after that. They ordered food and the conversation flowed effortlessly like it always did between them. There was still a small ball of worry in Kurt's stomach. He wanted to talk to Blaine about whether or not they were a couple, or how serious Blaine was about this (Blaine was the one who called this a date), and if Blaine was dating while in New York - but things were going so well Kurt really didn't want to spoil the mood.
He was also seriously distracted by having Blaine no more than two feet away from him. Of course it was important to Kurt that their relationship was more than the physical and now that the initial nerves were fading Kurt wasn't surprised talking to Blaine was as delightful as ever. The issue was that Blaine really was extremely distracting, the way his fingers held a spoon as he lazily stirred the coffee they'd ordered with dessert, his dark lashes fanned out on his face as he glanced down shyly when Kurt flirted with him, his gorgeous lips tipped up in a smile as he talked about his family.
Kurt wanted to tackle him right then and there, the other restaurant patrons would just have to be scandalized, Kurt was this close to not caring.
They lingered well after dinner was done, talking and laughing and sharing long looks as the initial nerves between them completely dissipated, neither of them seemingly wanting the evening to end. Kurt felt caught between bringing up some potentially heavy topics versus finding a dark corner someplace where he could press Blaine against a wall and tease him with heated kisses and roaming hands.
"I guess we should let the waitress have this table back," Blaine said scrunching his forehead adorably as if leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Probably," Kurt reluctantly agreed, "And tip her well."
Too soon they were back outside standing by Kurt's car, neither of them making a move to get back in.
"It's a little cold, but if you're up for it maybe we could walk around the town center a little while?" Blaine was wrapping a red scarf around his neck that made his rosy cheeks stand out. "The Christmas lights are really nice in this area."
"I would love that."
Blaine smiled and Kurt reached out for his hand, wishing they hadn't put gloves on so he could feel Blaine's skin against his own. He didn't care that it was cold.
"I love Christmas lights," Blaine said as they passed a store with brightly colored lights looped around its edges, the big kind people use to use before the small twinkle lights came into style. "They always make me feel like a kid again."
Kurt was watching Blaine's lovely profile, his strong jaw and almost pouted lips in the colorful hues cast by the lights they were passing. "When I was little my mom and dad and I use to get cheap gas station hot chocolate and then drive around and look at the best-decorated neighborhoods while listening to cheesy Christmas music on the radio." Kurt said smiling at the memory, "I loved it."
"That sounds wonderful," Blaine said squeezing Kurt's hand. "You don't do that anymore?"
"It's been a while, but maybe we could start again. I can see Finn really getting into that." Kurt laughed at the thought. Finn would probably be like an excited puppy, he'd bring it up as a suggestion.
They got to a lane with rows of small Tuliptrees hibernating for winter and strung up in glistening white lights. The lane was so full of trees they hardly even needed streetlamps the fairy lights were so bright. Kurt and Blaine spent a good amount of time there laughing and taking pictures, at one point Blaine slipped on the frosty sidewalk but quickly got up eyes sparkling and with flakes of snow in his dark hair.
They posed in with the lane behind them and Kurt pulled out his phone to take yet another picture and Blaine swooped in to plant a kiss to his cheek. Kurt' skin grew warm and his stomach flipped over. The evening was turning out to be something almost magical.
"Do you want to… head back?" Kurt asked his breathing hitched as he turned to Blaine and found their faces close.
"I don't know…" Blaine answered slowly, seemingly confused by Kurt sudden shift of focus, or maybe just addled by how close together they were. "I don't want the evening to be over."
"Me either." Kurt pulled in closer to Blaine and tugged on his scarf a little to bring Blaine's face even closer as Kurt lowered his voice. "We could maybe find someplace… private?"
Blaine's eyes widened as he finally caught on and his already ruddy cheeks flushed, "Um… yeah. I would really like that but…"
"But?" Kurt's heart skipped a beat.
"My mom and Keith are at my house."
"And my place has my dad, Carol, and Finn," Kurt added glumly.
Kurt was close to suggesting they get a hotel room, as sordid as that sounded…
"Um… There's a nice little hotel near my place…" Blaine cheeks where bright red at this point and he cleared his throat not making eye contact with Kurt.
"You read my mind." Kurt breathed closing the nearly nonexistent space between them and capturing Blaine's lips with his own. Blaine hummed into the kiss and as soon as they broke apart he eagerly nodded towards to direction they'd parked.
It didn't take long to get back to Kurt's car, and he was very tempted to push Blaine against the door and just kiss him right then and there, they could move to the back of the car… but they'd almost done that once before, and honestly, while it wasn't super busy here, it was still a public place. He could wait to get to the hotel. If he had too.
Kurt had never booked a hotel room for the sole purpose of hooking up before. He wondered if Blaine had? Kurt stayed in the car while Blaine got a room and then they parked and rushed up to the second floor. Soon Kurt was unlocking the door and walking in backward while tugging Blaine by the scarf around his neck.
"Jesus Kurt," Blaine breathed as he moved in and the door closed behind them. He kept his lips close to Kurt's skin as Kurt's hands tried to maneuver through all of the clothing Blaine was wearing. Damn this winter layers.
"Help me with this coat!" Kurt laughed pulling his face away.
"Of course." Blaine practically whined and kicked off his shoes while also shrugging off the coat Kurt had unbuttoned.
They stood by the bed a moment hands moving across one another as pieces of clothing fell to the floor one at a time. Kurt's skin prickled in the air of the room after being bundled up so long and his arms instinctively crossed over his chest as Blaine finished hopping out of his pants, both of them now in nothing but their underwear.
"Cold?" Blaine asked gently reaching out for Kurt's hands - letting Kurt know he could stop him if he wanted to - and pulling Kurt's arms away from his chest.
"A little."
Blaine cocked a confident smile, "I bet I can warm you up..."
"That's exactly what I want you to do." Kurt teased and the sat down on the bed, letting go of Blaine's hands and scooting backward until he could lean against the headboard.
Blaine looked at him head to toe and then groaned before quickly crawling up the bed to meet him with a heady kiss.
"I don't want-" Blaine gasped between kissing him, "You to think-" A longer kiss, deeper, making Kurt moan and cling to Blaine's back. "That I'm only interested in sex."
"I'm very interested in that right now," Kurt said nipping a little at Blaine's bottom lip.
Blaine laughed and pulled back, but left a hand on Kurt's now panting chest, he let it slide down tantalizingly slow as he spoke, "Oh, so am I. I just… that isn't all this is. You and me, that is." His hand got to the waistband of Kurt briefs slipping them off and looking almost bewitched. "Kurt I… really like you."
Kurt smiled at him, his voice caught in his throat for a moment. "Good. Because I really like you too Blaine. And after months of us talking without doing anything physical… I figured you must like me for more than just sex."
Blaine's smile grew so that his whole face lit up, eyes scrunching, "That's very true."
"But right now we're here… together…"
Blaine didn't even respond with words he just fell forward kissing Kurt again.
Kurt laughed around the kiss, "And I am going to try and show you just how much I like you, Blaine Anderson."
Kurt held onto Blaine's back and then flipped them over so that he was hovering over Blaine's prone form, knees on either side of him. Then he kissed down Blaine's tan chest and quickly pulled his underwear off as Blaine trembled beneath him. Kurt's started to take Blaine into his mouth, the sound of Blaine's moans shooting through him, as Kurt eagerly worked to make his point. Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
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The unofficial “Change, In All Things, Is Inevitable” playlist.
Here’s some of the music I listened to while working on this fic, plus a few key lyrics and some commentary about each song:
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Gladiator – Zayde Wolf
Imma give you a second just to catch your breath / 'Cause I can see that your heart is jumpin' out your chest / I know you gave it all 'cause I've already seen your best, and it’s time you accepted this 
Let me tell ya / I've got every reason to fight
This song is great because it pumps me up and then 1 minute and 50 seconds into it, the tone does a complete 180 and gives me serious chills. It reminds me of current Megatron vs. past Megatron, and his initial motivation for starting the Decepticon revolution in the first place. I think he lost his guiding principles along the way, but his anger and gladiator might hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s a perfect Megatron song for obvious (and not so obvious) reasons.
Church – Fall Out Boy
Megatron: Take the pain / Make it billboard big then swallow it for me / Time-capsule for the future / Trust me, that's what I will be Soundwave: Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love Orion Pax: I love the world but I just don't love the way it makes me feel
Church makes me think of the early days of the revolution when Orion, Soundwave, and Megatronus were all working together towards the same goal. The chorus is fitting for all of them; their friendship was a sanctuary of sorts, and it gave them the kind of support / relationship none of them ever had before (at least in Megatron’s case). Friendship was a novel, strange, but wonderful thing. Pity it didn’t last long :’I
If I’m being completely honest, Toastyhat’s animatic for this song definitely influenced my associations, what with the gladiator ring and all that, haha. It’s a fantastic animation, and I highly recommend checking it out if you haven’t already.
Meet Me on the Battlefield – Svrcina
We carry on through the storm / Tired soldiers in this war / Remember what we're fighting for Our tainted history, is playing on repeat / But we could change it if we stand up strong and take the lead When I was younger, I was named / A generation unafraid / For heirs to come, be brave
This melancholic song is a perfect fit for the tone of the war, and Optimus’ feelings on it. Poor guy never expressed interest in being a Prime, but he never really got a say in the matter. The best he can do is keep moving forward hoping it’ll one day come to an end.
(Side note: someone’s done a TFP AMV with this song! Go check it out.)
Run to You – Pentatonix
I've been settling scores, I've been fighting so long / But I've lost your war and our kingdom is gone I will break down the gates of heaven / A thousand angels stand waiting for me
Very much a melancholic unrequited Soundwave --> Megatron song. I don’t care how many times I listen to this; my heart always aches for poor Soundwave and the ending he got in TFP. He would’ve gone to hell and back for Megatron (and I suppose, in a way, he did).
Battle Cry – Imagine Dragons
Stars are only visible in darkness / Fear is ever-changing and evolving Nobody can save you now / The only sound is the battle cry
Another great song for Megatron! He reveled in his fights as a gladiator, and war is no different. It’s his challenge to Optimus and anyone else who'd dare oppose him. In essence, I see it as Megatron’s “If you’re not with me, then you’re against me, and you’d better be damn well prepared to be treated like an enemy” song.
The “stars are only visible in darkness” line also reminds me of Optimus and Megatron’s conversation in IDW’s “The Transformers” #22 comic, where Megatron goads Optimus, saying he would’ve been no one and nothing without him / the war:
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Also: I genuinely had no idea this was a Bayverse song until recently so sHHH LET ME LIVE
Chains – Radical Face
I thought I had control, that I could always walk away if things turned bad / We were thick as thieves 'til I became the one who always went too far / And I couldn't hear you  In the end I'm lost / And I'll drag you down yeah, that's my cost / But I'm glad you were my friend 
Finally, the song that helped inspire this fic! Definitely gives me strong MegaOp vibes. Despite everything that wound up happened, Megatron and Optimus were each other’s biggest influences for a loooong time. That’s not the kind of thing that can be forgotten easily! I think Megatron was briefly reminded of the friendship they once had at the end of Predacon Rising. Megatron doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who has regrets, but I still wonder if anything akin to it crossed his mind before the end.
A few bonus lighthearted joke songs: A Little Help From My Friends – The Beatles This song came up on my playlist while I was editing some early chapters where Megatron / Orion / Soundwave were still buddies, which I thought was ironic, sweet, and a little bit sad. Take A Chance On Me – ABBA  An example of a song I associated with a character as a joke, then thought about WAY too much to the point where it’s no longer a joke. Anyways, please imagine Soundwave playing this every time Megatron passes him up in favor of the Decepticon’s latest traitorous and/or knuckleheaded senior officer. (Seriously though, why on EARTH do you have your most loyal officer as your third in command, Megatron??? Stability and competence clearly mean nothing to you).
Strawberry Blond – Mitski
All I need, darling, is a life in your shape / I picture it, soft, and I ache
This song is perhaps a little bit too wistful / lighthearted for the TFP continuity, but the tone (and the topic of unrequited love) reminded me of a young love-struck Orion Pax. (This was supposed to be a fun addition to this list but the more I think about it, the sadder I get :’I I’m so sorry your life sucked so much, Orion).
Songs reminding me of other TF continuities that nonetheless influenced this fic: Firewall – Les Friction
Deep beneath the light / A spark will now ignite You will see me now / This is my world now
A great G1 / IDW song that’s particularly good for Megatron and Optimus. I could dissect every single line of this song and create an entire MV to it, but I’ll spare you the 10 page essay. Just listen to the song and let your imagination run wild! So many lines are perfect!!! Alright I lied, here’s a few good corresponding lines: Megatron: Fear is a device / So quiet and precise / It's not what I allow / Not in my world now Rodimus / the Matrix: This force is in love with you / It wants you safe / It wants you well Shockwave / empurata: This force knows what you can do / And what you can make / With your tattered shell Optimus / the Matrix: Faith in your device / So quiet and precise / Just when, not how / You can feel it now The Autobots: Deep beneath the light / A spark will now ignite The Decepticons: You will see me now / This is our world now
Dangerous Man – Little Dume  An absolutely PERFECT IDW Megatron song! Great for Megatron post- his change of heart. I actually am determined to make an MV with him for this song because it’s just that perfect.
Silhouettes – Of Monsters and Men
There's nothing that I'd take back / But it's hard to say there's nothing I regret. 
Not necessarily a perfect song for TF, but these two lines from it reminded me so strongly of Megatron / Optimus I figured it was worth making note of.
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Symptoms
  Read on AO3      
Summary:            
Stressed out Alec, doting Magnus, sex and banter and sex. Yap. 4k words of it, which for me, is loooong. Also, a light d/s dyamic. And so much love.
Read more tags/warnings in the Author's note.
                 Notes: 
It was suggested in a comment to ‘When you open me all the power in me moves’ that I’d explore the light d/s dynamic between Alec and Magnus, that might have reared it’s shy head in the one or other fic of mine, a bit more.
I guess this is that.
This is nothing drastic, more along the lines of what you already know from me, but I’ll put more tags in the notes after the text, so scroll down, if you’re unsure if this is for you, dear reader. I just don’t want to spoil everything beforehand<3
Magnus has his magic in this one,  because of reasons, so it might be set in the future, or as well in their recent past.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
     “Have you eaten?”
Alec closes tonight’s patrol status report on his phone. “No. Haven’t found the time.” He sets it aside on the dresser in the living room and turns to Magnus. “Not really hungry, though-“ He stops when a frowning Magnus enters his line of sight, one of two steaming cups he’s carrying extended wordlessly to almost right underneath Alec’s nose. It smells delicious, some kind of a rich and creamy soup with exotic spices.
And it’s true, Alec isn’t really hungry, but the hot drink’s a compromise and he takes it. Hoping that in return Magnus won’t mention the raw patches of skin on Alec’s knuckles, and the healing rune he forgot to draw after he’d been through with the punching bag.
“Thank you.”
Magnus' eyes flicker over Alec's hand accepting the cup, but there is a smile on his face just the same, and he nods to the couch: “Let’s sit.”
They settle in next to each other in companionable silence. The soup is just the perfect temperature to drink and Alec almost empties the small cup in one go. And of course it tastes divine. He hums appreciatively, and Magnus sets his own cup down to scoot closer to Alec, placing hands warmed by the hot ceramic on each of Alec’s shoulders.
Alec's eyes fall closed.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, or your body.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but Magnus must feel Alec tensing because there’s a soft press of lips between Alec’s shoulder blades the next moment. Alec deflates. “I'm not.”
He doesn’t want to be defensive. He wants Magnus’ touch. And he wants Magnus not to worry, so he tries for light: “My body is trained to withstand much more. Won’t be killed by one missed meal, I promise.” He doesn’t know if it was exactly the right thing to say, so he pushes back into Magnus’ hands for good measure.
A heart beat of silence, then Magnus’ softened voice: “Oh, I know.” More kisses against worn cotton. “I wouldn’t mind, though, if we were to get from ‘what your body can do’ to more of a ‘what your body can do for you’ approach...”
Alec swallows and lets out a tired chuckle. He isn’t sure he completely follows, because honestly, Magnus’ hot, damp breath through the thin material of his shirt is quite distracting.
“What my body can do for me?”
“Yep. “ The playfully popped p is a brush of air on Alec's nape. “Want to let me show you?” And that is definitely a smile hidden against the fabric between his shoulders.
“Mmmm.”
The single syllable stretches between them, and Magnus sounds amused: “Is that a yes?”
“Yeah… yes, that’s a yes.”
Magnus’ hands come up to his neck then, gentle fingers trying and smoothing out the tight muscles there.  And before Magnus first did this to him, it was just an abstract medical, tactical concept to Alec: How applying pressure along the sides of your neck, where the vagus runs, can influence and regulate a person’s autonomic nervous system. Slow their pulse, lower their blood pressure.
It was just a concept, theoretical.
And maybe it isn’t just that, maybe it’s for that touch to be so close to what’s most vulnerable, maybe it’s just that Alec carries so much tension here in the tendons of his neck.
But Alec wasn’t prepared, isn’t, every time anew, for the deep sense of safety and warmth that floods him under Magnus’ expertly exploring ministrations.
When Magnus does this for him, Alec thaws, melting into the touch.
“Oh,  Alec.” Magnus voice is so low, Alec isn’t even sure he is supposed to hear: “For all that your body stands so calm you sure have a storm inside you.”
Alec exhales slowly, and something in his gut responds; he wants to answer Magnus somehow, but finds he doesn't know what to say.  
Magnus continues, words almost inaudible, spoken against the hairline above Alec’s nape: “It makes me want to coax it up to the surface, where I can kiss it better.”
Alec closes his eyes, and swallows. It’s a strange thing to say.  Yet it calls to an un-named feeling inside of him.
“Okay.” His own voice sounds rough to his ears.
He doesn’t quite know why his hands are shaking, as he puts them on top of Magnus’ on his neck. He just knows that he wants.
So he holds on and caresses along Magnus’ fingers, knuckles and rings.
Magnus hums, sound full of affection and warm amusement, and it’s heavenly to Alec.
“Choose one.”
“What?”
A soft chuckle. Endless patience.
“A ring, Alexander. Choose one, and take it off.”
Alec’s mind feels slow and syrupy and he doesn’t know where Magnus is going with this, but he picks a less worn, less ornate silver band on Magnus left hand, not the big signature sigil rings that Magnus puts on every day.
Once he holds it on his palm, Magnus’ magic weaves around it and Alec stares into the azure flame, watching as the ring grows until it’s the width of a small bracelet maybe, smooth edges and slender, but massive silver.
Yet it’s not large enough to go over his or Magnus’ hand, so Alec contemplates it, twists it between his fingers; it’s still warm, maybe from the magic, maybe from Magnus’ skin.
The moment Alec understands, a flush spreads heat all up into his cheeks and he feels Magnus’ chuckle against his neck.
“It- it’s to…”
“Yes. Well. It lets you stay harder longer and it might take longer for you to be able to come.”
Alec blinks. “So this one’s… for me?” He lifts an eyebrow.
Magnus laughs, a light and joyful thing. “I am not complaining about your stamina, Alec. Think of it more as giving me more time to… take you apart tonight. If you want it, that is.”
Yes. Alec gauges the solid weight in his hand, tracing a finger over the shiny, hard surface, getting used to the concept.
“Yeah. I think…. Yeah. But what about you?”
Magnus’ arms are wrapped around Alec’s shoulders from behind then, and his lips move directly against Alec’s ear:
“Oh, believe me, Alexander, this is as much for me as it is for you. “ A peck to his earlobe. “Sound good?”
Yes . “Yes.”
“Good.” Magnus pats Alec’s shoulders once more, and moves to get up. “Then don’t get too excited just yet, or it might get that much harder to put it on.”
Alec’s mind stumbles and Magnus winks. It is not helpful at all.
“Bedroom, Alexander.”
He complies.
The ring sits tight, and Alec’s cock feels heavy, every jostling movement sending a thrilling pull inside up to his belly button. And there has been a lot of movement, since Magnus has had him lose all his clothes, and has been maneuvering him around the bed. So Alec’s hard already, back propped up on countless pillows against the headboard in an almost sitting position.
Magnus is in front of him, straddling one of his thighs, naked as well but for the briefs he’s still wearing.
Alec wants him closer, always closer, so he slides his fingers into the elastic waistband, to pull them off, to pull Magnus in, either way seems good, but Magnus shoos his hands away.
“No, those are staying on. Wouldn’t want you distracted.” Another one of those winks, and for a moment there Alec isn’t so sure that he himself is above pouting right back. Pushing the impulse down, he instead gestures to the general area of Magnus’ torso and face. “Don’t know ‘bout that, still a lot of distracting going on over here…”
Magnus smiles and catches Alec’s hand mid-movement. He intertwines their fingers and meets Alec’s gaze: “Oh, I know. But I need your skin on mine.”
And at that, Alec can only nod.
At the glint in Magnus’ eyes and the simple gravity of his inflection.
Magnus takes Alec’s other hand then, never breaking their eye contact, and he brings both of Alec’s arms up, wrists onto the pillows above his head. Alec’s breath might get stuck in his throat a little, as he watches Magnus.
Magnus, who's contemplating Alec’s face, the strained lift of his chest and the frame of his shoulders, and in a careful move he leads Alec’s arms down again, places them a bit outward next to Alec’s waist, and Alec lets their weight settle. After a moment Magnus lets go, drags his fingertips across Alec’s palm, then rests them on his pulse points, pressing wrists down into the give of the mattress for emphasis.
Alec thinks he knows what Magnus means; but then Magnus is leaning in, kissing him. So slow, and so very deep.
It’s second nature by now, to want to complete that embrace, to hold onto those shoulders, onto Magnus’ neck to keep him close, keep him right here. Alec feels suddenly hot all over, when he catches his own movement half-way, and brings his arm down again.
Magnus must have seen from the corner of his eyes, because he smiles against Alec’s lips: “Do you want me to bind your hands with magic?”
Yes. Alec flexes his fingers and feels himself nodding. There’s lightness in his head and a rush in his ears as his heart picks up, but there’s also Magnus’ hand on the muscle of Alec’s chest, propping up his leaning weight, drawing soothing circles just below Alec’s collarbone.
The other hand taps Alec’s wrists again and there’s a surge of electric blue that dissolves into a lingering tingle for Alec to chase, raising goose bumps along his skin.
He finds Magnus waiting for him to meet his eyes: “They’ll hold, Alec, but should this ever not be what you want anymore, one word from you will break them. You choose that word now, Alexander. It should be something that comes to mind easily.”
The continuous caress of Magnus’ thumb on his chest is an anchor to Alec, and he forces himself to think for a moment, surprised how easy the decision comes to him, and how much sense it seems to make.
“I think it should be stele.” The thing he’d instinctively reach for.
“Very good choice.” Alec fights the impulse to shrug off the languorous shiver, that the gentle words have sent along his spine.
There’s a soft shockwave of blue again, as the spell adjusts. Alec bites his lip as his dick twitches with it.
Magnus leans back and shifts his weight, and Alec’s own chin lifts, his whole body following after Magnus of its own volition. The subtle stretch in his chest from having his wrist kept in place makes him feel wide open, every need and desire inside radiating out towards Magnus; it makes breathing easier and more difficult at the same time.
Magnus eyes grow darker, and he rearranges his position only lightly, sweeping a soothing hand along Alec’s side.
“I am right here, Alexander.” His voice is very soft then, but the melodic cadence of Magnus speaking has Alec captured completely.
“I won’t deprive you of touch.  You’ve been deprived long enough.”
Alec swallows, pauses. Stares and studies that face in front of him, his mind struggling to evaluate. He has a sudden notion that Magnus is not talking about Alec alone here, so he finds he doesn’t want to qualify those words, doesn’t want to say anything. It is true, after all. He hopes it’s in his eyes, as much as it is in Magnus’.
Magnus nods and aligning their bodies, ghosts his cheek over Alec’s. He cups Alec’s face in both his hands, thumbs placidly tracing over the corners of Alec’s mouth, then drags his palms down to rest on the sides of Alec’s neck for a moment again.
“Now, I want you focused on your pleasure. Every sensation your body gives you. That I give you. Ok?”
There's a flash of golden yellow in deep brown eyes. If Alec could only make him comprehend what Magnus’ voice alone does to him.
Magnus kisses him again, with the same pace that his hands employ to close and open their loose grip below Alec’s ears. So slow and sure and steady, that Alec can’t help but assimilate that rhythm:
From the way he opens his mouth to be kissed, to the rise and fall of his chest. From the flex of his fingers and his toes against the mattress, to the tiny, involuntary, circular motions of his hips.
They push his thigh up against the heat of Magnus’ body where he kneels over it, and makes Alec’s own heavy cock shift on his belly, pulling on the ring having Alec sensing every pulse inside the veins standing out, with the pounding beat of his heart.
Magnus’ hands move outwards to each side, then, brushing blunt nails along the tender skin of Alec’s forearms. Alec never thought that those spots on his body could ever feel this naked and laid bare and open. When Magnus reaches the inside crooks of his arms, Alec surprises himself with a gasping moan. Magnus stops kissing him with a smile, stays close but sits back a bit. Alec blinks his eyes shut again; everything seems so very charged.
Deliberate fingers dance along the insides of his biceps and down along where chest muscle meets armpit. Another sharp intake of breath, as Alec’s body tries to twist into the contact even more. And Alec should probably be embarrassed over how out of proportion his response to being touched there is, only he isn’t.
Magnus’ fingers trace around the outer definition of Alec’s pectoral muscle, around over solar plexus and collarbones, against the grain of raised hairs and shivers along Alec’s sides.
A jolt runs through all of Alec’s body as suddenly the same light fingers are on his balls, tap onto silver once, then ghost up along his shaft, only to move back to his chest again. Hips strain to lift up to not lose the contact, but Magnus keeps Alec’s thigh bracketed between his own, limiting his reach and range of motion.
Alec’s mouth feels dry from the huffs of breath that leaves his lips, as Magnus traces the same path as before again and again, using more of the back of his nails, never any faster than before.
Alec is arching up from each of his wrists bound in place, like a bow from notch to notch, against the tense string of sensation that Magnus pulls tight.  He is made up of strings, everywhere, the stretch of his arms and chest, taut tendons straining along his hips. That cord of connection that seems to run from the hypersensitive underside of his cock to his balls, branching off to behind his belly button, to that diffuse spot inside somewhere below his taint, to the network of nerves around his hole.
A touch, a pull anywhere along that cord will erupt in dull sparks in all those places, a hazy kind of heat pooling inside his lower body, steadily building, never enough.
Alec is writhing against his bindings, by the time Magnus wet fist finally closes around him, looser than usual, looser than Alec’s own would be. The warm, smooth hardness of Magnus rings is lost in the bend of his fingers, blending in with all the maddening non-friction.
“Tell me when you’re close.”
Alec’s mind stutters. “I’m… I’m close….”
“Tell me when you’re just about to come.”
Alec swallows back a gasp and tries to concentrate. It’s so different. Between the metal ring restricting him below his balls, and the controlled slowness of Magnus’ hand, he is almost painfully hard, skating the edge for what feels like too long. But every time he thinks that he’s about to burst, his body seems to go the extra step, and it isn’t yet enough, only coils that much tighter.
Through it all, Magnus has his other hand on Alec’s chest, grip on his pec hard and pulling, fingers digging into the flesh, partly to balance Magnus’ weight, partly for just one more point of contact. And it drives Alec crazy, the polarity of fleeting grazes of fingers everywhere else on his body, and then the anchor of that firmer touch; Alec wants it so much, needs it, like he needs his wrist pinned down to push all his passion against, to keep him from floating away right now.
He registers faintly that Magnus has rearranged his position, letting go of Alec’s dick again to drag careful nails over the sensitive skin of his hipbone. It brings Magnus knee nudging up against Alec, blunt pressure to the space between Alec’s balls and his hole and it feels so warm, so good, and Alec’s body wants more of it; twisting and lifting, trying and riding back down onto it.
Alec thinks he hears Magnus say something, but he’s so lost into chasing his pleasure, he needs to blink a few times to focus. Magnus’s gaze is on Alec, and his face is flushed and full of so many emotions Alec can’t begin to untangle them all; full of pride and awe and affection.
“You want me there, beautiful?” Magnus shifts his leg a bit and Alec makes a sound that needs. Then Magnus slick hand is on his dick again, rubbing just underneath the head, and he keeps on doing it, and Alec shouts, muscles pulling tight. It feels sudden, even with all that build up:
“Now, Magnus, I-”
Alec knew it what was coming, and still he isn’t prepared; never is; because Magnus stops and Alec’s muscles contract hard with the sudden lack of stimulation, body holding tight and together, not knowing where to go. It’s a wave of compressed heat, and his dick is trickling cum weakly, and Alec’s eyes are wet with all the blissful but contradictory sensations.
He’s breathing so fast, and it feels good, but so very intense. He's still wound so tight.
Magnus’ hand is on him again, and he is so very oversensitive, body twitching and curving up, instinctively trying to get away, though Alec doesn't want to be anywhere but exactly right here.  “Magnus, I…”
“Do you want me to stop?” Magnus’ hand on him stills. The shake of Alec’s head is immediate and vehement and he wants to kiss the hand stroking soothing circles along his collar bone again.
“N- No, don’t stop, please.”
“Do you want me to keep going?” Magnus voice is caressing him right along with the movement of his thumb against heated skin.
“Yes.” Yes. Alec wants more, wants to see where this goes, wants relief.
Magnus sets a gentle rhythm using only two of his fingers at first, and Alec goes white knuckled, head thrown back against the pillows with a gasp. His muscles quiver with exertion, all the held tension, body chasing that sensation from before and mindlessly basking in the intensity of that new one, pushing into it with all that Alec has.
The hand on his chest leaves, but before Alec can mourn its absence, it takes the place of Magnus' knee between his legs, a broad warm press of palm and a rolling motion against him, steady and rhythmic and toe curling.
It’s like Alec’s body is mirroring the ever building heat inside, everything about him straining up and against where he is anchored down, and Magnus' strokes are steady now, even if still slow.
“Look, Alec.”
It takes an unfair amount of concentration just to open his eyes and tilt his head so that he can see, but when he does, Magnus holds up his index finger a little, and it’s surrounded by dancing light, a crackling blue, pulsing energy. And the thought of it alone should be too much, to have that on his skin, but then Magnus speaks:
“You expect to be punished when you do wrong, Alec, but why do you not expect to be rewarded to the same extent, when you do good?” The words trickle like water on overheated skin, and Alec isn’t sure he understands everything they are, right now, but they are Magnus’ words, his voice, and they wash over him, when Magnus touches his magic down to the ring of silver, and Alec is set alight.
It’s a drawn out moan, bursting pinpricks of gentle electricity in the wake of the line Magnus draws up his shaft.  “Do you see what your body can take?” Echoes of tiny spasms shaking his body closer to what Alec knows is inevitable now.
Magnus' magic reaches up and around the head of Alec's cock, and that's it, Alec is finally coming, muscles locking down, and he thinks he might lift Magnus a bit off the bed with him, with the sheer force of it all, before everything whites out into bliss, reflief and release.
 (“You are your body, Alec. Your body rewards you, do you feel that? You are rewarded…”)
They aren’t all the words that Magnus whispers to him, kissed into the side of his neck through ebbing muscle spasms; there’s more, praises and love, but somehow those are the words that Alec will remember later.
For now, with their heartbeats and breathing slowing down, everything is a cocoon of soft and dark and weightless, as Alec’s eyes fall closed, his body back into the pillows.
Alec comes to shortly to Magnus rubbing gentle patterns into his stomach, and the silver ring falls away. He finds his hands are already unbound and wrapped around Magnus’ shoulders. Alec thinks he couldn’t open his eyes if he wanted to, and simply revels in fingertips dragging up his arms again, brushing close to the tendons of his neck. Everthing is white clean sparks and velvet. He drifts once more.
The next time Alec surfaces, he can't tell how much time has passed. It cannot be too much, though, since Magnus is still propped up next to his side, playing with their intertwined fingers.
The heavy sleepiness has left Alec, and his body hums, warmth still tingling everywhere beneath his skin, unwound muscles delightfully sore.
Magnus bends his head then, and kisses Alec’s chafed knuckles, and Alec watches the redness vanish.
And like that the words find him, before he even knows where they will go, and Alec speaks. He feels light, even if his voice is slightly hoarse.
“I sometimes want it, you know. The scraped skin, the light discomfort of a missed meal. I mean, most times I just forget, but sometimes… I do it because… with all that’s happening, it seems to give all this stress, this tension inside a shape I can work with. This”, he wiggles his fingers, stretching the smooth skin over his knuckles, but never letting go of Magnus’ hand, “…this feels like something  I can handle, that I can work to overcome, to endure. If it’s physical, it has substance… it has rules. In its physicality it has rules. I don’t know.”
A beat of silence.
“I know, Alexander.”
Alec turns his head a bit to look at Magnus. His eyes are down, still studying the soft pink of Alec’s healed hands. A strand of hair still clings to his forehead with a thin layer of sweat, and just like that a wave of gratefulness washes over Alec. Of course Magnus knows.
“Thank you for telling me though.” Magnus looks up then, and the smile on his face is sweet; it takes Alec’s breath, like so often.
“Well, thank you. For tonight.”
“My pleasure, Alec.”
Alec cocks his head and shuffles a bit more to his side, towards Magnus, searching out his eyes:
“Oh, I don’t know, I think it was mostly my pleasure, though.”
A wide smile, lopsided: “Alexander believe me, I am deeply, perfectly content and happy right now.” There’s hands on either side of Alec’s face again.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”  
Alec touches their foreheads together for a moment, then loses himself to the depth of warm brown eyes. So he sees the glint in them before Magnus even speaks:
“Well, almost perfectly content, I have to say, except that I am rather hungry right now.”
Alec huffs a laugh and stretches to get a look at the nightstand: “It must be, what, past midnight now?”
Magnus makes a tutting sound and wiggles his fingers: “Good thing we’re not bound to any takeout service hours then!”
He gives Alec a wide grin, that Alec returns.
Magnus makes to get up: “But I was actually thinking something sweet, warm, maybe homemade… Rice pudding? “
He looks at Alec expectantly, hair a little crumpled and features soft.
Alec doesn’t have to hesitate.
“Yeah. Yeah, I could eat.”
The smile Magnus gives him is blinding.
                                 Notes:  
Additional tags and warnings: light d/s dynamics, hurt/comfort, implied self-harming tendencies, cockring, light magical bondage, orgasm play, light overstimulation, edging, magic during sex
That should be it, I think?
Anyways, I'm hoping on your feedback <3
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oncewasaprime · 5 years
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I saw someone make some headcanons for Orion Pax and while some of them I agree with, some of them I don’t. Then again my Orion Pax is very different, so that’s probably why. With that in mind, I’m going to made an addendum to that and flare it up with my own headcanons. Feel free to read if you want or don’t. It’s whatever you want. Putting it under a read-more because it’s loooong as heck.
I wouldn’t necessarily say Orion is sassy, but he does have the horrible habit of being very blunt to the point he may come off as sassy and probably downright rude. That isn’t his intention though. It’s just he’s still learning social cues, so sometimes while he thinks he’s giving an honest opinion or nice compliment, it can come off blunt or probably offensive. In due time, he’ll learn not to do this, but like I said this is a work in progress.
Orion is very quiet to the point it’s eerie. Even when he’s by himself. Rarely will you catch him talking to himself, unless he’s trying to figure something out and talking it out loud helps. Sometimes, but not all the time, he may read to himself out loud but this too is rare.
For the time being, he is very passionate about Cybertron and is wanting it to stay at peace. He has read what has happened in the past, about the war and such and does not want a repeat of that. The current Cybertron that he lives on doesn’t have a leader at the moment, but a lot of bots sometimes come to him to ask him for advice on projects and such. He’s not entirely sure why, but he’ll give advice none the less and will help when needed. So in a sense, I guess you can say he very passionate about Cybertron, keeping the peace and the justice, but in no way does he see himself as a leader. He’s just another Cybertronian just like everyone else, helping to rebuild their planet together.
Orion does have a tendency to keep his thoughts to himself, mainly for the fact he’s still trying to sort them out himself. It makes sense since he’s still fighting with his identity, his emotions and also his own thoughts. Since it’s hard to gauge his emotions since he barely emotes, it’s a feat of its own to tell whether there’s something troubling Orion or not. The only sure fire way to tell something is bothering is the minute clues he gives and you have to be paying very close attention to these little details; the little twitches in his digits, the slight shifting from one pede to the other, not being able to look you in the optics (because most of the time he has no trouble with this), if he begins to pace and doesn’t realize it, if he starts to touch his chassis a lot and so on. There’s probably more, but these are just a few examples.
Orion has never tried highgrade. If he did though, he would be a total light weight considering his frame is pretty light. He really shouldn’t drink though considering the weird spark condition that he has. There may be a chance that it’ll just randomly pop out of its chamber and not be able to go back in, which is fine. Orion will just go into stasis if this happens. If the other bot doesn’t know this though theeeen that could probably cause some alarm and they’ll probably think he’s dead. If this doesn’t happen though, then he’ll just be drunk, but still his spark may fluctuate weirdly none the less so really he shouldn’t drink until he gets a proper frame which won’t be until later.
Orion doesn’t mind being the center of attention, but he much rather not have any attention on him. He’s a quiet, solitary sort of mech so any attention drawn his way feels weird, but he knows he has to get use to it, especially if he’s going around trying to help rebuild Cybertron and what not. For the most part though, he’s unfazed by it and can take it unless it’s something he’s not use to say affection or something of the sort. Then that’s where he’ll get uncomfortable and will probably start to show some signs of uneasiness.
Perfectly content to stay inside and curl up with a good book or do his new hobby; paint! He’s looking for new things to explore and do, so anything that keeps him and his mind busy are things he wants to do. He also doesn’t mind walking around Cybertron and seeing the progress that it’s undergoing.
Anger is something he’s yet to feel. There has been times where he’s felt slight frustration, but anger? No. It’s hard to say what sort of anger Orion will have as he’s so emotionally suppressed right now. Not of his own accord mind you, but that’s just how he is. There may come a time where he might accidentally just blow a fuse or maybe he’ll just simply be angry quietly. It’s hard to tell at this point as he’s still developing.
Orion has yet to laugh or even smile. That’s kind of sad really, but as I said he’s still developing with his emotions and thoughts. One of these days he’ll laugh and smile though and when he does, it’ll be one of those smiles and laughs that will simply melt your heart. It’ll happen. You’ll see.
Super curious and always craving new data or new information. Yes. This is true. It doesn’t even have to be just Cybertronian history either. It can be about anything and he’ll be interested. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about and he wants to know about it. Talk to him. Tell him the things you know. He will genuinely listen and will asks questions upon questions, so be prepared for that.
He’s never handled any weaponry of any kind--yes, that is true and while he doesn’t see the purpose of it since they are no longer at war, he wouldn’t mind learning some basics for just in case. He’s not dumb enough to shoot himself in the eye or any other body part though. He may have never handled a weapon before, but he’s not that clueless.
Workaholic. Yes. Very much true. Especially with rebuilding Cybertron. He’s always constantly getting hurt because of this as well because he’s still getting use to his frame as well, so he sees Mercy a lot for this and his spark condition as well. He doesn’t mind though. He feels the effort is worth the pain to get Cybertron back on its feet again.
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askalucario-blog · 5 years
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Caption: ‘yule’ when finished, Kennedy gives each of the masks a name and completes the project by posting an image online images courtesy of the artist.
Damselfrau interview: a peek behind the many masks of the London-based artist
if you somehow stumbled accidentally upon the work of Norwegian artist damselfrau, you’d be forgiven for thinking you had unearthed a cache of ancient vestments; something mystical, arcane—maybe even occult. defined by intricate beadwork, delicate lace and bold, bright color, damselfrau’s masks are at once visually arresting and bewitchingly unsettling. beautifully reshaping the face of the wearer, her work is laden with character, suggesting not just individual personalities, but whole narratives, histories, and worlds of their own.
the name ‘damselfrau’ is inherently contradictory. while ‘frau’ is a term used for married women, ‘damsel’ denotes one who is unmarried. combined, they form the paradoxical and provocative pseudonym adopted by artist magnhild kennedy—originally as a skype username, now as a professional alias—that she likes to interpret as ‘married to oneself’. it’s a fitting mantle for an artist who has become renowned for her masks; a craft that involves placing another ‘self’ on top of your own, creating both a combination of the two and suggesting something entirely new altogether.
damselfrau masks in vogue portugal, ‘the bold side of christmas’image by vasily agreneko, styling by pierre-alexandre fillaire
originally from trondheim in norway, damselfrau moved to london in 2007. while both of her parents are artists, she herself never formally trained. rather, kennedy’s practice originated somewhere a little less conventional: the dance floors of london’s nightclubs. working at a vintage designer shop in islington at the time, kennedy drew inspiration from the collection of clothes around her and was able to sew her own pieces behind the counter, which she would then wear clubbing. eye-catching, eccentric and strangely seductive, it’s no wonder that mask quickly became her craft of choice.
since then, damselfrau has made pieces for artists like mø and beyoncé, and collaborated with alister mackie and louis vuitton. beads, glass, lace, textiles, paint, hair, paper: everything and anything can be included in one of damselfrau’s creations. rather than chaos however, the result is one of organic artistry. ‘for me the mask is a place where different elements come together as situation,’ she says in her artist’s statement. ‘the work is about this place-situation, more so than the mask as a theme or category of form. the mask is a place’. livened by the found nature of the materials that comprise them, damselfrau’s masks perfectly walk the line between being delicate artworks of visual poetry and ghostly uniforms for the mystical.
damselfrau’s intricate gold face piece can be spotted at the start of this music video for mø’s track ‘kamikaze’
designboom spoke with the artist recently about her journey toward mask making, the best spots in london to find new materials, and her plans for the new year.
designboom: you come from a particularly artistic family. what was your own personal journey like as an artist in light of this? do you remember the first time you sat down and said, ‘right, I’m going to make a mask’? how did it turn out?
magnhild kennedy: I came to myself quite late. I’ve always made various types of stuff, but nothing good. I’ve known since I was a teen that I was going to have to head to london at some point, but it didn’t happen until I was in my late 20’s. I have no idea how masks became the format for me, I’m not particularly interested in masks as a category. I worked in a vintage design shop when I first moved here. looking at the old clothes, their details and decor gave me some insight into making. I went to car-boot sales every weekend to find utilities for our new life here, and started schlepping home all kinds of funny materials, textiles and bits I found there.
I had to do something with all these materials. it started with making masks for a party and the format stuck. from there it just grew slowly and organically. five years ago my husband robert started dalston pier studio. I got myself a proper work shop there and felt it was the time take it seriously. I felt like an imposter for the longest time. I’m self taught, I didn’t go to school past the age of 19. but growing up with two artist parents, it’s been schooling from day one
DB: you work a lot in found textiles and have spoken about picking up materials in car boot sales and the like. what is the strangest place you’ve ever found material for a mask, and when working on a new piece, do you have a go-to place in london to start looking for inspiration?
MK: I find things everywhere, I have picked fruit netting out of bins. one christmas in paris, they decorated the trees of the champs-élysées with plastic crystals. rouge ones had fallen off and been stepped into the dirt pavement and I scratched out pocket fulls. I’ve picked gold confetti off the floor at alternative miss world. friends bring me things from their travels too. a friend gave me a norwegian 1700’s hair wreath, a japanese friend gave me an antique geisha hair piece I crocheted into a mask. old tea towels. I’ll use whatever if it has personality.
just walking out the door is inspiration, really. I live in dalston. people from everywhere in the world, young and old. fashion kids. charity shops. I’ll go to sir john soane’s museum. the wallace collection. spitalfields on thursdays. dennis severs’ house. dover street market. a pub.
DB: how long does it usually take to finish a mask, and what is the longest you have ever worked on a single piece?
MK: anything from a day to forever! I have unfinished masks on my shelves that have been waiting for ‘something’ for months—years even. I’ll just have to wait until that right something comes along.
percifor’‘I felt like an imposter for the longest time…but growing up with two artist parents, it’s been schooling from day one’
DB: I know you originally made masks for clubbing in london. how has creating masks specifically for a club environment and club culture in general influenced the work you make? do you still wear your masks clubbing?
MK: it’s been a loooong time since I went clubbing! I might make myself something fun for halloween if I am going to some party. the ‘craft something from nothing’ element of the club culture was inspiring. what some people could make out of some egg carton, tape and paint, you know? there was no hierarchy amongst the materials. that is the main thing I learned that I have brought with me into the work.
‘uro’‘there was no hierarchy amongst the materials. that is the main thing (…) I have brought with me into the work’
DB: how do you personally feel when wearing one of your creations, and what do you hope the experience is for an onlooker?
MK: I don’t wear the masks much once they are done. I try my best not to make to many decisions for the masks. people see what they see. it’s none of my business!
DB: you have collaborated with a lot of really interesting people in the past. are there any artists you are particularly influenced by, or anyone you would love to work with in future?
MK: when I was a kid I saw moebius’ and enki bilal’s comics, and they definitely still inform what I do. I’m very interested in homes and how people surround themselves. I decorate a lot. I sew my own christmas ornaments. at the moment I am taken with the book ‘dawnridge’, about tony duquette’s wonderfully OTT home. he was an artist, film and set designer in hollywood. I like miniature model makers like charles matton and thierry bosquet.
I like spaces over-informed by the people who use them and live in them. I have always felt I work mostly like a decorator. my all time greatest obsession is versailles. I don’t have a particular person in mind, so my dream collab would definitely be with versailles.
DB: you often talk about your masks having a character and life of their own. how much of yourself do you see in each piece you make, or do you always see it as a separate entity from the start? what stage in the process does a mask’s character start to reveal itself, and what does that moment feel like?
MK: separate entity I think…it’s a kind of meditative state, making these things. i’m always surprised by what comes out and that I have made something. usually the character changes several times along the way. there are very few conscious choices taken along the way, or at least it feels like it.
I try to think as little as possible, really and just go by instinct. no overthinking. I have clear physical reactions in the brain to if something works or not. like two ant antennae meeting, releasing some warm spark. some severe chemical reaction, it’s totally a high.
DB: you have a strong presence on instagram and images of your work are understandably popular on sites like instagram and tumblr. how integral to your process is social media, and how has it impacted the way you make work, if at all?
MK: it’s a big part of the work. a mask isn’t finished until I have taken a portrait of it and sent it out on general internet high-ways like my instagram or blogspot. this way the mask makes a life of its own and communicates its own being. it’s how it has turned into actual work.
DB: are you working on anything at the moment you’d like to share with us, and what does 2019 hold for damselfrau?
MK: yes! I’m very excited. I have been invited to exhibit at the national museum of decorative arts trondheim in norway this september. it’s the first time I’ll show the masks in the flesh in norway, so it’s pretty grand for me. I used to visit this museum as a kid, I have strong feeling for this building. it’s surreal to be showing there. I am also working on an interesting project with queen mary university and designer rachel freire, incorporating technical fabrics and movement sensors with my masks. that’s a new universe for me—very cool.
DB: any personal mottos or words of wisdom you try to live by?
MK: ‘walk, don’t run’, as my dad always says.
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