#also I wanted to keep it flat colors but her skirt is silk and I interpret her shirt to be as well so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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All Rise > Andy Barber

|| pairing: andy barber x black!reader

|| word count: 2,749

|| warnings: pure filth, smut, sex, office sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), ass play

|| note: gif credit goes to @/forchrisevans! there is literally no plot. i saw the scene of the above gif in the show and just wanted to drop to my knees. this was born.

line credit goes to @/writeyourmindaway!

Andy is in a mood. He’s often a hard person to read - a taciturn man - but after a few years of working for him, you’ve honed your senses. He’s been out of the court house all morning, interviewing teenager after teenager after teenager, and you can only imagine how that went. As soon as he got back, Lynn pulled him into her office for another hour, followed by a battery of phone calls. He’s running on one peach flavored yogurt cup and a black coffee.

Assistant district attorney Andy Barber is in a mood.

It’s going on 2:25pm. He’s on a call, while also trying to catch up on paperwork and read through the stack of police reports you slapped on his desk early this morning. You glance back at his closed door, your fingers slowing down as you type out his deposition notes. He needs to eat. He also needs to sign these subpoenas, but you’ll broach that at a different time. You push away from your desk and move towards his closed door, your heels clicking across the marble floor. You knock softly and lean slightly to show your face through the window.

He waves you in without hesitation. You push through the threshold and shut the door behind you before tipping towards his desk. He keeps his eyes on you as a voice sounds from the speaker phone. He leans back in his hair, threading his fingers together as he rests his elbows on the arms of his (expensive) swivel chair. He cocks his head slightly as a soft smile spreads on his face.

You roll your eyes but a copy cat smile curls onto your face. You stop just at the edge of his desk, crossing your right ankle over your left and let your hands fall to your sides. You clear your throat as his big eyes roam down your body, right down to your Giuseppe heels and then back up your nude pencil skirt and silk blouse. They stop at your chest, gaping at your barely there cleavage - purposely engineered to leave it’s audience wanting more. You raise your eyebrows playfully and cross your arms over your chest as you sweep your hair over your shoulder.

“Jim, I’m gonna have to jump off. My trusty assistant is giving me the look.” Andy says, flipping his eyes towards you.

The man on the opposite end of the call laughs, “Oh yes,I know that look well. Alright Andy, I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Of course. If not later this afternoon.”

You wait for the two to extend their exit pleasantries and the phone to click before you address him, “Lunch?”

“Is that skirt new?” He asks, totally disregarding your question, “I don’t recall ever seeing you in that color before.”

You can’t help but smile at him, “Very observant of you. What do you want for lunch?”

“Whatever you got under that skirt.”

You gasp at his blunt response. He laughs earnestly, honestly loving it when he can catch you off guard - something that doesn’t happen often. He leans most of his weight onto his right elbow as he leans forward, spinning slowly left and right in his chair. His face goes serious again and you tilt your head as the two of you just kinda look at each other. He looks tired. It’s in his shoulders, his face, his eyes - he needs something more than just a cheeseburger and some fries. Lucky for him you’re just in the mood to give it to him.

You turn on your heel and move towards the window that looks out over your desk. You glance out, watching as people buzz by, their noses in their phones or file folders. You close the curtains and spin back around, moving towards him again. You click around the large desk, keeping your eyes on him all the while. You push between his body and the piece of oak furniture, dropping to your knees without a word. He leans back and pushes his hips forward as your hands start to work open his pants. You pull his dick out and start stroking him - slow, long drags of your palm up and down his thick shaft. You stifle a giggle as he quickly starts to harden under your touch, the bailiff’s deep voice skipping across your mind. All rise.

You float your eyes up to his face, finding his lips parted, his eyes closed, his head resting on the back of the chair. His long, dark eye lashes spread out over his cheeks as you work him up, leaning over to kiss his tip quickly. He jumps at the gentle touch, balling his fist as he inhales sharply. Also lucky for him, you love a responsive man.

You take your hands away from his warmth just long enough to push your hair over your shoulders. You bunch it together and coral it into the thin, black band that’s been hanging around your wrist all morning. You then push your hands up his thighs and take him back into your hand, pumping him a few more times before you lower your mouth over him.

You’ve always enjoyed giving head, but there’s just something about having Andy fucking Barber’s cock in your mouth. His taste. You bob your head slowly, taking every inch he has to offer right down your throat. You feel him tense underneath you - and your pussy tenses too. You moan a little as the tip of his cock tickles the back of your throat, the faintest hint of sweetness exploding on your taste buds.

The soft grunt he makes when he expels his next breath sends a quick message right to your core. You can feel the wetness between your legs now - the small spot that begins to pool in your panties. It only takes mere minutes for the navy blue silk panties covering your sex to be stuck to your flesh - for you to feel the slight squish when you move.

He hums a little with his next breath as you tease his slit with your tongue, flicking at it softly as you drag your hand up and down his shaft. Your nipples harden. You follow your hand back down his pretty cock with your mouth, your tongue tracing his veins as you go. You feel his fingertips on your shoulders, gripping at first but then skirting down to your chest and into your blouse. They fumble around - tracing the cups of your bra before they push underneath, finding your thick buds to tease and play with as you swallow the small dribbles of cum that leak from him.

“Christ,”

The word falls from his lips with ease as his head rolls on the back of his chair. His right hand leaves your shirt to fumble with his tie, tugging it back and forth to loosen it before he pops the top bottom of his collared shirt. He lets his head drop back to the chair and groans as another smile spreads on his lips.

You pull your lips back up his shaft to suck on his tip before you release him with a loud pop. You start pumping him with your hand again, quick, with a firm hold of him, puckering your lips as more cum dribbles from his slit and down his length. Your heart flutters at the sight. You love this man’s cock.

“Stand up, sweetheart.” You hear him mutter, “Turn around for me.”

You oblige, standing and turning so that you’re facing the door. A large palm slides up your spine, stopping just between your shoulder blades. He pushes to bend you forward while he sits up straight. You rest your elbows on his desk and peak over your shoulder, smiling back at him as you sway your hips back and forth. You place your chin in your hands as his hands skim up your legs, grabbing at the hem of your skirt. He pushes the tight material up your thighs and over your ass, having to get a little rough to get it up over your hips.

He palms your ass, smacking it quickly before he curls his finger underneath your panties. He slips them down your thighs and lifts each of your ankles to help you step out of them. He presses a warm kiss to the back of your right thigh, and then your left, as his fingers slide through your slick, wet folds. You’re fully expecting to feel those thick fingers push into you, but when it’s his tongue, you hiss deeply before letting your mouth fall open.

You scrunch your face as his tongue dips into your opening and then pushes up to your clit. He wraps his lips around you, sucking lightly before he flicks his tongue against the bundle of nerves at the center of you. You grunt. You’ve grown to understand why this man has an affinity for peach yogurt. He laps at you - slithering that pink tongue from your clit back to your opening, dipping into you again before flatting his tongue to massage your slit.

The tip of that tongue is a sneaky little bastard. It slips across your asshole without warning, causing you to jump at the sudden sensation. Your eyes flutter as you let out a soft breath when he buries his face between your ass cheeks, kissing and sucking and licking your puckered hole. You shutter and push your hand between your legs, massaging your throbbing clit with your fingers as he makes a meal out your ass.

He pulls away minutes later with another quick swat of your behind. He kisses each of your thighs again before he stands and grabs your hips. He steps close, so close that you can feel him just at your slit, but he doesn’t press the issue. He just stands there - waiting - pushing his hands over your hips, around to your tummy, over your ass. You glance over your shoulder, and meet his eyes and his raised eyebrows, seemingly saying you know what to do - which of course, you do.

You push back - slowly - sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as your body spreads with his introduction. You’re not sure why, but you’re always surprised when you first sink onto him - the fullness you feel. You wiggle slowly when you’re flush against hips, squeezing your muscles around him to really feel him. You draw forward, pulling completely off of him before you push back again, moaning when your ass meets his hips again.

It’s a slow game at first. He doesn’t move, he just lets you fuck into him as he stands perfectly still, watching himself disappear and then reappear into your pussy. But then, it starts to feel good - his dick starts to scratch that deep itch and you’re pushing harder and faster. Soon, you’re slamming back into his hips, your palms flat on his desk, your fingers spread, your head hanging low. You’re loud - louder than usual - causing him to reach over your shoulder and shove his fingers in your mouth - you know - to give you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

You nibble on his thick digits, still moaning and groaning as each stroke hits just right. You feel a tug on your hair, and then another before your head starts to crane towards the ceiling. He usually knows better, but since he knows that you know he’s in a mood, he figures you’ll lighten up with the rules. Plus, with your pussy stuffed full of him and his fingers shoved in your mouth, you’re really not in a position to complain.

He starts to fuck into you after that - hard - making a mess of you. Your wet muscles squeak with each push of his cock, filling the room with that squish sound. Your juices, mixed with a hint of his cum, slip down the inside of your thigh. You slobber all over his fingers and onto random sheets on papers spread out over his desk. He always brings out the inner most animal in you.

Your octave starts to rise and so does his as you crash into one another. He digs his fingernails into your hip, grunting as he punishes your pussy with each of his strokes. You slam your eyes shut and let your body relax, completely giving into his will. You start to feel the pull in the pit of your stomach as each of his strokes pushes you closer and closer to your release. Fire courses through your veins as the feeling rises and finally explodes.

It blooms across your flesh as your toes curl and your body tenses. He fucks your through it, releasing your hip to curl his arm around your waist to slap at your convulsing clit. Expletives fall from your mouth - all whiny and high pitched as your tits bounce with each of his hard, quick pounds. Within moments you’re full of his cum. Hot bursts of his seed squirt into you as he jams himself into you over and over and over again, grunting louder and louder with each one.

He fills you to the brim. You’re so full of his milky spunk, your pussy so tight, that your spasmed muscles push it right back out of you. His cum drips from you, slipping down your thigh as his hips slow to a stop. He pushes deep inside of your warmth, his dick jumping with it’s last spurts before he pulls out, leaving you empty. His legs give out and he falls back into his chair, his chest heaving as his mouth hangs open. Your head falls to the desk as your ankles wobble in your stilettos - your legs weak.

You can feel his eyes on you, staring at your nakedness and your mess. The strings of cum that hang from your pussy. The wetness that splashes on your thighs. Your body jerks when you feel his warm fingers push through your folds gently - slowly - not trying to excite you, but to soothe you. Just a gentle little massage. You push out even breaths as you prop your elbows up on his desk and rub your forehead. He cups your sex with his palm, loving how swollen and hot your pussy gets after a good fuck.

You take a deep breath after a few sobering minutes and hum as you push your torso away from the top of the desk. You stand up straight, giggling as you fight to keep your balance, Andy having to grab your hand to steady you. You feel his eyes follow you into his private bathroom to wet a few paper towels to clean yourself up with. You grab a few more, dipping them underneath the warm stream of water, wringing them out before you move back over to him. You lean over the sated man and wrap the warm, wet paper towels around his girth, running it up and down his shaft to clean him up as well. You cut your eyes towards him and click your teeth when you’re met with that dopey, post-sex smile.

You kiss the head of his cock once he’s back in tip top shape. You tuck him back into his boxer briefs and zip him up, fixing the button on his pants before you kiss his pretty pink lips, “What do you want for lunch, Mr. Barber?”

“A cheeseburger,” he mumbles, “And french fries, please.”

You click towards the door, not even turning around, “With a coke?”

“A big one.”

You throw open the door and move back to your desk, grabbing your purse and throwing it over your shoulder before you make your way out of the court house. You’re barely down the street as a text slides across the screen of your phone.

Don’t forget ketchup, please.

You smile as you stop at the corner, waiting for the light to chance. You play with the diamond ring that hangs off of a simple platinum chain around your neck, sliding it back and forth. A present from him a few months back. Neither one of you really know the meaning of it yet, but you’re both okay with that for now.

When do I ever forget the ketchup?

You don’t… that’s why you’re the best assistant ever

You roll your eyes as the crosswalk sign lights up. You step off of the curb as a quick Boston summer breeze whips around you.

Yeah, that’s why 🙄

#andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x you #defending jacob #avintagekiss24

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kessielrg · 3 years

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A Quiet Place (Part 3)

Summary: Part 3 for a short ficlet based on a chaotic rp by @chibi-mushroom and @animacreates. The first two parts are here, and here. Took me long enough to finish this one, now off finish to the story where Sabrina becomes a Heartless for a day.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,059 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

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“Pliers?”

“Pliers.”

“Hammer?”

“Hammer.”

“A little reassurance that I'm not going to hit my finger this time?”

“Wouldn't count on it.”

Oswald gave Sabrina a stink eye that she just as easily shrugged away from. He was finding quite quickly that being a sassypants was second nature to her. Having a strong will was good -especially for someone as beaten down as she had been- but heaven help him if it didn’t make him go slightly insane each time. She was going to have a job in power one day. He just hoped that it was on the ‘good’ side of gray and grey morality, and not the ‘bad’ side.

“You know, I think I liked it more when you just sat on the couch.” he informed her, jokingly razzing his tongue at her.

“No you don’t.” she immediately spat. “If I sat on the couch now, you’d think I’m mad at you.”

“Are you?”

It honestly took her a few moments of thought toward the idea.

“Not in this room.” she decided.

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” Oswald snorted. “Would ya bring the standing magnifier a bit closer? If you’re not going to cheer me on, the least you can do is help me delay the inevitable.”

The girl gave a sound of affirmation before adjusting the afghan blanket around her shoulders. The blanket still served as her shield against the world. She may be gaining more confidence, but outside the hobby room her glares did most of the talking. Even that was more of an improvement as well. Stoic wasn’t the best word to describe her first week. Moreover, she did a lot more than head shakes and flinching when spoken to now. She still flinched when Ortensia raised her voice when Oswald didn’t do something the first fifty times his wife asked him to- but the kid couldn’t be blamed for that. It scared Oswald to; even if the forgetting had been on purpose.

At this point, the two foster kids had been with him and Ortensia for six months and three days. The day marking that this was the longest the siblings have stayed with one family was one where Brain called the first family meeting. He never said that this was the case, but at that point both caretakers had a good feeling about it anyway. Many things were talked about that day. Most of it was a simple ‘thank you for keeping our trust’ from the heart. But there were some topics that made them all go silent in both thought and fear. The biggest one of all; would Ortensia and Oswald have children of their own as well? It was no real secret that Ortensia wanted a big family. It was even less of a secret that the two had tried for their own child before.

Ortensia said that it would be nice to have more children. Oswald remained silent; too focused on the kids for their reactions. They may have known each other for six months, but they were still a mystery to him. And what he did know...? Suffice to say, it sometimes kept him up at night in absolute fury. He didn’t even have that much hate for his own brother- and that fury was well pent up after so long.

But he couldn't think about that now. He honestly didn't want to hurt his finger again because he misjudged his hammer swing. Sabrina watched on, almost unflinching with each strike. Her eyes held a gaze that made it seem like it was her sheer will that prevented Oswald from hurting himself. She was willing each strike to hit the nail square on the head. It was perhaps the only bit of good luck Oswald didn't mind. Her intense focus led him to be extra focused as well. It took several careful moments, but his repairs on the clock were finally finished.

“Finished.” Oswald sighed, setting down his hammer with certainty. “Now all we need to do is wind it up, and see if the birdy’s gonna cuckoo. But we can do that later.”

“Why?” Sabrina questioned.

“The best thing about a spouse,” her caretaker gleefully told her, “Is finding new ways to annoy them.”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything against the idea. If anything, she mentally filed it away for later.

“Do you ever sell the stuff you fix?” the girl then asked as she made her way over to the couch.

“Sometimes.” Oswald agreed, carefully taking the clock with him so he could set it beside the door. He hoped he wouldn’t forget it later. “Ortensia wishes I did it more, really. Says I do nothing more than clutter up the living room, or just create more junk sitting around without use. Thing is; everything’s got a use. It just has to take the right person to see it.”

“Like people?”

Oswald looked up, then turned his head slightly to give the girl an odd look.

“I don’t think I follow, kiddo.” he admitted. “Take me through your thought process.”

Sabrina gave a half shrug. “Everyone has a use.” she said, somewhat in a mumble. “But sometimes the wrong person looks at you and makes the wrong assumption. They treat you bad because they think you deserve it, even when you've done nothing wrong. But you still have that… potential. Potential that could easily be squished if someone decides you're not worthy before ever knowing you.”

“Ah,” Oswald agreed with a nod. “Very philosophical. A very unique perspective too, if I must say. However, them’s some high and mighty words from a girl who trash talked a store mannequin the other day.”

“I could arrange a better outfit than that.” she immediately huffed. “Pairing a tunic blouse with a denim skirt and leggings? It would have created a better silhouette if they had just put flared, knee length capris on it, with a belt a little above the hips. And don't even get me started on the flat colors they chose.”

“I think you're already started.” Oswald laughed.

“Miss Minnie agreed with me,” the child spat. She even blew a raspberry at him for good measure. But in her tall stature, she thought of something. A rather investigative glint hit her eye as she then ventured to ask, “Miss Minnie is married to your brother, isn't she? That's why she makes you fix things for them a lot.”

At first, her only reply was a grunt. He tried to hide it from her this time though; he put on a big smile as he came over to her.

“You're a pretty smart kind, you know that?” he teased while he ruffled her hair. Sabrina was quick to swat his hand away, then fix her hair again. Her stink eye was immeasurable. Oswald pretended not to notice as he took a seat on the couch. “But this clock isn’t for him, or her. This was my personal project, and tonight at dinner, Ortensia’s gonna know it too.”

“Never said it was, or wasn’t.” the girl claimed. She sat tall, but held the afghan closer to her body. “I just… I like Miss Minnie. Just a bit. But then she goes and acts all no-space like Ortensia does, and it's grating. Is she another one that wants to have a super big family even though the one she’s got is perfectly fine?”

“Mickey’s the one who picks up stray puppies.” Oswald told her, rather sharply. “Minnie, much like the rest of us, wants him to mind his own goddamn-”

Oswald cut himself off. He had to force himself to unclench his fists. He looked over at her to find a rather still expression in return.

“What'd your brother ever do to you?” the girl ventured to ask. She had never really asked much about Oswald or his other family. Mostly because she had no interest in it. She was also smart enough to know by now that there was bad blood between Oswald and his brother. But if she was going to open up, then perhaps it was time he did the same. It was only fair.

Unfortunately, his answer was less than satisfying.

“You have your 'don't-talk-abouts', and I have mine.”

“Right.” the kid said with a roll of her eyes. “So I'll just ask Ortensia about them like you ask Brain about mine.”

“Now listen here you little-” Oswald started to grumble as he made a reach for her. Sabrina yelped before getting off the couch with a start. She whipped around the couch and over to a corner. She let the blanket sway with her. Once she thought she found a safe spot, she looked back at Oswald, upturned her nose, and flung the afghan across her chest like it was a silk scarf instead.

“Easy with that thing.” Oswald jokingly huffed at her. “You move it around like you're a queen about to poison a princess. That blanket's an heirloom, you know.”

And that was when he heard it; her first genuine laugh.

“Being a queen would be such a bore.” she grinned. It was mischievous, cunning, and joyful all the same. “All she does is make the king look good, arrange banquets, and sit dutifully next to him even when he’s cheating. I’d rather be a princess. They have about… 30 percent more freedom than queens.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup.” she agreed, even popping her ‘P’ with certainty. “She gets to study abroad for her training, lead dignitaries into the kingdom, maybe even flirt with a foolish footman or two for good measure…”

“What a scandal that will cause.”

“Oh, but it’ll all be covered up before anyone even knows it happened. That’s the thing about royalty and their heirs; they’re always more than willing to sweep things under the rug to keep appearances.”

Oswald snorted. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.” he decided. “Come on princess, let’s hang this cuckoo in the dining room before Ortensia notices.”

“Right,” the girl agreed with a nod. She walked back over to the couch to gently place the afghan blanket over the back. Oswald noted how she very gently folded it into a triangle before placing it down. She didn’t look at him as she went over to the door, but she did pick up the cuckoo clock for him. He smiled a bit before joining her. Together they left the safety of the hobby room and back into the main house.

“You know,” Sabrina mused as they entered the living room, “I’ve noticed that you usually work on older stuff. Like clocks, and projectors, and anything else that existed before Thomas Edison. How come? Why not work on newer stuff like Xboxes and plasma TVs?”

“Well, princess,” Oswald informed her. “That’s because I'm not allowed to work on electronics anymore. Not after an accident where I shorted out a control box and every single firework at Walter Elias Memorial Park went off six hours before the big show. Burnt my eyebrows off during that. Ortensia wouldn't let me leave the house for weeks after, too. Poor honeybunch thought just touching something with a charge would give me a heart attack.”

“Oh…” the girl mumbled. Oswald looked over at her, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“Something wrong?”

Sabrina shook her head. It took her awhile, but she quietly admitted, “Brain and I used to go there a lot. Walt Memorial. We always found a good spot by the jungle gym to watch the fireworks shows. Everyone sits by the safety line, you know. It gets too crowded.”

“Do you like crowds?” Oswald asked as they entered the dining room.

The girl then lulled her head from side to side. She handed Oswald the clock so he could hang it on a spot conspicuously already prepared for it.

“I don't like being invisible in crowds.” she finally decided. “I want everyone to know I'm there.”

“Keep sassing store mannequins, and I’m sure you’ll attract your own crowd.”

She tried to hold it back, but Sabrina let out her second laugh that day. The happy sound brought a grin to Oswald’s face. He was sure Sabrina still had a long way to go to really trust anyone within the family, but at the moment, he couldn’t have asked for a sweeter foster kid.

#writing #writing stuff #writers on tumblr #kingdom hearts #epic mickey #oswald the lucky rabbit #oswald #kingdom hears oc #kh oc #fanfiction #fanfic #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #kh fan fic #found family

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Photo

For Steve

Commission for @cherrydreamer, thank you so much for your commission and your idea! 💕

Read on ao3

“Oh damn .”

Steve smiled bashfully, looking down at his feet, wrapped up in silk.

He had gotten a new set today, pretty lace panties matched the garter belt perfectly , stockings clipped in and held high on his thighs.

The bralette was see-through, but the lace on the trim matched everything else.

“Gimme a spin.” He turned around for Billy, throwing him a sultry look over his shoulder.

The panties were cut high on his ass cheeks, and he knew the straps of the garters framed his ass just right . He had checked in the mirror.

Billy was just about salivating as Steve turned back around, walking slow and sexy back to him.

“Jesus, Baby. I’ll never get tired of you dressin’ up all pretty for me.”

Billy grabbed him around the waist, tossing him onto the bed, pressing his body over Steve’s.

And Steve loved sharing this with Billy, loved that Billy got such satisfaction from his outfits , his makeup , but something didn’t sit right with Steve.

Maybe it was the dressin’ up all pretty for me .

It wasn’t for Billy.

It was for Steve.

He felt the most beautiful , the most confident , the most himself in stuff like this, delicate lingerie Billy was now taking off of him with his teeth , pretty dresses, and elegant makeup.

He had since he was little and he and Carol would sneak into his mother’s things to play dress up with her expensive clothes, her fine jewelry and her makeup.

“Stevie, you with me?” Billy was kneeling between Steve’s legs, his brows drawn close together. “You kinda zoned out on me for a second.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry.”

“What’s up, Buttercup? You not in the mood? ‘Cause we don’t have to-”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, got all dressed up. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Steve was expecting Billy to say something vulgar, maybe lick a stripe up Steve’s chest, but Billy’s eyebrows just scrunched closer, and he pulled away .

He moved to sit next to Steve instead of his position between his legs.

“What’s goin’ on?” Billy had put on his serious voice . “Why would it go to waste?”

“If we don’t fuck.” Steve was feeling too exposed, the lingerie usually felt like a fucking suit of armor , but it was all askew, tugged on and shifted, and Steve felt like he had nothing tethering him down , not Billy, not the lingerie.

“But, I mean, don’t you just like wearing it?” Billy was talking slowly, the way he always did when he had too much going through his brain, had to choose his words carefully .

Steve took a breath.

“Look, you’ve been really cool about all, uh, this ,” he gestured to himself, his body wrapped in lace and silk. “But I know you only roll with it for sex stuff-”

“Okay, wait just a damn minute .” Steve snapped his jaw shut as Billy held up a finger. “You think I just roll with it for sex stuff ?”

“I mean, yeah.” Billy sighed, shaking his head.

He stood up from the bed, went to pace in front of it.

Steve’s shoulders rose closer to his ears with every pass Billy did at the foot of his bed. He tugged the duvet up and over himself.

“I can’t believe you would think that I just rolled with it for sex stuff .” He was talking really fucking slowly, taking calculated breaths as he paced. “I don’t know who to be mad at.”

“Wait, I’m not following.”

Billy finally turned to look at him.

“If I should be mad at you for thinking so little of me, or mad at myself for leading you to think that.”

Steve’s jaw fucking dropped .

“Steve, I love when you wear the things you do. I love how beautiful- how confident you are in them.”

“But you, you said when I dress up for you -”

“That was just, like, dirty talk. I know it’s not for me.” Billy’s eyes were intense , he had stood pacing, holding onto the footboard of the bed so tightly his knuckles were white .

“Oh.” Steve looked down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers.

He felt fucking stupid .

“Baby, look at me.” Billy moved to sit on the end of the bed.

Steve glanced up at him, looking back down.

“Baby.” Steve forced eye contact.

“I’m sorry I made you think I was only letting you dress like this for sex. I want you to be happy , Sugar. In any way that means.”

But Steve’s smile was way too tight, and it just didn’t sit right with Billy.

“I got you somethin’.” Steve perked up at the idea of a gift, loved getting presents.

But like, not in a selfish way.

“What is it?” Steve scoot right up next to Billy, hooking his chin over his shoulder to look into Billy’s bag.

Billy tried to keep it closed, feeling around inside of it.

“It’s nothing really special , and I mean, it might be like, cheap -” he was actually nervous , babbling along about whatever it is.

“Billy, just gimme .” He jammed his hand into Billy’s bag, snatching the wad of fabric and tugging it out.

It was a dress.

A pretty simple dress, soft thin cotton with a pretty little floral pattern. It was spaghetti strap, and Steve fucking loved it .

“Oh my God .”

“I got it at the thrift store. Didn’t steal it or nothin’.”

“Wouldn’ta minded if you did.” Steve planted a kiss on his cheek, shooting off up the stairs to go try it on.

Billy was, well he was a little bit giddy to see Steve in the dress.

He had been aimlessly wandering the aisles, trying to think of things he’s already seen Steve wear before, but kept trying to stay focused , didn’t want to get anything too sexy .

Which was fucking hard to do , because he's pretty sure Steve could wear a goddamn potato sack and still look-

“Oh damn .”

Steve bit his bottom lip, modeling the dress for Billy.

It fit him well, Billy was pleased.

It was black, little pink and purple flowers dotting the fabric.

He gave a spin, the skirt flaring out just a bit.

“You look beautiful , Baby.”

“Thank you, Bill. This was really sweet of you.”

“These would be cute on you.” Steve just barely reacted to Billy’s voice quick enough to catch the pair of overalls he had tossed.

They were cute, would be a little baggy on Steve, but that was kinda the look , Steve guessed.

“Don’t you think they’re kinda, like, schlubby ?” Billy raised one eyebrow, a sparkle of laughter in his bright eyes.

“You’ve worn schlubbier.” Steve snapped the overalls at Billy. “They’ll be cute! Just put ‘em on.”

Billy was right .

Steve had put a lace bralette underneath them, and even though they were baggy, they were cute.

And they were also the most non-sexualized thing Steve has ever seen .

Even with the peak of skin on the sides, they weren’t sexy , they were just fun and comfortable and fucking cute .

Billy’s eyes lit up when he saw Steve.

“I told you .” Steve just gave him a look . Billy tugged on the straps, pulling Steve closer to his body. “They’re cute. You’re cute.” Steve just laughed, dodging Billy’s attempt to plant a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

“Yeah? Well, you’re buying.”

“You look nice.” Billy planted a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

He had been careful with his compliments lately. Wording them very specifically.

Saying you look nice or that color is very pretty on you. Makes your eyes pop or even a I can tell you feel good .

It was sweet , his own little way to affirm Steve, trying his very best not to sexualize his compliments.

He’s been extra careful about validating Steve in the everyday.

But sometimes, Steve wanted to be a bit of a tease .

They were quiet moving down the stairs, the socks resting high up on their thighs.

Billy wasn’t paying any attention, immersed in one of his heavy books he devoured like candy.

Steve bit their bottom lip, causally knocking a coaster of the end table.

“Oh, oops .”

Billy looked up just in time to see Steve bent over, short lilac skirt riding up, delicate lace panties on display.

He swallowed thickly, eyes snapping back to his book as they move to stand.

Steve pouted for a moment, slowly smiling when they realized how pink Billy’s cheeks had gone, how his eyes had gone unfocused.

“You know, you’re allowed to look , sometimes. I know you’re being all sweet , but sometimes it’s okay to be, not sweet .”

Billy looked up, his tongue rolling deliberately across his bottom lip.

“Baby, you’re makin’ a man lose all sense of resolve.” Billy sounded wrecked .

Steve was delighted .

They were in a short skirt, one of Billy’s shirts tucked into the top, and of course , the long socks.

But Billy’s seen them in sluttier , in flimsier and more see-through, in sexier .

So maybe it wasn’t how much of their body was on display, Steve thought as Billy slammed his book closed, pinned them up against the wall with his body.

Billy was like a little puppy when Steve returned home from a shift at Family Video that evening.

It was their first weekend in the new apartment, the teeny little shoebox overlooking the gas station, with only one bedroom and only one queen-sized bed.

“I did something.” Billy was hopping from foot to foot, positively giddy .

Steve took their time removing their shoes.

“How worried should I be?”

Last time it was I did something , Billy had flooded the bathroom in Steve’s parents’ house.

“Oh, ye of little faith. Just come on .”

Billy pulled their wrist, made Steve stumble along behind him.

He smiled brightly outside of their bedroom, pushing the door open with his hip as he slid both hands over Steve’s eyes, leading them inside.

Steve was dizzy, completely disoriented.

And then Billy pulled away his hands.

Their shared closet had been completely redone.

Billy had worked all day installing the organizing system.

There were drawers, organized with extreme care.

“So, I got all your just for show stuff in this set of drawers, and this set is all your more practical stuff,” Billy opened one of the just for show drawers, revealed a few lingerie sets stored delicately, laying flat and wrinkle-free. “All your clothes-clothes are hanging up, and shoes are on the rack.”

Steve was speechless , began pawing through the three-quarters of the walk-in closet that now belonged to Steve and their stuff .

“Bill, I-”

“I mean, I got a few new things, too. I was walking past that boutique Susan is always trying to get Max into, and I guess they’re going out of business, or something, because everything was like, seventy-five percent off , so I just like, took a bunch.”

“Yeah, the whole fucking store ?”

Billy just smiled bashfully at his feet.

“You like it?”

Steve wrapped their arms carefully around Billy’s neck.

“I love it .”

Billy stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart was fluttering in his chest, and he kinda felt like he could throw up from such a perfect scene.

Steve was humming to themself, swaying along to the Proclaimers record playing in the kitchen, turning to their cat to sing along to Over and Done With .

Their dress brushed the tops of their ankles, the pretty floral material flowed as they danced.

Billy was so fucking in love.

He dumped his bag down, kicking off his boots to stalk towards Steve.

The dress was silky and delicate as he wrapped one arm around Steve’s waist, the other hand holding tightly to their hand.

Steve gave a bright laugh as they began clumsily dancing with one another.

“I love you so much .”

Steve’s smile was like the sun , made Billy feel warm to his core, made him feel whole and healed and safe .

Steve tossed their head with the music, let Billy lead them into a spin, a terrible dip.

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galaxyguidetolovinggirls · 3 years

Text

The Galaxy Guide to loving girls presents: Fashion across the galaxy.

Ladies. We all know how to dress to impress. We all have that special dress, or that cute skirt that will make your gf or every girl in the club fall over her heels for you. But as big as our closets are the galaxy is even bigger. And fashion changes in different ways depending on where you are. For those who haven't visit the outer rim, who have never go down the rabbit hole of parties on the core worlds or venture into Hutt Space, we bring you fashion trends and advices from every corner of the galaxy

Core Worlds

Naboo. Let me tell you something. If you are a cute girl really into pastel colors, silk robes and dresses that go all the way down to the floor, jewelry from every corner of the galaxy or just really, but REALLY sexy swimsuits, Naboo is your place. Home to the capital of Fashion, Theed, and has a little bit for everyone! The beaches and lakes are a great place to get some skin out, so take some sunscreen and a cute swimsuit and relax. The raves are also a wild space where you can have some fun with some of the cutest girls in the galaxy. You will be getting into a beautiful and wild rainbow of colors, where people laugh, drink and dance until they cant stand. And finally tea parties in the city are the best place to try new things. The nobles from Naboo are really grounded and they try to give back at the people. Getting invited is a bit tricky as everyone wants to go but its a excellent place to go out in your fancy clothes.

Alderaan. Fancy. That's what you need to think when dressing up for Alderaan. For years, the different houses of Alderaan had made the planet into a jewel for high society parties and ball dances! As so, the people in Alderaan love to dress to impress. Think tight dresses with the best cuts, amazing haircuts, and of course, the most impressive lingerie and tattoos you can think off! For Alderanians, everything should be fashionable. Your hair, your skin, your clothes and even your underwear. Of course you can also hit the more casual parties. Most of the population like the fashion from the nobles, but they also want to relax every now and then. So you can get yourself some old clothes, some easy makeup, flats, and just go and share a drink around a fire. Casual parties are often in the middle of the wood so you can get away from the noise of the cities

Corellia. Now listen up ladies. Corellia is the bomb. And i'm not saying that in some sick way because of all the imperial bombardments. Corellia is a place where you can go and fuck around. You want to go for wild colors? You want to wear all black in the middle of the park? You want to have a skirt shorter than your ass and strings as a bra? Corellia has a place for everyone! From the east plazas to the north raves, Corellia embraces diversity of extreme styles like no other place.

Outer Rim

Tatooine. Now listen. Many people don't know this but there is an actual FASHION WORLD in Tatooine. Most smugglers across the galaxy end up in here after running away with some loot. So to cheat boredom, they began to go through their goods and loot to thrown parties. After a while this parties became a nice event that has become a tradition. The hottest things in Tatooine beside the sand, are ponchos and hats! You need to protect yourself from the sun ladies so sunglasses are also really cool! The colors are usually clear and with few jewels so you dont tempt the patrons. But if you fancy some new type of fashion, head over Tatooine for a party! Just remember your sunscreen.

Nar Shaddaa. The fashion on Nar Shaddaa has 2 sides. Neon and wild colors and High Sexy Fashion. If you have been in Nar Shaddaa, or at least its higher levels, you know that the world is a big Ad. Everyone wants you to go and spend money in either a casino or in a bar. As so, most streets are filled with Neon signs and wild colors to hook you up. Parties are the same. Nobody will be judging you here so go wild, get yourself as many colors as you want, some high heels or flats that make you feel cute and hit whatever party you want. Some bars have a color scheme so if you really want to kill it, try to plan ahead. Otherwise even wearing 6 or 7 colors is cool! Now there's also the highest parties. Here, people with power and influence throw their sexiest dresses and go to have some fun. Most parties of course are private but there are a good amount that will let you in as long as you look cute or sexy. These parties are usually wild as everyone invited will be looking to hook up.

Rishi. Now girls! Rishi is the capital of pirates. If you thought Nar Shaddaa was a paradise for smugglers Rishi is heaven on steroids. But worry not! There are some good souls in Rishi that want to keep civilians safe so they can spend money around. And one of the best attractions on the planet is the Jungle Cat Walk! Here, pirates and smugglers lend all the clothes they have to the prettiest girls, so they can walk around the party and catch buyers. There's also pirate fashion battles, where a group of girls try to come up with a new outfit out of random stuff in a box in order to win. And of course, for all of you not in a pirate gang or smuggling goods, you can go and enjoy yourself in the after party! The fashion in Rishi is wild. You must look as cute and dangerous as you can! People even carry knives under their dresses just to look better! Greeen, gold and red are your best friends. And there are plenty of beaches for you to go and try for a wild swimsuit. Do try to avoid heavy jewelry as you don't want to tempt locals

Special Mentions

Dromund Kaas. Now I know that not everyone wants to go get themselves in the middle of some sith drama. But if you manage to stick to the drama free parts of Kaas City, you will actually have a good time. Now as the capital of all things sith and scary, Droming Kaas is also the capital of all things goth and metal. If you fancy wearing black as dark as your soul, metal spikes and chains, or just a dramatic dress out of a fantasy movie, you will be right at home. Of course, not everything is black in Kaas. Some people like to wear white and gold to look like characters from movies. Some even wear fake armor just to look cool. As i said. The capital of drama is a place where you can wear whatever as long as it is amazing. Cosplayers might find this is their own little paradise. Just stay away from wearing anything to similar to prominent sith’s

#wlw #star wars #starwars #swtor #star wars lesbian #starwars lesbian #swtor lesbian #star wars: the old republic #starwars wlw #star wars wlw #lesbian #The Galaxy Guide to Loving Girls #Galaxy Guide to loving girls #star wars fashion #starwars fashion #swtor fashion #star was gay

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arcanaaurora · 3 years

Text

My Fan Apprentice

Full Name: Aurora Mythos

Nickname(s): Little Birdie (Asra/Julian), Bird (Muriel/Lucio), Witch (Valerius)

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Heterosexual (Still exploring though)

Ethnicity: Chinese

Job: Shop keeper

Favorite Food: Chicken Lumpia

Favorite Drink: Hot chocolate

Favorite Color: Red Gold

Favorite Flower: Red Rose

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Species: Phoenix

Height: 5’5ft, 168cm (Human), 5’8ft, 176cm (Phoenix)

Weight: 107lbs (Human), 13lbs (Phoenix)

Hair Color: Black

Hair Length: Long, 3’5ft

Skin Color: Warm undertone

Eye color: Dark brown

Body type: Ecto-endomorph

Normal:

Golden choker necklace

Gold bracelet cuffs

Red-black sleeveless crop top

Black leggings

Orange, red, black gypsy skirt

Black flats

Brown satchel

Gold ponytail cuff

Palace:

Maroon over-the-shoulder top

Matching harlem pants with gold trims

Black curved flats

Brown satchel

Gold bracelet cuffs

Gold ponytail cuff

Dark red lipstick

Black eyeshadow

Light red blush

Bath:

Black see-through lace bathrobe with gold trims

Sleep:

Black silk nightgown

Masquerade:

Black high heels

Phoenix mask with a red veil over the mouth

Gold collar choker necklace with a ruby pendant

Red-orange silted dress with gold trims and black over-the-shoulder feathers

Golden waistband

Orange see-through fabric over the shoulder

Golden bracelet cuffs

Two gold and ruby hair wreaths (One with a red rose)

Dark red lipstick

Black eyeshadow

Light red blush

Others:

Feathers are orange and black at the tip. Her head, tail, and ear feathers have a yellow spot at the black tip.

Beak, legs, and claws are all black

Only her ear feathers are visible in her human form, camouflaged as her earrings. However, they don't make the best disguise as they tend to glow whenever she's flustered/blushing/angry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Positive traits:

Introverted, Ambitious, Mature, Loyal, Considerate

Negative traits:

Stubborn, Moody, Mischievous, Rebellious

Habits:

Rubbing her thighs under the table

Crossing/Uncrossing her legs while sitting

Playing with her hair when bored/flirty

Biting her bottom lips when “excited”

Prolonged eye contact during conversation

Likes:

Julian (Love interest)

Musical shows

Dancing & singing

Magic

Animals (Including Faust and her familiar)

Art

Flying

Dislikes:

The Courtiers (Minus Volta)

The Devil (Has an irrational fear on him)

Lies and secrets

Molting seasons

Getting her feathers plucked out

Hobbies: Drawing & Writing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asra

Having known Asra for three years now, she considers their relationship as teacher and student. At least it was until the incident at the palace fountain. Now Aurora acknowledges his love for her (It was easily obvious based on their past interactions), but it's difficult to love someone back when you barely even know them. She does care about Asra though. After all, he was the first person she met upon opening her eyes for the first time and was there to help her adjust to this new lifestyle. He’s also the only person who knows about her phoenix form and enable in hiding it from public view. Yet, she doesn't want to hurt his feelings and attempts to rekindle their bond. Even it's all pretend and memories of someone else...

Julian

The moment Julian first entered her shop and took off his mask, it was love at first sight. She couldn't help but feel captivated by the doctor from the tips of his curly auburn hair to his flair for the dramatics. It didn't help the fact when she discovered his “kinks”. Everything about him had given rise to a different side of her character: More confident, more vivacious, more...seductive. Despite her task by the Countess to report him to the guards if found, Aurora doesn't believe Julian to be the culprit behind the death of Count Lucio, either out of foolish love or lawful justice. Whatever the case may be, she knows it is unjust to take a man’s life without credible evidence.

Nadia

Aurora was quick to accept her unexpected visit to her shop. It would be rude to close up right then and there before a customer would arrive. It would only take a few minutes anyway. So you can imagine her surprise when the Countess unveiled her hood, revealing her true identity. Aurora felt a bit intimidated by her presence, bowing to her instinctively out of respect towards royalty. But after being showered with gifts and fine dining by Nadia and then being invited to her palace, her guard had diminished a bit. Although she is nervous about telling the Countess of her skepticisms around Julian and the Count’s death, she still appreciates the offerings yet wishes she could give back in return for her generous hospitality.

Portia

Instant BFFs!!! Both respect the countess and deeply care about their loved ones to the point of risking their lives for them, including against the courtiers. It's uncanny for both of them to get into mischief around Versuvia as well. And since Portia is Julian’s little sister, Aurora has another reason to further deny Nadia’s order and trusts her in reclaiming his innocence. She’s also the first to notice Aurora’s infatuation with her brother.

Muriel

It would be a lie to say that Aurora wasn’t spooked by Muriel’s sudden appearance at her shop. She was careful not to poke the bear with the stick though. After their second encounter at the marketplace, she finds herself walking on eggshells as she attempts to form a friendship with this stranger and his connections with Asra and the others.

Lucio

Although Aurora has never met the Count in person and only knows him via words from others, it suffices to say that she’s not the biggest fan of him. Looking at his portrait in the dining room, she could easily see the arrogance within him. Of course, you can’t judge a book by its cover. So after being pulled into his wing by his fellow canines and encountering his supposed ghost, curiosity pulls her to investigate further. If she dared to gain evidence from the victim behind the crime.

The Courtiers

Her outlook on them varies between each member.

Procurator Volta is the only one with whom Aurora seems to have a stable bond. Because of her small stature and naive, childlike mannerism, she didn't pose much of a threat, especially after Aurora discovered her weakness pretty quickly. Whatever info she wants from the courtiers, she’ll get it easily from Volta with a single plate of roasted pork. At first, Aurora was only using her as an easy outsource for evidence. But the more she shared food with Volta, the more closer Aurora got with the procurator. To the point where she often acts like a big sister for Volta anytime one of the courtiers or anyone else is giving her a bad time.

Praetor Vlastomil is a peculiar individual in her book. Aurora was a bit weirded out by his fascination with worms but not too disgusted. In her words, it's not the most unusual obsession she's seen before. Despite that, Aurora’s a bit salty towards Vlastomil instilling false accusations against Julian for the Count’s death.

Conversations with Pontifex Vulgora are never peaceful. Violent confrontations are common between them.

Aurora’s relationship with Consul Valerius is a mixed bag of civil chats and snarky insults. They aren’t on each other’s best terms with his snobbish sass and her unrelenting stubbornness.

Quaestor Valdemar is the only one that managed to send chills down Aurora’s spine. Something about their demeanor and tone as well as their obsession with science itself I settled her. She tries to keep her distance from Valdemar. But if they dare hurt one of her loved ones, she won’t hesitate to confront them.

Regardless of her grudges with each of the courtiers, she’ll instantly drop all of them once their lives are in peril.

Her Familiar

Lexi is the name of her Canadian Goose familiar. She was a gift given by Asra (And Muriel). Aurora loves her goose the day she hatched out from the egg. Raised as a free-range, Aurora will sometimes take her wherever she goes, either to the marketplace to buy her favorite bread from the baker or the docks/town square for a swim. She’ll have her waddling behind her. Other times, Lexi will be in her satchel, which she hates. But it's necessary in order to keep an eye on her from causing a fuss in town.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Backstory:

Aurora recalls no memory before waking in the shop with Asra hovering over her. Both were scared and confused upon first meeting. Asra baffled by his “apprentice” coming back to life as a bird rather than, what he expected, human, while Aurora was overwhelmed with who/what/where questions. It took him overnight to gather his bearings and settle her down before anything else could happen. The next few weeks were spent inside the shop, helping her regain basic skills such as cooking, teaching her magic, and explaining the new world she's in. Teaching her about Versuvia and its history and culture.

Once she was able to master cloaking a human form, she was allowed to explore the outside world with Asra, or rather as far as the city perimeter. Either way, she felt so free to finally see what lies beyond the walls of the magic shop. But then Aurora started noticing small details, specifically the strange looks from the people. As if she doesn't belong here despite Asra’s encouragement.

There were a few gaps in Asra’s retelling of her life, some that made no sense. Minus the occasional headaches and catatonics now and then, she's also experiencing unusual nightmares. Dreams of herself but... a different version of her, as if from the past. The details are a bit hazy but all that Aurora recalls are that she was in her phoenix form with someone and a different person back then.

She doesn't know where to look for clues yet knows that Asra may not have all the answers she wanted. Whatever the reason may be for her existence, she's determined to find the truth.

Whatever it takes.

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 34: Jon

Sasha apparently has a particular New Year’s Eve tradition involving a karaoke club and far too much alcohol, and the Primes are understandably not enthusiastic about the whole concept, so in the end it’s just Jon and Martin and Tim who venture out to the celebrations. Martin manages to coax Charlie’s grandmother into allowing them to take him along, and they have a grand old time. Jon manages to actually get a decent picture at one point, and now his phone background is of Charlie perched on Martin’s shoulders, arms folded on top of his head, with Tim standing beside them, all three of them looking up at the sky with expressions of absolute delight and wonder. It makes him smile every time he looks at it.

Back in the Archives, they all buckle down to an individual project, in addition to their regular duties. Tim, of course, is still attempting to get a handle on his newfound ability to see the color of fears. It’s slow going, since Jon absolutely forbids him to practice in the Archives, or anywhere on Institute property, until he’s got a better handle on it; the sheer overwhelming presence of the Eye means he can’t look around without nearly passing out, so he finally agrees to hold off until he gets to a point where he can target it to a single person or object, or at least narrow down his field of vision. Jon Prime warns that that’s something that will only come with time, but Tim is determined. He at least makes some small progress.

Martin starts working on a cross-index of the statements they’ve studied—not just which ones relate, or seem to relate, to the same entities, but ones that have common names, locations, circumstances, or even dates. Honestly, it’s the sort of thing they should have been doing from the beginning; it’s just that Martin is the only one with any kind of library training, so he’s the only one who thought of it. And now that they know more about what’s going on, he has something to work with. Wisely, he saves it to a flash drive rather than on the Institute’s servers, so there’s no chance anyone outside the four of them or someone they approve to help out can use it.

Sasha focuses on the Institute, or more specifically on its Heads. While the four of them know that it’s actually been Jonah Magnus the entire time, or at least his eyes, she’s interested in the apparent successors—why they were chosen, how they were chosen, where they came from and what happened to them when Jonah Magnus was ready to move on, at least ostensibly. Jon cautions her to be careful, and she reassures him with a flurry of technical terms he loses track of halfway through, but there’s a crackle and pop of static that makes them both wince but leaves them with the Knowledge that she’s right. Her research is as secure as can be.

For his part, Jon digs into Gertrude.

He knows Jon Prime has some knowledge of her—of her travels, her past—but he wants to find out as much as he can on his own. Besides, he isn’t sure Jon Prime has the answers he’s looking for. Really, he’s not sure what answers he is looking for, but whatever it is, he’s going to do the research himself. It just feels like it’s cheating otherwise. So he tries to find out as much as he can about where she came from, how she came to the Institute, and what sort of things she might have been up to.

In doing his research, he comes across the startling information that Gertrude’s flat is still unlet. Apparently there were some legal complications due to the nature of her disappearance and death, and she was paid up for several months, so the agent simply never bothered to clean the place out. Something about this nags at him with a sense of wrongness, but—perhaps unwisely—he ignores it and keeps looking.

He tells his team that he plans to break into the flat. Tim and Martin both protest, and even he has to admit it’s not the world’s best idea, but he can’t think of any other way to gain access. Sasha rolls her eyes and tells him to give her twenty minutes.

Two hours later, he presents himself at the lending agent’s office as Gertrude Robinson’s grandson and asks, all innocence, what they’ve done with her things.

The agency is only too happy to let Jon clear the place out, even providing Jon with a couple of boxes in case he wants to take things with him. Jon’s not sure what he would want to take, but he accepts anyway. If nothing else, he can take it all and they can sort through it with the Primes’ help. The agent brings him up to Gertrude’s flat, lets him in, and tells him to just lock it behind him when he leaves, then wishes him luck and leaves him alone.

Jon gives the agent to the count of ten to get well away while he unwinds his scarf and unzips his jacket, then reaches into his inner pocket. Once upon a time it’s where he kept his cigarettes, but what he pulls out now is his new tape recorder. Not that he went out and bought one, of course, or that anyone on the team bought it—as far as he knows. They all came back from the holidays to find a neatly-wrapped package topped with a black-and-white striped bow on each of their desks; when they, with some trepidation, unwrapped them, they found separate and distinct tape recorders—a pretty clear sign, as Sasha says with what Jon considers unnecessary enthusiasm, that they’re all meant to be recording statements. And probably everything else they do. Since Elias doesn’t seem to know about them, they’re not using them for anything official, but Jon knows they’re all dictating their supplemental research onto them. He checks to make sure the tape is properly loaded, then thumbs the RECORD button.

“Right,” he says. “I’m standing in Gertrude Robinson’s flat. Former flat, I suppose I should say, but it hasn’t been relet and all her things are still here…such as they are. Thanks to Sasha, and some technical maneuvering I am not going to ask about on the grounds that she is an excellent and able assistant and I don’t want to have to visit her in prison, I was able to gain access by plausibly claiming to be her grandson. I’m here to look around and…hopefully get a better idea of her. So…let’s begin.”

He keeps up a running commentary as he searches the apartment. Gertrude’s life was an austere one; the kitchen contains nothing but a collection of teabags, a pot, a kettle, and a single mug. Jon goes ahead and packs it all into a box, especially the tea, which is Martin’s preferred variety. The bed is neatly made, as if she expected to be back soon—which, well, of course she must have—and she has no more than a dozen different outfits. Three suits—two skirt, one pant—and a red silk chiffon evening gown of a style popular in the 1970s hang in the closet, along with two pairs of sensible brogues and a pair of pointy-toed high heels; the drawers contain a few pullovers and a couple pairs of more casual slacks, beyond the usual assortment of undergarments.

The bookshelf draws his attention. It’s a single shelf, filled with books, but there are no others in the apartment. Quickly, he scans the spines, narrating a few of the titles into his recorder, before stopping and sighing.

“It’s…it seems to be mostly nonfiction,” he says. “Some fiction, but most of these appear to be books on history. I don’t have time to go through them all here, so I’m going to do the next best thing. The agent did tell me to pack up and take what I wanted and they’ll throw away the rest. There might be something useful in here. And if all else fails, we’ll have some new books to read, I suppose.”

His first box is relatively full, so he sets up a second box and begins layering the books in it, muttering to himself as he does so. “I have no idea if all of these will fit in this box or not, but we’ll see what we can do. For that matter, I don’t know if I’m even going to be able to pick it up myself. And if I have to carry more—”

The lightbulb goes out overhead with a faint, metallic pop.

Jon blinks the spangles away from his retinas and glances up with an exasperated sigh. It was late in the afternoon when he arrived here, and the sun has set by now, so with Gertrude’s unexpectedly thick, dark curtains drawn, there’s no light coming from outside. The ceiling light is too high for Jon to reach; he has a brief moment of wishing Martin was there, or Tim, before heaving himself to his feet with a sigh. He gives his eyes a second to adjust, then makes his way carefully towards the end table with its small china lamp. It’s not optimal, but it will at least give him enough light to see.

“You don’t want to do that,” a sing-song voice says from behind him.

Jon nearly leaps out of his skin. Footsteps sound behind him—sharp and crisp and ominous—and he turns around to make out a tall, slim shadow moving towards him.

“I mean,” the same voice continues, “you can if you really want to, but you’re not going to like it. Sometimes not being able to see is a good thing.”

“Wh-who are you?” Jon stammers out. He tries to tell himself that it’s simply one of Gertrude’s neighbors, that this is perfectly harmless, but he doesn’t believe it. The last eight months have knocked most of his capacity for deliberate self-delusion right out of him.

He can’t actually see the grin in the darkness, but he can hear it. “Well, my father named me Nikola, and then I killed him, so I thought I rather deserved to have his second name, too. Which makes me Nikola Orsinov. Pleased to meet you at last.”

Jon now wishes Tim or Martin were here for a completely different reason. He swallows hard. “Y-you, ah—you killed Gregor Orsinov?”

“Yep!” Nikola Orsinov says brightly. “He was really boring, and I’m a monster. What did you want me to do—not pull him to pieces? I did use all the bits.”

Jon can feel the bile rising in his throat and mingling with the terror, threatening to choke him. “How—how did you get in here?”

“I followed you, silly! You didn’t even lock the door.” There’s a slight creaking noise as the shadowy figure shakes its head. “Gertrude would be so disappointed in you. You let me into her house!”

“There’s nothing here,” Jon says. He fervently hopes that’s true. “N-nothing important…”

“Oh, I don’t believe that. And neither do you, or you wouldn’t be here! That nasty old Eye wouldn’t have told you to come if there wasn’t a reason.”

Jon wonders if it was actually the Eye’s idea that he come here, or if it was his own idea, or a conflation of the two. He also wonders if anyone will hear him if he screams, if he can make it past Orsinov to the door or if he’ll need to use the window, and if he’ll manage to survive if he passes out. Irrationally, on top of all of this, he finds himself trying to remember the name of that girl in his Intro to Drama class with the gift for fainting on cue without hurting herself. Slowly, he reaches for the lamp.

“Don’t turn that on,” Orsinov orders, somehow managing to sound sharp and intimidating while at the same time never losing the high, lilting, almost childish sweetness to her voice.

Jon freezes. The name Ellie Hall slams into the front of his brain and he desperately tries to clear it away. He refuses to let his last thoughts be ones of regret, refuses to wonder if he’d still be trapped in a dark flat with a manifestation of the fear of the unknown if he’d stayed on the theatre track, certainly refuses to waste any more brainpower on the stereotypical prima donna who’d been the reason he switched his degree path in the first place. Think, he tells himself. He needs to pull up something to give him strength, or at least the courage to face his doom.

His hand falls away from the lamp and hits his pocket; his fingers trace the outline of his phone through the fabric. He thinks of the picture on the background—of Martin and Tim with Charlie, watching the fireworks display. The people he cares about are waiting for him to come home. Whether they need him or not is immaterial. They’re waiting for him and he can’t let them down.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail.

“Are you here to kill me?” he asks, and he manages to ask it without his voice shaking. Small victory, but he’ll take it.

“No!” Orsinov says, sounding absolutely aghast. Jon relaxes, marginally, until she adds after a moment’s thought, “Well, yes, but not now. That would spoil everything. It would be a shame for you to go to waste.”

Unbidden, Jon wonders how, exactly, she used all of Gregor Orsinov’s “bits” and what she plans to use his for. He really and truly does not want to think about it, but he can’t seem to stop. He decides to put the blame for that on the entity of fearful and forbidden knowledge looming over his shoulder. “Wh-why are you here then?”

“I’ve heard so many interesting things about you, Archivist. I decided it was finally time for us to have a good old chat,” Orsinov says. “Face to no face! Eye to…well.”

Face to no face. Okay. Jon is definitely not turning on the light now. “What have you heard?”

“Well!” Orsinov says with relish. “First my friends came to make a delivery for you, and they said you called on all sorts of nasty powers to send them away. That wasn’t very nice, Archivist. It’s rude to chase away your guests.” She gives a delighted little laugh—not a giggle, not like Michael’s, but unnerving in its own way. ��And then it turns out we have a friend in common! Isn’t that nice? Only he’s very sneaky. He came to visit Daniel and Sarah, and they thought he was coming to join us in our dance, but then he was…unmasked. He ran away! So very rude.” She sighs. “But then, what do you expect from the Eye? No manners.”

Tim. Oh, God, she knows Tim was at the Trophy Room, of course she does. And if Breekon and Hope are her “friends”, then she knows about Martin and Sasha, too. Jon’s terror compounds. “Leave them alone.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in them. Maybe. Or maybe it’s all of you! But if you can do it by yourself, that would be fine, I’m sure.”

Jon takes a deep breath and squeezes his phone—for luck or comfort, he’s not sure which. “What do you want from me, then?”

“I want you to find that old skin for me,” Orsinov says cheerily.

“The sk—the gorilla skin?” It’s the only thing Jon can think of—the gorilla skin missing from the Trophy Room when Tim went to investigate.

“Mm-hmm! We thought nasty old Gertrude had destroyed it, but your friend came asking so many nosy questions, so now we think maybe she was just very good at hiding,” Orsinov told him.

“I’m sorry, you want me to find it for you?” Jon’s tongue seems to have become temporarily disconnected from his brain, because he cannot seriously be talking like this to something that has already made no bones about telling him it tore its creator to pieces.

“That would be lovely. And a lot nicer for you than our other ideas.”

The idea that Gertrude might have stolen a skin from the Trophy Room never occurred to Jon, but now that he thinks about it, it makes sense. He’s beginning to realize that she likely did read all of the statements, at least all the real ones; if he and his team can sense a true statement, surely she could, after forty years. She kept the Archives in disarray in hopes of slowing down Jonah’s plan, but he realizes she had to have read the statements to know they needed to be misfiled, and oh, God, why is he thinking about this now instead of getting out of this alive?

Because, a small voice in the back of his head says, if Gertrude stole the skin, it must be important to the Stranger.

“Wh-why—why do you want it?” Jon stammers out.

Orsinov’s hands clap together twice with a disturbingly hollow, plastic sound, and Jon can’t explain why that’s somehow more terrifying than his initial thought that she was an animated piece of taxidermy like Rawlings and Sarah Baldwin. In a voice of childish glee, she says, “I want to wear it when I dance the world new!”

Jon wonders if he can borrow some of Tim’s wit—what, you’re going to turn it into a dress or something?—but as the thought crosses his mind, another one meets it halfway and strikes him momentarily dumb with terror. The painting Martin Prime described all those months ago—the figure in the warehouse with the manic grin, the man tied to a chair. I thought you’d make a lovely frock.

Oh, God.

“But—but wh—” he begins, but gets no further. A shadowy arm shoots out of the darkness, faster than he can move, and seizes him around the throat in a powerful grip. It is, as he surmised from hearing the clapping, made of plastic—or at least something hard and unyielding—smooth, firm, and cold. He finds himself both wishing he kept his scarf on and glad he didn’t, as the plastic joints would probably pinch at Charlie’s inexpert and uneven stitches and unravel them.

That thought quickly takes second place to the fact that his feet are not touching the floor, followed by the fact that his flow of oxygen is very definitely being cut off.

“Question time is over, little Archivist,” Orsinov says, still in that same sing-song voice. “Find the skin. You have until…well, until I change my mind.”

She opens her hand, and Jon drops to the ground in a graceless, undignified heap. He gasps and sputters, struggling to force air back into his lungs, and looks up at the silhouette looming over him, equal parts terrified and angry.

“Shh,” she says, the sound far eerier than it has any right to be. “Save your energy for the dance.”

The plastic footsteps sound on the laminate again, and Nikola Orsinov is gone, leaving Jon alone in the darkened apartment.

He spends a few minutes greedily gulping down air. Tears stream down his cheeks and he’s not sure if it’s from the near-asphyxiation or from fear or maybe a little bit of both. Rubbing at his sore throat with one hand, he fishes out his phone with the other, activates it, and stares at the picture for a long moment, hoping to draw on that sense of peace and happiness he felt in the moment he took it.

He doesn’t. All he feels is a renewed sense of terror, because everything he loves is in this picture. It’s a reminder of what he stands to lose if he fails—of what can be taken from him in an instant if he’s not careful. He has to find that skin. Somehow.

He thumbs over to his contacts, hovers over the button to call Martin, and stops. He can’t. He’s still coughing and gasping for air, so if he tries to call, Martin will know by his voice something is wrong and try to come after him, and he can’t put him in danger. Can’t worry him, not like that.

Instead, he switches over to the group chat Tim has arbitrarily labeled Team Archives Happy Fun Times And Doomsday Prophylactic Society Executive Committee and sends a text. [Almost done. Where are you all?]

Sasha replies first. [Still back at the Archives. Cleaning up for the night.]

Tim is the next to respond. Rather than words, he sends a picture he obviously took at arm’s length, crammed between Martin and Sasha and with the time and date on a laptop screen behind them prominently displayed. Jon smiles, briefly. They’ve all grown a bit less trusting of text messages since the whole Jane Prentiss incident; he’s pretty sure the next step is going to be code phrases that change on the daily.

[Stay there. All of you. I’ll be back shortly.] Jon struggles to his feet and switches on the lamp. He contemplates the boxes for a moment, then sweeps as many of the books as he can into one and folds it up. The other he unpacks and unfolds again, then tucks the box of tea into his jacket along with the tape recorder. He puts the scarf back on carefully, hoping it’ll hide any bruising, hoists the box in both arms, and remembers to lock the door on his way out.

He drove today. Thank God he drove today. After carefully checking the backseat, the boot, and under the car for stray clowns or mannequins or anything else, really, he climbs into the car and drives the exact speed limit back to the Institute. It’s well past the end of the day by the time he arrives, and it’s a Friday to boot, so he’s pretty much the last car in the parking lot. Jon leaves the box of books in the boot, double-checks the locks, and practically runs down the steps into the Archives.

His team is there, standing by the cluster of desks. Martin is the first to notice, and he makes a small noise that alerts the others to turn around. Jon doesn’t slow down, just charges straight across the Archives floor and all but flings himself at Tim and Martin. As their arms wrap around him, he relaxes for the first time since the lights went out, even though he’s very aware of the fact that he’s still shaking.

“Jon? Jon, what’s wrong?” Martin’s voice is sharp with anxiety. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“We’ve got you. We’ve got you,” Tim murmurs. “It’s okay. You’re safe. What happened?”

“Orsinov,” Jon croaks out, and damn, his voice is still raw. He doesn’t pull back from the comfort of his friends’ embrace, though. “Gregor Orsinov—his, his daughter, I suppose—calls herself Nikola Orsinov—she was there.”

“Oh, God.” Tim pulls both Martin and Jon closer to himself. There’s a brief rustle, and then Jon feels someone else join the embrace; he sincerely hopes it’s Sasha. “In Gertrude’s flat? Was she waiting for you?”

“No—no, she followed me.”

“What did she want?” Sasha asks, and thankfully her voice is right where he’d expect it to be if she was the fourth member of this hug.

Jon tries to take a deep breath and accidentally gets a mouthful of fluff from Tim’s sweater, so it takes a second before he can answer. “The gorilla skin—the one from the statement. The one that Rawlings told you had been stolen. She wants me to find it.”

Some of the pressure eases up; Jon clings harder to Martin and Tim, feeling a little foolish but not really caring. He’s scared, damn it, he needs the comfort, and while sometimes when he’s afraid he wants to be given space and left alone, more and more lately he’s found himself only feeling safe when he’s being held. He decides not to think too hard about what that says about him.

“Why does she think you can find it?” Sasha asks, sounding puzzled.

“A-apparently Gertrude stole it. Orsinov thought she’d destroyed it, but…” Jon hesitates. He doesn’t want to make Tim think it’s his fault.

Tim groans. “But I was asking leading questions, so once Breekon and Hope outed me, she thought we were looking for it, too. God, Jon, I—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Jon insists. “I-it—it’s not your fault.”

“Did she hurt you?” Martin asks quietly. “Or just try to frighten you?”

Oh, Jon is tempted to lie. Martin didn’t force him to answer; he can just stay silent. But his options don’t exist in a vacuum, and he can’t do that to Martin.

“She grabbed me,” he admits. “By the throat. J-just for a minute, but—”

“Oh, God. Let me see.” Martin tries to pull back, but Jon grabs him tighter and shakes his head.

“I’m all right. I’m all right,” he insists. It’s not quite the truth and not quite a lie. “It’s not—I’ll take a look when we get home. I just don’t—right now I don’t want anyone going anywhere alone. Sasha, are you—do you want to spend the night or—”

“I really need to go home,” Sasha says, and when Jon looks over at her, she seems regretful. “Visiting hours tomorrow, and I promised Uncle Wade I’d be there.”

“Okay. Then I’m driving you, at least.”

“I’ll accept a ride.”

Jon nods. “Just…give me a minute.”

He knows it’s silly. Knows it’s a lot to ask of Tim and Martin. But he just needs a few more minutes in the safety of their arms before he has the strength to move.

They don’t talk about it further that night. They drop Sasha off, bring the books into their house, and have dinner. Martin makes a soothing tea and Tim carefully tends to the bruises forming on Jon’s throat and Jon makes tomato soup despite the other two saying he doesn’t have to cook. They end up going to bed early, snug under a quilt and a knitted afghan and cuddled close together. Jon falls asleep safe and warm in Tim and Martin’s arms, and for the first time in over a year, he doesn’t dream.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #time travel fix it au #intimidation tw #mannequins tw #choking tw #darkness mention tw #also the jonmartim is getting less and less subtle #hashtag it's not unrequited they're just idiots

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likesomekindofcheese · 4 years

Text

We are all fools in love (Queen One-shot for LOC event)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x fem! Reader

Word Count: 2115

Summary: Roger Taylor’s your best friend...but looks like the band may need to give you a little push and you both need to admit the truth. Some good ol’ Friends to Lovers.

A/N: Hello @39-ers! Here I am- your Secret Santa revealed!!Here is my gift to you for @dtfrogertaylor Level of Concern Event! It was fun to write and it was wonderful to get to know you- I hope you enjoy it!!! Also shout out to my beta @spicyspideyme! for your quick eye and generous input!!

cw: swearing, smoking, bits and hints about sex (but no actual smut), and mentions of fictional violence. Freddie being the matchmaker like he always is in my fics. Matchmake me plz Freddie

“We’re gonna hold hands, but we aren’t together together!” Roger insisted as you walked through the park.

“How come?” you asked.

The autumn breeze chilled you a bit. A couple leaves fell right before your feet. Stepping on them, there was a satisfying crunch that made you smile. A few park workers were taking away the pumpkins for Halloween festivities and replacing them with banners promoting bonfires for November.

“Because I just don’t want you to get lost! This is a bloody huge city! And the crowds are big!” Roger explained, he waved his arms around the place.

The band and you had hit the dry hours. Other than a few workers, you barely saw a soul.

“I think you forgot…I live in this city. Same as you!” you retorted.

Roger shrugged, scratching the back of his head.

“I just want you to be safe!” he cried.

“Well if it makes you feel like I will be safe, I’ll do it” you said.

Pouting slightly, you accepted his large, smooth hand and continued your walk.

Though the other three just keep laughing in the back at you two making little fusses just like that, eyeing each other at the odd comment and mouths tight shut to keep themselves from laughing.

“It’s like they’re married already,” Brian observed, tightening his red scarf.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but…something has got to got to happen…” John commented.

Freddie waited until you and Roger were far enough away and then turned to the others.

“I’m sick of it! And they are sick of it too! You see it- of all of the sweet glances when the other one isn’t looking! And I’m so fucking sick of hearing Roger keep talking until the cows come home about “how bloody lovely y/n is,” or “y/n did this and it’s amazing! No one’s as smart as y/n!’” he added, lifting his voice up a few pitches to mimic Roger’s.

“Are you lost or what!?” you called behind, looking at the three.

Without another word, Fred led the way quietly for the rest of the walk. But his mind was restless.

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Roger insisted on visiting the vintage shop with you by his side the next day. Not that much had changed in a day, you said. He refused to hear of it.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a retail worker who pointed you to the rack of sale items. There was the smell of old leather and furs already deep in your nose as you noticed a coat from at least the forties.

This is Perfect.

You perused prices, ranging from the extreme to the frugal.

But Fred, knowing you both visited regularly, came in. He stayed away, half hiding behind some blue dresses at least a decade old.

“Doing anything Sunday, Rog?” you asked.

“I’ve got nothing on Sunday, Sundays are always boring!” he complained.

He stared in shocked awe at a garish orange blouse with ruffles on it before moving to the next item.

“Rog, I think Sundays are nice! They’re quiet, peaceful…”

“Ha! You think! It’s too bloody quiet and only the church is open,” he interjected.

Turning your head, you folded your arms crossly.

“Sunday’s are nice, Rog!”

One certain outfit caught your eye when you noticed the mannequin, but checking the price tag you shook your head and let out a small sigh.

“Wanna bet!?” Roger said, offering a hand to you with a smile.

Fred stifled a laughter following the ridiculous little bout. He even bent his legs to hide deeper behind the fifties dresses with starched, crinoline skirts.

“No, no need to bet. There are horror movies that come on Sunday night, I’ll show you! You know how much I love horror movies!” you begged.

Roger’s eyes lit up and he blinked. Then his smile returned rather than his immature pout.

“Really, what channel?”

“Rog, you really have to know. Do you really just go to bars and clubs on Sundays? Just get drunk?”

‘Well, at least they aren’t boring, Y/N!” he argued.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over to where there were pants for women. But you couldn’t help but smile. Roger was an intelligent man. He was just an intelligent man with the instincts of a child sometimes. Secretly it always charmed you.

“Whatever just come over. And don’t get drunk. Not yet,” you said.

Freddie had a deep smile on his lips. He stayed hiding in the shop until you both left. He looked right at the outfit you were eyeing.

This is perfect he thought.

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On Sunday afternoon, there is a red blouse and the nicest pair of pants you had ever seen on your bed, laid out, fresh from the vintage shop.

Your jaw dropped and you held back a small scream at the sight. The shirt you found was a blouse: smooth as silk. The pants fitted you perfectly: lighter colored with a subtle pattern.Walking in front of the mirror, you looked nicer than you ever had before.

Next to where your clothes had been was on a small piece of paper with typewriting on it:

“Thought you’d like it! Please wear tonight! MY gift! XXXX- Rog”

“Well…it’s not too girly and it’s not racy at all…but I better put on a jacket to make it safe.”

Biting your lip, you looked at it in the mirror, examining every inch.

But no. Roger could not have meant it. Not for you at least. You knew there had to be some girl. He would buying lingerie for her. There were always crowds of women after him at parties. He was always calling women up and talking to them.

“There’s just some chick he’s crazy about and he isn’t telling me because he doesn’t want to make it weird…or maybe he’s really into Fred or John or something.”

The thought always made you sad.

“Still, wouldn’t hurt to doll up though, especially if he asked for it…” you thought, feeling that brief glimmer of hope in your belly.

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As Roger sat in his home, reading while smoking his cigarette like a meditation, there was a sudden knock on the door.

“I’m back already!” Fred announced, slightly muffled from the door blocking the way.

When he walked over, Roger could barely breathe a hello when Fred leaned over closely, taking in a large whiff.

“Oh! You’re smoking! I’m dying for one myself- let’s go out!” he announced, his ringer hand grabbing Roger’s arm.

“It’s fine in here, why?”

Freddie flashed his full smile and waved away the apartment entrance. Though at the force Roger was being pulled out it was as if he didn’t have a choice

“Well, darling, you don’t need the landlord on your neck for any reason: and it’s lovely tonight! Moon and stars and all that!” he declared.

They wandered out, talking about everything in between blowing out grey smoke. Though Freddie was changing subjects fast and talking a mile a minute, even for Roger’s standards. But he kept up.

Until he heard her. Y/N’s footsteps and their certain rhythm.

You saw your friends on the side of the block, right outside the flat complex. Finally, you walked up in a light coat, a little odd from the feeling of the outfit.

Oh God, I’ve known both of them for years…why am I suddenly feeling so odd? I look…I must look like a groupie to them, not myself.

“Oh, Y/N! How are you, dear?” Freddie greeted, waving his arms up.

Waving back, you gave him a small hug. Right as you greeted Roger, you heard Freddie ring out from behind you.

“Have to head out! I’ve got to meet someone for a drink- a sudden date, you would say! Farewell, loves! I’ll return later, Rog!”

He was practically waltzing away from the two of you. There was a pause. The breeze picked up and you held your coat tighter for warmth.

“S’bloody cold, Y/N, let’s go in,” Roger offered.

He walked into the complex to where his door was. As he took out his key to the door, you began to talk, albeit shyer than usual.

“By the way, thank you for the gift.”

Roger turned to you, head tilted and squinting.

“Huh? What gift?” he asked.

As his key went in, he noticed it was already unlocked. Barely shrugging it off, he opened the door.

It was filled with candles and roses.

You both gasped, a little shocked and smiling. Though your insides felt like butter. There was distant patter of footsteps a few feet away, like a small stampede of horses. But when you glanced out to the other doors there was no one.

“Roger, it…it looks beautiful!” you praised.

“Why it…it does, but Y/N…I didn’t do it,” he confessed.

He looked down and scratched his head. His cheeks were the color of the rose petals.

“What, really?” you asked.

As you took off your jacket casually to hang it up in the coat closet, Roger kept staring at your outfit. Now his whole face matched the roses.

“That’s…pretty weird. But…nice of them. The boys, I mean.”

“I just got this outfit with a card saying it was from you,” you recalled.

Roger huffed and scuttled over to the chairs and turned the knob on his tv set. He continually checked his watch to be safe for the time.

“Anyway, uh, films on, let’s…let’s watch it!” he blubbered.

And the mysterious gifts and their origin were left ignored.

Roger folded his arms and tried his best to stare at the movie best he could, biting back almost a laugh or even a smile.

But as the killer in the movie was revealed, stabbing his screaming victims, you felt Roger’s eyes continually wander to you. First in flutters. Then in glances. Then in staring. You knew because everything you looked up briefly at him, his yellow head turned away.

Both of you sat still. Neither one asked the other for a drink or a snack or anything as the movie went on.

“You do look, really…really nice Y/N,” he complimented.

Your head flipped over. The breath in you stopped and you felt it suddenly flush back in, going a little dizzy.

“I mean, you’ve always looked nice and I swear, I never really…you just look especially nice tonight!” he clarified.

Smiling, you mumbled a thank you, while looking down at your lap.

As the movie went on, you both relaxed a little more. Your shoulders dipped down. A natural grin let up your face. You saw one on Roger as well.

Roger’s hand moved closer. Inch by inch. Then you felt it over yours.

Sweating, you accepted it. Although now the sudden threat of a masked serial killer that lurked in the night was nothing compared to your reality.

You scooted closer to Roger. He scooted closer in kind.He looked into your eyes. You looked in his.

“Roger…I…just…I just…” you blubbered, words running out before you could stop them.

“What is it?” he asked.

Now they dashed out as quick as the breaking of a dam.

“I’ve always liked you but…liked liked you- oh god, I must sound like a kid.”

“You don’t, you…you actually make perfect sense!” Roger answered, he began to chew his lower lip.

“What d’you mean?”

“I…I’ve loved you! It sounds ridiculous coming out of me- I am not a sap! I swear! I hate sappy things! But, but-but I’ve always wanted to just scream it from the top of some hill- I love you!” he confessed.

He put a hand against your face, gently caressing it. You leaned in closer to it, almost shivering from the sensation. Softly, Roger leaned forward too.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” he cursed right before tilting his head and kissed you.

It was wet and you could taste the chicken he ate and the strong tobacco from the smoking. He was so close, and so warm, with the smell of sweat and shampoo. You felt your hands go over his arm, pulling him closer.

You pulled away, and then you went in for another kiss, to make sure it was all real. His hands went to your back and pressed you against him closer. You were one mind and flesh for only a few seconds. Both of you pulled away briefly. There were a few soft chuckles released with a puff of released breath. He then pressed a forehead to yours. Your eyes closed for a second, feeling it, taking it all in. The two of you were breathing in unison, feeling that space between you that was desperate to be filled back again, to finally disappear.

Meanwhile outside, Freddie only leaned against a stoplight, barely looking at the window of the place. Brian and John stood by him, with their hands in their pockets. Seeing the light go out in Roger’s place, they all knew their job was done and they left to celebrate.

Taglist: @queenlover05 @stardust-killer-queen

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curiosity-killed · 4 years

Text

a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

Nerves tumble through him, all delighted energy racing in his veins in place of blood. His robes are new, a surprise from Wen Qing, Granny, and two of the aunties. Ink-dark clouds bloom over rich blue silk the color of the first bruising brush of night, a deep red robe rustling underneath. Running his fingertips down along the neat folds, he bites back a shaking smile. He’s going to meet his nephew. He’s going to see shijie and Jiang Cheng and he’s finally going to meet his first baby nephew. If excitement were an animal, his would be a hundred gilded canaries flocking and whirling behind his ribs. He’s inundated, suffused. Joy is such a vibrant rush that it blots out all else. Under the sun-white glow of it, he can think of little else but the excitement of the day. There is no room for his worries: whether the sects will ever let the Wens go in peace to a new home; how Uncle Four and Granny are going to get through the worst days of winter; what it means that the back of his hip keeps going funny lately, like the threads holding it in place are slowly unraveling. Sliding a small wooden box into his robes over his heart, he steps outside. Wen Qing’s waiting, clearly pretending she’s not by studying the lotus pond like it holds some secret message. By her side, Wen Ning holds a-Yuan on his lap, listening seriously as the boy chatters and waves one of his spinning toys through the air. Wen Qing straightens first. “How do I look?” Wei Wuxian asks with a grin.

Pursing her lips, Wen Qing studies him with a sharp eye and her hands on her hips. “Like a nuisance,” she says and reaches over to tug a strand of hair into place. “Hey!” Wei Wuxian yelps, only a little faked. Wen Qing pulls back to fold her hands at her waist. Her expression goes a little soft, the way it sometimes does when she looks over all of them gathered for dinner in the firelight. Wen Ning has stood and come to stand at her shoulder now, and he manages a tremulous smile. He’s worked hard over this year, to get back his emotions. He can’t blush or cry anymore, but he’s gotten the hang of inflection again, and he can pull up these little smiles. In another year or two, perhaps, he’ll be able to grin and laugh once more. “Behave for your sister,” Wen Qing says and holds out a small pouch of silver, “and pick out something nice for your nephew.” He can’t help the way his smile goes soft and a little sappy. Wen Qing looks skyward as if for patience, but before either can say more, there’s an insistent tug on his skirts. “Xian-gege,” a-Yuan says, frowning like a Yunmeng thunderstorm, “why do you have to go to the baby?” His voice is so petulant, so full of little kid frustration with the wide world. Wei Wuxian fights back a laugh. “Ah, a-Yuan, don’t you want to meet my shijie’s baby?” he asks. “He can be your little cousin a-Ling.” “Don’t want a little cousin,” a-Yuan pouts. “Xian-gege promised older brothers and sisters.” He pauses and tilts his head to look up at Wei Wuxian sideways through his lashes, rubbing his nose with one finger. It is a preposterous expression on a four-year-old face, and Wei Wuxian has to bite his lips to keep in his laughter. “Maybe we can sell him with the radishes?” His voice is so hopeful, the question so absurd — Wei Wuxian lets his laughter peal out of him and swoops down to scoop him up in his arms. His back twinges, briefly, but he ignores it. A-Yuan’s eyes brighten as if he thinks he’s getting his way. “A-Yuan, so cruel!” he scolds, delighted. “How could we sell my very first nephew?” “We could trade him,” a-Yuan suggests solemnly, “and plant a big brother instead.” It’s too cute; too much happiness is flooding him all at once, and Wei Wuxian squeezes him close even as he pinches his cheek. “Ai, truly the son of the dread Yiling laozu,” he teases before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “And so cute!” Shaking her head, Wen Qing tries to stifle a smile, but it’s still there in the corners of her mouth as she reaches out and plucks a-Yuan from his arms. He looks briefly disappointed, but he laughs in surprise when Wei Wuxian chucks his chin gently and ruffles his hair. “Go on,” Wen Qing says, nodding toward the path down the mountain. “You don’t want to be late.” Grinning, Wei Wuxian waves an idle goodbye as he starts down the trail with Wen Ning at his side. Granny and Auntie Three tell him to take care when they pass, and Uncle Six wishes them safe travels as he returns from gathering water. Wei Wuxian could nearly skip all the way to Lanling with the way joy bubbles effervescent in his veins, but he settles for spinning Chenqing between his fingers and humming along to a song he half-remembers from childhood. They’ve left with enough time to fly to and from Lanling twice with rest on either end, but then, Wei Wuxian’s not flying anywhere. Suibian sits propped on a shelf in his cave, where it’s lain since they arrived. He cleans the blade as he has to, out of respect to the spirit that still thrums through it and to the bond he once shared with the sword, but otherwise, he pretends he cannot see it lying there. He doesn’t regret it. There is no world in which he could ever wish he’d made another choice, but—

He’d told Wen Qing he understood the consequences. That he knew the risks and the weight of giving up his golden core. He would forever be mediocre, destined to live out a shorter life and to never fulfill the great dreams he’d had in his adolescence. Such broad declarations could not fathom the painful prick of everyday loss. He no longer reaches for spiritual energy that isn’t there, but sometimes he dreams, and he still knows that familiar river-rush song of power at his center. It still feels right, still feels like the song his soul has known since he was twelve and he felt a seed of something strong and glowing deep within him. He wakes bereft, empty-handed, hollowed. It’s not even the dreams he misses most — those grand heroics were always stories, and his home has been in Lotus Pier alongside his duty for most of his remembered life. It’s the little things, the things he had taken for granted: being able to help when someone was ill or injured, being able to soar up on Suibian and see the tumbling world splayed out before him. He will never regret his choice. If anything, he’s been proven right over and over in how Jiang Cheng has led Yunmeng Jiang through the war and into this new reconstruction. Lotus Pier needed its leader, and Jiang Cheng has always been destined for that mantle. So, no, he will never regret his decision. But, sometimes, he grieves. It’s a selfish sorrow, to lie with his hand flat on his chest in the night-quiet and feel the resounding hollowness echo through him. There’s still spiritual energy lingering in him, enough to power a talisman or a weak spell, but it diminishes day by day, eaten away by the resentment hooking claws into his bones. Guilt does its best to drown the grief. He has no right to feel sorrow for a sacrifice willingly made. If he does not regret the decision, what reason is there for hurt? He should just be able to set it aside and move forward, onward. He tries. It works most days. They stop in Yiling to pick up a token with the money Wen Qing sent, and Wei Wuxian eyes the whole supply, running his fingers along the jade, weighing the heft of them in his palm. It’s only adornment, a small trinket to accompany his real gift, but he wants it to be perfect, too. Outside, Wen Ning waits patiently. He’s dressed in his best as well, neat black robes that don’t mark him as any sect but are carefully pleated and tied. Wei Wuxian grins and holds out the tassel for examination. “What do you think?” he asks. “It is very pretty, Master Wei,” Wen Ning affirms. “Is this your gift for young Jin Rulan?” Wei Wuxian scoffs and reaches into the folds of his robe to pull out the lacquered box. As if he would give his nephew something so small as a tassel and say that was sufficient. He passes the box to Wen Ning, who cradles it in his hands like a bird’s egg. Wei Wuxian waits, trying carefully not to preen, as he lifts the lid to examine the gift. “It’s warded,” he blurts out anyway, because he’s never been very good at bottling up excitement. “Low level ghosts and monsters won’t be able to come near him as long as my nephew wears it.” “I can feel it,” Wen Ning says, his hand hovering carefully away from the beads. The bracelet has taken hours of work and planning, the kind of mental challenge that is at once exhilarating and exhausting; he loves the strain of it, the puzzle in how to determine the right characters and imbue it with the proper strength, but it also required more planning and detail work than comes naturally. He can’t count the number of times he checked and re-checked his work to make sure he didn’t miss something tiny and vital. Wen Ning moves to touch the bracelet, and panic flashes through Wei Wuxian as he half-lunges to stop him. “Ah don’t touch it!” he yelps. He manages to reign himself back in as Wen Ning stops short and turns to him with something like alarm. “I’m not sure what it’ll do.” He tries not to wince as he says it; he hadn’t wanted to point it out at all. Despite his placid face, Wen Ning’s shoulders stoop a little, and Wei Wuxian’s heart squeezes painfully. He shouldn’t have to worry about this, shouldn’t have to think about how he’s been made into a monster. It’s not his fault, not something he had any say in, and guilt sours deep in Wei Wuxian’s belly at the way that he still has to carry the burden even when it was forced upon him in the first place. “Come on,” Wei Wuxian says, clapping Wen Ning on the shoulder once the box is stowed once more. He gives a smile of reassurance, apology, and Wen Ning quirks up his lips in his own smile. “Of course, Wei-gongzi,” he says. It’s a long walk to Koi Tower. Wei Wuxian almost wishes they had chosen to split up the trip between two days, but it’s not like they would have been able to afford an inn and a bath if they had. He spends the walk teasing Wen Ning and chattering. Wen Ning’s still a little demure, but he’s gotten better at teasing and understanding when Wei Wuxian is joking over the year. It’s nice in a way few things are anymore; Wen Ning knows, like Wen Qing, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to pretend around him. He cradled Wei Wuxian’s head as his sister pulled out the thrumming golden core at his heart, kept his shoulders pinned to the ground as he screamed. He understands in a way shijie or Jiang Cheng or Lan Zhan never can. They have done terrible violence to each other for the sake of their siblings, and they can laugh and talk and tease in the sunlight. It’s the kind of light that falls through cracks in ancient ruins, that illuminates and softens the ragged edges of history. They plan to pause and rest on the far side of Qiongqi Pass, Wen Ning’s enforcement of his sister’s order. “It would make Lady Jiang upset if you overexerted yourself before the celebrations,” Wen Ning says. That is certainly not how Wen Qing phrased it. Wei Wuxian accepts it with only a little complaining, to keep up appearances. It can’t get out that he can be persuaded so easily after all; his reputation would never survive.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #untamed fic #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #my writing #and the sads being

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

Back-Seat Bliss

Warnings: SMUT. Language. 18+

Summary: Newly married, but still sitting on the secret, Chris warns you he’s going to slip the announcement into an interview on the carpet. You're of course, eager to shout to the world you’ve been crowned his wife, but you know the night will turn to an even bigger circus. Chris, the dutiful, dedicated man he is, takes it upon himself to settle your nerves...

These carpet premiere primps never got any less chaotic, and over-the-top. You’d walked the orange, the purple, the gold, the black, most often the red carpet, and yet the pit in your stomach was still wound like a sailors knot. There had been accidentally sheer skirts, overly teased up-dos, the occasional horrendous streak of botched spray tan, but one accessory remained the same. The classic, timeless, rustically tailored and put together man to your left. His ‘good side’, he’d say.

For the last 3 years, you had trailed yourself in front of the paparazzi at premieres, awards ceremonies, charity events all of such, dangling securely on the arm of Chris, your deemed A-list boyfriend who still burped at the kitchen table, and drank beer like a frat boy. You had learned all the poses, the half-smiles, the gazing into each other’s eyes to display the intimate look of a couple in love like the pair of you. Through the years, you’d become quite the regular on the carpets thanks to Chris and his continual rise up the latter of success. But, tonight, there’d be one difference. Your hair color the same, his driver the same. The chilling champagne in the sterling silver ice pale by the front door where you would toast before he helped you settle in the back of the stealthy, blacked out SUV, the same. Your last name?

Different.

The subtly of your intricate, delicate, thin wedding band had aided in disguising the whim decision the pair of you had concluded last weekend when you hired a minister to marry you on the balcony of your rented villa in Costa Rica. Your gorgeous engagment stone was no longer breaking news, and the public eye had, in its own little way, left you alone as of late.

But tonight, Chris had warned you he was planning to “let it slip” during an interview “whenever he felt like it.”

You were a touch fearful of the announcement breaking the surface, knowing the tailspin it would unleash for the rest of the evening. Every news outlet would beg and fawn for a photo, every journalist and TV personality requesting every detail of the nuptials. Maybe you’d sneak two glasses of that golden bubbly before the tornado set in.

“Fuck. You’d think I’d be used to you by now. But, damn it, Y/N.”

Chris was tying his shoe at the foot of the stairs, eyes to the floor on the black laces when the clack of your stiletto captured him. Your dress was a custom silk number that crawled to rest perfectly in every crevice of your warm skin. It’s girlish shade of rosy blush cut high up the line of your thigh, then gathered with intricate beads around your round, “child-bearing hips”, as Chris called them. Your bosom was accentuated by the lifting seams of the bodice, and you held no shame in making the request to the designer with your lovers’ lust-blown pupils in mind.

He pulled you in by the hand not securing your clutch, throwing it over his neck right where he wanted it, and palmed the luscious cheek of your silken covered bum. The pucker of his plush lips barely pecked the line of your jaw, mindful not to smear anything on your glorious face. Your tropical island induced tan was fresh on your skin, the bronze glittering with coconut scented body butter. Chris sniffed and inhaled into your hair as he tongue-kissed your exposed shoulder. His presence instantaneously soothed over your chattering reserve, but there was no doubt your observant husband would scope out the slight trembling.

“Hey, gorgeous. Talk to me, hm?” He searched your face, fiddling a moment with your earring.

“This is going to be a big night, Chris. You know I don’t necessarily like the unforgiving spotlight.”

He gathered your hand, palm down, in his, and kissed your knuckles. As he was about to dissipate your qualms with one of his very “Captain” like pep-talks, his assistant barreled in from the front steps.

“We need to be getting you guys on the road if that’s alright.” She meekly instructed.

You swigged a hearty gulp of the lavish liquor before you took your man’s arm to tiptoe down the cobblestone steps. His warm hand, so brazen yet unbelievably tender and considerate resting where the skin of your back blended into the cheeks of your bum was a cocktail of all things contented and zen, but your worried mind held on, ready to put up a fight.

Once you buckled yourself in with Chris’ assistance so you wouldn’t cause any creases in the expensive fabric, he leaned over the console to whisper something to the driver that you couldn’t make out over the thrums of the radio. When he settled back, silently a black partition slid up, separating the two of you from distraction.

“Where’s that gorgeous smile, baby? You shouldn’t be so tense about all this. It’s supposed to be a happy occasion, you know.”

He began peculiarly fretting with the clasp of your simple, strappy shoes, finally loosening their fasten and pulling your freed toes toward him. He rubbed over your already extremely sore ankle and heels, drawing little hearts and smiley-faces on the most ticklish bend of your arch.

“I know, I know. And I am happy. I’m thrilled to finally get to shout from the rooftops that I snagged such a catch as yourself. You just know how I get, Chris.”

He had somewhere between your words, slid off his jacket and hug it just-so over the headrest, and was know working his massaging fingers into the trim, but filled out flesh of your thigh.

“I do know how you get, angel. And I also know exactly how to make everything all better, as well, don’t I?”

He hummed as you spread the span of your thighs and bit, shifting a smidge to face him, and your belly began to heat with a white-hot simmer. With so much as a look, Chris could absolutely shatter your world with the most pleasurable, tantric high unlike any substance known to the world around you.

“I don’t think we have the space to exactly attempt that now, do we, Mr. Evans?” The zipper of your dress began to click and widen with the stress of your heavy breast heaving with short, reckless pants.

“I think I can definitely make do, Mrs. Evans. You know there isn’t a thing that can stop me when I get the urge to taste you.”

He was a man crazed when it came to you. His favorite flavor, he’d say. More times that you can count, you’ve had to nearly choke and stifle the life out of him by shoving his loud mouth between your globed chest because he insisted on taking you in the corner at a party, or in the restroom at a fitting, but couldn’t keep his howls under control. You’d nearly lost all your nerve for the taste of exhibitionism when his mother nearly stumbled in on the two of you in her kitchen last Christmas. You heard sweet Lisa telling everyone in the next room that she could almost swear she heard something like a bear growling in the back yard.

“Be a doll and hike this fantastic dress up those sweet fuckin’ thighs, will you?”

Oh, but he wasn’t asking. The shift in his voice now laced with a delicious heat, and the glorious bulge that you inadvertently gawked at making your belly growl with hunger, told you so.

Fiending for the calmness you knew would follow his gifted release, you raised just enough to settle the dress out from under you, revealing with pleasure the evidence of your bare core.

“Uh-oh! Seems I may have left something at home…” Your mock gasp, and squeaky dash of faux innocence make him smile. That satisfied, lustful sneer that made you want to punch him in the face, then sit in the same spot thereafter. It was vile, and cocky, and so incredibly your favorite smile in the entire world.

“Trust me, sweetheart. I knew there couldn’t possibly be a shred of anything under that dress the way it’s glued to this perfect ass.” You could already feel the half-mooned marks of his claws bruising into you as he used said ass to yank you into him.

The slick you had already worked up caught the waft of his hot breath as he nuzzled his face into you, and your legs shuddered. His defined nose, his pert lips, and his bristly chin daubed into the oversensitive slit. You knew all evening he’d have the tiniest remnants of your scent stained around his face as he greeted friends, and smiled for the photos, and it made you nearly come.

“Chris.” It was all you could conclude, and the only word that mattered in the English language to you in the very moment.

He pulled your blooming bulb in to his mouth by the teeth, then soothed the tiny sting with a flat swipe of his relaxed tongue. Thankfully, the tussled waves of ‘sex-hair’ was the ‘in’ look when it came to the latest beauty trends because the way you burrowed and rucked around trying to catch a view of him staring and sucking in the entrance of your cunt was definitely electrifying the static of your auburn curls. You loved the sensation of his wet licks, but watching him did so many throbbing things to your insides. His airy lashes would flutter forth & back between your face, and the bloom of your clit, and for added measure he would pull his own lip between his teeth.

“So fucking sweet, as always. I wish I could bottle you up, sweetheart. Have a little taste of you wherever I go.” You hissed and nearly took a bite out of your own tongue at his dirty words.

Amongst the nibbles and peppering of kisses to your clenching sex, he maneuvered a long finger inside to probe your leaking walls. His come-hither motions pulling and kneading at your deepest cavity had your legs twitching like something inside you was short circuiting, and crashing into his dutiful hands. Another finger. Then another…

You were stretched and prepped for the most satisfying and sensual fill that no one had ever given you the way your insatiable husband did. He was blessed, and quite equipped for all the perfect trappings to please the female race, and luckily, you just so happened to pin him down as your own.

“Give me one, love. Like this, please. Fill my mouth. Then, we’ll get to the good stuff, okay?”

“I’m so close, Chris. I can feel it so, so close.”

He interpreted your information as a challenge, and began working swift clicks with his mouth. He slurped and ravished like no sustenance on the planet could fulfil his cravings like your juices, rolling along the circle of your puckering peak. And before too long, he elicited the inevitable and blurred your vision with the fruits of his labor.

Thankful for smudge-proof lip stain, you stifled your own monstrous moans with the hot cover of your palm, coming down from orgasmic Mars as Chris popped the button of his pants.

“I’m not sure how we’re gonna swing this one, babe. There’s not exactly a lot of wiggle room with this dress.” You managed, voice barely the trace of a whisper.

“Don’t you worry, baby. Just sit back, and let your man do the rest. Got it?”

Giddy, you smiled and had to pull back the dopey drool of your mouth.

Chris let the waist of his pants fall slack, barely revealing the thickness of his standing shaft. His choice of attire for the evening was of course, in the family of classic black, and you couldn’t imagine him escaping this exchange without some lasting traces somewhere on his suit.

He situated a white-knuckle grab around the door handle just to the right of your head, and let the other fist wrap around your leg just above the knee. He was buckling in for what would be a predicted wild ride.

Just as you felt the seeping tip of his head toy with you, he dove in without reservation. This wouldn’t be the time, or place for a slow burn, and Chris knew just how much you could appreciate a ruthless, dirty quickie. You felt the car come to a halt slowly, and peered with side eyes just out the window to see a stoplight turned red. There was traffic as far as the eye could see, and in fact, a similar model vehicle right beside you in the next lane. You knew the shade of tint on your window was specifically designed for desertion, but still the titillating thrill egged you on.

Thrusting with his rhythm, matching every move, Chris began to undo between your legs. A sheen of dolloping sweat was now rolling between the crease of his brows, and a loose tassel of his perfectly combed hair had flattened to his forehead. From the waist up, he was poised with his perfectly knotted tie, and crisply steamed white oxford. Gentlemanly, posh for the cameras. But, below the tail of his shirt, he was rucking and pounding inside of you like an ill-mannered fiend.

“My pretty girl. You seem awfully relaxed now, hm?”

“More. I need more, baby. Let me feel you lose yourself inside me.”

When his blue-flamed eyes screwed closed, you knew his own ending was in sight. You yanked him in by the tie, longing to work his mouth with yours. Then suddenly, a stop. You heard voices chattering, a random erupt or claps here and there, and you gathered the two of you had arrived.

You imagined the frame of the car had to be rocking a bit when it parked near the rear curb of the entrance, but it wouldn’t stop Chris from finishing what he started, and ensuring his girl was free of worries for the evening.

With his tongue rolling with yours, mouths roaming each other, Chris jolted once more, and his cock twitched inside you. There’d be nothing to catch his seed from surfacing to trail down your legs once you stepped into the sea of cameras, but it gave you salacious pleasure regardless.

As if Tucker, his longtime driver and bodyguard, had known exactly what was unfolding in the back seat, he stood post just outside your rear door, assuring no one opened it and caught a glimpse of an R-rated body part. Using the compact inside your clutch, you reapplied a layer of gloss, and Chris dabbed away the simple beads of perspiration on the tip of your nose after securing his pants. Giving each other a cautious, engaged once over for smears, or wrinkles and stains, you clasped his cheek before letting him open the door to the world.

“I feel much, much better. Thank you, handsome.”

His head leaned into your tender touch, nuzzling. “No need for thanks, angel. Now, can I please get out of this fucking car and tell someone besides my Ma that this amazing, flawless, astounding human is my wife?!”

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

#Chris Evans #chrisevans #chris evans fanfiction #chrisevansfanfic #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x female reader #chris evans imagine

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otterbeesfanficblog · 4 years

Text

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

A/n: The hero costume in this chapter was designed and drawn by me, please don't try and steal it or post it anywhere, it is for this story only. This one is also a lot longer then the other ones as well so... buckle up, little bitches. (Just kidding, I love you all, please don’t hate me ಥAಥ)

Edit: I JUST FUCKIN' REALIZED I'VE BEEN SPELLING BAKUGO'S NAME WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME!!! I HATE MYSELF!!!

Part 4:From Where We Stand

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 3: Compare And Contrast Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

Though it hurt your pride a little, you timidly asked Kirishima to explain how the rest of the school day was going to work. He didn't at all hesitate to tell you, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido did wounder and ask why you seemed to be so unknowing of what school was like.

You quickly came to the excuse that you were home-schooled, Kirishima backed it up by saying that you had told him you moved around a lot so it was obvious you took school online. You were thankful that he actually thought you went to school and had a house... or parents.

In the morning was English with Present Mic, which was pretty entertaining and you were actually liking it a lot. Everyone around you seemed bored and uninterested, but you continued to pay close attention.

You had gone to lunch with Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido, and you were blown away by how much food they had. You felt your stomach growl and churn in hunger, but as you looked at the prices, you knew you weren't going to be eating any of this good looking food.

"Are you Ms. Uchukyuzo?"

You and your group of new friends turn to see the chef Lunch Rush who had been serving meals to everyone, everyone but you. He had appeared before any of your friends could ask why you didn't have food.

"Uh, yeah, that's me."

Before you could really wounder too long, he handed you a tray full of food which made your mouth water at the mere sight let alone the amazing smell.

"I was told you might have some confusion during lunch here at U.A. but have no fear, I won't let anyone go hungry!"

He then walked off as you stared at the tray of food in your hands, your group had already sat down at a table and began eating. Kaminari was already eating and scrolling through his phone, Ashido and Sero were talking to each other but were also watching you, and Kirishima reached across the table to tap you on the head since you were just starting at the food with your head down.

"You okay--??"

"THANK YOU FOR THIS FOOD!!"

You clap your hands together, tightly shutting your eyes to stop the tears from coming out as you quickly dug into your food. The group around you laughed, thinking you were just excited about how good the food looks, not at all thinking that this was the only food you had been given to eat in the last two days since your stockpile of food had been emptied and you hadn't had time to get more.

Little did you know, a few teachers had been watching you as you went threw school, taking note of how you went about your day. Your over excitement for food was written down, they needed more proof before they could really do anything about your life outside of school.

Then it was the afternoon which meant another class, Hero Basic Training.

"I am..."

Your whole class turns towards the door as it rushed open, and leaning into the room was the one hero you hoped to never see again.

"... Coming through the door like a normal person!"

The whole class seemed to the excited to see him, which made you want to explode. You glared down at the desk in front of you seething, if only they knew what he did to you. They all praised him and his dumbass costume, his dumb smile and his dumb hair with his dumb---

"I teach Hero Basic Training." All Might spoke out, making you glare up at him. You wanted to scream in his face and explode that stupid cape right off his back. "It is a subject where you train in different ways to learn the basics of being a hero. You'll take the most units of this subject!"

"Great..." You groan out softly, crossing your arms and glaring off to the side. Unbeknownst to you, a certain ruby eyed boy heard and saw you're shift in attitude.

"Let's get right into it! This is what we'll do today--" He flexed, which you pretend to gag at, then holds up a card that says "BATTLE" in bold letters. "Combat training!"

"Combat..." You shift a little, glancing back at Bakugo who had an evil look on his face.

"... training." Midoriya finished, looking fearful which you didn't blame him.

"And to go with that are these!" He then waved to the wall next to him, which began opened up to cases with numbers on them. "Costumes made based on your Quirk registrations and requests you sent in before school started."

You joined everyone's excitement after that, you were excited to see your costume. Nezu had asked you specifically when you had your meeting after getting your acceptance letter, he had even suggested things to make your costume better.

"After you change, gather in Ground Beta!"

"Yes, sir!"

It didn't take you all long to get into your costumes, though getting dressed with the other girls was a little awkward. Putting on your costume though and looking in the mirror, you couldn't stop the smile that traveled to your face.

You may hate the teacher teaching you for this class, and you may not be as good as the rest of them, but damn...

You looked good.

____ Break in the story to explain the costume design___

If you don't want to read this you can skip this and continue reading, if you would like to read, buckle up its a lot.

So let's start with what the costume is made out of.

Because R's (Reader) quirk is based on explosions it is made out of heat resistant fabric, and woven into it is carbon fiber to keep it strong, light, and it also allows R to absorb light along with pressures. This is what the whole costume is made out of. Along with the ami-flex carbon fiber weave is a glossy star-like light cover to it all, making it better at collecting light.

Speaking of reflective, that takes us to the galaxy colored parts of the costume.

These parts are made thinner and more reflective than the darker parts of the costume, the darker parts of the costume are more meant to take strong hits without causing damage to the body, the galaxy parts are for light, sound, and wind absorption. The galaxy cloth is made to be sensitive to all movements, so as it moves like a skirt or like thin silk, it is taking in energy and distributing it to R.

As it is pretty obvious why it is placed as an overlay skirt, pant legs, and shoulder cloths, you might wonder why it is positioned like a mask over the face. Well, this is for when R speaks, she would be collected the sound vibrations and heat from her mouth and nose, channeling it back into energy.

The balls and heels of the feet are free for a few reasons. When we walk, a lot of the pressure goes from the heel to the ball of our foot (Which can be debated for those who have flat arches on their feet). Now, this would make you think that if you feel more motion in your feet with your heel and ball, why not put something there to help absorb that? Well, this is going based on R's back story.

One of the most prominent reasons being that as R grew up, she couldn't simply go out and buy shoes. This is assuming R only had a few if not one pair of shoes, and in the end just opted to not wearing shoes and simply wrapping a cloth around her feet instead. Another reason is that R's way of collecting energy growing up was mostly through vibrations and gaining potential energy from the ground or from impacts to her body, meaning that most of her energy came from walking. Lastly, R was not the most... well-behaved child and often had to run from or fight people in her life. And her best way of getting energy to fight or flee with? Her feet.

Lastly, the mask. If you couldn't tell already, it resembles our explosive boy Bakugo. Now, at first, it was only a cute little call out to match with the firecracker, but I then came up with a reason as to why she has them.

If you have ever seen an owl, they have curved faces that allow sound to travel at them and curve into their ears to make for hearing things clearer. Try it, cup your hands by your ears, and see the difference it makes in sound. For this reason, R wears these to collect sound waves at a better rate than she ever had before.

Before this costume, most of her potential energy came from movements, now she has things to amplify the way she takes in energy.

This was the explanation for her suit, if any of you have questions, comments, or want to know more about the reader's quirk or her past, let me know! I love writing things like this, it's fun and I love hearing feedback.

____You can continue reading the story from here____

After you all made your way out and into Ground Beta, you had a few moments to talk amongst yourself. You saw the girl from before, Uraraka you believe her name was?, going over to Midoriya and complimenting his suit.

His was simple, and despite it being green, you could tell without a doubt it was based on All Might himself.

"... To each there own." You say, shrugging it off. You may not like All Might, but you weren't going to hate on anyone who did. They all just saw him in a different like than you, even if for you that light wasn't even on.

"Y/n!"

You turn to the sound of your name, smiling as you see Kirishima walking over to you. His costume looked pretty badass, the red complimenting his hair and the rugged look to it made it seem like he had been wearing that for forever.

"Hey, Kiri. Your mask makes you look like a dragon or something."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head and looking off to the side.

"Dragons are pretty manly, but that's not why I came over here." He then looked you up and down, gesturing to your suit with his hands. "Look at you! You look like you came from outer space, like a space goddess or something!"

You felt heat rise to your face as you tried to cover up the shy smile that made it's way to your face, you crossed your arms and looked away from him.

"S-shut up, your sappy words are gonna make me vom."

He laughed at this and you smiled back at him, laughing along with him. Suddenly it felt like you were being hardcore started at and seeing as Kirishima had turned away to talk with Kaminari and Sero, you looked around at your other classmates.

You then caught the eyes of a certain explosive boy, who was glaring at you from across the away. You felt a smile grace your face as you looked around you then back to him, shrugging your shoulders in a "What are you looking at" way. He rolled his eyes and face forward which made you scuff a laugh, looking forward as well ready for class to start.

"Now, it's time for combat training!"

"Sir!" Glasses boy, who you still didn't know the name of and was in a full suit of armor, raised his hand to speak. "This is a battle center from the entrance exam, so will we be conducting urban battles again?"

"No, we're going to move ahead two steps!" All Might replied, holding up to fingers. "Most of the time, fighting villains takes place outside, but if you look at the total numbers, atrocious villains appear indoors at a higher rate."

Unfortunately, you knew how high those numbers were from experience.

"Imprisonment, house arrest, backroom deals-- In this society filled with heroes, truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows!"

You let your eyes drift around the class, watching as they all hung onto his words.

'truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows...' You thought back to were you live now and how you had found that place. '... Not anymore.'

"For this class, you'll be split into villains and heroes and fight 2-on-2 indoor battles."

"Without basic training?" A girl with long green hair tied into a bow asked, but you were thinking about something else that didn't add up.

"This is a real battle to understand those basics! However, the key this time is that there's no robot you can just beat up."

You raised your hand slightly.

"Uhm, but--"

"How will wins and losses be determined?" A girl in a ponytail spoke up louder than you.

"Can we beat them up anyway?" Bakugo was next to ask a question and since there didn't seem to be any order, you tried calling out again.

"Uh-"

"Will the punishment be expulsion like with Mr. Aizawa?" Uraraka cut in.

"How shall we be split up?" Glasses boy raised his hand, this way you saw your chance.

"Speaking of splitting up, how---"

"Isn't this cape crazy?" A boy with long red-tinted wing glasses spoke over you, and you felt your skin growing warm and your body started to grow.

You were losing your patience from being interrupted and Kirishima and Kaminari who stood on either side of you looked at you with a sort of empathy, Kaminari however took a few steps away from you and Kirishima hardened the skin that was closest to you.

Just in case.

All Might seemed overwhelmed with the number of questions, which you would have found funny if you weren't 4 seconds away from blowing up everyone.

"I'll answer all your questions!"

He then pulled out a small booklet, well in looked small in his hands, and opened it up and began to read from it.

"Now, listen here. The situation is that the villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hideout. The heroes are trying to dispose of that. The heroes need to catch the villains or get the nuclear weapon back in the allotted time. The villains need to protect the nuclear weapon for the whole time or catch the heroes."

"The situation feels very American!" Midoriya said in a gushing tone, but you were in no mood for anyone else bullshit.

"Teams and opponents will be determined by drawing lots!" All Might then held up a box that said 'Lots' on the side. You felt your blood boil as no one seemed to realize the biggest problem here.

"They're being decided so haphazardly?" Glasses boy asked, to which Midoriya answered.

"Pros often have to create makeshift teams with heroes from other agencies, so maybe that's why?"

"I see. The discernment to look ahead..." Glasses boy then bowed to All Might. "Please excuse my rudeness!"

"Uh... Y/n?" Kirishima asked timidly next to you, holding up his hands as he watched you shake and glow in pure rage with your eyes tightly shut and your jaw clenched tight enough to break steel. "Are you... okay?"

All Might turned away from the class and raised an arm.

"It's fine. Let's do this quickly!"

That was it, that was your snapping point. Suddenly everyone felt a heatwave come from you and they all backed up as you burst into light and screamed, stars falling around you as you glared at your "teacher".

"CAN I ASK ONE GOD DAMN QUESTION BEFORE ANYONE FUCKIN' INTERRUPT ME AGAIN?!"

Everyone around you went dead silent, looking at you in slight fear and worry as the light from your body dimed, and the heat coming from you slowly disappeared. All Might turned around and looked at you in shock, he'd seen and been around some pretty... loud students, but you were certainly someone to look at.

You growled at the attention and rubbed a hand over you're eyes.

"Thank you! Fuck!..." You glare at All Might and gesture to the class with your hand's wideout, giving the man as much attitude as possible which made your classmates look at you in shock and awe.

"How the fuck are we supposed to go 2v2 if there's 21 of us?" You finally asked, dropping your arms and looking around at everyone. "Am I the only one that noticed there's an odd number of us, we can't go 2v2 without leaving someone out."

You let a huge sigh go from your chest, a cloud of smoky stardust left your mouth as you crossed your arms and waited for an answer. Everyone stared at you, some looked at you like you were crazy, some in fear, some thought you were far too angry for no reason, and a few thought of you as a badass.

Bakugo was thinking you had balls of pure steel, you not only yell at a teacher but swore at him too. And he was the number one hero in Japan, and you just yelled and swore at him like it was just some guy you met on the street.

His respect for you immediately went up.

"Well.." All Might was definitely thrown for a loop, he definitely was not ready to be yelled at by a 15-year-old. "Since you pointed it out, you will be in the first round--"

"To get the 3-on-2 over with?" You question while raising a brow at him, you roll your eyes and pop your hip to one side. "Marvelous..."

All Might was not expecting there to be someone ... like you in the class, from what he saw that morning, none of the kids were being disrespectful to Aizawa. He wanted to believe it was because the students were respectful, and not that they were scared of the erasure hero which was most likely the case.

But looking at you in the eyes, he saw blatant hate and distrust in your eyes, you weren't even trying to hide how much you didn't like him. All Might had come across hate many a time in his life, it came with being number one, but this one was definitely different.

It was one he would expect... from a Villian he had beaten. But... you were just a kid. He'd never met you before... at least, he doesn't think he has.

"W-well, let's begin then!"

-----

Pulling lots you were placed on the hero team A with Midoriya and Uraraka (which was definitely her name), and going against you was Bakugo and glasses boy (who you were told his name was Iida so... there's that).

All Might explained that the villains had five minutes to prepare and get into their roles, and if it went too far he would stop the fight. You leaned on the building as you, Midoriya, and Uraraka waited for it all to start and started memorizing the building layout.

"It's a lot of work to memorize the building's floor plan," Uraraka said, then looked up at the building. "But All Might is just the same as when he's on TV."

Her statement made you roll your eyes because you knew for a fact that he wasn't all smiles and good heroics. Heros don't leave a child behind...

"Unlike Mr. Aizawa, it looks like there's no punishment," She then looked to you with a smile then over to Midoriya. "so we can relax and-- You're not relaxed at all!"

You turn to look at Midoriya, who did in fact look like he was gonna pass out. You put the paper in your hand away and walked to stand in front of him while he explained.

"Well, it's because... we're up against Kacchan... And there's Iida, too, so I feel like I need to be on guard..."

You nod and cross your arms, Uraraka speaking up while looking at him.

"I see. Bakugo's the one who makes fun of you, right?"

Midoriya's once stiff posture went lax and he looked down at the ground.

"He's amazing. He's a piece of work, but his goal, his confidence, his physical strength, and his quirk. are way more amazing than mine."

You took a few steps back as he stood up facing you then the building, putting his mask on in the process.

"But that's why right now... I don't want... to lose..."

You looked at him for a moment, seeing his concentration then turned to Uraraka who was smiling at him.

"A fated battle between men, huh?"

You felt yourself chuckle a bit at her comment, Midoriya sweating and holding up his hands to her.

"Oh, sorry, this isn't either of your problems, Uraraka, Uchukyuzo."

You roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips.

"Just Y/n is fine, Midoriya. Besides, it is our problem. We're all on a team, right? Unless that changed when I wasn't looking."

You give a tiny smile, Uraraka quickly nodding her head at your words.

"She's right! We're a team." She then threw one of her hands into the air. "Let's do our best!"

You watched Midoriya smile and nod at her, and you had to hold back on ruining the moment since they were acting cute. You weren't the kind of person who was open about feelings, most of it was covered up by humor or small actions.

Because of a certain someone among other people, words didn't really mean anything to you anymore.

"Now, let's start the indoor person-to-person combat training with Team A and Team D!"

You, Uraraka, and Midoriya looked up at the building hearing All Might's voice, then you all gave each other a solid nod. Midoriya lead you and Uraraka to an open window of the building, before he could go in you waved him to the side.

"Let me go first," You then jumped up, looking down the hall in front of you then to the side before jumping inside. You allowed Midoriya and Uraraka to come in after you, Midoriya looking to you with a raised brow.

"Why did you want to go first?" He whispered.

"Because I'm the only one in this group that can take a hit and use that to my advantage."

Midoriya seemed to have an ah-ha moment and mumbled something about a notebook.

"We've infiltrated successfully!" Uraraka states, which you nod then look to Midoriya. He began walking down the hallway your guys' left.

"There are a lot of blind spots, so let's be careful."

"More reason I should be in front." You told him, and he was hesitant since you were his teammate, not a meat shield, but from your intense stare which made him sweat a little, he settled into the spot between you and Uraraka with you leading and him telling you where to go.

With every corner you checked, you nod to him and allow him to point where you will go next. All of you were on high alert, but you felt as if you were even more so. Not only were you paying attention to every little vibration that came from the ground beneath your feet, but the curved part of your mask behind your ears also made you far more aware of the noises around you, including the irritating noise of Uraraka's heels.

Coming to another corner you stopped the group, looking both ways, then nodding to Midoriya who motioned for you to turn down the hall on your right.

Halfway through the hallway, however, you stopped the group with ears perked and wide eyes. Before Midoriya could ask what it was, you all saw Bakugo fly out of the corner. Clearly he was expecting Midoriya to be in front, but that didn't stop him from screaming out and aiming past you and to Midoriya's head. You pushed Midoriya and Uraraka out of the way, getting grazed in the back by Bakugo's explosion.

You landed on your knees in front of them but quickly turned and shielded them both, looking back with a quick glance as Midoriya and Uraraka checked if the other was okay. You curse under your breath, seeing half of Midoriya's mask blown off meaning you didn't protect him enough for him not to at least have gotten a scratch.

In the midst of the smoke, Bakugo threw out his hand to dissipate the smoke faster, glaring over your shoulder at Midoriya.

"Come Deku, don't dodge and hide behind her."

Still kneeling on the ground next to Uraraka, Midoriya glared over your shoulder back at Bakugo.

"I figured you'd come for me first." He then stood and took steps to be next to you, you slightly more in front of him than he would have liked.

You may get these two have some kind of rivalry but you'd be damned if you were to lose because you didn't protect your team. You watched as Bakugo charged you and Midoriya, hands ready to blow.

"I won't do so much damage that this fight gets stopped, but I'm gonna get close!"

You stood ready for the attack that he leads with his right arm, but suddenly you were pulled back and pushed down to the ground behind you by Midoriya. You glared at him as he grabbed Bakugo, flipping him over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground, all while Uraraka gushed about him.

You moved back when he slammed Bakugo on the ground, standing to your feet and glaring at Midoriya. You clenched your jaw and fists tightly, but he ignored you and Uraraka completely for Bakugo, who slowly got up from the ground.

"Kacchan... You usually start with a big right swing. How much do you think I've been watching you?"

Both you and Bakugo were no glaring at the green-haired boy as he continued.

"I wrote an analysis for all the heroes I thought were amazing in my notebook. In the notebook you blew up and threw away." He then looked up and held a strong stare at Bakugo. "My "Deku" isn't always going to mean "useless"! Kacchan, my "Deku" means "You can do it"!"

You glare and roll your eyes at them both as Bakugo stood to his feet and faced away from you and Uraraka for 'Deku' instead.

"Deku... Even though you're scared... That's what I hate about you!"

"Oh boo-hoo!" You scream at them, glaring specifically at Midoriya. Both boys looked at you, Midoriya in confusion and Bakugo in irritation. You weren't his target after all.

"So you guys have so bullshit rival dick measuring contest, good for you! That doesn't give you the right to push away your teammate!!" You point your finger at Midoriya, who looked at you in guilt as you said this.

Just as you did, Bakugo touched something on his ear and grumbled out.

"Just shut up and defend. I'm really angry right now!"

You were still glaring at Midoriya as Bakugo threw his arms out and got ready to fight again, Midoriya looking on and then yelling to you and Uraraka.

"Uraraka, Y/n, go!"

You stood still as Uraraka made a bolt down the hall, you growled at the green-haired boy.

"You want your whole team to leave you!?"

"Looking away? You must be sure of yourself." Bakugo said, just barely being blocked by Midoriya who was pulling out the capture tape. Bakugo threw another blow at him, making him duck and dash out of the way, all while he looked to you.

"Just go!"

You clench your fists, letting your head drop before facing the ceiling and screaming at the top of your lungs. It made Bakugo briefly look your way before turning back to his real target, Midoriya just prayed that if he survived this training, he would survive what came after when you looked back at him with a look that made him frankly more scared of you than his childhood friend fighting him.

Little did you know, your eyes were no longer white with your natural colored irises. No, now they were glossed over with what can only be described as the dust cloud of a galaxy. Stardust like puffs of air came from your mouth as you heaved and glared at him from across the way.

You said nothing but gave him a look that said you and he will talk later, then turned around and ran after Uraraka. Turning a corner, you quickly reacted by grabbing her shoulders and spinning as to not knock you both over.

She had been waiting for you around the corner, and though you were pissed as fuck at Midoriya you were glad she waited. You and she ran through the building, quietly at first, but then she felt the need to talk to you.

"Y/n?"

"What."

"I know what Deku did earlier made you upset but--"

"I'm not upset." You growled, still running beside her as you gripped the top of your head tightly. "I'm fuckin' pissed!! We are a goddamn team and he decides now is the best time to catch up on a childhood rivalry?!"

Uraraka watched as stardust came of you like a waterfall, she would have found it pretty if it weren't so hot running next to you.

"He has a plan, I'm sure!" She said somewhat confidently.

"Whatever the fuck is going on in his head is not our problem now," You growl as you both make your way up to a higher part in the building. "We are up against that one fast kid, right?"

You both began to slow down, now on a higher level, you both realized it would be best to stealth now. She nods at you, standing behind you as you lead the way for you both.

"His name is Iida."

"Right, sure." You waved off. "He's fast, which means he's mobile. Luckily for us, as of right now because of someone... we still have a slight upper hand 2-to-1."

You stopped both of you in the hallway, Uraraka looking at you with confusion. You calmed down so you looked back to normal, but she still had to hold herself back from gushing about how cool you were to her.

"And your quirk is...." You trail off to let her finish, seeing as the only thing of her quick you've seen is from the test you guys took this morning.

"Gravity!" She quickly answered, showing you her hands that had little pads on each of her fingers like the paw of a puppy or a kitten. "I can make things float then release them."

You nod.

"That's useful."

You turn back and motion for her to follow.

It didn't take you both long to find where they were holding the 'weapon', you were hidden behind a pillar with her. She turned ready to talk to Midoriya through the earpieces they had, you opted out of wearing one as it would make it hard for you to absorb natural sounds for your quirk.

You both stopped as the Iida boy started talking to himself.

"Bakugo is a natural at being bad, but that fits this training perfectly. Then I must also devote myself to being a villain. That's right. This is another trial to turn me into a man who will not bring shame to the Iida family. Become a villain! Be dyed with evil in order to become a hero!"

All you could do was raise your brow in confusion, slightly feeling as if you nor Uraraka were supposed to see this rant of his.

"I am..." He turned the way you guys were, and 'evil' look in his eye. "... extremely evil!"

Uraraka sputtered next to you loudly, making you turn her way and shake your head. As... weird and funny as what just occurred was, she just blew both of your guys' covers.

"Have you arrived, Uraraka, Uchukyuzo?"

For some reason she seemed shocked you were both found, walking out into the open so he could see her. You rolled your eyes and did the same, standing slightly more in front of her to protect her.

He then dramatically pointed at you both.

"I knew you, Uraraka, would come here the instant Bakugo ran off by himself. Uchukyuzo, I was sure you would fight Bakugo but no matter. Uraraka, your quirk allows you to make the object you touch float. That is why I put away all the things on this floor before you arrived."

Looking around, you then just realized how spotless the floor was and was kinda impressed.

"Now you cannot play your little tricks! You have blundered, heroes!" He then laughed like... well, a villain.

"He's starting to look... Like a villain...!" Uraraka whispered to you, you gave her an irritated look from over your shoulder.

"Who cares? Contact Midoriya and tell him what's going on, I'll protect you." You then positioned yourself fully in front of her to block Iida's view from her as she quietly spoke to Midoriya. You prepared yourself in a fighting stance as you watch Iida slowly make his way to you, you weren't sure if he actually knew what your quirk was or not, but you were determined to protect Uraraka and win this training.

Suddenly, you all felt the whole building shake violently. You began to feel a giddy feeling in your chest with how much energy you'd collected but not used, you knew as your skin started to feel warmer that you wouldn't be able to hold it all for too long.

You turned to look at Uraraka as Iida contacted Bakugo.

"You alright?"

She shakily nods her head.

"What was that...? You don't think..."

"Bakugo, answer me! Did you do that? What in the world did you do?"

You and Uraraka looked to each other and nod, this was your chance. She ran head-on while you hid behind a pillar, if Iida goes after her, you'll have a chance to grab the weapon and win.

You ran to another pillar as Uraraka jumped over Iida using her Quirk on herself, quickly you hid behind another pillar.

"Release!"

You heard a clicking sound before suddenly the weapon was moved out of her way, causing her to scream while she fell to the floor, rolling and hitting the back wall upside-down. You, still hidden away from Iida's sight, curled the overlay part of your costume around you to hid better as you listened to him speak.

"Your quirk is not a threat if you cannot touch anything. I'll hold out until time runs out!" He then starts laughing and you watch Uraraka sit up and glare over her shoulder at him, you still staying hidden.

You prayed for her not to expose you to his sight or let him have any hint you were still there, if you could, you could catch him off guard and grab the weapon from behind him while Uraraka distracted him from the front.

How you were going to communicate that with her was still coming to your head, but looking back at her you saw her quietly talking. You realized she was talking to Midoriya, but you didn't have an earpiece and were too far away for her to tell you the plan.

If you got too close to her, your spot would be outted. If you stayed where you were, you couldn't tell her your plan nor could you know what she and Midoriya were planing.

It was like...

You suddenly felt like you couldn't breathe, as if every part of you was being suffocated and pressed down around you...

They... forgot about you...

Looking out from behind the pillar, you watch as Uraraka stared down Iida, and Iida didn't know you were there. Leaning back on the pillar facing away from them both, you grabbed at your chest desperately trying to grab air and breathe. You felt a sting in your eyes and you covered your mouth as you felt like screaming and vomiting at the same time.

Flashes of what happened so many years ago came to your mind... Years of waiting and waiting for a hero to save you, to come for you like he said he would... like he promised he would.

He forgot... he looked you in the eyes and he forgot... he promised and he--

"Okay!"

Your already wide eyes grow wider as you heard Uraraka speak, and without even thinking you ran out into the middle of the room. You needed to remember you weren't actually alone right now, that there were other people around.

You needed it...

"Y/N! MO-"

You looked down as the floor cracked around your feet, then with a suddenness, you couldn't even begin to describe, you felt your self get barrier under debris.

... Or maybe crushed?

Your sense of direction was no longer intact as everything around you hurt, you felt a horrible pain in your back before everything went black.

---------

The class of 1-A stood in awe and horror of the monitors in front of them, of what they had just witnessed of their classmates.

"Hero..." All Might said into the mic held tightly in his grasp. "Hero team...... wins!"

Even as he says this, the teens around him stare at the screens that showed Iida tending to Uraraka who was reeling and nauseous. And Midoriya, who laid past out on the floor in front of Bakugo who was too stunt to move.

"What the heck?" Kaminari spoke through the silence of the class. "The losers are practically uninjured, and the winners are on the ground..."

"They lost the battle, but won the war, huh?" Tokoyami, the boy cloaked in black with the head of a dark bird spoke next.

"This is training, though." Asui was next to speak solely, but they were all silent as the next boy to speak screamed.

"Where's Y/n!?" It was Kirishima, the boy who became quick friends to the star-like girl. The camera feed that was tracking her was not long in use, only showing static of black and white.

Kirishima watched her attitude change towards the climax of the battle, the way her body shook, and the vacancy in her eyes made his heart drop in worry and he wondered what it was that made her change. What was it that made her run into the thick of the battle without looking back?

She was crying, and as a man, he couldn't let a girl cry and not help. He couldn't let his friend cry and not help.

He screamed again at his teacher again who was searching the cams for the student who yelled at him with an anger that rivaled a villain, the student that was hit full force unknowingly with All Of One.

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

"Kirishima..." He felt another one of his new friends, Sero, place a hand on his shoulder, but he was in no mood for comfort.

He wanted to know that he didn't just watch his friend die.

Suddenly, the static cam focused. It was the camera that was placed on her person as the other students had in case the cams in the building couldn't find them.

The cam glitched every now and then and it was dark, with only cracks of light showing through. Then, ever so slowly, the light came full-on.

In the frame was a shaking, bruised, and bloodied hand, that reached for the light which turned out to be the ever clear sky.

The students watched in horror a the camera switched to one that was placed on the roof.

Under copious amounts of rubble and debris was their galaxy covered classmate, bloodied and broken and clawing her way out of the mess she was buried under. The blood that leaked from her frame was a mix of deep red and a glittering star pattern, almost like the ink from a red pen dipped into the white speckled dots of the night sky.

Not being able to stare any longer, Kirishima pushed some classmates out of the way and slamming his way out the door. He ran as fast as he possibly could, ignoring his teacher's cries from him to stay in the room.

He wasn't going to sit back and watch his friend struggle for life on her first day of school, the first day of her real school. As far as he knew, she was a girl who moved too much and was home-schooled, being she most likely didn't have many friends. Kirishima was going to be the best damn friend she ever had, meaning he would protect her as she had him when they first met.

-------

After everyone finished their tests, they gathered in front of the exit in front of their teacher.

"Good work everyone! We didn't have any major injuries other than Young Midoriya and Young Uchukyuzo, either! You guys took this on seriously! You all did a good job for your first training!"

Asui raised her hand to speak.

"To have such a proper class after Mr. Aizawa's class... It's kind of anticlimactic..."

All the students feel the same, a group of them nodding in agreement to her statement. Despite this, All Might did his best to keep an upbeat attitude.

"We're free to have proper classes, as well! Well then, I must review the results with Young Mirdoriya and Young Uchukyuzo! Change and return... to the classroom!"

Without much time left, All Might made his quick escape, leaving all the students baffled at his exit.

If only he was telling the truth... about our girl in the stars...

-----

Because of the overabundance of power you gained from the blast that hit you, Recovery Girl was able to heal you all the way, with you feeling just tired enough for a nap. You told her you were fine to leave many times, but she almost hit you when you tried to leave and told you to rest at least a little bit longer.

She realized that the stamina she used to heal you was actually the energy you had stored away, she was glad to know you wouldn't have to heal slowly as Midoriya would. You laid in a bed next to his behind a curtain, you had slept enough and felt fine, but you knew she would just get on you again if you tried to leave so you pretend to sleep while she cared for Midoriya on the other side of the curtain.

Besides, the bed was actually comfy as fuck.

You heard someone come in, you weren't sure who it was but you kept as quiet and still as possible, almost pretending you were dead... or close to it so you could eavesdrop.

"The school year has just begun, and he's already been in here three times!" You heard recovery girl scold whoever it was that was in the room with you, feeling a slight stinging in your heart and eyes as she didn't even mention you at all.

"Why didn't you stop him, All Might?"

You flinched, then opened your eyes wide, slowly turning your head as to not make noise. The curtain was in the way so you couldn't see much, but the shadow of the figure was not at all the height of All Might nor as muscular as him.

Could... she be wrong? She was old... but she didn't seem the type to be wrong about who she was talking to... But... that... can't be All Might...

Right?

"I apologize, Recovery Girl." His voice was deep and sounded like a calmer version of All Might...

Was this really All Might?

Like the ninja and forgotten child you were, you slowly made your way off the bed, silently glad you didn't change out of your hero costume and stay on the balls of your bare feet.

You made sure not to push or move the certain as you carefully look past them to see who was there, you hear beating quickly in your ears at the need to stay quiet.

"What are you apologizing to me for?"

Your eyes go as wide as saucers when you see that oh so familiar red, yellow, and blue costume. He was skinny as hell and his face was sunken in, his blonde hair was a mess with two long strands framing his skinny face. And the eyes.

You saw Recovery Girl move in the corner of your eye and quickly moved back behind the curtain, successfully doing so without causing a draft to move the curtain.

"On top of his total exhaustion, he was here just yesterday. I can't treat him all at once. I did first-aid treatment already, so after the IV is finished, we can only wait for his body to heal slowly overnight."

You heard her chair move again so you slowly poked your head out to watch the unsuspecting adults once more, still in shock that the man standing there was actually All Might.

What happened to him? Was e suddenly hit with a quirk that made him look weak when you were out? You were pretty sure there was no one like that in your class... Why did he look like you after he left you alone for years?

"Jeez, I know he's your favorite and that you passed on your powers to him, but doesn't mean you should spoil him!"

'passed on his powers?' You went back behind the curtains and slowly made your way back over to the bed, you knew who was in the room now and really all you wanted to do now was listen. You got back in bed just in time for Recovery Girl to mention you, which made you quickly close your eyes and fake sleep.

"Not only that, but he also ended up injuring another student life-threateningly because you didn't stop it!"

You heard shuffling before 'All Might' spoke quietly.

"Is she in here?" You had a feeling he as speaking about you.

"Of course she is, where else would she be?"

"Then should we not speak of this here?" You heard his underlining panic, then heard movement coming your way.

You heard the curtains move, your eyes closed as you faked a deep sleep, as if you weren't at all listening to everything they were saying.

"Her powers allowed me to heal her perfectly fine, and though she told me she could leave, I told her to stay for rest. She's in deep sleep now, she's been sleeping for a long while now. She's strong, but I could tell that even before her injuries she was tired."

The was silence for a moment, then All Might spoke up.

"She... Doesn't seem to like me."

"Did you realize this before or after your underling almost killed her?"

You heard him sigh.

"She... yelled at me before the class had really even started. She gave attitude and didn't like any word that came from my mouth... she looked at me like was a monster... I hadn't really expected that from a student."

"Please," Recovery girl commented. "you are probably being over dramatic. She's a teen after all. Besides, once again, I doubt she will be fond of you when she wakes up."

The curtains moved again and it sounded like they returned to the spots they were in before.

"You know, if it were anyone else who took that lethal hit from raw One For All, they would be dead."

There was a long drag of silence, you yourself thought about what happened as well. It was true, if you had any other quirk, you wouldn't be here now. Your ability to absorb energies and use them like an exploding star was the only reason you took that blast so well.

Sure, it fucked you up badly, but to have that much energy left in your body to allow Recovery Girl to heal you completely was almost like God telling you to be thankful for your quirk.

"I think you should become closer to her since you are so sure she hates you. After this, your image in her eyes will no doubt be damage, so make things right with her. Just because this boy holds your powers now, doesn't give you the right to ignore your other students simply because they are not him."

The silence hung before you heard him sigh.

"There is nothing I can say to that. Because I wanted to consider his feelings, I hesitated to stop the training match. Even so... will you please not talk about One For All so loudly?"

'To late you piece of shit, secrets out' You thought to yourself in your head, you weren't going to let up on your underlining hate for him anytime soon. Especially now that you learned that he's playing favorites with Midoriya, who you had beef with after he pushed your help away during the test and almost killed you.

Granted, you ran out into the open with no plan, but it was his and Uraraka's fault for doing something so dangerous in the building in the first place. If that weapon hand been real and they pulled that shit, you would have all been dead or close to it.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Natural-Born Hero. Mr. Symbol of Peace." Recovery Girl responded, it made you wonder what All Might's personality was really like, but your anger for him shoved that thought away as you continued to listen.

"My injury and this form of mine are common knowledge among the U.A. teachers and a certain group of pros, but the secret of my quirk, One For All, is known only to you, the principal, my close friends, and Young Midoriya."

Your eyes, now open, glared at the ceiling above you.

'And now I know... I wonder how he would feeling knowing there was a rouge person who knew his 'secret' now?'

"I know it's not like you want to rest on your laurels at the top," Recovery Girl interjected. "but is being a 'natural-born hero' or the 'Symbol of Peace' really that important?"

"If I no longer am, then the superhuman society will be seized by evil." You heard him respond, and it took everything in you not to scoff at his words.

It's quite bold of him to think so highly of himself.

'Take a step down from your high horse, asshole, and try walking a mile in my life.' you turn your head and glare at the shadow of him behind the curtain.

'I bet you wouldn't last an hour..'

"This is the responsibility of those of us with this power."

It was silent for another moment longer before Recovery Girl spoke up.

"If that's the case, then it's even more important for you to learn what it means to guide someone."

"Yes, ma'am."

You heard some shuffling then the door to the room open and close, and not even caring about being caught anymore, you sit up in the bed and turn to face the window.

Once upon a time... he promised to guide you. He promised to protect you...

And all you had to do... was wait for him.

But nobody came...

"I suspect you heard all of that, young lady?"

You didn't turn to know she was talking to you, you could feel her eyes on your back as you stared out the window.

"I'm not really surprised you knew I was awake," You sigh, letting your chin touch your chest as you drop your head. You then slightly look over your shoulder at her, raising a brow at her. "if you knew I was awake... how come you didn't tell him?"

She walked over to your side, standing at your right and looking at you with a caring glance.

"You deserve to know, after what happened to you with you and his underling." She looking out the window and you looked as well while she kept talking. "Whatever the case may be in your opinion of him before all this, you have a right to be angry."

You sigh and run a hand over your head and rub your neck, closing your eyes and thinking over everything you learned.

"You're not worried that my hate will make it easy for me to tell others?"

"You don't seem the type to spill secrets," She looks over at you in the eyes. "Even if you wanted to you."

You hated how right she was, you hate him, sure... but you wouldn't out him like that. No matter if you wanted to.

"Guess you're right..." Standing from the bed, you play with your costume as you look to her. "Am I allowed to leave now?"

She let out a sigh.

"Kids these days, don't know what rest is do you?"

You half-smile and shrug, walking past her with a thank you and a bow before leaving. Outside the door you stop and sigh, looking down both sides of the hall before walking back to your class.

You all know what they say.

No rest for the wicked... at least, not from where we stand.

-----

You got out much earlier than Midoriya, luckily for him since if you saw him walking around you would have put him back in the nurses' office anyway.

Kirishima was the first to greet you when you got back, explaining how worried he was and how even though you didn't do too much, the fact that you took that hit full force and lived was manly as hell.

It made you laugh and feel a little bit better, you'd never had someone compliment you before meeting him, let alone had anyone really worry about you.

Next to come to you was Uraraka and Iida.

Uraraka was basically in tears apologizing again and again for letting that happen to you, Iida was also apologizing about not grabbing you fast enough.

You assured Uraraka that no you didn't hate her (that much) and that you weren't sure of her and Midoriya's plan so it was mostly your fault, and you told Iida that you weren't on his team so it wasn't his job to keep you safe.

After that classes went to normal, if not for having Kirishima checking on you a lot, which was very sweet.

The one you were surprised was so silent was the boy behind you, he was quiet almost the whole time, which honestly freaked you out more than him screaming in your face. And, in actuality, upon seeing his quirk you felt like you two were quite similar.

But only the quirk is similar, other than that you both were very different.

Either way... you were hoping to talk to him about it. As hot-headed as he may seem, you could tell he was strong and smart. With similar quirks, you both could learn something.

After classes was done, Kirishima asked if you wanted to wait for Midoriya like some of your classmates.

You rolled your eyes.

"Pass."

Kirishima's hands dropped and he looks a little sad, Uraraka was there and looked at you sadly as well.

"You're still mad?"

You looked at her, then to Kirishima, then down at your body which surprisingly enough was still aching.

"Nah, it's okay that he threw out teamwork to have some dick-measuring contest with this kid," You point your thumb at Bakugo who was quietly getting ready to leave, him glaring and growling at you when you spoke of him. "and then when he finally does use teamwork he uses it with only you and basically almost killed me on the first day of school..."

Everyone present in the room was silent, even Bakugo who was staring at the back of your head.

You roll your eyes and pick up your school bag, walking past everyone to the doors of the class.

"Yeah, no shit I'm still fuckin' mad. For his sake and yours, I'll leave so I don't send him into the hospital instead of the nurse. But, ya know, have fun praising the kid... We all know he deserves it, right?"

You glare at everyone across the room then slam the door so hard is slide open again then slowly drifts shut just from the shear strength you put behind it, and you made your way out of the building as fast as possible.

Of course, you were mad! You were mad about a lot of things right now!

He almost killed you, he's the underling to All Might whose picking favorites with him, All Might's true form in weak as fuck, All Might himself is your god damn teacher, and you don't have any food for dinner so you're gonna have to either steal or look in the trash where you belong and live.

So yeah, you're pissed.

Why did someone like him get picked by All Might to have his powers? What about him made him worthy of that privilege? What did All Might see in him--

"... That he didn't see in me?" You mumbled the last part to yourself quietly, stopping just outside the school's front entrance past the huge gate.

You felt a familiar sting in your eyes and nose just thinking about it all.

Why didn't All Might come back for you? Were you really that forgettable? Were you really that easy to manipulate and get rid of? Were they all right? That All Mighty is the worst of the worst when it comes to respectable heroes?

... Should you do what they told you to so long ago and join them in really thinking about killing--

"Kacchan!"

Your eyes went wide and you quickly hid, glancing behind the gate to see Bakugo walking out of the school with his head down and Midoriya running after him. You were so caught up in your own mind you forgot you had wanted to talk with Bakugo, so you would eavesdrop (again) and hope whatever conversation that was going to happen would hurry so you could finally talk with Bakugo.

Bakugo stopped walking and glared at Midoriya over his shoulder, which in turn made Midoriya stop not too far from him. He looked nervous and that he was debating with himself.

"There's one thing I feel like I have to tell you." Midoriya said, and you leaned closer while still hidden trying to listen in.

Part of your brain slightly mocked you in a villainous tone.

'Old habits die hard, don't they, Y/n?'

You shake it off and continue listening.

"My quirk is something I received from someone else."

'Oh, was that it? I knew that already.' You thought as you roll your eyes.

"I can't say who I got it from, though!" Midoriya continued, and without really knowing it, you were glaring at him just as hard as Bakugo was.

"I won't... But it's like a story out of comic books, except it's true. On top of that, I still can't control it properly." He was looking down the whole time while he was speaking, but he clenched his hand as he said the next thing. "I hurt Y/n really badly..."

"It's just a borrowed power that I haven't made my own yet. That's why... I tried to beat you without using it. But in the end, I couldn't win and had to rely on it."

You saw how Bakugo began to shake at this point, and honestly, you were with him. To act like all of that justifies his actions...

"I've still got a long way to go... That's why--"

Bakugo was actually shaking now, and you had to bit your lip to stop the laugh you could feel growing in your throat. Midoriya put his good hand on his cast and continued his pointless speech.

"One day, I will make this quirk my own and beat you with my own power!"

You held a hand over your mouth to stop the urge to yell at him, knowing this moment had nothing to do with you and just let it all play out.

For a moment the two boys just stared at each other before all hell broke loose.

"What the hell is that?" Bakugo turned around, now facing him head-on. "'Borrowed power'? You're talking nonsense. What are you trying to do, make me out to be more of a fool than you already have? Huh?"

You could feel a ping in your heart for the explosive boy as he became more and more emotional, it seems that you weren't the only one emotionally torn by today's dumb training.

"What are you trying to say? Today, I lost to you... That's all it was... That's all... As I watched the ice guy, I thought, "I can't beat him"!"

Bakugo than grabbed his face as he got more and more frustrated.

"Damn it! I ended up agreeing with what that ponytail girl said! Damn it! Damn it, damn it! Hey, you too, Deku! I'm just... I'm just getting started! You hear? Here, I will become number one!"

You slowly brought a hand up to your fast beating heart as your cheeks flushed and your mind went completely blank of anything but the blonde-haired, ruby eyes boy whose words were like an arrow to the heart.

You suddenly felt a shift in your person, as if everything you'd ever really understood went to a violent halt and took a step back. You weren't at all expecting his words to affect you, but as you gripped the place above your heart you couldn't stop your feelings from changing.

You didn't see Bakugo as a classmate, or just an angry boy anymore...

You saw him as a boy you wanted to walk beside as an equal, on the same level as him as power, strength, intelligence, learn from him, to trust him, just to be...

"with him..." You whispered, watching Bakugo turn and angrily wipe at his eyes with his sleeve, walking away towards where you hid behind the front gate.

"You won't beat me again, bastard!"

You watched Midoriya's body go lax, most likely from being so stiff in front of Bakugo, and your eyes go wide as you then all of a sudden hear the voice you didn't want to hear right now.

"There he is! Young... Bakugo!" All Might was quickly behind Bakugo, who was still covering his face with his arm, while All Might place his hands on both of Bakugo's shoulders.

"Just so you know, pride is important. You definitely have the abilities needed to become a pro. You still have a lot of--"

"Let go of me, All Might. I can't walk."

Seemingly confused, All Might looked at Bakugo, who in return turned slightly over his shoulder to glare.

"I'll become a hero that surpasses even you without you telling me!"

"Huh?" All Might let go of Bakugo, who quickly turned away with his arms still blocking his face. "Uh, right."

You watched Bakugo walking closer to you, which made you step out from behind the gate and look at him in a telling way. He glared as he passed you, and you let him.

You turned and saw Midoriya and All Might still standing in front of the school. Midoriya was looking at you in horror, surprised that you were there at that you possibly over heard, and All Might was also surprised to see you.

But you stared at them blankly before turning away and taking quick steps to follow Bakugo.

"Hey, Bakugo, wait up!" You jogged after him but he didn't respond, you ran in front of him and stopped in his path, forcing him to not only stop but look at you.

"The hell do you want, shitty star girl?" He glares at you. "Do you always listen in on other peoples conversations or was that right reserved for me?"

"Oddly enough, you and broccoli head were not the only conversation I spied on today." You comment, shrugging your shoulders at him.

"What do you want?" He asked again.

"I think you and I should be friends."

"Go to hell." He then tried to walk past you but you put your hands out and stopped him with a nod.

"Fair enough, but more than that, I think you and I would be great partners."

"Huh?" He sneered and raised a brow at you, you didn't notice it because of the sun's lighting but his cheeks turned a little pink.

"For training? It's undeniable that you and I have similar quirks, or...are you not as smart as I thought you were?"

He groans and rolls his eyes.

"What the hell is your point, star girl?!"

"My point is we can learn from each other." You finally said, throwing your hands out. He scoffed.

"What would I have to learn from you?"

"Well, for one, have you ever tried letting out short bursts instead of full-on hits every time?"

He was quiet and still glaring, but in his head, he started to think about that strategically.

"Or, using the heat of your blasts to your advantages?"

"What the hell would you get out of this then, huh?" He countered, looking you up and down. You smile and cross your arms.

"You're smart, you're strong, you see things differently than I do. I just want to study with you and become as strong as you."

He scoffs again, covering up the fact that his heart jumped at the compliments that came from you.

"Like I would study with a dumb ass like you."

"Fair, but all I'm saying is to think about it, okay?" You reason, waving your hand around in front of you. "I'll be honest with you, this is my first time in school ever. I've never been to school before this, so there's a lot going on that I don't really understand.

"I get it, you've got a lot of pride, and that's admirable to a point. Where ever you were before in school, you aren't at that spot now, and I get it. It sucks, trust me. To be so close to victory only to have it stole, I get it."

He was silent as you talked, unknowingly hanging off your every word. Unlike Midoriya, he actually wanted to hear what you had to say... Like you said, new views. He had his view and you had yours, and despite every bit of pride in his body telling him not to, he could see that what you were saying was pretty true.

You both would benefit from allying together.

"Again, you don't have to make that choice right now, hell, you don't even have to give me an answer in a week. Just think about it, and when you find the answer, pull me aside at school."

"Huh? Your not gonna try and 'hang' with me outside of school?" He questioned, usually he suspected this is the part you'd give him your number. (putting aside the fact that he actually wanted it).

You sigh and look off to the side.

"For one, I don't have a phone. And I guess we can hang outside of school, but only if you want to and it can never be where I live."

"Huh?" He looks at you skeptical, and you just hoped he wouldn't ask why not go to your house.

You both stand in silence for a moment, and you looked at him in the eyes.

"Think about it, okay?"

He stares at you for a moment longer, then scoffs and looks away with a slight pout.

"Fine, just move so I can go home."

"Right, sorry." You move out of his way, and he walks past you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

He didn't get far before you called out to him again.

"Bakugo!"

"Oh my god! What the fuck else do you want!?" He yells irritated, turning to glare at you. You smile at him and wave your hand.

"Thank you for listening, I know I can be unbearable."

And with that you turn and make your way back to your 'home', Bakugo staring after you, watching you walk away.

He didn't really understand why he stopped to talk to you anyway, but part of him told him he doesn't regret it.

From where he stood, you were someone to watch.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #x female reader

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lesrevesdeprovence · 4 years

Photo

Indecent lyrics

Universe: Idol AU

Genre: fluff

Characters: Jane (OC), Jaehyun, M (briefly). Mentions of Tara (OC) and Mark

Word count: 2,2 k

*Part of the larger world and multiple AU stories, but you can read it on its own. If you have questions, the private messages and asks are open.

“So…” Jane said as she led the ash-blond man through the doorway of her new favorite local spot. It was a cold November day, so Jane silently cursed herself, wondering what kind of stupid idea was crossing her mind when she picked her outfit that morning. On days like those, it was painfully obvious how much of a Provençal girl Jane Durand was. No one in London wore a —mini— skirt suit, stockings, and a silk paper-thin blouse on a winter day. Or at least not any Londoner.

Jane sighed in content when a blast of warm air-kissed the skin of her face, the atmosphere as cozy and welcoming as ever. Granted, she had only been in this particular place a few times —all of them to plot how to get Minah and that Sungjae guy she liked together—, but she was already in love with the familiarity and comfort of M’s coffee shop. Not to mention its private ambiance, which was the main reason she had dragged Jaehyun there as soon as his superstar idol group landed in London for a packed week of concerts and promotions.

“So, what?” Jaehyun asked, the slightest sight of a smirk forming as he reached to grab her hand. It was probably the simplest of the gestures, but it made Jane hold in an enamored sigh as they strolled past several tables, turning eyes on them. As per usual, Jaehyun and his chiseled Korean pop-star features, sleek jawline and perfectly tousled hair attracted attention effortlessly. And there was no doubt as to why. Jaehyun was dashing even while clad in casual attire. A checkered Comme des Garçons blazer fit on his upper body while tight black jeans captured every curve of his muscled thighs. The look was appalling to Jane after barely seeing him at all for weeks that appeared to be bazillion years.

“Start explaining how this-” Jane recomposed herself and made a pause to signal him to sit at a nearby table. Then, she pointed at the screen of her phone “…happened?” She completed the question scrunching up her nose in something that resembled disgust, which undoubtedly misplaced Jaehyun because all his eyes could take in was Jane’s music app; his group’s latest track on pause.

“We have a new Recording Company in the States?” The guy ventured, not quite sure he was getting her question. After all, his “girlfriend” —who also happened to be his group’s international PR assistant—, was the first person to inform him, a couple of weeks ago, that their next schedule included a trip to L.A. and the recording of a full English track.

“I know that, silly.” Jane scoffed rolling eyes and placing her mint-colored Chiquito bag on the table quite dramatically. “And that was not my question”

“Then?” Jaehyun came next to her and pulled out a chair before sitting across the table.

“I meant the substitute indecent lyrics everybody is talking about right now!” She said tapping her phone and the dozens of notifications showing on the top of the screen. “Twitter is going off”

“Hey! They are not indecent lyrics!” The man complained and pouted offended, his antics so cute that they painfully reminded Jane of that popular homemade video of an 11-year-old Jaehyun, speaking nonsense English that included phrases of the likes of “I just want some milk” or “Be quiet, don’t cry”. She laughed thinking how “They are not indecent lyrics” would surely fit that list along with his signature “It’s just a kiss” that in reality was a meaningful subtext because it always ended up with them losing track of time in some obscure corner of the guys’ rented home in St. James.

Jane made a mental note to add the new phrase to Jaehyun’s book of nonsense English.

“Sweetie, the whole thing went from “As if nothing had happened on your way. Go easy. Keep on” to “Baby, you a bad girl, watch your mouth” and “I love how your body feels on me”. Jane explained, keeping her tone unwavering.

“Oh! I see what you mean” Jaehyun’s eyebrow went up and his lips slowly turned into a devilish smile “But they are not indecent lyrics unless you are a dirty-minded person” He retorted naturally, leaning back on the chair and crossing his arms over the chest. His smirk becoming more distinctive under the dim lights of the café.

“You’re speaking as though you had no idea of how dirty-minded I can-“ Jane stopped midway when she realized Jaehyun was grinning a bit too much, looking pleased and causing a pair of cute dimples to form on his cheeks. It was that distinctive look he gave her whenever he wanted to brag about something, but this time it almost looked as though he knew something she didn’t. “Oh God-“ Jane turned her head just on time to see M uncomfortably touching his nape, looking turned in between not knowing what to do and feeling flat-out embarrassed.

“Are you ready to order?” M stood few steps away, taller than Jane remembered him to be, with his ever friendly kilowatt smile and those square shoulders that made him appear more imposing than his warm personality alone would’ve ever allowed him to be.

“Hey, Jane, nice to see you.” Jane mimicked what was supposed to be M greeting her on any normal day, although she had to accept her voice was nothing like his. Nevertheless, it made M laugh briefly and his cheeks to slightly flush.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t mean to interrupt" the man responded with a simple wave and a gracious smile on his face, dimples in full view.

“Oh, come on! That’s ridiculous” Jane rolled eyes and scoffed playfully. “You’re not interrupting anything, we were just-“

“I’ll get an ice-Americano” Jaehyun blurted out of the blue. It earned him a confused look from both M and Jane. Then, he cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to remind Jane of his presence.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is my friend, M and this is his coffee shop” Jane made a small hand gesture, signaling M. Jaehyun only nodded, acknowledging his presence before asking the routine question.

“What does the “M” stand for?”

“Mystery” Jane said almost automatically “It’s a well-kept secret he refuses to disclose, but that’s irrelevant.” Jane interrupted M before he could even begin to explain it himself “Anyway, this is Jaehyun.” Jane moved on, trying to avoid more questions from the blonde man and knowing perfectly well that he was waiting to be introduced. “A friend”

The offhanded way in which she used the word “friend” made Jaehyun frown. It sounded to him the roughly equivalent to “some guy I barely know and have no particular ties to”, but he pushed those thoughts away before Jane could examine his expression closely.

“Nice to meet you,” The two men said almost in unison. An awkward silence followed afterward, but Jane was quick enough to break it with the cute antics she reserved for when she was in the presence of men. She tilted her head, put a finger over her lips and moved it up and down pretending to contemplate her options.

“And I’ll get my usual order,” She said finally.

“Irish coffee with only 1 cm of cream. Be right back” Without further exchange M walked away and disappeared behind the counter seconds later.

Jaehyun remained silent, waiting for Jane to pick up the conversation right where they had left it. There was something he couldn’t point at that made him sulk childishly, so he reached the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone. His group’s latest track had been released only a few hours ago and although that was not the right the moment or place, he distracted his mind by swiping at the screen and scrolling down his Twitter feed.

“Ice Americano?” Jane raised a brow and outstretched her hand over the table to hold Jaehyun’s, momentarily diverting his attention away from his phone. “It’s freezing outside, you’re going to get sick.”

Jaehyun held Jane’s hand, the corner of his lip raising faintly “Are you worried about me?”

“Jaehyun, you have three interviews and a concert tomorrow! You can’t get sick” Jane said, suddenly frowning seriously at him.

“Oh, yeah, right” The man quietly went back to his phone after releasing Jane’s hand. Knowing that it was her work that claimed her thoughts and not him, made him scowl and remained silent until their order came and Jane brought up the topic of Mark’s love issues and how Tara didn’t seem willing to spend Christmas in New York with him and the rest of the group. Then, Jaehyun’s scowl was replaced by a slight indication of concern in his brows.

“You girls are way too complicated” He blurted, barely registering the words he had just pronounced.

“Ohhh, is that so?” Jane’s eyes squint just slightly, a soft smile creeping onto her lips.

“Yes,” He nodded solemnly “I see it this way, Tara broke up with Mark, and what was the reason? I don’t know, she just said she was losing herself in their relationship.” Jaehyun picked his drink and gave it a long sip, probably expecting Jane to say something, but at her lack of response, he went on “Then she gets caught going out with that one guy she repeatedly claimed she disliked and now that they are apparently back together she doesn’t want to spend Christmas with him. Does that make sense?” Jaehyun said that last bit rolling eyes.

“Ok, can you stop projecting on Tara and Mark and tell me what is bothering you? Because honestly, I feel you have something to say” She raised a brow to mask her amusement. To be honest, Jane knew perfectly well what the problem was and why Jaehyun was acting like someone had deeply wounded his ego, but she still had to ask the question.

“I just don’t get why we couldn’t stay home with a bottle of La Romanée Grand Cru.” He groaned “The boys all went out, so we had the house all for ourselves” Jaehyun folded his arms over his chest and leaned back on the chair again. He almost looked like some sulking kid who had been denied a piece of cake.

“You seemed perfectly fine just a few minutes a-“ Jane’s speech was interrupted when Jaehyun let out a loud sigh, eyes dark as he glared at something behind her.

“You introduced me as a friend, Jane. That’s what’s bothering me” He said, eyes locking with hers. This time his lips didn’t show any sign of that signature mischievous smile of his. Instead, they were pressed into a thin line.

“Jaehyun, are you serious just now?” Jane’s eyes landed on him, training on his face for a few seconds before speaking again. “I work for your company, you know I can’t go around flaunting our relationship to everybody.”

“Is that so or are you probably trying to keep your options open? Honestly, I get it, we don’t get to spend a lot of time together, but-“

“Shhhh. That’s about enough” Jane cut him off before he said add another word. “Let’s just finish this” She said pointing at their drinks “And then we can go home. We still have a lot of time before the guys go back home and I’m positively freezing, so I need a new outfit”

A doubtful expression set on Jaehyun’s face for only a second before his lips cracked into a small smile, eyes forming into crescents as he nodded.

“You are such a simple-minded man, Jung Jaehyun…” Jane shook her head

“For the record, I did like the coffee and I actually love the outfit” The man reached out for Jane’s hand and laced their fingers together.

“Thanks, it’s Carven” She hummed before taking a sip from the cup resting in front of her.

“I don’t care about the brand as long as I can get it off you when we get home,” Jaehyun said, picking his own drink and gulping it down in a matter of seconds.

“Jaehyun…” Jane gaped at him

“What? I was just hot” Jaehyun shrugged nonchalantly.

“You are going to get sick and I won’t be the one taking care of you” The woman clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“Probably not, but you’re gonna have to take care of something else” Conveniently enough Jaehyun opened his jacket and looked at his inside pocket, taking his wallet out and picking a 20 pounds bill. Jane tried to ignore it, but the juxtaposition between the his intense stare and the relaxed smirk on his lips was driving her crazy. Even dressed in that casual attire, he kept the same energy that he held clad in those red carpet looks that his fan swooned about. It was frankly annoying.

“Ugh. You are so cheeky. It’s embarrassing.” She composed a grimace, but Jaehyun only chuckled, a wider smirk displaying on his face; his dimples even more evident on his cheeks.

“Is it me or you’re blushing?” Jaehyun teased “Only a few minutes ago you were talking this big game about showing me how dirty-minded you can be, but I guess you were only bluffing. It is such a shame.”

“Shut up, Mr-those-are-not-indecent-lyrics.” Jane’s eyes narrowed “A few minutes ago you were professing your high moral ground and called me dirty-minded for assuming the obvious about your song”

“You know what? Let’s just go.” Jaehyun placed the 20 pounds bill on the table and grabbed Jane by the arm, helping her to stand up.

“But I haven’t finished my coffee yet” She complained, pointing at the cup and its content.

“I’ll get you another one later, with tons of cream,” Jaehyun said picking Jane’s bag “That's it, if you are a good girl, of course,” he said smirking devilishly, innuendo present in his comment, judging by the way he winked at Jane her “For now, I got some things you want to see” He added, quoting the exact lyrics from his group’s newest release in a sing-song voice

“That was one fine way to ruin such a beautiful and meaningful song” Jane rolled eyes as she allowed Jaehyun to drag her out the coffee shop.

:::

#gw au #jane #jaehyun #m #story #oc

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Seasons Beatings

[The Void, Vytal tournament ring]

Everyone falls into a random seat. Their weapons right beside them and they are wearing their actual clothes for a change. Lucas checks his katana before putting it on his left hip. Jael examines his baggy Belladonna purple fisherman pants and smoky gray tank top. She’s really into his sneakers that match the whole outfit.

Jael:Yep, definitely a Menagerie kid. Fashionable yet functional.

Lucas:You know it. Why are we?

Jael:Beats me? I don’t hear a test commencing. Also this place is usually blank so this is uncharted territory.

A few rows above them in the north bleachers. is Valerie in a light brown coat with fur around the collar, sleeves, and bottom rim. Underneath is a pink shirt with a white lightning pattern that makes it look like it’s cracking. Navy blue tights and light brown fur boots complete the look.

Valerie:Sup guys.

Jael and Lucas:.....

Valerie:It’s not real fur you two so relax. Geez, so touchy. *smiles*

Lucas:Well....

Jael:You can never be too sure. Did you bring us here?

Valerie:Never been here before in my life.

Nicholas and Summer sit on the opposite side with Tenzen right behind them in th south bleachers.

Tenzen:Hey you two. What’s shaking?

Nicholas:Ooh you know, school.

Summer:Skipping school.

Tenzen:Those are two very different things but I respect both sides. I was in the middle of a nap but this is way more interesting. Anyone see Yujin?

Yujin:I’m over here Tenzen!

He looks to the right and sees her jumping and waving in the west bleachers. Sienna and Jacquelyn sit next to her.

Yujin:You think he can hear me?

Sienna:I’m pretty sure you can just go sit next to him if you miss him.

Yujin:*blushing* Pfft I don’t miss him. I’m just letting him know I’m around.

Yujin:Sssshhh!

Jael:Anyone notice the disturbing lack of Carmine?

Everyone:.....

Valerie:Come now, there’s no way she’s apart of this. Carmine never wants to participate she just naps and brags about being strong.

Spotlights immediately shine down on each of them before spinning around the stadium. They converge in the middle as the platform rises. The giant screens turn on to focus on it. The sound of tapping echoes through the room and keeps everyone’s attention on the middle. They can’t believe their eyes; specifically Valerie. Carmine stands in the middle tapping her right foot and a confident smile clear as day in her face.

She’s wearing calf high combat boots that match her sand colored cargo shorts that stop just below her belly button. Red tear away sleeve hug her arms to show off her toned arms and stop righ before her shoulders. Everyone can see her flat stomach with the red crop top she has on and makes the tips of the X shape scar on her back visible. It’s hard to make out from a distant the Arc crest is visible to Yujin right above her left hip. Around her neck is a silk scarf that matches the same sandy yellow as her bottoms. Despite all that, it was hard not to notice her red contacts were out and the decent sized curved blade on her back that looks like it was dragged right out a video game. It sort resembled a dorsal fin with knicks on the outside of it. The handle had worn bandages on it it and connected to a circular piece before the blade actually started. Last but not least, black fingerless gloves.

Carmine:Hello every-

Tenzen:No combat skirt?

Valerie:No hood?

Carmine:It gets pretty windy and hot in Vacou so no to both of things.

Tenzen:But you’re a Rose!

Valerie:Yeah a hood would be perfect for the sun beaming on you too.

Carmine:My last name doesn’t mean I have to- stop ruining my entrance! I set all this up and this is what you say?

Yujin:I think you look awesome!

Carmine:(At least one person cares) As I was saying, hello everyone. Enjoying the holidays? Well it’s getting better. I’ve decided to be less secretive around you bunch and give y’all what you wanted. A proper match.

Everyone:Eyes widened

Carmine:You heard me. Think of it as my gift. Each one of you will enter the ring one at a time and we’ll show off our skills. Aura matches are too long. So you can also win by ring out or a lethal pin. Don’t worry about tiring me out either. Each match restores all of us to peak condition after fighting. In other words.....

Lucas:Get crazy with it.

Nick:This is a really weird holiday gift. Do we get anything if we beat you?

Carmine:Hmmm I’ll let you all decide that if one of you manage it. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t plan on losing.

Jacquelyn:Few rarely do.

Carmine:Indeed..... Anyone is welcome to jump in first. *stretching* ‘Tis the season and all that jazz. Who am I kidding though? One of you is already dying to jump in.

She closes her eyes and shakes out her limbs. Suddenly her foot pivots and her entir body turns around; putting immense force into a right hook until it’s stopped by a hand. Her left hand raises in front of her face to catch what feels like someone else’s right hook. Carmine opens her eyes to see Tenzen with an excited look in eyes that matches her own. The audience is left quiet as the pressure builds in the air.

Valerie:I....I didn’t even see him move.

Yujin:Don’t feel bad. Most people don’t.

Tenzen:This is unexpected. How’d you know I was coming for you?

Carmine:The moment I talked about fighting I could feel my hair start to stand up. Might as well as screamed “let’s fight!”

Tenzen:What can I say? I’m an eager man!

He slides his leg in between her and sweeps both feet. Before he could follow up with a throw, Carmine twist her body mid fall and one leg on either side of his neck and locks them. She finally lets go of his fist and uses the free hand to support her dangling upper body. All her strength is used to bring her body as quick as she can into a handstand; flinging him in the process. Tenzen rolls out of the throw and sees his opponent standing upright and pacing side to side slowly. Her eyes studying him. He begins to do the same and stretch his neck.

Tenzen:(Okay, let’s not get too eager. Talk about a leg press.)

Carmine:(He’s fast and extremely nimble. I won’t catch him off gaurd like that again. Last thing I need is a drawn out fight. I’ll go for a pin next time.)

He tried taking a step back but Carmine took one step forward. Not just that either. She was mimicking each move he made down to the swing of his arms. Her body tensed the moment his left foot jerked forward then calmly back into a steady pace. Letting him build up speed is dangerous, but giving him time to think wasn’t good either.

Valerie:Geez they’re really trying predict each other’s movements uh?

Lucas:Can you blame them? One just got thrown and the other can’t make a sloppy move and get blitzed. If he body checks her and misses then he might fly out the ring.

Valerie:Can’t you see what we’ll happen next?

Lucas:Yeah but that’s boring. I’m more invested this way.

Tenzen:Alright let’s do this....

Pink lightning crackles around his clothing before vanishing from sight. Orange sparks pop around Carmine as he reappears to her left with is semblance activated. There isn’t enough time to react and connects a jab that digs into two ribs. He then pivots on his front right foot and slams into Carmine’s upper back with a left elbow strike. Letting her counter is not an option. She tries turning around into a side kick but misses completely as he jumps overhead head; grabbing her shoulders. Electric shocks prevent Carmine from grabbing the sleeves and she gets thrown across the ring with incredible force.

Tenzen:Ring o-

Carmine pulls out the sword and stabs it firmly into the metal flooring; stopping all momentum before she flings herself right back at him without the blade. An aura blast from Tenzen pushes her back to the previous direction until she once again manages to grab the sword to slingshot herself with even more speed. This time Carmine pulls out a small black rod from her left pocket that extends into a hollow nightstick that crashes right into Tenzen face when Carmine flies pass him. The impact makes his head fly back and he finds himself starring down the barrel of it right before what looks like a musket round is fired into his back. The impact feels like a slammed against a wall Ursa and makes him stumble forward. His head comes back up just in time to side step what should’ve been a sword still sticking out the ground, yet there was. Spinning like a saw right by him.

It’s no sniper rifle but the gun is nothing to snuff at. Carmine points it backwards and the recoil from the next shot is enough to push her forward slightly keep her from ringing out a second time. The assault continues with her running back at him and catching the sword with her right hand. Carmine front flips into a cross slash with both weapons but is blocked by Tenzen holding his tonfas in front of him. Neither budge an inch in force or from the deafening sound of the clash. However, only one is smiling now. The other is regretting going first.

Tenzen:Your ...your sword.....How did you-

Carmine:If I told you then it makes it less impressive. Like how you and Ren can fit entire weapons in your sleeves. You gotta teach me that sometime.

They finally push apart. Carmine swings her weapons in tandem but Tenzen is more than fast enough to react. Everyone of her strikes his met with a perfect block using his tonfas that protect his forearms. Left, right, above, thrusts, she consistently keeps the pressure on him while constantly trying to sweep a leg. There isn’t one pivot or slight shift in footing that he doesn’t account for and immediately maneuvers around while trying to find an opening. The others are amazed by his footwork except for Yujin. People don’t flock to him when he dances for nothing. Still, it was interesting to see him struggle for once. Also unnerving since she still has to fight.

Yujin:(Come on, show her what your made of...)

Finally an opportunity arises. Tenzen baits her into using her weapons to hook the inside of his. Carmine swipes outward “disarming” him but leaving herself wide open. He immediately drop kicks her in the chest to get a little distance. The spry boy lands on his back spinning with his legs out like a helicopter. Aura swirls outward and knocks her even further away but she braced herself for it. He has more than enough space regardless. Tenzen dismounts backwards of his hands and concentrates aura into his right hand while using it to pull the lightning dust out the sleeve. Stadium lights flicker. Carmine isn’t quite sure what she’s witnessing. All she knows is Tenzen’s hand is now ungulfed in pink lightning while his discarded tonfas lay apart but currently has a current running jumping between the two. The metal floor definitely isn’t helping....

Carmine:(He made a trip wire out of electricity!Won’t let me dodge to the other side huh? Certainly can’t block that attack head on either. Jump into the air? No, I’ll be a sitting duck. Hmph, not bad.) You got skills.

Tenzen:You ain’t see nothing yet!

In a blink of an eye he launches himself at her with an aura kick. Carmine smirks and hurls pass him towards the ground. The spin on them is enough to make them bounce off the floor and redirects the sporadic currents of electrified aura anywhere else while she dives to a safe spot; only getting grazed. One bolt finds it’s way towards the west bleachers where Jacquelyn counters it with her own lightning.

Jacquelyn:Phew......

A second one flies to the south where Lucas bounces it safely off his scabbard and up into the air.

Valerie:Wow....

Lucas:Okay... I might’ve peeked ahead once.

Valerie:No complaints from me!

Summer:I’m glad we’re on this side when Carmine dodged.

Nicholas:Right!?

Back on the area was still far from safe. Carmine was officially disarmed but not out of ideas unknown to Tenzen. He was already on his return trip with a smaller version of his attack; he was losing steam. It was time to put Arc endurance to the test. Dodging twice would be too predictable. Instead she rushed right at him and grabbed the charged fist; shocking her. More importantly, catching him off gaurd. Quickly he pulled his grandfather’s knife out his shoe and tried to bringing down to her chest. The blade was avoided by twirling behind him while maintaining the grip on his hand to pin it. Without hesitation she swept both legs and let her weight come crashing down on top of his back. Carmine reached for the knife and brought it to the side of his throat; all while his clothes shocked her like a bug on a zapper.

Carmine:You’re pinned with a knife!!! Match over!

Tenzen:......crap.

He deactivated his semblance and the aura in his clothes. Carmine hops off of him and lays on her back. Both her clothes and skin are a bit roughed up momentarily before a light shines down; restoring both fighters. Tenzen didn’t move as he was still catching his breath and replaying the last few moves in his head. Yujin could tell from her seat that he frustrated with his performance.

Tenzen:(She had a counter for basically everything I thought of. Even clearing the floor; catching my attack...) *tenses up*

Losing wasn’t new to him and he’s not a sore loser. Still, it felt like a blowout and that’s because it was one. He probably would’ve stewed on the ground longer of his thoughts weren’t cut off by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He tilted his head to the side to see Carmine looking at him. No smug look, no pity, just simple curiosity and a hint of amazement.

Carmine:When Yujin said you were basically a ninja she wasn’t kidding. I don’t know anyone who can move quite like you do. Also that hidden knife? If I went for a throw or a different pin then that could’ve really sucked. You’re just full of neat mix ups aren’t you? Who knows what would’ve happened if I let you do anything really crazy.

Tenzen:*red* Yeah well, you are too much to for me. Felt like I was read like an instruction manual. That’s some crazy reaction time. Even if I could reach full speed without flying off the edge, you’d have a plan. I can see it in your eyes.

Carmine:And I can see who I fought is only just finding his groove. Beacon better watch out. Their power bill is gonna suck. *holds out hand* Good match, I’m glad we fought.

Those words. They were so sincere. Carmine wasn’t the type of person to coddle. A few conversations with her was enough to know she has no problem being direct with people. If he’s getting praise then he earned it. In the end Tenzen got a gift after all. He smiled at her before taking her hand to get up. Quickly he grabbed his things and walked to the bleachers.

Tenzen:I’ll be watching the other matches closely. I still wanna know that sword trick you did and what you got up your sleeve.

Carmine:Hopefully everyone is as interesting as you.

Tenzen:*going to west bleachers* Hey Jin.

Yujin:Hey uhhh, you weren’t over here.

Tenzen:Are you saying you don’t want me around?

Yujin:No no! Just....*pats seat* thought you wanted space.

Tenzen:I’ll be alright. Rather spend time with you like I always.

Yujin:*red* Do as you please.... anyways, any good advice when I go?

Tenzen:Not exactly hehehehe. Honestly I’m starting to think declaring herself as the strongest wasn’t just ego.

Jacquelyn:You don’t say....

Sienna:You see anything you think you couldn’t handle?

Jacquelyn:Not really, but’s that’s sort of the problem.

Sienna:I don’t follow.

Jacquelyn:Her semblance, I didn’t see her use it.

........

The three of them tried to recall it but came up with nothing. Their attention turned back to Carmine who was calmly sipping out of a water bottle and shaking her limbs out again.

Carmine:Alrighty then! Who’s next?

#carmine arc rose #my oc’s #rwby #yujin xiao long #lie tenzen #sienna frost #jael frost #jacquelyn frost #val valkyrie #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #lucas belladonna #seasons beatings #renora #rwby lancaster #dragonslayer rwby #rwby knightshade #rwby whiteknight

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