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straightouttheslendermansionn · 1 year

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𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑮𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊'𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑨 𝑺𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏!?

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓: Yae Miko

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Yae is a diligent kitsune with a broad imagination. She needs ideas to keep the publishing house thriving, and would go to any lengths to get what she needs. However, what if pretending to be in a relationship with a shrine maiden isn't just for the sake of inspiration?

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: Just really fluffy and just a little gay. Love you guys!

As sly as a fox is she, with her wits always about her but her playful nature running amok. The look in her eyes always either gleaming with a hint of mischief or glaring with the utmost solemnity. Yae is revered on all of Inazuma’s islands and even across the sea, where gods and their retainers alike recall her name and commend her for her power.

That being said, having the Lady Guuji casually walk up to you and strike up a conversation would have been unheard of. Especially if you’re a mere shrine maiden. She runs the show, always stern and diligent, expecting the same of those operating the Grand Narukami Shrine. This line of work is very sacred after all.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Yae greeted you as she walked over to where you were sweeping the deck of one of the small buildings. Everything in your brain was put on pause as you processed her greeting.

“Good morning, Lady Guuji!” You replied timidly, almost completely caught off guard by her specifically greeting you. The closer she got to where you were, the more the sinking anxiety feeling grew within your chest. She never usually has time for conversing with the maidens, so you start to worry that you either did something wrong or have boatloads of work– comparable to the cargo held in the ships that come in from Liyue Harbor.

You tried to focus on the task at hand– sweeping and cleaning up the shrine’s decks. Breathing along with the broom strokes, trying to calm down and catch your breath. However, the only sweeping actually happening was Miss Yae sweeping you off your feet. As per usual, it isn’t difficult to find yourself enamored by and in fear of the kitsune, but how could you not? With those purple eyes boring into your soul, you could drop dead any second.

“Why so scared? You did nothing wrong. You can untense. As if you even need my permission to do so.” She attempted to assure you with a slightly teasing tone. You let out a nervous giggle and tried your best to steady your breath and slow your racing thoughts. You propped the broom up onto one of the railings and turned to face her, bowing and coming back up with a sheepish smile on your face. Your expression is riddled with awkwardness and fear.

She was trying to put you at ease, look eased, dammit!

“Is there anything important you need to make me aware of, Lady Miko?” You asked, expecting her to issue you orders or commend your upkeep of the shrine and walk away.

“Actually, I do have something I’d like to talk to you about. I feel this isn’t the time or place though, so all I ask is that we meet at the Uyuu Restaurant at your earliest convenience. Sound good, little one?” She asked with crossed arms and a smile. You nodded.

“Of course, Lady Guuji.” You accepted her invitation, still very nervous. She chuckled at your worried expression and smirked.

“Glad we arranged this. I hope to see you soon, Y/N,” She sang before walking off. You waited for her to leave before continuing to work, as she instantly rushed off to check on other areas of the shrine.

What exactly did she want? You wondered to yourself. It would have been a valid question, had your words not been caught in your throat. It’s really hard to think when her sakura scent is wafting into your nose, her eyes are only on you, and that smile of hers on her face. You’re aware that she is planning something, but cannot pin down exactly what.

Could it be something to do with the Shogun? No. She would have known better than to choose a simple shrine maiden. Chances are, she would have called upon that traveler, the one Yae called on to assist her in bringing the Shogun back to her senses. Surely they would be a thousand times more effective and helpful than you.

It definitely wasn’t something regarding shrine work, unless, of course, it is. She has had plots in the past where she would have shrine maidens play roles to assist in the success of her plans regarding the supernatural. This matter didn’t seem to worry her that much though, she didn’t seem too serious. Of course, the kitsune was careful and excelled in masking her true intentions and emotions, but it seems that this wasn’t something too urgent.

Could the Lady Guuji herself be asking you to accompany her as a friend? That would be sweet but doesn’t ease you or shake your skepticism. As unlikely as this seems, she does like watching people squirm in her presence, it can be fun for her if she’s in a playful and jovial mood. But you? Really? You shake the thought, highly doubtful that this is actually the case.

Throughout the day, your racing thoughts began to fade as you performed your duties. Assisting in practices and performing simple exorcisms (or rather, faking it because the person in question isn;t actually possessed), deciphering fortune slips, etcetera. By the end of your day’s work, you had almost completely forgotten about Lady Guuji’s request until thinking about dinner.

You hurried down the steps of the shrine, all the way down Mt. Yougo and through the grassy fields into Inazuma City. Upon nearing the restaurant, Yae already stood, anticipating your arrival. She didn’t notice you at first, this led to you tapping her shoulder and slightly jumping back when she turned to you, smiling.

“I expected you to take longer,” she laughed “shall we head inside?”

You nodded your head as she made way for you to walk through the doorway first, she immediately followed. The lights inside were charming and the setting itself was nice and cozy as well. Yes, you’ve been here before, but never appreciated it as much until being invited by her. You noticed every little detail of the place; from the various scents moving through the air, to the creaking wood and chatter from other patrons. All of these surroundings occupied your mind, consumed you as a distraction from the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The two of you sat at the bar, where you both ordered the ever-popular tonkotsu ramen. The silence was awkward at first, even though the ambience of the other customers made up for the lack of conversation from the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to thank me for inviting you out tonight, Y/N?” the kitsune joked. Due to your tenseness and nervousness, you had to fight the urge to apologize profusely.

“My apologies, Lady Guuji. I am very grateful for the invitation and am glad to be here with you tonight. Thank you.” You responded, almost like you were reciting something pre-rehearsed.

“You are allowed to call me Yae, you know? I understand that you’re caught off guard but I imagined that the shock would have worn off by now.” she remarked.

“It’s kind of… see, you’re highly revered and in all honesty, I’m glad you invited me out tonight but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason.” You explained to her, trying your best to avoid eye contact, yet stealing glances every few words or so.

“Let me explain.” She smiled and cleared her throat subtly.

“Recently, my ideas for writing have run dry as of late. Then it dawned on me that maybe something different is in order,” She started, “After all, Yae Publishing House is renowned for paving the way, is it not?”

“What might that be?” You asked, your interest piqued.

“Well, how many romantic light-novels have you seen with two female protagonists pining for each other?” She proposed. Come to think of it, she has a point. There aren’t very many or any at all. None that are well-known anyway.

“That does sound interesting, especially since I’m big into light novels, I haven’t yet found any with that being the focus. I would definitely read it, that’s for sure.” You beamed. Yae chuckled, thankful for your insight.Your bowls of ramen were gently placed in front of , the steam warming your face and the scent making your mouth water. You were still intent to hear her plans, so you gave her a look that urged her to keep speaking.

“Come now, eat. I didn’t invite you out for you not to eat, after all.” She smiled as she raised her ladle full of pork broth up to her pink lips, savoring every last drop. You couldn’t help but stare at her pleased expression, but looked away as she noticed you looking. You heard her giggling as you picked up the noodles in your bowl and began slurping them up with delight.

After thoroughly enjoying your meals along with each others’ presence, Yae shifted in her seat to face you.

“Oh yes, one part I failed to mention,” she recalled “The reason I invited you to eat and speak with me on this matter.”

“You didn’t just want my input?” You asked her. She shook her head and giggled.

“No, I had something else in mind,” she started explaining “I wanted to see what it was really like, being in a relationship with a woman, solely to assist with writing these two characters. What do you think?”

“You’re not proposing–” You were taken aback, absolutely shocked by what the kitsune was insinuating. Your face turned a bright red and she smirked at this physical response.

“Only for the purpose of writing this story. After all, I can split the sales with you if that’s a motivator of yours.” She proposed.

“No, no! I’m not money-hungry for anything, I’m just–” You shook your head and waved your hands, but she interrupted the oncoming explanation. She already knew.

“I know, I know. This is completely uncalled for and it concerns you that I proposed this out of the blue. Truly I understand,” Yae sympathized, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder “You have all the right to reject this offer. I will not force you to assist me, but I’d very much like it if you did.”

“I…” you tried to speak, but couldn’t muster up the words. While yes, this was quite uncalled for, you weren’t uncomfortable. Flattered, maybe, but not shifting and squirming because you wanted to leave. Only because this was quite sweet, in some weird way. She said it was fake but sincerity was sprinkled in her voice.

“I… I have decided… I will help you with this investigation of yours.” You accepted, turned away from her out of embarrassment.

“Are you certain? You look like you're quite bashful and unsure.” She asked to confirm, and you faced her.

“Miss Yae, all due respect, who in their right mind would reject an opportunity like this?” You deadpanned, causing her to giggle in response.

“I suppose you have a point.”

“So does this mean…?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded and smirked.

“Hopefully we’ll make the best of partners, my dear Y/N.” She cooed as she handed the man behind the counter a pouch of mora. She then proceeded to get up and offer her arm. You got up and grasped her forearm and smiled up at her.

“Shall I walk you home?” She offered, a loving smile on her lips. You nodded and averted your eyes shyly.

“Yes, Miss Yae.” You grinned from ear to ear. You’d cover your face if you could. A feeling was boiling in your chest and you had no idea what it was. Not anxiety, not fear, but admiration? No. Too soon. That couldn’t possibly be it. It’s only been minutes.

“Alright, lead the way,” She said as you two headed out of the restaurant and into the beautiful night.

This is all just for the sake of inspiration, right? Then why does it feel so real?

A/N: Hi guys! I've had this idea in my brain forever and if you want the whole story (I haven't finished the second chapter yet lol), I will be regularly updating it on Wattpad! This post is the first chapter and the link below is the same thing but if you'd like to support the book, it'd mean a lot! <3

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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dreaming in reality, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Again. He’s less drunk this time, but no less weird. Then the right guy shows up. Min Yoongi. You know, the guy you fucked in Jungkook’s bed that one time. Guess he can convince you to do anything. Like, say, take Jungkook’s virginity. Don’t worry, he’ll help.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; violence? someone gets slapped lol; technically Jungkook’s first time; smut (fem reader, threesome, slightly degrading dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, partial handjob); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; Yoongi is a very bad boy and he knows it; JK is blond and wearing his ‘ON’ and ‘Dynamite’ GDA 2021 outfits (except w/o the white blazer)

a–dick–ted au yes that’s what I’ve decided to call this this was supposed to be just more Yoongi smut but then Jungkook decided he’d like this to be about him, what can you do?

"Can you pick me up tonight?"

"Mhm. What are you wearing?"

A deep chuckle. "Eager to undress me?"

"I'm doing you a favor. There's no guarantee you'll get more than that."

"Hmmm." That low raspy voice did not believe you. "White dress shirt, black jeans. Can't miss me."

He hung up.

White shirt, black jeans. You remembered to lock your car doors this time, so you turned around to press the button so he could get in. The door opened and the young man slid inside, reeking of alcohol. Wait. Some kind of belt harness around a thin waist. Ashy blond hair. Hand tattoos. Thick thighs. Chiseled jaw.

Fuck!

Again?

"I need to talk to you, noona."

"Get out."

Jeon Jungkook was not as drunk as before. He was definitely drunk, but not piss drunk like last time. His eyes were unfocused and he was nervously biting his pink lower lip. The mole underneath bounced up and down as he chewed it mercilessly. He swallowed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular pecs. Oh, thank the Lord, Jungkook remembered to wear a shirt underneath, although it was a very low-cut white t-shirt. He kept running his hand through his currently blond hair tensely, revealing the shadow root. Well, it was well done at least. He had a good hairstylist. You hadn't realized Jungkook changed it, so he must have done it recently.

Probably to get attention and remind every human being that he was hot.

Blergh.

You still weren't convinced he wasn't a dirty little fuckboy.

"Why are you sitting in my car showing off your nervous ticks?" you said irritably.

"I gotta ask you something."

His black boots were a little dirty from the party. Outside, the drunks were as loud as ever, with the same seven girls on the porch craning their heads to gawk at Jungkook in your car. Different house, same scene, and drunk Jeon Jungkook sitting in your passenger's seat, once again being the wrong guy sauntering into your car.

Where the fuck was the correct guy?

"Look, psycho, fucking spit it out or yeet. I'm not repeating what happened last time."

Jungkook's dark brown eyes flickered to you, turning his body to face yours. Running his tattooed right hand through his bleached hair over and over, spreading the golden strands, the ashy tone catching the low light of the lampposts. Jaw flexed, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking his lips. He was a little sweaty, cheeks hollowed in a little with how hard he was breathing.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You have ten seconds before I kick you out and believe me when I say I have leg strength."

"Are you and Yoongi-hyung dating?" Jungkook asked suddenly.

What?

"What?"

You made a face at him.

He sucked in a breath, brows furrowing at your response. “Because I could have sworn…”

Your mind flickered back to that faithful night. Shit. You shouldn’t have let Min Yoongi convince you to sleep right there in Jungkook’s apartment. You remembered his wicked smirk, his deep, raspy voice in your ear, Jungkook’s not going to know and don’t you want to do bad things with me? Don’t you want to be bad with me? He could make you do anything at this point. You two fell asleep on Jungkook’s bed. Next to hungover Jungkook.

Naked.

You mentally slapped yourself.

“What made you come to that conclusion?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook tilted his head, sucking in his cheek. It made a sharp sound and his tongue flashed against his white teeth for a split second. You almost flinched. He pursed his lips and kept his gaze on you. You were wearing a tight white high-necked crop top, oversized black hoodie, and high-waisted black shorts. Dark pink and violent violet chunky sneakers. Almost no makeup. Hair tied back into low pigtails with one pink and one purple scrunchie to match your sneakers.

Oh shit. The hoodie wasn’t yours.

Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t perceptive enough to figure that out.

“Noona.”

He said it strangely, breathlessly. Almost sexually. You recoiled a little. Jungkook was leaning forward, giving you a clear view down his shirt, blond hair falling into his face, covering one eye. His alcoholic breath floating towards you, far too close for your liking.

“I…” Jungkook swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want… to…”

The door to your passenger’s seat was roughly yanked open.

Jungkook jumped, throwing his back into the seat, brown eyes wide and staring at the newcomer. White dress shirt, two sizes too big, with ties at the wrists to cinch in the bishop-style sleeves. Black jeans, distressed with several mismatched patches. Silver chains on his black leather belt and around his pale neck. Black hair, pointed dark eyes like a cat.

A single, cocked eyebrow.

“Let me guess,” drawled Min Yoongi, the correct guy you were supposed to be picking up, looking from you to Jeon Jungkook, who was impossibly flat against the car seat. Yoongi sounded amused. “He just waltzed in.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, I locked my doors this time.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, who still seemed mildly terrified, and then back to you. The glint in his dark brown eyes was far from innocent. His fair cheeks were a little pink.

“Ah, so you wanted Jungkook in your car?” There was an edge to his voice, almost dangerous, but to you it was Yoongi’s usual teasing. Jungkook looked like he was preparing for his own death. Both of you ignored him for the moment.

“You said white dress shirt and black jeans,” you scowled. You gestured Jungkook up and down. “Hello?”

Jungkook’s thighs tensed and bulged against his tight jeans. Eyes still as wide as saucers. He hadn’t blinked in a good thirty seconds.

“We have the same excellent taste and style. How fortunate for you,” Yoongi purred. Then he finally patted Jungkook’s thigh, making him start and let out a panicked squeak. “You want noona to drop you off, Jungkookie? She’d be happy to.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you gritted out.

“Yes, she would,” Yoongi said cheerfully. He slammed the front car door and opened the backseat. You rolled your eyes and stared straight ahead. Even from here you could smell the whiskey. Yoongi hummed and you snuck a glance at him through the rearview mirror.

He looked positively beside himself with glee.

Hmph. Fine.

His loss.

“You bleached your hair, Jungkook?” Yoongi said absentmindedly as you started up the car.

Jungkook ran a hand through it once again. “Uh, yeah. What do you think, hyung?”

“Hm, looks good. Too much upkeep for me, personally. Seatbelt.”

Jungkook hastily went to grab his seatbelt and put it on. Too bad. You were ready to brake hard and send him flying out the windshield. Just kidding. Maybe. Well, you would have to be going real fucking fast for that to happen. Maybe over ninety or some shit. You pulled out of the neighborhood of houses, already knowing what direction to go in to the correct apartment complex. Yoongi and Jungkook lived in the same building.

So convenient.

You thinned your lips into a line, ignoring their conversation, until Yoongi snapped his fingers and called your name to get your attention. You glared at him through the rearview mirror. Yoongi’s legs were wide open, flopped in your backseat. He grinned at you and placed his hands on the inside of his jean-covered thighs.

Fucking tease.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair at some point?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

Jungkook sat up, looking at you. You didn’t look at him. “Oh? You’re going blond too?”

You snorted. “I said I wanted to dye my hair, which means a color.”

“What color?” Yoongi asked lazily.

Your eyes flickered to him in the rearview mirror again. He flexed his long fingers and pressed them against his jeans. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. Yoongi was aware Jungkook couldn’t see him and he was also aware you were watching him. Your eyes went back to the road.

Yoongi was also aware that because of Jungkook’s presence, neither of you were getting any tonight, so he resorted to teasing you like the bad boy he was.

“I dunno. Pick one for me,” you said impassively.

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, husky sound, revealing his pink gums and straight white teeth.

“Red.”

“N-noona?”

You curled your lip, looking around you. Ugh. You hated parties like this. So loud, so annoying, so many idiots. You didn’t understand why Yoongi came to these things. It was probably because of his lively friends. Being social like this was probably a great thing, but this was not your scene.

“No time to chat, Jungkook. Have you seen Yoongi?”

Jungkook was flapping his gums at you. He was still blond. He must be keeping up with his hair care because it still looked soft and ashy. It was swept to one side this night. Powder blue dress shirt, tight against his muscular pecs and white slacks that seemed to be choking his thighs. Brave man, wearing white around this much alcohol and lunacy.

You had to admit, Jeon Jungkook had guts looking like a prince to a peasant’s party.

“Where is he?” you muttered. “Kim Seokjin called and told me to get him because he was asleep.”

“U-uh…” Jungkook looked around as you stepped into the party house, your heavy black boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Short black skirt with silver chains and a black hoodie that said ‘WHATCHU MEAN?’ in neon lime green across your chest. Phone and keys in your hoodie pocket. Other than that, you weren’t wearing anything as of note. Oh.

Except.

Your usual ‘fuck off’ mentality.

“I haven’t s-seen him in the past hour,” Jungkook stammered.

“Fat lot of help you are.” You clicked your tongue and moved past him.

“You dyed your hair,” Jungkook blurted suddenly.

You turned your head and looked back at him. “Yeah, so?”

Your hair was now a gradient from a long black shadow root, to dark purple berry, to bright neon red. It was half-tied up with a black scrunchie, a few strands hanging around your face. Jungkook kept staring at it. You raised an eyebrow and turned away from him. Eh, you had no time for this. You needed to grab Yoongi and get the fuck out of here.

“I-I’ll look you help.”

You raised your eyebrows as Jungkook squeezed past you, his hard back pressing against your arm.

“You can’t even speak, you drunkard,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean, I’ll help y-you look, noona,” Jungkook corrected himself, licking his lips nervously, running his right hand through his hair.

He’s hopeless.

Well, better than going alone.

Wordlessly, you followed him throughout the party, opening doors and craning your head over the bodies. So many topless people. Ugh, it was pretty late. By the time you two reached the back of the house, you never wanted to see another nipple ever again. You saw Kim Seokjin at the karaoke machine, blasting eardrums with what you assumed were supposed to be high notes, but, in reality, was simply screaming.

You didn’t even want to walk up to him to ask.

“He might be upstairs,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Lead the way,” you sighed, annoyed this was taking longer than it needed to.

You made your way up the stairs, pressing yourself against the railing to avoid touching people. Kept your hands in your kangaroo pocket and a scowl on your face. Jungkook suddenly stopped and you collided into him. Fuck. Why did he feel like he was made out of rocks? Stupid muscles.

“Hold on.”

Some guy was sprawled all over the middle of the hallway, unconscious.

“I’ll just step over him.”

Jungkook growled. “No. What if he wakes up and looks up your skirt?” He bent over and picked him up, propping him against the wall. You raised an eyebrow. Like anyone cared what was up your skirt besides Min Yoongi. Whatever. If he wanted to play the part of noble prince, you weren’t going stop him. You waited as Jungkook pushed the guy’s chin down to his chest and motioned you to the hall, towards the many doors. Probably mostly bedrooms. You winced. Probably going to see more nipples. And dicks. And pussy.

Sigh.

And, yep, you were right.

Jungkook tried to shield your eyes, but to be honest, he looked way more scarred than you. You merely shook your head and moved on, door to door. Opened one and saw a girl in a tight black dress crawling on a bed, over a guy in a black biker jacket and acid wash jeans. The hole in the knee was so big you could see half of his pale leg. Hmph. Why bother even wearing pants?

You were about to close the door when you paused. Wait. You’ve seen that black mop of hair before. The girl was kissing down his neck, yanking down the white t-shirt and ripping it. You recognized the grunt of sleepy annoyance.

“Get off him.”

The girl shot up; red lipstick smeared from making out with his neck. You stepped inside and jerked your head towards the door. Voice cold and unrelenting.

“Out.”

She furrowed her brows at you. “Who the fuck are you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Dude’s asleep. You shouldn’t take advantage of someone who’s asleep.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” she shot back defiantly.

You snorted inelegantly. “No, he’s not. Don’t be stupid.”

The girl shoved herself off the bed, advancing on you, nasty snarl on her lips. “How would you know? Who do you think you are?”

“Not an idiot,” you barked sharply, completely forgetting Jungkook was behind you, gawking at this entire exchange. You looked her up and down and took a step towards her, the aggravation of the past hour reaching breaking point. All that time spent getting here, not being able to find Yoongi, and then discovering some bitch crawling all over him was pissing you off. Like everyone else, alcohol clung to her like the plague. She was furious, ready to catfight you, although you were pretty sure you were going to win this one because you were sober and your boots were a lot more stable than her tall heels.

“Look here, bitch, leave me and my boyfriend alo–”

You slapped her.

Hard.

Not holding back, not making a sound, just straight up slapped her across the face. The sound was so loud it could be heard over the bass of the music. She nearly crumpled at the force, gasping and choking at air as she stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief, slim hand cradling her face.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you growled. Your voice was absolute zero with how cold it was. “He will never be your boyfriend. Now get the fuck out of my face before I rearrange yours into the next century.”

She squeaked at you.

Your eyes narrowed and you raised your hand again. She bolted, stumbling on her heels, seeing Jungkook staring, opening her mouth to say something, but you made an inhuman, grating noise deep in your throat. Her shaking eyes connected with yours and you cocked your head in the direction of the door, popping your neck loudly.

She scrambled out of there like her life depended on it.

It did, because you had enough at this point.

“Dumb bitch,” you spat, before releasing the tension from your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook’s mouth wide open, deer-in-headlights look on his face. “What?”

“W… Why do you look so hot when you’re angry?”

You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, you are damn hot when you’re angry.”

Deep, raspy voice that made your spine tingle. You turned your head to see Min Yoongi on his elbows, licking his pink lips. He was definitely drunker this time, cheeks flushed. His fair skin on his neck and cheeks were covered in red lipstick marks. You clicked your tongue at him.

“When did you wake up?”

Yoongi smirked.

You frowned.

“Maybe when you slapped her.” His dark eyes glittered in the low light of the bedroom, lips curving higher and revealing his teeth. “Maybe when you got her attention.” Full-on, open-mouthed smirk now, devilish and wicked. “Maybe when you opened the door.”

A muscle in your forehead twitched. You strode over, looking down. Yoongi slowly lifted his head, pink tongue sliding out and tracing his teeth, cocking an eyebrow. You clenched your jaw.

“I like your hair,” Yoongi purred softly. “You took my advice.”

“I didn’t care what color it was,” you responded evenly. “I left the hairstylist do what she wanted.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “She made your hair match your body. Hot and sexy.”

You matched his raised brow. “You saying my hair wasn’t attractive before?”

Crafty dark brown eyes on yours, intoxicating you like whiskey.

“It always needed me to mess it up before it was truly as sexy as you.”

“Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”

Oh right.

Jungkook was still here.

You turned your head to face him. You hadn’t even noticed that he had walked all the way up to the bed, standing next to you. The door was closed. Who closed it? It was also locked. Your brows furrowed and your eyes flickered back to Jungkook. He was watching you, blond hair covering one chocolate orb, pink lips wet and slightly parted. Tan skin radiant in the low light.

“What are you still doing here?”

His visible eye shifted down your body, pausing at your legs and then shifting to Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a neutral expression. The eyes shifted back to you.

“I was going to help you carry him if hyung was still asleep.” His voice had dropped several octaves.

“Well, he’s obviously awake,” you said dismissively.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, more blond hair sliding down, shadowing his face.

“You want me to leave so you can fuck him? Or so he can fuck you?” Jungkook accused.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I told you he liked you.”

You exhaled, shifting your gaze to Yoongi. He was wiping the lipstick off his neck with the collar of his ruined shirt. He looked displeased, nose scrunching as he did so.

“Wanting me to desire him is not the same as liking someone.” You swung your head back to Jungkook, ticking your chin at him. “Isn’t that so, Jungkook?”

There was a moment of silence.

If silence could be bass-boosted music, screaming downstairs, and a bottle smashing somewhere nearby. But in this random bedroom, it was as if time stopped, you staring at Jungkook, Yoongi looking up to witness what was about to unfold, and your slow realization that Jungkook was not answering fast enough.

The younger man shook his blond bushel of hair very, very slowly.

“No, noona.”

His other eye was revealed, both of them trained on you.

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Silence.

He must be joking.

“And there it is, out in the open,” Yoongi mused.

Jungkook continued, hands in his pockets, chest sticking out from under the tight blue dress shirt.

“Hyung knows this. I told him.”

You let out a soft breath. “You know, Jungkook, you could get any bitch in this house.”

“Don’t want a bitch,” Jungkook retorted, dangerous edge to his voice, slipping into his Busan satoori. “Want you, noona.”

He was way too serious to not mean it. You tucked your hands into your hoodie pocket and flicked your head to remove red strands from your face.

"Kinda out of left field, kid," you muttered.

You heard Yoongi sit up on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He shook his shoulders out and hooked his legs over the edge of the bed, sandwiching one of your thighs between his own. His shirt hung down, ruined and covered with red lipstick from where he tried to wipe it off his neck and cheeks. His neck was pink with irritation.

"Not really," Yoongi chuckled. "He's been eyeing you for a while now. You never noticed because you're too busy being crabby."

He wasn't touching you with his hands and insulting your character instead.

"Speak for yourself, grump."

Yoongi squeezed your thigh with his and you involuntarily shuddered at the slight skin on skin contact due to the giant hole in his pants. Shit. Yoongi snickered.

"Are you guys dating?" Jungkook snapped irritably.

"No."

Both Yoongi and you said it at the same time, glaring at each other. Jungkook might as well have been a lamp. You stared deep into those mischievous brown orbs, black hair messy and covering his brows, teasing smile on his lips. Dating wasn’t the word for it. You weren’t sure there was a word for what Yoongi and you were doing. You could tell he didn’t know either.

It wasn’t dating, that’s for sure.

"Did you guys fuck on my bed or not?"

Before you could respond, Yoongi broke your gaze and looked straight at Jungkook. Jungkook's jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes flashing. Yoongi's voice was slipping into his Daegu satoori as well, deepening and slightly slurred from whiskey.

"We did."

You clicked your tongue.

Great. Just great.

"Ate her out and fucked her hard, all over your sheets. Right next to you. She even touched you."

"An accident," you hissed.

Yoongi ignored you. "Her hand slid up your abs and chest." He chuckled. "It was sexy. You have a nice body, Jungkookie."

"Stop telling him this shit." You raised your hand to smack Yoongi in the arm but he whipped his head back to you, grabbing your wrist out of the air. You stiffened at the touch. He turned your palm to face Jungkook and directed his attention back to him.

"This hand, in fact."

Were you surprised? No. That was the game. Push the limits, up the ante. You just didn’t think Yoongi would tell Jungkook something like that. Maybe he wouldn’t if he was fully sober. But Yoongi wouldn’t regret it either. He would roll with the wave, as usual.

You were a little irked that you weren’t the one who took the plunge first.

You finally snuck a glance at Jungkook. His jaw was no longer tense and his cheeks were flushed pink. He raised his head to look at you, blond locks swinging, and you looked away. Fucking Yoongi. Always trying to cause trouble. But that's why you kept fucking him. Because he was always finding ways to make your life interesting.

Maybe you were addicted to the adrenaline he gave you.

Maybe you were just addicted to Yoongi.

You sensed movement. You tried to pull your wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but he held it tightly. You finally looked back to glare at him, only to be greeted by the sight of Jungkook's blue shirt mostly unbuttoned, his sculpted abs and chest fully on display. Your eyes widened, taking a step back, realizing how close he was. Yoongi yanked you back, grin on his lips.

A beat passed.

Your gaze locked with his.

Don't you dare, Min Yoongi.

He planted your hand on Jungkook's torso.

You tried to twist away, but Yoongi held you there, pressing your palm into Jungkook's hard muscles. The younger man sucked in a breath, surveying you through his lashes. A strange shiver traveled from your hand to your spine, pooling down to your core, setting it aflame. Yoongi slid your hand up to Jungkook's pecs. You could feel how hot and heavy Jungkook's breathing was on the back of your hand. His heartbeat raced under your fingers.

You gulped.

"Yoongi." Your eyes were on Jungkook and his blown-out pupils, blond bangs all over his forehead. Your pulse roared in your ears. "You said he was sappy. That it had to be the love of his life."

Yoongi chuckled.

"Noona," Jungkook replied for him in his husky voice. "I’ve been planning for it to be you."

Your eyes flickered back to Yoongi. His other arm slid around your legs, pulling you to him. He made you breathless, looking down into those devilish eyes, pink lips parting a little. You could feel his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin, making you tremble with his touch.

"He asked you to take it," Yoongi purred softly.

You inhaled deeply. Whiskey. Leather. Yoongi. Your hand was still on Jungkook's chest. You dug your nails into his skin a little. Jungkook moaned, breathy and deep.

"I'm not taking anything," you whispered.

Yoongi's hand released your wrist and slid up the back of your hand, each of his long fingers sliding between yours, pressing your joined touch into Jungkook’s chest. Fingers spread over his skin, his breathing vibrating though your palm. All Jungkook had to do was take a step back.

Why wasn't he taking a step back?

Yoongi squeezed your fingers with his. You could feel the heat building inside you. Desire. His voice became smokey. Lustful. Purring your name softly.

He could make you do anything when his voice became like that.

"I'm telling you to take it."

Your mouth went dry.

"Why?"

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his chin right between your covered breasts. So close. Your heartbeat fluttered. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so very much. You wanted to kiss that naughty mouth, the mouth suggesting sinful and treacherous ideas. Whenever you were with Yoongi, danger always seemed like a good thing.

"Because you feel good when you do bad things."

God, Min Yoongi was a bad boy.

"And I love watching you do bad things."

Dark orbs glittering with trouble.

"I’m here with you."

I’m here with you.

His arm around your legs tightened. Your panties were absolutely soaked. Yoongi had you right where he wanted you. He knew it too, even as you pursed your lips. Yoongi finally looked away from you.

"You don't mind that, right, Jungkookie?"

Jungkook shook his head quickly. "No, hyung. Whatever..." He paused, knowing what he was about to say was wrong. His eyes flickered to you. You didn’t look at him. You just stared at the black pile of hair that was Min Yoongi.

Wondering what was going on in that head of his.

"Whatever it takes."

Yoongi removed his hand from Jungkook’s chest. You pulled yours back quickly, still not looking at Jungkook. Yoongi placed his large hands on your hips. Raised his head. Fuck. Trapping you in his devious eyes. He mouthed words at you. So sexy. So fuckable. You mouthed words back. You’re bad. Yoongi grinned, licking his teeth.

“Stand in front of us, Jungkook.”

And Yoongi spun you around to face him, pushing you into his arms. Jungkook’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. And, for once, Jungkook wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t stumbling into your car by mistake, he wasn’t reeking of alcohol and nervous ticks. If anything.

Jungkook smelled good.

You were staring into his tan chest. Slowly, you looked up. Up his pecs, up his prominent collarbones, up his shapely neck. You could smell the cologne, fresh like clean laundry mixed with the sharpness of the sea. Your eyes continued up, up his sharp jaw, up to the tiny mole under his lower lip, up to his high cheekbones, up into those chocolate orbs. His blond hair hovered over his eyes, shrouding them with gold. Jungkook sucked in a breath as you made eye contact. You cocked an eyebrow.

“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”

Jungkook licked his lips, leaning in.

“Has to be you, noona,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips.

For some reason your heart was beating fast now. Was it Yoongi’s hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them? Or was it Jeon Jungkook, pupils dilated and grip tight on your arms, nearly shirtless in front of you?

“I dream about you,” Jungkook breathed. “All the time. The only woman I’ve ever dreamed about touching me, teasing me, feeling all of me.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “I had sex dreams before, but none of them felt real. None of them were like the ones I had with you. The ones with you were always extremely detailed. It was like all the things you did were really happening. I could finish with them.”

You didn’t have to guess what that meant.

“I could feel everything.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, ash blond strands mixing with dark red.

“Your nails digging into my skin, you moaning above me.”

His eyes burned with determination. Yoongi’s hands slid up your legs, fingertips sliding under your soaking panties. You were so distracted by Jungkook’s words that you barely felt it. But your body remembered. Your body remembered that orgasm right above Jungkook, Yoongi’s tongue inside you, your hand on his abs, nails curling into them as you came. Jungkook’s voice was so low that it felt as if your heartbeat was resonating with it.

“Make my dreams real.”

Yoongi circled your clit with his index finger, not touching it, making you gasp.

“Taint me, noona,” Jungkook murmured.

You pressed your lips against his and Yoongi pressed his finger against your clit. You whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth, hand slipping inside his shirt to hold his waist, kissing him deeper. Jungkook’s hand came up to cup your face, holding you close as you moaned, feeling Yoongi stroke your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, working you up. His other hand was holding your ass, squeezing it hard. In comparison, Jungkook’s lips were soft, tongue hesitantly sliding into your lips. You latched around it, sucking on it roughly. Jungkook squeaked, trying to pull away, but you held on, tugging as you bobbed your head back and forth, eyes cracking open as you moaned deep in your throat.

Jungkook was staring at you, fascinated.

You released his tongue and snaked yours into his mouth. Pushing it in, sliding it back out, steadily and deliberately. Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered, pressing his body into yours, needy cries in his chest, trying to get more. Pleasure spread throughout your hips, spurred upward by Yoongi’s touch. You felt heady and tense, increasing the force you were using to fuck Jungkook’s mouth, breathing in shallow gasps, closing your eyes again, so close, so close. So wrong, making out with Jungkook as Yoongi stimulated your clit to orgasm.

So wrong, but so, so fucking good.

You sucked your tongue back and moaned directly into Jungkook’s mouth as you came, legs shaking, clit throbbing against Yoongi’s fingers as your panties soaked even more, the scent of sex suddenly prominent in this random bedroom. Jungkook gasped, body shuddering and shaking at your exhale, roughly shoving you into his hard chest. Your crotch hit his and you could feel his erection through his tight pants.

The party kept thriving, bass booming the walls, blind to the events about to unfold.

Jungkook drew back, panting. You felt Yoongi withdraw his hand, heard him lick it off. But you were staring at Jungkook, at his swollen lips, at his blue shirt half-pulled off from your touch, revealing his right shoulder covered in black tattoos, blond hair covering half his face.

Beautiful and dangerous, like an angelic incubus.

You felt Yoongi’s hands on your hips again, unzipping your skirt. Slipping it down. Your body reacted, kicking it away. Jungkook’s eyes were fixated on your black panties, pushed to one side from Yoongi’s touch, soaked with your juices.

“Take off your shirt, Jungkook,” Yoongi said as he reached down to unzip your boots.

Jungkook yanked his shirt out of his pants and tossed it aside, watching Yoongi slowly strip you. Taking your boots and setting them next to the bed, gripping your hoodie and yanking it over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, but he dumped it next to him, showing you the phone and keys were still in the center pocket. You frowned at him, but Yoongi shrugged, unhooking your black bra. You held onto it, covering yourself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Let him see the tits.”

You clicked your tongue. Then you turned back to face Jungkook, challenging him.

“Jungkook can come and see for himself.”

Jungkook swallowed, taking a step towards you. Chewing on his lip, eyes fixated on your hands holding up your bra. You felt Yoongi’s fingers hook around the sides of your panties. Jungkook stopped right in front of you. Reached forward and gripped one of the bra cups. You held tight, not letting go. Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he yanked at it, pulling it out of your grasp.

You lowered your hands.

“Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “They’re prettier than I thought.” His hand raised, but then he stopped, looking at you hesitantly. “Can I… touch them?”

You arched a brow. “Never touched tits before?”

“I want to ask you,” Jungkook replied softly. “I want to know you want it too.”

Chocolate eyes framed in gold, enchanting you.

You reached up and took his wrist, guiding his hand to your chest. You were breathing hard, making them bounce a little. Pressed his palm into your hard nipple, shivering at the different hand, the different feeling. You felt Yoongi slide your panties down, down. You slid Jungkook’s hand down, wrapping his fingers around your nipple. He gasped, rolling the nub between his fingers, watching your face as you moaned, Yoongi’s fingers crawling between your legs once again.

You pointed to your other nipple.

“Mouth, here.” Stared into Jungkook’s ravenous eyes. “Please.”

Jungkook bent down and licked your nipple, coating it with saliva. Your hand slid up the back of his head, tangling in the soft blond locks, pulling him closer.

“More, Jungkook…”

He whimpered your name, pinching your nipple as you said his. You gasped softly as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking lightly, tongue pressed against the tip and moving it around, rubbing the other at the same time. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you felt Yoongi slide two fingers into you, so easy because he had made you cum beforehand, fucking you as Jungkook made out with your tits. You stared down Jungkook’s muscular back, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Your hips bucked in Yoongi’s hand, leaning forward so he could finger you deeper, shoving your nipple into Jungkook’s mouth. He sucked hard, nipping lightly, and you threw your head back, pleasure flowing all over. Jungkook switched sides and hands, rubbing your wet nipple with his thumb as he teased the other, flicking the hardened nub with his tongue. Rougher, matching Yoongi’s pace in your pussy, shoving his fingers so far into your pussy that you felt his knuckles.

Yoongi against your back, purring your name.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, low and raspy. “Cum all over my hand as Jungkook abuses your nipples.”

Fuck, his satoori, his words.

Yoongi had you wrapped around his fingers in all senses.

“Mm, fuck, fuck…”

You moaned loudly as you came, legs shuddering, rutting your breasts into Jungkook’s face as your hand pressed him into your tits, grinding your hips into Yoongi’s hand as your pussy clenched around his fingers, drenching them with your orgasm once again. Jungkook moaned into your chest, burying his nose into your tits, tongue pressed against your skin.

“Ah, fuck, you taste so good, noona…”

Yoongi chuckled, slowly pulling his fingers out of you.

“You haven’t tasted anything, Jungkook.”

And then Yoongi fell back against the bed, taking you with him. You had to release Jungkook’s head, whining at the loss of his warmth. Yoongi dipped his knees down and shoved them between your thighs, spreading them wide. He slid you down his body, forcing you to expose your wet pussy to Jungkook’s wide, voracious eyes.

“Have a taste.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you. At this point, it was doomed. You wanted Jungkook’s tongue and your needed it now. Your voice was grating, tainted with lust.

“Get on your knees and taste me, Jungkook,” you growled.

Jungkook obeyed immediately, kneeling before you and crawling up to your thighs, extending his pink tongue, nearly drooling. Chocolate eyes watching your face.

Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into your lips.

You grunted in protest, but then Jungkook’s tongue touched your wet slit, lapping greedily as he watched Yoongi’s fingers slide in and out of your mouth. You moaned around them, licking off your taste as Jungkook moaned into your pussy, coating his tongue with your sweet, thick juices.

“O-oh, fuck, hyung, noona…” he panted hotly into your core. “Tastes so fucking good.”

“Told you,” Yoongi chuckled triumphantly, slowly fucking your mouth.

“Wanna be in here so bad, hyung…”

You make a gargled noise around his fingers and he pulled them out, humming in his chest so your head vibrated with the sound.

“I’m not taking him raw,” you gasped out as Jungkook’s tongue swiped over your clit. Your breathing hitched as he lapped at it experimentally and he continued after witnessing your reaction. Your hand slid down and gripped Yoongi’s wrist, moan torn out of you as Jungkook’s licking intensified. Almost too much, forcing you to tighten your core, juices leaking out of your slit and onto his chin.

“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

Your jaw tightened as you neared orgasm. Of course, Yoongi came prepared.

“You planned this.”

“Did I?”

Far too amused and teasing to be innocent. Your back arched as Jungkook increased the suction, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest, barely being able to see him upside down, mouth open as you panted. Yoongi smirked at you.

“Or did I simply assist little Jungkookie in convincing noona to take his virginity?”

His words and your orgasm hit you like a truck, hands flying up to grip Yoongi’s shoulders as you nearly screamed Jungkook’s name, thighs threatening to clamp his head if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s strong legs spreading them out. Your body fell limp onto Yoongi’s chest, flooding Jungkook’s mouth with your orgasm. Jungkook groaned, drinking it up, hands coming up to hold your hips down as he sucked it out of you.

“Not all of it, Jungkook,” Yoongi warned. “Keep her wet for you.”

Jungkook whined, drawing back, lips shiny and glossy with your cum. His pink tongue snaked out, swiped over his lips, scooping it all into his mouth, the action obscene and arousing all at once.

“Fuck, noona’s pussy tastes so good…”

Yoongi lifted your limp body and dragged you up the bed, placing his head on the pillows and positioning you on top of him. You scoffed, back and ass pressed against Yoongi’s still fully clothed body.

“You want him to fuck me on top of you?”

“Of course,” Yoongi answered smugly. “I can help him get into position and he can get back at me for fucking you on top of him.”

“You didn–”

Yoongi pinched your nipples, cutting you off as he flicked the sensitive nubs, turning you into a moaning mess in seconds. Your legs tried to close, but once again Yoongi hooked his around yours and spread them out for Jungkook, who was stripping off his pants. Your eyes widened seeing Jungkook’s cock straining against his boxer briefs. Yoongi had a great dick. The best dick. But Jungkook had never been in a woman before and he was impossibly hard because of it, gasping as he pushed his underwear down, leaking pre-cum everywhere. Either that or he really was very, very turned on by you.

For the first time throughout this entire night, it really hit you that Jungkook actually liked you. That he was not a fuckboy and he genuinely wanted you to take his virginity, so much so that, somehow, he convinced Yoongi, your partner-in-crime, your other half in this long-winded sexual escapade of pushing each other closer and closer to the edge, until one of you fell.

Yoongi clasped his hands around your upper arms, sucking in an excited breath.

Your breathing caught in your throat.

Or maybe.

Maybe both of you had already fallen.

And both of you were twisted enough to be ridiculously turned on by Jungkook crawling onto the bed, eyes glazed with desire, desperate to fuck you. Yoongi tapped your arm and pressed a condom into your palm.

“Put it on him.”

You motioned Jungkook forward and he scooted up, sucking in his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath quivered as you ripped open the condom, reaching awkwardly to roll it down his thick cock. You inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth against your fingers. Your eyes flickered up to him and he swallowed, chest rattling nervously.

“H… How do I…?”

“Hands on the bed,” Yoongi said behind you. Jungkook placed his hands on the bed, on either side of Yoongi’s arms, next to your head. He stared into your eyes. You placed your hands on his hips and scooted him down so he was positioned above you.

“Give me one of my legs, Yoongi,” you said softly, still keeping eye contact. Yoongi let go of your right leg and you raised it, Jungkook moving his hand so you could place your calf on his shoulder.

“Do I just…?”

“Down.”

He missed.

“Try again,” Yoongi whispered gently. “Hyung will help you.”

Jungkook chewed on his lip and lowered his hips again, gasping as Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his cock and led him to your pussy. You lifted your hips so Yoongi could see better. The head pressed against your entrance.

“A-ah…” you breathed. “There.”

“Push,” Yoongi instructed.

Jungkook slowly slid in. He winced. “She’s too tight.”

“Relax,” Yoongi chided you. “He’s not me. He can’t handle all that yet.”

“I am,” you shot back. “He’s not pushing hard enough.”

Yoongi huffed. “Fine. Shove it all in there, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Won’t that hurt you?”

Instead of waiting for Yoongi to answer, your hands came up and grabbed Jungkook’s hips, forcing his cock deep into you. He yelped at the sudden rush of pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head. You held him down, not letting him move, trying very hard not to tighten around his dick because, holy fuck, Jeon Jungkook had a nice cock, filling you up and stretching you out with his hardness, unforgiving and wonderful, reminding you of Yoongi’s.

Except, well, Yoongi usually didn’t look like he was going to pass out.

You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh. Yoongi pinched your arm, already knowing your reaction. You hissed, pulsing around Jungkook’s cock. The younger man moaned, lowering his head, blond hair falling like a curtain. His eyes found yours. Jungkook’s gaze so intense it made your shiver, nails digging into his hips.

Outside the locked bedroom door, someone was yelling at someone else about cheating or something frivolous like that.

“You can move whenever you’re ready, Jungkook,” Yoongi finally said.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you interjected.

“Shh, don’t complain.” Yoongi’s hand stroked your red hair, flaring it out on his chest. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Your chest tightened.

You felt yourself get wetter around Jungkook’s cock.

“What did you say to me?” you breathed. One of your hands lowered from Jungkook’s hip and gripped Yoongi’s wrist tightly. The tone of your voice changed, not quite so harsh anymore, turning needy and thin, breathless. Jungkook was watching you curiously. You felt your ears heat.

Yoongi’s free hand slid around your waist. You couldn’t see his face, but you saw Jungkook’s eyes slide upwards, observing his hyung. A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in those dark brown eyes. Yoongi cupped your breast, stroking your nipple lightly. Shallow, tight breaths, waiting for Yoongi’s response.

“I said,” Yoongi drawled. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Why were you suddenly so horny? It suddenly got so hot, suddenly so aware you were sandwiched between Jeon Jungkook’s hard dick and Min Yoongi’s fully clothed body, and Jungkook was going to fuck you into this random bed and into Yoongi himself. So very wrong. So very bad.

And you wanted it.

Jungkook raised his hips and pushed back into you, clenching his jaw. You were so wet that it was easy, not enough for your sudden hunger.

“Not too far,” Yoongi instructed. “You’re going to fall out if you pull out too far.” Yoongi nudged your hip. “Up.” You raised your hips and pressed your thigh against your chest. “Jungkook, angle yourself higher.”

Jungkook shifted and got more on his knees. “Like this?”

“Mhm. Go harder.”

Jungkook slapped his hips into you and you gasped, pressing your head into Yoongi’s chest. He stopped, looking worried.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you su–?”

“Jungkook,” you snarled. “Listen to him and just fuck my damn hole so I can get off.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your dirty words. Yoongi chuckled.

“She’ll be fine, Jungkook. Focus on yourself for now. Don’t go faster or you’ll cum too fast,” Yoongi cautioned. “At least for the first time. Go harder so you can feel it all.”

Jungkook bit his lip and began to slowly, but roughly, fuck you. Smacking your hips together with force, gasping at every descent, your pussy squeezing the full length when it was inside you. His gasps turned into moans, your breathy name, eyes closing as he thrust into you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, she’s so wet, so tight…”

“Like your dreams?” Yoongi teased.

Jungkook seemed not to notice. “Better. Fuck, so much better, hyung, oh my God…”

“Harder,” Yoongi commanded. “I know you can go harder, Jungkookie.”

You moaned deeply as Jungkook rammed his hips into you, the wet squelch loud and lewd, so obvious if someone was listening outside, even through the music. But none of you cared, none of you noticed the bed squeaking as Yoongi spurred Jungkook on gently, having him increase the pace, making your body shudder with pleasure, mouth opening and tongue hanging out as you gasped for breath.

“You wanna cum, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, becoming hard under you as you cried out in pleasure, the base of Jungkook’s cock splattered with your juices.

“Not yet,” Jungkook whined.

“Alright, stop for a second.”

Yoongi placed a hand on Jungkook’s waist and pushed him all the way into you. You whimpered, so close to orgasm but cut off by Jungkook stopping, clenching around his cock as the head hit you deep inside.

Yoongi dropped his voice, speaking to you.

“Give him a hug.”

You gripped Jungkook’s cock and pulsated around it. Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed against your walls, roughly massaged by your pussy.

“Oh, fuck me…”

Jungkook began to move again, harder and faster now, lost in his lust, chasing his pleasure.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” Yoongi purred to you. Your heartbeat skipped as Jungkook pounded you into Yoongi, biting your lip hard and whimpering as he fucked you mercilessly, lack of practice making it an erratic rhythm, watching his thick cock pump in and out of you, so good, so rough, using you.

Your name drifted from Yoongi’s lips, smokey and devious, driving you insane. Your head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, gasping as Yoongi’s words worked into you.

“You love it, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled. “You love Jungkook using you, fucking you like his own personal gloryhole, hm?”

Oh, fuck.

You whined pathetically, liquid gushing down Jungkook’s cock as you came, core tightening, Jungkook fucking you harder, grunting as he clenched his jaw, feeling you massage his length harshly. Yoongi pinched your nipples, lengthening your orgasm, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses, consuming you, feeling nothing but Jungkook’s cock, Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi’s words corrupting you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy letting Jungkook use you like this,” Yoongi growled. “So generous, letting Jungkook fuck your tight little hole with his big cock, hm?” He rolled your nipples in his fingers and rubbed them hard.

“A-ah, Yoongi!”

“No, no,” Yoongi scolded, pinching them firmly and making your squeal. “Tell Jungkook how good he’s doing. Tell him how good he feels inside you, naughty girl.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s sweaty face, brows furrowed, jaw tight as he smacked your hips together over and over, veins popping in his neck and forehead. His cock was jerking inside you, close. So close.

“F-fuck, Jungkook,” you gritted out, feeling Yoongi release your nipples and bounce your tits in time with Jungkook’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’ve doing so good, can’t believe this is your first time, you’re so fucking strong and so fucking big, fuck…”

Jungkook’s dark eyes fixated on you, your bouncing tits, your open mouth, your glazed eyes, hips fucking him back as he fucked you.

“It’s because you have the perfect pussy, noona,” he growled, leaning down, pressing you into Yoongi, getting a deeper angle, nearly hitting your cervix. His breath was hot and erotic against your face, eyes flickering up to Yoongi before boring into yours, capturing you, dragging into his pace and his cock slamming into your hips.

“The perfectly tight little gloryhole for me to use.”

You cried out, something inside you snapping, cumming again all over Jungkook’s cock, your juices sliding down your thighs and his thighs, smearing into Yoongi’s jeans, dripping everywhere, so much, oh, God, so fucking intense that your pussy clamped around Jungkook’s cock. He moaned your name right into your face, thrusting one last time, pumping the condom full, stretching it out against your walls, so much you could feel it and his cock throbbing against your walls, trying to get it all out.

Yoongi didn’t even bother to ask. He simply reached down and pushed Jungkook back a little, feeling for the bottom of the condom and pushing him out of you. Jungkook whined, but Yoongi pulled you away from him.

“It’s too much,” Yoongi mumbled. “How long have you been holding out? Fuck…”

He pulled the condom off him and it was still dribbling out. Yoongi grabbed your hand and wrapped it around Jungkook’s cock, holding you in place with his. You were too tired to focus, too exhausted to realize what was going on.

Yoongi began to pump Jungkook with your hand, slowly. He was still so hard, veins imprinting into your palm, cum dripping all over your and Yoongi’s fingers. Jungkook whined, wincing at the sensitivity, but Yoongi was careful, sliding your palm up to the head and squeezing it firmly but not too tightly. Slowly, slowly, bringing Jungkook back down.

“Party’s dying,” Yoongi breathed. “We gotta get out of here.”

You were naked. Jungkook was naked. Your lower back was killing you. Yoongi’s blood alcohol level was far too high to drive even if he sounded sober. You sucked in a breath and shoved your face into the unknown sheets, groaning.

“Give me a minute, fuck.”

Shit, you just wanted to sleep.

third act. was it a dream a–dick–ted au

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoonkook smut #yoonkook x reader #bts smut #yoongi x you #jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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marvellovegalore · 3 years

Text

Breaking You

Chris Evans

Parte Deux - Hurting You

Synopsis: You begin to feel the true consequences of you hurting Chris and it's beginning to overwhelm you - and him.

Word Count: 2,483

Author's Note: I listened to quite a few songs to truly get into the vibe of this but The Cinematic Orchestra - To build a home (slowed) really got me into the energy I want to be delivered from this write-up. Happy Reading! Feel free to let me know how you feel!

Warning: Explicit Language, Mention of Mental Illness, Sexual Content

You’ve rarely had to consider yourself as someone who runs from her problems. You’d probably proudly tell anyone that asked that you quite confidently tackle your problems head-on.

However, you’ve created quite a serious problem for yourself. A broken heart.

What you have periled numerous men with, is now afflicting you. The odd thing is, is that you are exulting in it. It’s an oddly familiar sensation; it drowns your body in an intangible sickness that paralyses and asphyxiates you.

You sit at your piano, watching the silent and unmoving countryside. The fields of Portofino showered with golden sunlight, the brio reflecting into your room.

You haven’t pushed aside the sheer curtains since you arrived four days ago. You’ve taken your first shower this morning, the water sinking you into its comforting, warm embrace. You don’t really want to tell yourself aloud why you chose to come back to your grandparents’ old house, when stuff is going wrong. You’ve decided that playing the piano and smoking your days away is better than confronting yourself in the mirror - good thing all the furniture is covered with sheets. The sorry state of your face would make you plunder even deeper into your melancholy.

You will yourself to forget him and try to forget his existence.

But it’s virtually impossible, with him promoting a new film three towns over.

Good thing is you feel physically incapable of stepping outside of the confines of the house. The ladies that tend to the house scurry around the town buying food for the house and maintain its upkeep, they attempt to feed you three meals a day or four. You refuse most of the time, and they regard you with concerned gazes.

How could you begin to explain that with breaking a man’s heart, you subsequently had broken your own? His words blistered with bitterness bit you and dragged you down to the same pits of sadness that you plunged him into. You can probably say that you loved him, but you’ll probably truly never grasp why you can’t stay in something that requires such cemented commitment.

“Signora?” Your house governess interrupts your train of thought, you pull your cigarette away from your lips. “Sí?” She presents you with a letter addressed to you. The handwriting vaguely familiar to you. You thank her and dismiss her, the cigarette back in between your lips.

The letter doesn’t inform you of who it is from, but you hope, in the depths of your ribs that it’s from him, but you couldn’t possibly understand why he would ask to meet with you. He left you wordlessly two months ago and hasn’t been in contact since, not even through subliminal messages on social media. You can wager that you’re probably dead to him. It was made clear to you when you stood at the beach outside of your friend’s Malibu compound. He would rather die than get back with you; you don’t blame him.

You turn back to your piano, the keys feeling like lead beneath your shaky fingers. You play out a melancholic tune, your fingers feeling like they’re losing blood, you play clumsily, your eyes welling with tears.

You do have to admit, you feel extremely guilty for leaving him.

Life was beautiful with him.

He would have served you the sun on a platter if it meant making you smile - but you’re meant to destroy beautiful things.

It was what your father told you. You ruined his marriage to your mother; your sheer existence drove her to the brink of insanity. Since you were conceived you were a parasite that took the love your mother had for your father and you guzzled it out of her, taking all of her focus and affection. When you were born your parents refused the diagnosis of postpartum psychosis. Your mother believed you were an angel sent from heaven and doctors were trying to take you from her; so, she slowly succumbed to the madness and your father eventually was forced to send her away. The resentment he felt towards you all but scented the house, you were a poisonous leech, and you were treated as such.

You take the last drag of your cigarette and drag yourself to your walk-in closet, you decide on taking another shower - scrubbing away the odour of tar and smoke. You ready yourself for your strange and mysterious encounter. You dress yourself and half an hour later rush out to your car. The sun is low in the sky by the time you start driving away from the house, the countryside hugging you from all sides.

The drive is long into the town centre. The sky is blushed with pink and tinges of orange. You park your car and take a slow walk to the Splendido Mare; you enter the hotel’s restaurant and are led to a table. Your order a glass of wine and wait. After ten minutes you take out the letter, you read it from start to finish and confirm that the invitation was not a figment of your imagination; you were indeed summoned here by a mystery writer. Whom you hope is him.

You sit for half an hour at your table, you sip your anxiety away through two glasses of wine, you step outside and smoke two cigarettes and yet you’re still waiting. You flit through your phone notifications; you decide against your better judgement to type his name into the Goggle search bar. You fleetingly glance around the sparsely attended restaurant. You lock your phone without looking at the updates about him.

The thought of him makes your chest ache, harshly. The pain is tangible, you place your hands over your chest and wince. Something is not right.

You’re not aware of his slow approach, his hands wringing around each other, his cheeks red with nervous energy. He wishes he had had a shot of something - anything before getting here. He doesn’t recall what filled him the mad inspiration to send you a stamped letter to meet him at his hotel restaurant. He doesn’t know whether he wishes he had just called the brunette and spoken to her tonight; but he misses you. Madly.

He pulls out the chair in front of you. You can both tell that you’re holding in your breath.

Every time you see him it feels like the first time, all over again.

And he feels the same, but for either of you to admit it would be succumbing to defeat. You’re engaged in a silent and unspoken battle of wills.

“You sent me a letter?” You show him the letter. He nods, you sigh. “What is it you want to talk about?” You’re afraid to look into his eyes, they’re huge lakes filled with your dreams and deepest desires.

He hesitates, a ghostly sentence is formed on his tongue – he decides against materialising it. “I heard you were nearby; thought we could catch up.” He motions for the waiter. You narrow your eyes in - almost offence. What does he think, that you’re old pals?

He wants to catch up, but you want to do everything. Mostly profess your adoration for him and make love to him.

You despise the feeling; you’ve never felt like this for anyone. The alien feeling makes you heat up, your chest rises and falls quickly; agony filling your body as if you were a vessel to claim. “Right,” is all you can utter.

“What have you been up to?” He’s ordered two martinis, his eyes connecting to yours. You wince as the pain in your chest returns. How can he be so close yet so far?

“I was filming a fragrance campaign recently.” You speak quickly, an itch to smoke tickling your fingers. He nods, his eyebrows raised high.

“Nice.” He sighs and extends his clasped hands further onto the table. You look even more beautiful than in his thoughts, which he can’t expel you from. It seems your haunting presence is with him to stay, and his imagination can’t do any justice to your face and your intoxicating smell.

The conversation you have over your first drinks is dry, emotionless and full of hidden desires.

After each of you have three cocktails you let out the first laugh. He’s released himself a bit from the shackles of wanting to one-up you, his joke about his dog’s stubbornness reminding you of the good days of domesticity with Christopher and his dog. You move out to the terrace, candles flickering in the wind; you share more laughs. Memories being shared between you about life together.

There’s a clear shared emotion - longing. You crave the late summer nights sharing the dance floor with his friends or yours; him undressing you slowly in your pool; the nights watching the fire pit in your Santa Barbara home; the dinners enclosed in brick walled Italian restaurants with candles illuminating your elated faces.

“Come up with me.” His suggestion is quiet, his lips edging closer to yours. You nod, overcome with emotion. He grips on to your hand, the grip of a man thanking his lucky stars. He leads you to his room, on the top floor. A paradisiacal view of the sea and hills greeting you. The sun has set completely, and the moon casts a pale light over the buildings across the water.

Chris closes the door, and no sooner is he clutching at your lips with his. His hands smother you onto him and you meet him with the same desperation. Your hands slip under his shirt and moan into his mouth, your lipstick smearing over his lips. You feel him inhale your smell; he sighs desperately as he pulls you closer to him. You fall onto the chaise lounge in front of the open doors leading onto his balcony. The wind whispers sweet nothings onto your skins as you meld together, your bodies wanting desperately to be combined. He removes your clothes with familiar precision and your fingers touch him where you know he likes it.

The grooves of his skin are familiar, his dick entering you slowly as your fingers caress his tanned skin. He looks spectacular underneath you, his skin illuminated by the moonlight. You ride him slowly, you lips adventuring each other, like your bodies are each other’s long lost home territory. Your lips touch again, but it feels like the first time all over again. You feel yourself melting, your brain feels high, your limbs terribly relaxed. You guess this is what true love feels like. There’s nowhere else you’d want to be.

You love him. Only him.

He turns you over, on all fours, one hand gripping your throat and the other around your hair. He thrusts into you - with passion, his lips ghost over your shoulder. You feel your eyes close, the strength to fight the sedation unable to be found. It goes on for a while, and he flattens you onto your stomach. He lays on top of you, his hips gyrating against your skin, his arms encircling your torso. You feel safe, his head laying to rest in between you shoulder and jawline. He inhales your scent and kisses your shoulder, his lips printing their mark on your skin.

He turns you over and takes a deep breath, his eyes hold your entire world. They’ve trapped you into his universe and you have no desire to leave. He’s your whole world and you gave him away on a silver platter - but he’s here. He accommodates himself in between your legs and gives you a hug, his lips find yours in the darkness. The moonlight bathes you generously and he nestles himself inside you again. His lips refuse to leave yours; his thrusts grow in fervour; he wants to bury himself inside you and never leave.

He’s so deeply, and madly in love with you.

He can’t believe you hurt him. He hates you for it.

He pulls away from your kiss, his breathing heavy and slightly laboured.

His hides his face in the nook under your head. You feel like crumpling when you feel tears run over your shoulder, you hug him tighter. You want to stitch his wounds closed, tightly with your bare fingers and your lips. You want to mould your bodies together and live forever in this moment. His fingers reach for your clitoris and he makes love to you in two different ways. Your head lolls back and you feel ecstatic, currents washing over you slowly and you orgasm.

Chris kisses you desperately, swallowing your moans. He thrusts into you, complementing your orgasm. He releases himself into you, slowly moaning into your mouth.

After a few moments he stands up from the lounge chair and heads to the shower, as he walks through the door, he turns to you. He smiles in a way that you understand is an invitation to join him in the shower. You stand slowly, your legs feeling like jelly. You join him for a warm shower, peppered with tender kisses and saccharine touches.

Your bodies unconsciously refuse to part until you’re lying in his bed. He turns off the lamp and lays facing you.

A sweet look embalms his irises. His hand lifts itself to nestle under your cheekbone. He regards you softly.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice shaky.

You smile sleepily, “I love you too.”

You’re hypnotised to sleep by his soft breaths.

—

The sunlight reflected on the lake wakes you out of you slumber, the first dreamless one you’ve had in months. You turn to the side where Chris is and find nothing but empty air. You sit up quickly; the room is deadly silent. Nothing but your movements on the bed make noise. You scramble out of the bed and look for him.

There’s no trace of him in the room. You let out small wail of desperation. What if it was all a dream?

You pace the room, an uneasy feeling setting itself in your chest. You feel the space between your ribs tighten and your head feel faint. Your legs feel weak and unsteady, you crumple into a heap near the chaise lounge. Your breath feels constricted, massively so. The world begins to spin, and you fall onto your back.

It feels like a heart attack.

You can barely feel your heart.

You drag yourself to the counsel table, desperate to reach the phone. Your hand misses it massively, instead a hotel branded paper flickers down next to you. You pick it up, the tightness in your chest limiting your movement.

I guess this is goodbye, I can’t get over the fact that I’ll never be able to trust you. No matter how much I want to.

I hate you for ruining us

I’ll miss you, forever.

With all my love,

Parte Quatre -

Tags -

@chvntelle-99, @krispy-toes, @hampass, @calimoi, @saltyflowermakertaco

#chris evans imagine #chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans angst #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #andy barber #andy barber series #andy barber one shot #chris evans blurb #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction

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hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis · 3 years

Text

The Distance Between Us: 01. Escape from Hell

Summary: Alexandria Eaton is the youngest child of Marcus Eaton. What will happen when she defects from Abnegation and decides to follow in her older brother’s footsteps. Can she make it through Dauntless initiation with her secret or will she find herself in the factionless? And what will happen when the most cold-hearted leader takes an interest in her?

Post Date: 05.10.21

Word count: 2.2k

Pairing: Eric Coulter x OC

Masterlist

DBU Masterlist

Warning: child abuse (just this first part)

Today is the day. The day that I get to start my new life away from this hell. It’s the day I take my aptitude test and tomorrow I can leave. Although I already know what I want, I’m still scared of the consequences of my actions. What is my father, Marcus, going to think of me? The factions, are they going to think something is wrong when the second child of the leader of Abnegation defects from her home Faction? I quickly try to get rid of these thoughts and start getting ready for the testing.

I get dressed in a long grey skirt and a tank top. I then put my caramel brown hair in a neat low bun and open the mirror. I check to see if I need to fix my bun and look at myself studying the blue and purple bruises on my arms in the mirror. I leave the mirror open a little longer than I should have, the next thing I know it’s slammed shut.

“Too long,” The raspy voice of my father says.

“Sorry,” I respond quietly.

“You know better, Alexandria,” he says as he grabs my wrist tightly and pulls me from the chair and onto the ground. I stay on the ground while he goes over to grab a belt, afraid of more consequences for fighting back. The next thing I know he’s punishing me for leaving the mirror open too long. All I could feel was pain shooting throughout my body, as he hits me from all angles on my already bruised skin.

“Now finish getting ready, it would be a shame if you were late, representing me and this faction.” He says, with one tight grab of my wrist pulling me up. He expects me to upkeep our reputation since my brother had left and regardless of what happens in our house, I’m not allowed to speak about it. Especially now that Erudite is trying to discredit Abnegation.

I then slowly slip on a loose long sleeve shirt, trying to ignore the pain. I grab my bag and go to meet my best friend, Beatrice Prior, and her brother, Caleb Prior, outside their house. I met her just after my brother had left and she is the closest thing to a real family, she had become my escape and my rock. We knew that no matter what faction we’d choose, we’d be happy for each other. After a few minutes of waiting they finally come outside.

“Hey Alexandria, you ready?” Beatrice says hugging me as I try not to wince.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, you guys?” I respond looking between her and her brother.

“I’m nervous,” Beatrice says.

“ Let me help you with that,” Caleb says, running over to an elderly woman to help her. I follow quickly behind and grab a few items.

“Beatrice, do you wanna get the other bags?” Caleb questions looking over at her.

After helping the elderly women we continue to walk to where the aptitude test is administered. I tune out most of the conversation Beatrice and Caleb are having. We finally arrived at the building and get in line behind the Abnegation doors. While we are waiting in line we hear a boy from Candor talking to a group of kids from Abnegation, although it doesn’t sound like a friendly one. I see the boy shove one of the kids from Abnegation and see Beatrice step forward slightly before Caleb stops her, “Beatrice...Don’t” She looks at me to see if I disagree with him, but I shake my head letting her know it would be a bad idea.

The next thing we hear is a train approaching, signaling that Dauntless has arrived. They’re yelling and shouting while they jump off the moving train. It makes me wonder if that train ever stops. A few moments later the doors open and we were put into rooms. There were kids from all of the five factions, Candor, Dauntless, Abnegation, Amity, and Erudite. Luckily I was in the same room with Beatrice and Caleb, I definitely felt way more comfortable with them.

“One hundred years ago, after the war, our founders created a system they believed would prevent future conflict and create lasting peace. Today, aptitude testing based on your personality will assign you to one of the factions. While it is our belief that choosing the faction indicated by your test is the best way to ensure success within the faction system, it is your right tomorrow at the choosing ceremony to choose any of the five factions, regardless of your test results. However, once the choice has been made, there will be no change permitted.” The woman in front of the room said.

We were then split into smaller groups to go into the testing rooms. Beatrice and Caleb went before me. When their group was done, I only saw Caleb walk back in and Beatrice was nowhere to be found. I was then called up to be tested. Once everyone in my group had gotten to the doors of their room they opened simultaneously. I walked in and I noticed that my test was being administered by a woman from Dauntless. It was no surprise since we can’t be tested by someone from our own faction.

“My name is Tori, have a seat.” She said sounding like she didn’t want to be here. I sit down in the metal chair. Although I’m wearing long clothing I still felt the coldness on my skin. It felt soothing to my bruised skin.

“You'll be offered a series of choices to test your aptitude for each faction until you get one result. 95% get the faction of their origin,” Tori says, explaining how the test works as I sit quietly, trying not to look at myself in the mirror-like walls. She hands me a small glass of blue liquid and gestures for me to drink it. I don’t hesitate to drink it, wanting the test to be over as soon as possible.

I close my eyes and when I open them I find myself in the same room except Tori isn’t there. I got up from the seat and looked around and found two pedestals. One with a knife. The other with a large piece of meat.

“Choose” I hear my own voice say. I study both items but soon enough they both disappear and I hear a dog bark from my right side. I try to calm the dog, but I didn’t have any success. I then think that dogs can sense fear. I calmed my breathing and sat on the ground to get to the dog’s level. The next thing I know the aggressive dog becomes a puppy, I give him a little scratch behind the ear.

I then hear a little girl point out the dog, but when I turn back the puppy had turned back into the aggressive dog it once was. The dog starts to chase the little girl. I run after them and get in between the little girl and the dog. When the dog had jumped onto me, I wake up suddenly from the simulation.

“Shit, not again” I hear Tori whisper. I look at her with a confused look.

“What happened?” I ask her as she guides me to the door.

“Your test results were inconclusive. They were Dauntless, Abnegation, and Erudite. You can’t tell anyone. I manually entered Abnegation as your results” she explains to me in a hushed voice.

“Wait what does that mean?” I question.

“You’re Divergent, you don’t fit in just one faction.” She says and then opens the door and pushes me out.

For the rest of the day, I sat in silence, and not looking forward to going home. I walked with Caleb back to Abnegation since the serum had made Beatrice sick and she left early. I came home to my father sitting in the living room drinking a beer.

“How did the test go?” He asks even though I knew he didn’t genuinely care.

“Fine,” I respond quickly.

“Regardless of your results, you know what faction to choose if you know what’s best for you,” He says as he finishes his beer.

“I know,” I say as I sit across from him knowing this conversation won’t end quickly.

“You know, maybe I should take some precautions. In case you do leave,” Marcus says and he grabs my wrist and drags me to a chair in the dining room. He sits me down and tells me not to move unless I want more consequences.

He rolls up my sleeves, high enough so no one else would notice the marks he leaves. As I look at a few of the previous scars he’s left, he breaks the beer bottle he had just finished against the table making me flinch at the noise of the glass breaking. He picks up a small sharp piece and digs it into my left arm. I let out a small yelp, which causes him to put his hand over my mouth and shove another piece of glass into my leg. He drags it down my leg, it rips my skirt, letting blood bleed into the fabric. I try to keep myself from being audible as my eyes start to tear up from trying to stay silent.

“This is for your brother leaving and for you if you leave too. If you tell anyone about this, just know what will be waiting the next time I see you.” He says menacingly, leaving me sitting teary-eyed with glass stuck in me.

I slowly take out the glass he left in my leg and arm. And clean it up as soon as possible. I head to bed, not caring that I’m still in my bloody clothes. I just can’t wait to leave, regardless of the repercussions. The next morning I was sore after my punishment from the night before making it hard for me to get up and walk. I hear a knock on my door and go to open it.

“We’re leaving in 30 minutes. You better be ready by then. And get rid of those clothes,” Marcus says and walks away.

I change out of my bloody clothes and into a similar set of clothes. I hate the Abnegation dress code. I finish getting ready and wait in the living room for my father. We walk together with the Prior family to the Choosing Ceremony. Beatrice, Caleb, and I walk in silence while our parents talk a bit about their jobs and old family memories. I hate how my father acts all happy and makes us look like we’re a perfect family, it disgusts me how people buy it.

We make it to the choosing ceremony and are sat down next to the Prior Family. A woman from Erudite, Jeannie Matthews, had the honor of the opening speech this year. After her speech, my father went up to call the names of the kids participating in the choosing ceremony. A few kids stayed in their home faction while others left, you could hear the upset parents in the crowd.

Next up was Caleb, he chose Erudite. It was a complete surprise knowing that they have been trying to take control of the government and discredit Abnegation. Then it was Beatrice's turn, she was up there for some time, I could tell that she was struggling to choose what faction to pick. At the last moment, she let her blood drop over the hot coals, which signifies Dauntless. Roars erupted from their side of the room.

A few more kids went up before I heard my father call my name. I slowly got up out of my seat and made my way to the stage. I saw the look in my father's eyes telling me to stay where I am or else. But I didn’t let that scare me. I picked up the knife and cut the palm of my hand, thinking about what happened the previous night. Before I could even process anything, I quickly put my hand over the burning coals and squeezed my hand to let my blood drop as fast as possible. “Dauntless” I hear my father’s voice boom through the auditorium and a few quiet gasps from the crowd. I knew I had made a bad choice for Abnegation, almost confirming for Erudite that Abnegation is not worthy of being the governing faction now that all four children of leaders had left. But I didn’t care, there was nothing good left for me in Abnegation except Beatrice and she had chosen to leave and join Dauntless as well, all I could think about was getting away from him.

I look slightly up and see the face of my father looking like he wants to murder me. I quickly pick up a pad and cover the cut on my hand and make my way to the Dauntless side as they cheered for another one of their newest members. They had opened a seat next to Beatrice for me. I sit down trying to feel relieved that my father can no longer hurt me but I can see him glaring at me from across the room. I was anxious for the ceremony to be over so I can never see his face again.

A/N: Here is the first part of DBU! There isn’t going to be a set schedule for this series, but I will try to update as often as possible. I already have the second part written and that will probably go up later this week. Also, the age for this series is 18, for choosing ceremony (just makes sense), and it will be based on the movies solely. I'm not sure how far i'll go into this series, but i will at least complete the first movie. Please lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks for reading!

#beatrice prior #caleb prior #abnegation #eric coulter imagine #dauntless #marcus eaton #divergentDBU

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wing-ed-thing · 3 years

Text

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part III)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 1,987

Warnings/Tags: Shy!Reader, Slight!Iruka x Reader, Fem!Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: Bruh I just want to write Fraternizing and Spineless and never stop. IT’S GETTIN’ JUICY UP IN HERE.

@exquisitex113 @tiktoktheclockisticking

He told you that you didn’t have to go, in all sincerity. You looked into his deep brown eyes and sighed. He wouldn’t hold it against you if you decided you didn’t feel comfortable going, but you could feel the guilt already starting to creep up on you. And inwardly sighing, you knew exactly what you had to do.

“Yeah, of course I’ll go.” Iruka looked slightly taken aback. After all, it wasn’t too long ago since you had turned down his last invitation to go out, but this time was different.

“Are you sure?” He asked and your tired eyes met his, yielding.

“Yeah, I’m sure. What kind of friend would miss another friend’s birthday?” Iruka laughed nervously. You could tell from the expression he wore that he didn’t expect your answer. He reached up to scratch at the scruff of his neck. A few strands of hair fell from the back of his ponytail.

“You know I’m not trying to guilt trip you, you know?” He said, “I just didn’t want you to feel like I wasn’t including you.” You glanced down to the side before meeting his eyes again.

“Do you not want me to come?” You questioned softly, lips slightly puckered as your eyebrows wrinkled your forehead. Panic overtook Iruka as he looked into your wide eyes.

“No, no, no, no!” He waved his hands in front of his body defensively before one hand returned to the back of his head. “I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable, that’s all. And that you’re not feeling forced to go, ‘cause I know last time…” He trailed off. You bowed your head in understanding.

“I know what I said, but believe me, I’m happy to celebrate with you.” The corners of your lips tugged upward, subtly forced. “Besides, we keep saying how we never have a chance to catch up and how it’s been so long.” Iruka gave a slow nod, not completely convinced. You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile. “Really, it’ll be fine. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“If you say so.” Iruka let out a small laugh again. He had always been a nervous smiler. “I’ll see you there?”

“Sure thing.” You answered and both walked separate ways.

Once turned, you let a restrained shiver work its way down your spine. Anxiety followed you like a cloud hovering over your head. Not many people confronted you about the events that had happened a few months before, but you had also hardly left your apartment. You didn’t mind staying holed up inside with your extensive library, but now you were faced with what you feared most. You sighed, making your way up the steps of your building. You had no idea how you were going to handle this one.

Jiggling the knob of your modest studio, you were surprised to see that your stray cat of a companion wasn’t present. The window, per usual, remained open. You dropped your jacket on the small dining table before pulling open your wardrobe.

Of your options were neatly ironed uniforms lined up in an orderly line and practically nothing more. You looked down at the bottom. Work sanctioned shoes stared back at you. The room became a tinge darker. You closed the door, turning around to see Kabuto lounging on your bed. The comforter of your well made bed wrinkled under him. The curtains were drawn closed.

“I’m going out tonight.” You blurted. Kabuto blinked a few times, staring at you otherwise blankly.

“No hello?” He snorted. Your fingers interlaced in front of you and you nervously began to rock on your heels.

“I just wanted you to know, because I won’t be here to make dinner.”

Your voice jumped an octave, but you hardly noticed the shrillness of your voice. Kabuto’s face was untelling. He cocked his knee, resting his elbow against it as he leaned back. Your eyes darted to his eyes. You pursed your lips, diverting your attention to somewhere else in the room. He sighed, swinging his legs off of the bed and neatly placing his footwear next to your bedside table. Kabuto resumed his lounging position. You let out a breath, not noticing that you had been holding it. He reached down into the space where your bed met the wall and pulled out a book. A bookmark stuck out of the top, the piece of paper lodged quite a ways in.

Kabuto noticed your nervous staring.

“What?” He asked, eyebrows raised in a familiar amused but smug look. “You think I come here just for the free meal?” He cracked open his, well your, novel. You stood in the middle of the room, still and tense, still unsure generally of what you should be doing. Kabuto glanced up at you again. “Or is this about the shoes? Because I know you don’t like shoes on the bed and I knew you weren’t going to ask me-”

“I mean, uh, well…” As soon as his challenging eyes met yours, you promptly closed your mouth. Kabuto stuck a finger out at you, sitting up at the edge of your bed. You only stood a few feet away. His fingers held the pages of the book splayed open

“That.” He nearly spat. “That is what I’m talking about.”

“What?” The book closed with a thump. Kabuto propped a foot up on the side rail of your bed as he leaned forward.

“A little nerve would look good on you.” A burning grew at the center of your forehead.

“That’s not very nice.” You murmured, thumbs twiddling. Kabuto frowned.

“Is it? I suppose helpfulness isn’t always nice.” You couldn’t find it within you to convey the ugly feeling in your chest. You turned back to your wardrobe. The door opened with a pop. Kabuto shifted on your bed behind you. “It would be easier for you to handle this passively, but that’s not going to work, dear. I know that’s what you were hoping for.” You gulped, a violent shiver wracked your system. While spoken with little tact, you should be listening to him.

“Please don’t call me that.” You didn’t dare to face him. Your eyes clenched closed.

“That’s a good start, but keep talking like that and you’ll get torn to shreds, dear.” You stood, hand on the frame of the closet.

A silence. You stood pretending to analyze your collection (or lack thereof) of clothes, but your stare went right through any item that came into your focus. You could feel the peering eyes on your neck. Kabuto took a certain amount of pleasure in being silently right.

“I can tell that you don’t want me around right now, so I’ll leave you to your plans, m’kay Sweetheart?” You heard him climb through the window. “And, Dollface, just wear your uniform.”

The room lightened once again, leaving you alone and your made bed wrinkled.

***

Kabuto settled into the den. Really, the hideout was more of a lair rather than a den, but Kabuto always hated calling it a lair. Such a descriptive word felt far too comically sinister for his personal tastes, so he opted for a different word. Den.

Boredom plagued him as he aimlessly sorted through the lab, attempting to clear his mind with a bit of repetitive meniality. The workspace itself remained far from professional, but served as functional nonetheless. However, it’s dilettantish nature translated to more frequent upkeep. Kabuto wiped down the lab tables before refilling various jars of standard materials. By the time Orochimaru found him, Kabuto had almost finished cleaning all of the scalpels.

“Your toy unavailable to play today?” Orochimaru teased. Kabuto only muttered in response, focus still on the scalpels. Orochimaru crossed his arms as he let out an amused sigh. “My, my, I haven’t seen you this upset since-”

“I’m not upset.” Kabuto quickly snapped, intently fixated on scratching blood stains out of the groves of the tool’s handle. Orochimaru clicked his tongue.

“What? Playdate cancelled for today?” He came to sit on one of the lab tables. He leaned his head back against the sturdy fume hood and crossed his legs. A mischievous glint, normal for Orochimaru, gleaned in his eye. He smirked, biting back a laugh. “Have you met the parents yet?”

Kabuto huffed, carrying the scalpel holder back to it’s usual spot. Sliding the tray into the empty space, Kabuto sought out another task. Orochimaru leered, still expecting an answer. His surrogate son tried his best to concentrate on the maintenance of the stereomicroscope, but even Kabuto was not immune to Orochimaru’s eerie gaze. He huffed again.

“No, I haven’t.” Kabuto admitted, finding it easier to play the game in hopes that the other scientist would leave. It never worked in the past, but Kabtuo’s state of distraction left him vulnerable. Careless.

“And why’s that?” Orochimaru fully turned on the table, legs still crossed. Kabuto remained fixated on the stereomicroscope. His fingers danced delicately around the knobs.

“Because she doesn’t have any.”

“Really? That’s awfully sad.” The Sannin mused, “No family?”

“Nope.”

“No one close to her?”

“Nope.”

“No one who would miss her?”

And in that moment, Kabuto knew that he screwed up. Royally. He didn’t have to look at Orochimaru to know that a wicked grin had overtaken his lips. Kabuto hung his head, exasperated by his own carelessness.

“Not what I said.” He countered, attempting to return to his upkeep. Orochimaru drummed his fingers on the hard surface beneath him. “And I don’t like what you’re implying.” Orochimaru feigned disappointed shock.

“What sinister thing could I possibly be implying?” Kabuto arched an eyebrow.

“That’s funny, because I never mentioned anything about it being sinister.”

“Well, if she has no family and no one close to her-”

“She’s out with friends as we speak. Blood of the covenant, I don’t have to tell you that Lord Orochimaru.” Kabuto looked up from his work, eyes squinted with a certain fierceness painted in them. This wasn’t missed by the Sannin, who quickly took a mental note of it. Orochimaru pouted.

“I can’t meet your friends, Kabuto?” Kabuto tore himself away fully from the stereomicroscope, one finger flicking off the light with a snap. He studied his mentor carefully, an attempt at a prediction. He chose his words wisely.

“We’re not friends.” Orochimaru appeared utterly delighted.

“Then you wouldn’t mind bringing her here. I was simply fascinated the last time I saw her. Quite the interesting specimen if I do say so myself.”

“She’s not worth the materials we would use, Lord Orochimaru.” The Sannin hummed, coming down from his perch to lean against the counter next to his protégé. He grabbed his wrist, forcefully pinning it to the table. The skin around the grip had already begun to turn white.

“I suppose that’s why you seek this little friend of yours out every day, hm? You are like a son to me, so I do you a favor and tell you this; I don’t appreciate liars, Kabuto. You know that.” Venom coursed through his voice. “One little act of what could be considered kindness and you’ve let this low level Leaf thing leash and neuter you, my poor boy. Remember that you were the one who wanted to be somebody. Don’t get distracted now.” Kabuto scowled and pushed the equipment back into their spaces with his free hand.

“This is less out of concern and more of your want to study the Leaf girl’s healing capabilities.” An accusation. The hand around Kabuto’s wrist tightened and Orochimaru let out a deep chuckle.

“That’s funny,” He reiterated mockingly, “Because I never mentioned anything about her healing capabilities.” Kabuto tore his arm away.

“I’ll be turning in, now.” He retreated, trying to think of ways to salvage what he could from his mistakes.

Notes: I’m low key waiting for someone to be like “iTs a MiCrOsCoPe nOt a StErEoMicRoScoPe” to which imma be like “bruh I used one yesterday get outta heeee” then I proceed to dab which disturbs everyone within the tri-state area.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

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cutesuki--bakugou · 5 years

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Ancient Soul

Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU

“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.

Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol

Chapter 1: Hey, Hey, It’s Haunted, You Know?!

Chapter Rating: No Warnings Apply Words: 3367

The sound of your blaring alarm from your phone was something that you hated with every fiber of your being. It was a horrible, annoying ringing that would be more at home in some B-rated SiFi movie, but it was the only thing on your phone loud enough to rip you out of sleep. So, with a loud groan into your pillow, you reached across and snatched the device from its resting place, attempting to press the ‘dismiss’ button three times before you were successful. Once it was off, you only took a quick glance at the time, only to further confirm that it was indeed six in the morning.

It was no one's fault but your own that you were so exhausted. You had stayed up late with your friends, shamelessly ditching homework for some voice chat and video game fun. Yes, you knew you had to be up early and that your eight o’clock class was brutal, but you felt like you had deserved that little break. Your life the past few years had been nothing but grinding away at school work, barely even having a social life that didn’t involve the occasional trip to a karaoke bar. That is also how they talked you into skipping class today to come on a little trip with them to some… haunted shrine.

A mixture of exhaustion and the desperate need for companionship had prompted you to agree, and so you all busied yourselves by scaring the wits out of each other on some horror game. You had all planned to meet up at ten, so you had wanted to get a little more sleep. But again, you had crashed the instant you lied your head on your pillow, thus completely forgetting to turn off your alarm. Now what? Should you attempt to go back to sleep and possibly end up sleeping through your meetup time? Or maybe getting up and taking a nice, long shower would be good for you.

You did neither at the moment, beginning to scroll through your social media alerts on your phone that you had been ignoring. Even your friends there seemed… distant from you. You hadn’t made an update or post on anything in a couple of weeks, so overwhelmed with school work that you could hardly even breathe. Just the thought that you were going to skip class today was making you nauseous, so in an attempt to avoid the thought, you rolled over to face the wall and began searching your destination on your phone.

Shōshitsu Shrine, or The Vanishing Shrine, just a few hours drive outside of Kyoto where you were currently attending university. How dumb, you thought, scrolling through the numerous stories and claims of supernatural happenings in this place. Why would they want to go to this place knowing all the weird stuff that has happened? I swear, if something happens I’ll never forgive them. I bet Mirio wants to do this just to get some type of footage!

With a heavy sigh, you let your phone fall out of your hands onto the bed beside you, figuring that scaring yourself before you even got there wasn’t a good idea. You knew that there was going to be a constant conversation about all of this on the drive, so getting all worked up about it was pointless. Tamaki may be able to keep the conversation away from that stuff just because he’s as nervous as I am… Though Nejire will most likely not be able to stop, I think she’s the most excited just because it’s something new.

Dreading the thought, you finally dragged yourself out of bed, giving a hefty sigh as you stretched. Aching bones gave way and popped, giving relief to your basically mangled body. Sitting in a chair in front of a computer playing games all night has a tendency to do that to you, but again, you had no one to blame but yourself. Just as you couldn’t blame anyone else for your phone slipping from your hand and nearly landing right on your foot, making you curse out and jump back a bit to avoid it. “Damn it. Clumsy.”

Gathering your clothing for the day, you sheepishly shuffled into your bathroom, giving your [fur color] cat a soft pat on the head as you passed its favorite sleeping spot. “Good morning, kitty.” You were greeted with a fluttering meow in response, bringing a smile to your lips as you shut the bathroom door behind you. Purposefully avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror, you set your clothing down on the edge of the vanity countertop to begin your regular shower routine.

It went by in a blur, your exhausted mind struggling to keep hold of your surroundings, and by the time you exited the bathroom nearly forty-five minutes had passed. Normally, a shower would have you feeling refreshed, but all it had done was make you want to crawl back into bed. You refused to do so, knowing that you couldn’t bail on this trip, and laying back into bed would ruin it all. So, for the two and a half hours that you had to spare, you first busied yourself with a bit of cleaning up and piddling about online.

When you finally descended the steps to your apartment, you couldn’t help but give a small shiver, finding that it was quite a bit cooler than normal for summer. The puffy, dark grey clouds in the distance were obviously the reason, and you hoped that during the drive, you would outrun the rain. One, because you didn’t have an umbrella or jacket with you, and the thought of going back up three flights of stairs to get those items wasn’t exactly exciting. Before you could truly make your decision, a car pulled up beside your building, honking excitedly at you.

“Hey, hey, [f/n]!” Nejire called from out of the back window, waving you down excitedly. “Hurry! We have to get there fast, it’s going to rain, you know! Can you tell?”

“Did you guys bring umbrellas and things?” You asked after hurriedly approaching the car, sliding into the backseat beside your nearly bouncing friend. Her long periwinkle hair was tied into a braid over her left shoulder and she was dressed for hiking, which you were… not. “Oh no, are we going to hike?! I didn’t know that!”

“Oh, yes!” Nejire watched you closely as you buckled in. “There are a lot of stairs and woods around there, you know, and they don’t take care of it.”

“Ah don’t worry about it, [f/n]. I checked it’s not really hiking, just a lot of stairs.” Mirio piped in from the driver's seat, giving you a comforting glance of his always present smile. “And we have enough umbrellas!”

“That’s not true, Mirio, we only have two! See!” Nejire picked up one from the floorboard next to her feet. “And mine is small! Do you think two people could fit under here? Hm?”

You couldn’t help but release a small squeak of surprise as the umbrella suddenly opened, nearly smacking you right in the face. “Oh geez, Nejire, close it! We can test that when we are out of the car.”

“It’s bad luck to open umbrellas inside,” Tamaki spoke softly from the front, nearly incoherent behind Neiire’s rambling on about how cute her umbrella is. “And Mirio can’t see to drive.”

Nejire gave an airy laugh, finally closing the umbrella. “What?! You can’t get bad luck from opening an umbrella inside a car! That’s just inside a building. Oh, oh, it would be really bad luck to open it in the shrine! Should we try?”

You gave a small shake of your head, pulling out your phone to hopefully distract your mind from the conversation you knew was about to start. “Can we even get inside of the shrine?”

“No,” Mirio gave a small shake of his head. “I mean, sure, if you really tried to I bet we could. But we were just going to look.”

“And not desecrate or be disrespectful. That place is no joke, someone vanished from there just last week.” Tamaki shifted a bit in the front passenger seat, looking back at you over his shoulder. “Did you hear about that?”

“Yeah, yeah, did you hear! Some older man, he just… poof!” Nejire did an exploding hand gesture along with her description, before clapping her hands once loudly. “But, as long as you don’t go there alone, it’s fine! Staying together is how you stay safe! And ignore the foxes!”

“Foxes?” You looked at your friend curiously, watching her hair bob as she nodded energetically. “I didn’t know there were foxes there.”

“Mhmm! I did a lot of research on this, you know, I bet I could tell stories the entire drive!”

I bet you could. You gave a tired sigh, rubbing your cheek as you lied your head back on the headrest of the seat. The feeling and sound of the car driving down the highway was comforting, and you could have sworn that even Nejire’s excited voice was lulling you to sleep. Just as soon as you closed your eyes, you were suddenly jerked awake by the feeling of the car coming to a stop. A familiar, heavy grogginess and a sour taste in your mouth told you that you had fallen asleep, though you were surprised to find that you were right at the entrance to the shrine.

The stairway was marked with a crumbling torii, the dark wood decayed and worn from the abuse of time. It was ominous, a clear sign that this particular shrine was not worthy of upkeep for one reason or another. There were no warning signs, but there were remnants of proof that a team of police had been here recently to conduct a search for the missing elderly man.

With a heavy intake of breath, you forced yourself to exit the car, taking a moment to adjust your t-shirt. Being up higher in the mountains, the air was cool and refreshing, though there were the sounds of a nearby road. It was comforting to be able to still have some grip on civilization, knowing that if something happened, you could find help easily.

“Wow, it’s so creepy! Look, even the trees are growing away from the torii!” Nejire pointed up towards the trees as she made her way close to the entrance. “I wonder why that is! Hey, Mirio, do you know? Hm?” She patted her friend's shoulder eagerly as he came to stand beside her, which he ignored in favor of crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have no idea! C’mon, let’s go!”

With that, he began to make his way up the steps with Nejire following close behind, though she did take a moment to stop and curiously touch the wood of the torii. With a heavy sigh, you were about to make your way up with them, though you noticed that there was a particular person who had not yet gotten out of the car. Coming to stand beside it, you leaned over to curiously peer inside, immediately recognizing the worried furrow of Tamaki’s brow. “Hey, are you okay?”

He gave a quick shake of his head, only giving you a quick glance before back down at his phone he was clutching tightly in his hands. “I think I’ll stay down here for… for a while. Go on up before you lose them.”

“Are you sure? I can hang out with you until you’re ready.”

“N-No, I’ll be ready in… In a little while. You can go.”

You gave him a small, comforting smile before moving away from the car, starting towards the stairs. “Just text me if you need me to come back!” If he answered, you didn’t hear it, trying to focus on the uneven, cracked stone steps. That’s all you would need is to fall down who knows how many stairs just because you didn’t see that one particular crack. The further up you went, the more you felt like the trees were closing in on you, darkening your surroundings and bringing a further chill to your skin.

Just as Nejire had said, it was creepy. It was so damn creepy, in fact, that you almost felt the urge to fly back down the stairs and hide in the car with Tamaki. It was almost as if there were eyes on you, watching your every move. You could only imagine chancing a quick glance up, only to be met with the glare of a ghoul that would steal you away. Perhaps they were behind you right now, so close that the wind on your nape could easily be the breath of a forlorn spirit. Shivering from the thought, you quickly made your way up the stairs, focusing only on the thought of your destination and not the cold feeling of clammy hands on your arms.

You were panting heavily by the time you reached the top of the stairs, but you didn’t dare stop until Nejire and Mirio were in your sights. Leaning over and propping yourself up on your knees, you struggled to catch your breath, barely able to hear Nejire calling your name behind the pounding in your ears.

“[f/n]! Did you get scared? Huh? Why are you so tired? Look at this shrine, it’s so much smaller than it looks online! Oh! It has bugs!”

Recovering, you stood back up, starting to make your way towards them as you tried to restrain your heavy breaths. “Wow, it is a lot smaller and… not anywhere near as creepy as the way up here.”

“You were creeped out on the way up here? I thought it was pretty! Oh, oh, Mirio take a picture of me with this statue!” Nejire seemed quite uninterested in what you had gone through, but the fact that they hadn’t noticed the odd energy made you feel even more uneasy. Deciding to just brush it off, you began to wander a bit, observing the crumbling ancient shrine. As you made your way over to the left side, you had to hop up over a fallen beam, careful not to trip as your sandal shifted unevenly beneath your step.

Suddenly, a flickering of light caught your eye, pulling your gaze down along the wall of the shrine. There, a small wooden box sat, with a picture, flickering white candles, and white flowers. Curious, you stepped closer and squatted down beside it, finding that the picture was of an elderly gentleman. Instantly, you felt your skin crawl, knowing that it must have been the man who had vanished just recently. The fact that the candles were lit meant that someone had just recently come up here to grieve, and you immediately felt like an asshole for showing up just to gawk at a place that housed so much suffering.

Just as you were about to stand, it began to rain, just a light drizzle. After peering up at the darkening sky, you turned your focus back to the tiny altar in front of you, feeling a twinge of sadness as the candles were put out by the rain. Placing your palms together in front of your chest, you bowed your head and gave a quiet prayer for the man’s soul, before standing to find your friends to hopefully avoid a similar fate.

“Mirio! It’s raining! We forgot the umbrellas and Tamaki!”

“He’ll come up when he’s ready, and it’s just a little- ah, okay, it’s raining hard.”

“C’ mon, let’s go get the umbrellas, quick! Besides, you’re the only one who can get Tamaki to come up, too!”

It was then that you heard the footsteps of them rushing down the stairs, joined in by the loud rush of rain on stone. Feeling panic bubble within you, you were quick to try and rush back to the pillar you climbed over before. “W-wait, hey, don’t leave me up- WAH!”

The pillar, aged with mold, became slick in the rain, and your foot slipped out from under you the instant you tried to push yourself up. You landed hard on your backside, the pain making you hiss out and lay down in defeat. “O-Ow… Damn sandals!”

For a moment, you just laid there, hips pulsing in pain and the rain falling on your face. You could have almost admitted that it was… peaceful, to lay there like that. All peace was jolted from you, however, as there was a rustling in the brush beside you, making your eyes instantly flash open and heart race violently. You were frozen in your spot, and yet the rustling grew closer. You could just imagine a ghoul crawling towards you out of the darkness, body contorted and blood dripping from whatever hole could possibly be the most terrifying.

Damn stupid haunted shrine! I swear I am never going anywhere haunted ever aga-... A fox?

You found yourself face to face with a fox as it came to stand over you, peering down into your [e/c] eyes as if it were a human. Cautiously, you shifted yourself to the side and sat up, breathing heavily from your momentary terror.

“A-a fox… out in the rain. At a haunted shrine. I must have hit my head and passed out or something…” You adjusted your sitting position to sit on your knees, resting your hands on your thighs as you leaned over a bit to look down at the fox. Its gaze never left your face, watching you so intently that you figured it must have been scared. Though, it didn’t have a frightened body posture, nor was it snarling in any way. The orange and dark brown fur that covered the animal was oddly dry looking, even with the pouring rain, but you couldn’t really say you had ever seen a wet fox before.

“Uhm…” You felt a bit stupid for even thinking it, but you had an unending urge to just… talk to it. “How’s it going… foxy?” As if in response, the animal’s left ear gave a twitch, bringing you to notice that it was missing quite a large chunk out of it as if it had been bitten by something. Plausible, of course, since it was a wild animal. What you still couldn’t get over was the way it looked at you, as if it could truly understand you or even… read your mind? It was so bizarre, so intimidating that you were beginning to feel a bit sick to your stomach. “I… Maybe you should go.”

“No. You are the one that does not belong here.”

The wispy voice that filled your mind startled you so badly that you were suddenly frozen with fear, gaping down at the fox as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. D-did it just talk to me?! Did I just imagine that? What the hell--

“You are not imagining anything.” Again, the voice came to your mind as the fox stood from it’s seated position, taking a few delicate steps towards you. It was then that your flight responses kicked in and you backed away, quickly finding that you were pressed up against the stone wall of the shrine.

Breathing heavily, you cowered as far back as you possibly could. “G-get away! I don’t care if this is some hallucination from falling or if it’s real, you need to get away!”

The fox did not move from its spot, though its tail did sway a bit. “It is not a hallucination. But, I am not the one that needs to leave.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave. I’ve obviously gone insane.” Your voice trembled as you spoke, feeling your entire body shaking as you began to stand. “I’m gone! I’m out of here forever.”

“You misunderstand me, [f/n].”

Again, you found your body frozen, fearful gaze locked on the fox as it stared up at you. You couldn’t move an inch, not as it approached you and not even as a wicked grin crept across its lips, revealing human-like teeth.

“It is your soul that does not belong.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #xreader #personal #ancient soul

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Seventy-Five: Direct Opposites ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Healing Waters and Scorching Flames ] [ AO3 Link ]

In their world, there could hardly be a pair more directly opposite.

True, Sakura and Naruto - earthbender and airbender - are just as curious in regards to their elements. But at least their temperaments had always been vaguely similar. Loud, boisterous, and uncensored.

But when they first met, Hinata and Sasuke couldn’t be more different.

She had been meek, quiet, afraid...and yet determined to save the boy she’d only just helped break free of his icebound prison.

He was driven, assertive...and full of anger, just as determined to take that boy and help ensure victory of a one-hundred year long war to place all beneath the Fire Nation banner.

But, like seasons...as time passed, they both changed. Hinata grew bolder, more confident, and lost her fear as she came into her own. A true natural, she mastered water quickly alongside her Avatar companion, and with her mastery came assurity in herself.

And with every clash he had with the Avatar - alongside gentle, unnoticed prodding from his cousin - Sasuke, too, began to shift. While his was...slower, and more painful after a lifetime of expectations and bias, change still came. He lost his edge, his anger, and his determination found new focus: aid the Avatar, stop his father, and bring peace to a world he’d remained largely ignorant of.

And part of his ignorance was indeed shattered by a once-shy waterbender novice...now a master, and able to stand up to all he’d been.

He respected that growth. And she, in time, came to appreciate his own...though her trust was slow to earn. In the end, she recognized the necessity...and through their shared battles, now facing the same foes, Hinata realized he truly had changed.

And so, they fought side by side in the decisive battles that - at last - put an end to a century of war, occupation, and suffering.

It was then they knew that no longer were they opposites - fire and water may stand across from one another in the elemental balance...but so too could they work side by side. Over the course of their journeys, both had metamorphosed.

And then the real work began. Reintegration, peace talks, new laws and new governments. They all had their hands full, and over the next several years only saw each other briefly.

But when they did, Sasuke...realized something. Hinata had grown, certainly...but their continued efforts only saw her blossom further. She became a leader, a doer, and a strong voice for her people. In any political sense, he saw her as his equal, if not - in some ways - above him. Second born to the new Fire Lord, he would never lead...nor did he want to. That temptation of power was too great, and he would never take that chance again.

But Hinata was a natural. Gracious, but firm. Kind, but resolute. Under her guidance (and with help of all of her people), the South began to grow...and prosper.

...and so did she.

The more they were able to talk - at summits, at galas, and even little meetings in Shisui’s tea shop - the more Sasuke realized how much she’d matured.

How...beautiful she was, inside and out.

The realization was a little off-putting. Even then, the knee-jerk reaction to their elements couldn’t be avoided. Him, a firebender, in love with a waterbender? What would his father -?

...it no longer mattered what his father thought. His father was no longer Fire Lord - no longer a firebender. And no longer a part of his life. Nor was Sasuke heir to the throne. It wasn’t his responsibility to marry for bloodlines.

...not that his brother had done so, either.

He almost wanted to see the look on his father’s face when he saw both of his sons hand their hearts to waterbenders.

...in a way, Sasuke found it...fitting. To have water there to temper the heat and hunger of fire. Maybe that was exactly what their nation needed.

...but was it what Hinata wanted…?

It’s now we find out.

He’s waited to ask her back to the teahouse. For some reason, it just feels...right to meet her there. In the shop his cousin has found peace in. In a place they’ve spent time together, and where he labored honestly for the first time, no longer a prince. Something about it seems to suit his intentions.

Standing outside, he waits almost anxiously, too engrossed in his worrying to note the occasional stare he gets. After all, he’s wearing traditional Fire Nation garb. It’s been about ten years, but...well, memories go back further than that. And there’s little mistaking who he is. Arms crossed, he resists the urge to shove one back in his pocket, make sure it’s still there -

“Sasuke?”

Face snapping up from his staring at his boots in thought, his expression alights at her voice. Like him, she wears clothes of her homeland, though slightly lighter in style than typical. It’s warm in the Earth Kingdom this time of year, after all. Hardly a time for parkas and furred boots. “...Hinata!”

“Sorry I’m late - there was a little trouble with the tram,” she explains with a small smile. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”

In truth, he was here half an hour before they were arranged to meet, talking with Shisui and sharing his intentions. With his cousin in on the plot, things will hopefully go smoothly. “No, not long. I’m fine - don’t worry about me.”

A dark brow perks over pale eyes. “Well...all right then. Should we get inside?”

“Sure - Shisui knows we’re coming, so I’m sure he’ll be ready for us.”

“Oh! Good!”

One of the servers leads them to a rear table for two, flanked on both sides in the corner by windows. Doing his best not to look stiff or nervous, Sasuke mirrors her menu-studying, ordering before they’re left to their devices.

“...so, how are things in the South?”

“Very good. The port city is growing rapidly, and all of the displaced waterbenders have either been returned home, or found new homes in the city. We’re finally starting to flourish after all of our hard work.”

He gives a soft smile - a few years back, he got to see the changes for himself during a trip South with his brother.

It had been a...bittersweet visit.

“What about you? Still busy in the Fire Nation?”

“Honestly, not so much. Most of the greatest difficulties were handled fairly quickly after the war. It’s mostly just typical upkeep of diplomacy, and working with Naruto on that city in the Earth Kingdom he’s so excited about.”

“Republic City?”

“Yeah. We’re almost out of the planning phases and ready to start building.”

“That’s so amazing...I think it’s a wonderful idea. A neutral area for anyone of any nation to live...I’ll have to drop by sometime!”

“Well, there’s nothing to see yet, but I hope you will once there is.”

...silence falls. And their tea has yet to arrive.

“Any, uh...anything else exciting happen lately?”

“Mm...no, not really,” Hinata admits. “Like you say, things have mostly leveled off into maintaining the new normal.”

“Ah…”

Another pause, and Sasuke hesitates. Should he…? Reaching into his pocket stealthily, he makes to grab -

But then their orders arrive, each with their own small teapot. He whips his hand back to the table, earning a glance from his companion, to which he gives a twitching smile.

“...are you...all right?”

“Fine! Fine.”

Hinata’s expression deadpans slightly. “...Sasuke, you know you can’t lie to me.”

“I’m not...lying, I’m just -”

“What’s on your mind?”

You. “...er…”

Her brows lift, and...well, he might as well admit the jig is up.

Sighing, he fishes around in his pocket, and grasps something in his hand. “...I know this isn’t how things usually go for your people, and uh...I hope it isn’t offensive that I - that I’m trying it, but -”

Nearby, Shisui perks up, seeing his cousin fumbling.

“...obviously you don’t have to take it. I just -” His other hand runs back through his hair with another exhale. “...Hinata...you and I, we...we started off on the wrong foot. The...worst foot, really. And...I know you hated me for a time. I don’t blame you.”

“Sasuke -”

“But, then...we changed. I changed, especially. And...we got to get to know each other up until the war. And then things got so busy, we hardly got to see each other, but...but you? You grew so much. And every time I’ve gotten to see you since the war ended, I...I realized that everything you were becoming - strong, and wise, and...and beautiful - were things that I...I…” A pause to take a shaking breath, swallowing harshly. “...that I was falling in love with.”

Expression slackening, Hinata’s pale eyes go round.

“At first, I...I refuted it. Because surely you still blamed me in some capacity. Surely one of the most famous waterbenders wouldn’t want anything to do with a disgraced firebending prince. Two direct opposites couldn’t ever mesh like that...could they?

“...but I saw glimmers of hope in it. I thought - I hoped - that I read a similar, if not maybe...more muted feeling in you. I felt torn between what I assumed, and...what I thought I knew. So…”

Unclenching his fist, Sasuke reveals a traditional betrothal necklace. But rather than the typical stone, it’s carved from obsidian: round, with wave-like patterns. “This is a volcanic rock that I found in my homeland. I thought it might serve to...to unite two opposing forces. This isn’t a water tribe arranged marriage, and...I’m not a waterbender. But -”

Hinata raises a hand, cutting him off before plucking the choker from his palm. Studying it for a long moment, she then lifts it to her throat, careful fingers clasping it.

...is she…?

“...you’re right,” she murmurs. “This isn’t something preordained. And...maybe we could spend a little time...adjusting first. But…” Letting fingers press the stone to her throat, Hinata looks up, expression aglow with happiness. “...I think, given that that plan goes well...then I would have no qualms about marrying you. Because you read me right - I’ve come to respect and admire you, too.”

“Y-you…?”

“I know we’ve known each other for almost a decade, now. But...this is...different. I’d just like to let ourselves ease into it, maybe…?”

“Of...of course! I...you’re right. I just thought it’d be...er…”

“It’s a lovely gesture. And not at all offensive - in fact, I’m flattered you went so far to follow our traditions, even though they aren’t your own.” Delicately, Hinata rests her hand atop his own, feeling him grasp it. “You’re right...this is quite the clashing of cultures. But...we fought side by side, fire and water. Surely we can do just the opposite too.”

Softening (and doing his absolute best not to cry), Sasuke leans in to rest his brow to hers. “...I’m sure we can.”

It’s then applause breaks out, and the pair of them jolt. Shisui leads the entire teahouse in clapping, flushing both their faces bright red.

“It’s about time!” the elder cousin teases, grinning from ear to ear. “Your chemistry was so bright when you were in here before, it was blinding.”

“Shisui,” Sasuke growls in warning, the tips of his ears hot.

“Tea’s on the house today for the lovely couple,” the ex-general finishes, winking and slinking back into the rear to give them a moment.

Sasuke heaves a gusting sigh, still pink as Hinata giggles.

“Don’t worry - I’m sure we’ll hear worse for a while. Just wait until Sakura and Naruto hear the news.”

Sasuke just groans.

It's v late and I'm v tired so I'll be brief ='D A proposal scene, woo! I...dunno if this is how this would actually go, but we'll roll with it for the sake of the challenge entry. I can see Sasuke being pretty nervous. They don't get to interact much post-war, but there's always a kind of...tension when they do. So he's wagering he read that tension right! Apparently, he did xD Still, Hinata's probably right: better try dating properly for a while first, but...it's clear they've pretty much made up their minds. And uh...yeah. That's it xD I'm gonna go crash now, haha - thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha shisui #healing waters and scorching flames [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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idreamofhazeleyes · 5 years

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Ties in Blood -- Chapter 26

A bit late, sorry. I may have time between putting job apps in for this, drabbles, and Aaliyah’s journal. If you wanna be tagged/not tagged, please please PLEASE let me know so I can fix it. I can make tag lists for any character if need to.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @percussiongirl2017 @winchestergirl-13 @malinq-ashida @optimisticpeacecollector5 @squirrelnotsam

Chapter 26

“There’s something here feeding on the patients,” Aaliyah said once she heard the door click close.

“Like what?” Leo asked. “It’s not like there’s actual creature monsters roaming the halls here.”

“There’s more than just wendigos, werewolves, and ghosts in the dark corners of the world,” Aaliyah said. “Djinn is my first choice, but there might be a witch that might be putting hex bags around.”

“We’ve never dealt with Djinn before,” Nissa brought up.

“They’re hermits and tend to stay around ruins.”

“So, why would one be here?” Xander questioned.

Aaliyah shrugged. “Who knows? It’s why I’m thinking it’s a witch instead of a djinn.” She didn’t want to voice her concern that with the number of victims the source wasn’t a witch. “Leo, think you can actually flirt with some of the staff? Or should I …”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll stay here,” Nissa offered. “Not that Xander can’t handle himself.”

“Love the confidence, Nissa,” Xander shot at her, no real anger in his voice.

“Okay, you two,” Aaliyah cut in, a tease of a smile at her mouth. “Love the bonding we’re having here, but we need to focus here. Leo, focus on with the staff and anything out of the norm they may have noticed. Nissa, same but stick nearby Xander. Xander …”

“I can try and play bait,” he offered with a nervous chuckle.

Aaliyah smiled as she moved to his bed, giving him a kiss on a cheek. “You start thinking of what you want for dinner. After this case, we’ll try and get it.”

“Mac and cheese. But not the cheap stuff with the powder stuff; the real gooey Velveeta type cheese.”

Aaliyah nodded and headed for the door while Xander started listing more things for dinner. Once out of the room, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Part of her didn’t want to acknowledge the thing they were hunting was a Djinn. The hunter part of her mind urged to question those who had access to the residents that had passed away and currently in a coma. Another wanted to move Xander to another facility in the hope of keeping him safe and not worry about what was going on in the facility. After all that she had been through, Aaliyah just couldn’t do that. Something had to be done. Rolling her shoulders to push off from the wall, she started down the hall and spotted a passing nurse.

“Excuse me,” she called out, startling the nurse. “Sorry. I was hoping you’d be able to answer some questions about those in comas.”

“I’m not supposed to. Whole doctor, patient…”

“People are dead and dying, and you’re worried about that?” Aaliyah fought to keep her voice low. She understood as a former nurse where the nurse before her was coming from. But as a hunter, Aaliyah hated red tape and those who prevented her from saving people and hunting things. “Were there any … signs before they slipped into the coma that you noticed? Any new additions to the staff?”

The nurse shifted her weight in a way that Aaliyah assumed that they were debating on if it would be worth breaking the doctor/patient confidentiality.

“There’s a new nurse,” the nurse told Aaliyah. “She’s got these tattoos on her arms that seem like they’re … I don’t know. Like they could be from the Middle East or some tribal knock off. She usually keeps them covered up with long sleeves, but I’ve seen glimpse of them. As for those in comas … Many of us had contact one way or another with them. But she’s been the main one to contact them.”

“Uh huh.” Sounded something like what a Djinn would do. “Is it possible for me to see one of the coma patients? Call it figuring out a hunch.”

The nurse glanced around before gesturing for Aaliyah to follow.

Aaliyah hadn’t fully noticed the music being piped through the PA system until then. It was one of those things one noticed when entering a new space. Her mind had filed it away within a few minutes of entering the lobby of the building. The nurse turned into a room with the light on low. Aaliyah never understood how having the low light helped any; even when she was at the hospital doing her last bit for her degree.

“This is Jason,” the nurse told her. “Came in due to no one in the family able to care for him. Yet they manage to be able to afford payments.”

“Don’t wanna put the time and effort,” Aaliyah said. “Just wanna be lazy and have other people do the work.”

“Something like that.”

She walked in and over to the IV stand and tilted her head at the way the lines were tied up. Almost as if … Aaliyah heard the soft click of the door closing behind her and turned around. The nurse pulled her hand from the knob and kept her gaze on it.

“I had expected to see a hunter or two to pass through here,” she said. “But not the barely known Aaliyah Fisher.” She turned her gaze to Aaliyah. “How does it feel; knowing that your only claim to fame is your ties to the Winchesters?”

“Oh, I’ve had a few victories of my own,” Aaliyah replied. “Don’t sell me short because of them.” Her mind wanted to race in panic mode. She had been lucky in her first Djinn encounter. This one may finally be the end.

“Are you sure about that?” the Djinn countered. “No silver knife coated in lamb’s blood. And I doubt you know any angels or demons.”

Aaliyah scanned the room in the hope of finding some sort of weapon.

“You’re out of luck this time,” the Djinn commented, closing the gap between them. “So, be a good dead hunter and just sit still for a minute. This won’t hurt.”

Aaliyah backed up and knocked over a small flower vase on the nightstand. Her hand fumbled for a few seconds before her fingers grabbed hold. She spun it on her palm, using the neck piece as a handle.

The Djinn sighed. “You are a waste.” She reached out and grabbed hold of Aaliyah’s neck.

Aaliyah pulled away from the Djinn, raising the vase in an attempt to fight it off.

The Djinn deflected the half hearted attack, the remains of the vase breaking somewhere on the floor.

Aaliyah fought against the poison that seeped through her skin, her head nodding in her efforts to remain alert. With each blink, her eyes took longer to open. So, this was how she went out. Against a Djinn that didn’t even break a sweat. Some hunter she was, Aaliyah told herself when her eyes closed. Couldn’t even take out a simple Djinn alone.

It had been Aaliyah’s last thought before the poison took complete control.

Aaliyah pulled up alongside the side of the long drive and put the car in park. She sat there and stared at the country styled house with its white siding and porch that spanned six feet from the building and wrapped around the front and side of the house. A small smile pulled at her mouth when the front door opened and the small pack of dogs charged outside. There were perks about having the family home out in the country. Having the large house with an acre or two of land were two. Having room to have seven or so dogs was another. Aaliyah climbed out of the car as the dogs approached.

She laughed as the barking stopped and the pack worked to greet her. Working her way through the pack, greeting each dog by its name or with a good scratch, Aaliyah managed to free herself from the car. Most of the pack darted off to do whatever while one stayed closed to Aaliyah as she grabbed her suitcase from the trunk. She saw a woman standing at the door as she came up to the house.

“Thought I told you to call me when you got in,” the woman said, a smile on her face.

“Figured I’d surprise you,” Aaliyah said, trying to recall a name for the woman who could easily pass as her mother.

“Come on in, your siblings are in the kitchen,” the woman said.

Aaliyah put her suitcase to the side of the entryway before moving for the kitchen. There was a shriek of a noise before she was plowed into by someone. Aaliyah made an oof of a noise when some air got knocked out of her lungs.

“Li-Li,” the person, a sprite of a five year old, cried. “I missed you,” they signed.

Aaliyah managed to free herself from the five year old and knelt down to their level. She smiled as she looked over the boy. “And I missed you, Tiny Terror,” she signed back.

“I’m not a terror,” he protested in play. “I’m Ripley.”

“Right. Little Ripley, the Tiny Terror.” Aaliyah chuckled before going in and tickling him.

Ripley squirmed and fought against Aaliyah’s onslaught of tickles while laughing.

“Alright, you two,” the woman spoke up, walking into the kitchen. “Aaliyah, want something to drink?”

“A beer if you have any?” Aaliyah straightened Ripley’s shirt before standing.

Ripley darted from the dining area part of the kitchen just as the woman turned and put her hands on the counter top.

Aaliyah glanced around and found her three siblings sitting at the table with similar expressions. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Dad died in a car crash,” Xander spoke up in a soft tone, almost as if he didn’t want to talk about it. “He was three times over the legal limit. Seriously fucked up the other car and the occupants were in the hospital for months.”

Sure, Casey was a terrible father for what he did, but Aaliyah couldn’t recall him ever being a drunk. “Are they okay? I mean, I musta missed that when I was outta town.”

“Physically, they’re fine,” Nissa chimed in. “Mentally, I’m sure they’re still messed up.”

“Enough,” the woman commanded. “It’s something we all have to deal with. Aaliyah, why don’t you and Nissa head out and check on the horses.”

Horses? When did they have them?

Aaliyah followed her sister out the back door and stared out the back with her mouth open. She had thought the front of the house and yard had been amazing in its upkeep, the back was even more so. Aaliyah had seen shows where the backyards of high end houses were well sculpted with a pool, which was set off to a side with a rock formation and a working waterfall and spanned a good twenty feet in length. A playscape structure stood further back and away from the pool; something for Ripley to play on Aaliyah guess.

“So, how’s the show coming along?” Nissa’s voice broke into Aaliyah’s mind.

“Oh … um … good. We’ve gone on break for a couple weeks due to spring break before we wrap up for the season.” Aaliyah kept up with Nissa. “Refresh my memory; horses?” She could smell hay and the lingering one of manure some ten feet away from the barn.

“Yeah, Mom was big on horses growing up. She was wanting some long before you started on that show.” Nissa came up to the barn door and opened it. “You’ve helped in the up keep of them.”

Aaliyah followed Nissa into the barn and heard the neigh of a horse and the noise of another. She allowed her eyes to adjust before walking down the aisle and stopped at a stall.

“You never forget yours,” Nissa commented.

Aaliyah held out a hand as the horse walked over to her, as if curious on who the new person was. “I don’t know why, I’ve always wanted one. Maybe mom…”

“Prisilla,” Nissa said. “Or Pris. You’ve never been comfortable calling her mom.”

Aaliyah nodded. “Why did she want all this? Not like she and I got along well.”

“Oh, you do. When dad first brought you and Xander in after your mom died of cancer, we all weren’t sure of each other.”

Aaliyah stroked the horse’s muzzle and listened. “We eventually grew close.”

“Took you standing up to a bully in junior high.” Nissa half chuckled at the memory. “Told ‘em that if they messed with Leo again, you’d kick their asses.”

“Yeah, sounds like me.”

Aaliyah remembered how she stood up to one of the cheerleaders in high school when they were picking on the new kid. It was when she talked with the new kid that Aaliyah learned they were hard of hearing. Some signs still stuck with her; most faded away from unused. “And Ripley?”

“You really musta put yourself into work,” Nissa commented. “Mom and dad adopted him shortly after he was born. It was a few months before we learned he was hard of hearing.”

The horse nudged Aaliyah, pushing her off balance. Aaliyah recovered and shot her horse a look and saw it moving its lips into a smile.

“And that’s why you named him Jester,” Nissa said with a smile. “Come on, let’s see if the others are up for a ride.”

#spn fanfic long post

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flowercuco · 6 years

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Veil Episode 2

Now that I’m at Jaquerel’s place for the forseeable future and that he has the week off, I managed to get the gang back together for a fun adventure in which our cyberpunk friends protect and entertain the Virtual Idol, Crescent Moon in the city that they live in. We didn’t get to do too much, but we’ll see about figuring out how and when to do shorter sessions a bit more regularly...

The upkeep started off really good, with everyone basically rolling in my favor! Ariel, the resident apparatus remembered a time that they woke up and how they were painfully and quickly put back under. We didn’t really do downtime but we managed to establish that Senza and Ariel managed to extract 2Beta, Ariel’s sibling, out of LACUNA, Senza’s attached object, and into a Nintendo Labo adjacent robot kit, and is currently housed, safe inside of Ariel’s hideout, musing on their situation and on what to do! How convenient for them to be out of the way for now. Synch also got a new friend, Rose, a cool, buff, and rich lady who they’ve done favors for and can call on to get some information.

I also did some worldbuilding on Quid Central, but I’ll talk about that as it comes up, which it hasn’t so far!

So the group begins outside of the apartment rooms that Crescent Moon is currently using, as Quid Central doesn’t have a real hotel with a penthouse suite or anything. They know, from Will, that people from inside of the city and outside have, for some reason, decided that Crescent Moon’s upcoming concert, the very first large live musical event in the current era, cannot be allowed to pass. Additionally, Will has a mission to retrieve Burning In Flames Empowered By My Soul, leader of criminal (psychic) group, Eyes on the Inside, who is currently dating Synch, or at least to retrieve something from Burning.

Will, being a big fan of Crescent Moon, is too nervous to knock on the door, so Fortuna takes over, meeting Waning Touch, who is Crescent Moon’s manager. After ensuring that the group is who they say they are, with Will managing to step up given that she doesn’t have to talk to Crescent Moon, they are let in and Waning Touch immediately leaves as she needs to head over to RedBlack Duel Park, where the rest of Crescent Moon’s entourage is setting up for the concert.

The group sees a relatively nice apartment building that’s been modified with the Veil to be more Space themed, with the Virtual Idol sitting in a floating crescent moon bed, reading some magazines and ignoring the group for now. Synch looks around the room pretending to be a Cool Detective but secretly seeing things to steal I think. I should have just had Senza and LACUNA start to argue over whether to instantly attempt to interface with the idol, but I’m deciding that LACUNA did not want to interface with her in a place that she obviously had some measure of control over! It should be noted now, that whoever actually made Crescent Moon is not knowledge that is easy to come by.

Anyway, as the player characters have their own sort of range of reactions (Will: That’s Crescent Moon!), Fortuna continues to take the lead, and introduces herself and the group to the V-Idol, with her being very excited to go around the city, as it is currently truly one of a kind and, as a place that is thick with the augmented reality, very agreeable to her. After some discussion (where do the hip kids (young adults) hang out???), the group establishes that there is of course a Mall, a Blitz Stadium, some nice Biomes, and the Anime Museum. After attempts to derail us from the Anime Museum track fail, we go to the Son Goku Memorial Anime Museum, which of course has a large statue of Goku outside of it. It was here that I established the loop how this game would go, at least for now.

Whenever the group would go to a new place, whoever is currently leading would roll a special move to control or otherwise reign Crescent Moon in. If they failed, among other things, Crescent Moon Tracking Dot Com would update, and as it updated more it would lead to More Problems.

Fortuna begins with a mixed success, meaning that the situation that passes is that Crescent Moon (in a clever disguise to hide her ears and most of her tail), bumps into Burning, who is wearing a very good Sonicfox (the gay furry fighting game player who is extremely good) t-shirt to commemorate his victory in the 1999 TOURNAMENT OF POWER. He is in fact, leaving the special Sonicfox and Anime Fighter exhibit, and quizzically looks at Crescent Moon, as Synch intervenes and attempts to get him to leave before he can ask questions or figure out who bumped into her, as Burning isn’t a fan of the V-Idol, but one of the other Eyes, Melting, is. Synch succeeds more or less, giving Burning some tickets to the concert and making a promise, and as Will attempts to observe Burning, to get a hold on her mission better, she loses Crescent Moon, who is followed by Ariel deeper into the exhibit.

The Sonicfox Arcade Exhibit has various AR-Cade machines, regular arcade machines, and edutainment arcade machines. After some work, Ariel finds Crescent Moon in an AR DB Fighterz cabinet, where she’s about to draw attention to herself by loudly announcing that she’s going to take all challengers. Ariel jumps into the ring and with their infinite connection to the veil and the internet, manages to get the upper hand in the fighting game, succeeding in making the match last as long as possible, to the absolute frustration of their opponent.

The rest of the group arrives in time and Synch uses their psychic powers to attempt to reign Crescent Moon in, and instead spreads her anger at losing at video games to everyone in the arcade exhibit. The group quickly decides to leave, but not before Ariel feels, for the first time, at peace, and realizes that they should play fighting games more often!

Running this in a post Detroit: Become Human world is fucked up, and my homework before we go to I Think, the Natura Artisanal Biomes, is to remember to include things for Fortuna to try to integrate to her weird biological augments, figure out the specifics of Burning’s abandoned Obligation that Will aims to collect, and remember to have Senza and LACUNA talk a bit about when and how and maybe actually if they will interface with this furry idol hologram.

#quidama dre #concert at quid central

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peterjonesparker · 7 years

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hello! i’ve briefly come up for air so that i could fill one prompt and write this! i’m sorry i’ve kinda fallen off the deep end but college is hard, yo. anyway, i hope you enjoy! don’t take this too seriously haha. have this fic in which mj accidentally gives peter a coupon book for sexual favors.

tagging: my wife @spideychelle-romanogers, a gem with a seasonal blog name @spookychelleblessup, the always hilarious @suplosers, someone i need to say hello to again @bellamywarriorblake, and i can’t remember if she wanted me to tag her in things but i’ll do it anyway because i love her @aqhrodites. if you asked me to tag you and i’ve forgotten, please let me know! i’ll actually make a list instead of me just being like oh wait i needed to do this!

this coupon is good for… (ao3 link)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

A List of Things Michelle Only Found Out About Peter After They Became Friends:

He doesn’t know how to use chopsticks properly. (Michelle’s had to show him several times and he’s still helpless.)

Peter isn’t the most well-read. He spends most of his time reading comics, graphic novels, books for class, books about physics, and books that in some way help him build tech for the spidey suit. (Michelle has thrown several books at his head. She’s seen a bookmark in one, so she’ll take what she can get.)

Perhaps most egregious, Peter Parker is, without a doubt, single-handedly, the best gift giver. And it’s infuriating.

See, the thing about being friends with someone who’s great at giving gifts is that you just suck at it. Michelle can spend hours thinking up something to get Peter for his birthday or Christmas or graduation and it will be like getting a rock compared to anything Peter gives her. A signed copy of her favorite book, an exclusive interview with Steve Rogers, a year-long subscription to a sock of the month club.

Michelle manages to get Peter this vintage comic book she happened upon once at an antique store and that was the greatest gift she got him. It wasn’t even a comic he’d read. But he still smiled and gasped and thanked her. Even though it was a really lame present. Michelle is determined to do better.

Yet, despite her sincerest desire to give Peter a good present to finally make up for the years and years of lame presents she’s given him, Michelle always forgets to plan. Which is how she ends up frantically looking through a Hallmark store on a Thursday night at eight pm, searching for a present to give Peter for his birthday tomorrow.

It’s sad, really. But she was busy! Classes have her swamped and it was her midterm week. She feels guilty, though. Because Peter also made her lunch for the entire week and packed it with a note telling her she’d do great. Which is why she wanted to make it up to him with a great present! But here she is, looking at sad, pseudo-edgy journal booklets.

She finally settles on a coupon book she sees offhand. She looks through it and it’s got lots of household chores, which Peter absolutely abhors doing so at least he’ll have use for them. (Peter is, on all accounts, a fantastic roommate. But his tolerance for basic household upkeep leaves something to be desired. She’s had to pick up the spider-man suit from the floor more times than she’d care to admit.) She grabs the red one as a joke (Spider-man!) and purchases it, hoping that the party she has planned for him tomorrow will at least make up for this lame gift.

Michelle makes him breakfast the next morning before his eleven am class. Chicken crumble and scrambled eggs over avocado toast. She also makes him coffee because she saw his light on at two thirty am when she went to use the restroom. He’s sleepy, but he thanks her, kissing her hair lightly on his way to the bar stool. They chat and eat before both of them leave for class. On her way out the door, she reminds him to be back by seven for her surprise.

Michelle thinks it’s very likely he knows it’s a party, but what he doesn’t know is that Tony is coming. It’s been a long time since Peter has seen him and, while she and Tony don’t always see eye-to-eye about everything, she’s excited that Peter will get to see him.

So, when seven pm rolls around and everyone’s waiting eagerly in their apartment, Michelle is, admittedly, a lot excited. May baked a beautiful cake. (Well, May’s girlfriend baked a beautiful cake. May isn’t the most adept baker. Or cook. But everyone really likes Shana and her cooking.) Ned’s flown in because it’s Peter’s twenty first. So did Liz. (Tony may have paid for their tickets, but he doesn’t really want that information spreading around. Doesn’t need anyone asking him to buy them plane tickets whenever they please.) Then the door lock starts rattling and everyone quiets, scrambling to hide.

As soon as Peter opens the door, everyone jumps and screams. “Surprise!”

Peter laughs. “You guys!” He’s smiling brightly in that dopey way he does, and Michelle feels her heart swell and her face heat up. So, she might be a little bit in love with Peter Parker. It doesn’t matter. It’s not important. We can just ignore it.

Tony walks over to Peter, and Peter chokes a bit. The two hug and it’s heartwarming. But then Ned is rushing over and tackling Peter and there’s laughter and smiling again. Michelle is happy that Peter is happy. So she lets Peter make his way around the party, talking to everyone and catching up. She’s content to stay on the sidelines, making sure everyone is happy. Most importantly, Peter.

But Tony Stark finds her halfway through the night. “Michelle, yes?” She nods her head, sipping from the specialty IPA that May brought. (If there’s one thing May does know, it’s beer.) “Thanks for doing this for him. For bringing me.” He looks down, smiling a bit. “He’s told me you don’t always think so highly of me. So, I appreciate you inviting me anyway.”

She doesn’t know how to respond. For one, she wants to punch Peter because she’d told Peter that, not Tony Stark. There’s no point in denying. So: “You mean a lot to Peter. You should get to be here, too.”

He smiles at her, nodding his head lightly. He taps his hand against his thigh and starts to walk away. He pauses for a moment, turns around, and says, as if he can’t decide if he should, “You mean the world to him. Please tell me you know that?”

She’s a bit stunned. She just nods and he seems to accept that because he walks away. She scans the room until she spots Peter. He’s in the middle of what appears to be an animated story because his arms are flying everywhere and he’s laughing and Ned and Liz are laughing into their hands and shaking their heads. Michelle has never loved him more.

She stares long enough that he finally looks at her. He gives her a crooked smile and her heart flutters. He waves her over, but she shakes her head and shoos him so he’ll go back into the conversation. He rolls his eyes and goes back to listening to Liz’s story.

The rest of the party is fairly lowkey. She catches up with Cindy, chats with May, talks to a few people from Peter’s lab. By around ten thirty, people start trickling out. Some people are going to other parties. Some are going home. By the time the last person leaves, there are cups and plates scattered all throughout the apartment for Peter and MJ to clean. (Most likely in the morning, if she’s being honest.)

He hugs her tightly. “Thank you, MJ. I had a great time.”

“I’m glad.” She chuckles, squeezing him a bit before pushing him away. She walks over to her backpack to grab her lame excuse of a gift. “I have a gift, but don’t get too excited.”

He smiles warmly, grabbing the paper bag wrapped book from her hands. When he opens the gift, he smiles and thanks her. He’s sincere and he likes the gift and he’s entirely too nice. She smiles and laughs a bit when he starts to look through the booklet. “You can redeem the coupons whenever.”

He looks at her warily and takes a large gulp. He appears to pale with each new coupon he reads and she’s honestly so confused. “I can redeem any of these coupons?”

She laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “That’s the idea, dork.”

He closes the book and stares at her for a few moments. He manages, “So you’ll do any of these coupons?”

“Yes, Peter.” She chuckles, a bit exasperated. The concept really shouldn’t be this hard to grasp. She shakes her head and continues, “Just give me a little warning and yeah, of course. Any coupon.” She checks her watch and sighs. “On that note, let’s clean up tomorrow. Maybe you can redeem one of your coupons.”

Peter chokes and she looks at him quizzically. But she just shakes her head and walks to her room. She didn’t realize Peter would be so shook that she was offering to do his chores. She knew he didn’t like doing them, but honestly.

Surprisingly, however, Peter doesn’t use any of the coupons the next day. He just helps her clean and eyes her warily. Which, fine, if he doesn’t want to use her coupons, that’s on him. She won’t do his chores, then. She’s not upset that maybe he didn’t actually like the gift even though he seemed so excited about it. She’s not mad. She knows it was a silly gift. It’s all fine.

Until a Thursday night two weeks later when Peter is doing the dishes, which is his least favorite chore and Michelle knows that was one of the coupons, Michelle can’t take it. She snaps. Gently. “You know, if you don’t want to use the coupons, you can just throw them away or give them back.”

“What?” He whips around, mouth agape. “MJ, I-I, what-”

“You haven’t used any.” She pouts. She hates that she can never get him gifts he enjoys. “I can try to get you something else?”

“No!” He says a bit too quickly, taking a deep breath. “I mean.” He gulps. “Sorry. I just, got a little nervous about them.”

“Why?” MJ tilts her head, looking at him confused. “Peter, honestly, just use the coupons. Don’t worry about me. I gave them to you for a reason.” He’s far too noble.

“Just,” he holds up a hand, jumping a bit where he stands. “Give me one second and I’ll go get one.” So, Michelle waits. She walks over to the sink because she figures he’ll have her do the dishes. But, a few moments later, he comes running back with the whole booklet, flipping through. “Honestly, I’m still a little surprised so I’m not sure which one to use.”

She laughs. “Just choose the one you’d like to use, Parker. It’s not that hard.”

He gives her a meaningful look. “You’d be surprised.” He thumbs through the booklet. “You baffle me, honestly.” Then he blushes furiously and looks up at her, warily. “You’re sure about these coupons?”

“Yes, Peter!” She laughs, exasperated as she huffs a bit. He rips one of the coupons from the booklet and hands it to her nervously. She shakes her head but when she reads the coupon she does a double take. Oh. Oh. She’s gone and fucked it all up.

This coupon is good for a twenty minute make out session.

She fucking…why can’t she read? She glances at the booklet on the table and it’s decidedly…not a household chores coupon booklet. It’s got a couple on the front and lips and it’s titled Sexy Favors for Couples. Why is Peter’s costume the color of desire?

Now she gets his nerves. Why he was so confused. She’d be too. And her immediate thought is that she should tell him she made a mistake and she’s sorry and she’ll get him a new gift. But then she remembers that he, well, he wanted to use this coupon. He wants to make out with her for twenty minutes.

“Just to be sure,” she says quietly before finally meeting his eye again. “You want to use this coupon? Like, you don’t have to use it because I got you the gift.”

“Trust me.” He huffs. “I want to use it.” She doesn’t need any other go ahead so she rushes over to him and wraps her hands around his neck, pulling him forward so that their lips are locked.

It’s frantic and most likely reckless and a bad decision. But Michelle’s wanted to kiss Peter for the better part of five years now and God forbid she give up the opportunity now. Even if it’s not in the context she was hoping for. Even if she doesn’t know if Peter feels for her the way she feels for him. At least she can have this one thing.

She allows Peter to nudge her to their couch and they tumble on top of it. She opens her legs to cradle him between them and he moves his lips down to her neck. She gasps when he bites lightly, moving one hand from his back to his head so she can use his hair as an anchor. Her head is angled back so he can have easy access, and boy does he take advantage. He nips and sucks and laves, and MJ is in heaven.

But this is supposed to be for him. It was her gift to him. So, she flips them over as smoothly as she can (which isn’t all that smooth, but Peter still seems pleasantly surprised) and leans down to kiss him on the lips, filthy as she can. She even rolls her hips a little bit, which manages to make Peter gasp, so she’s pretty proud. She tries that one trick she learned from Harry in high school, and Peter loves it.

All in all, it’s a pretty successful make-out session. Especially given the fact that Michelle hasn’t made out with anyone in well over a year. (You can try to get her to admit it’s because of her feelings for Peter, but you’ll fail.) She doesn’t keep track, but she’s pretty sure they’ve been making out for more than twenty minutes. Not that either is complaining. But then MJ feels Peter’s excitement against her thigh and she figures that’s her cue to stop.

Peter’s face is slightly pink and he’s gasping for breath when she pulls away. He takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch and letting out a gentle and awed, “fuck.”

MJ laughs, kissing him lightly before she gets off of him. She doesn’t know how to react now that her crushing need to just kiss Peter Parker is gone. Well, at least for the time being. She doesn’t want to have to deal with a conversation right now because it’ll be complicated and he’ll tell her the coupons are fun but that’s all there is to it. She doesn’t want to deal with that right now.

She takes a deep breath and says, “Okay! I’ve got an early class tomorrow, so I’m going to head to bed. But let me know if you want to use another coupon.” Then she’s walking a little faster than natural to her room and closing the door quickly behind her, taking a deep breath as she leans her head against the wood. She tries to ignore the impending sense of doom that’s looming over her head.

What has she done?

#spiderman homecoming #spiderman: homecoming #spideychelle #michelle jones #peter parker #michelle x peter #peter x michelle #mj x peter #peter x mj #i write things #sh #otp: i'm just kidding i don't care #sex coupon shenanigans #it's so late rip me #i need to sleep #but here i am #posting fanfic

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barpurplewrites · 6 years

Text

Cancelled due to Snow

Follow up to Free Falling (AO3) (Tumblr)

A snowed-in, have to spend the night together fic, because Tis the Season. Enjoy :)

-x-x-x-

Belle peeled her gloves off and fumbled in her pocket for the keys to the office building. Chuck had sent everyone home two hours ago because of the worsening snow. Belle had made it to the station only for the trains to be delayed and then cancelled, buses to her side of the city had stopped hours before that, and there wasn’t a taxi to be found anywhere. She’d been faced with the choice of emptying her meagre savings account to stay in a hotel, or trudging back to the office. She was glad that she’d been made a key-holder now, although when Chuck ‘promoted’ her to the position she’d been annoyed because it meant she was left locking up more often than not. Spending the night at work wasn’t ideal, but it was either that or freeze while trying to find a taxi that would take her home.

She got the door open and staggered inside. It wasn’t much warmer in here, but she was out of the wind, so it felt like heaven. She was so busy stomping the snow from her boots that she didn’t hear the garage door open.

“Belle?”

She shrieked at the sound of the voice, and sagged in relief when she found Aiden clutching a thick tartan blanket, standing by the garage door. He lifted the blanket sheepishly and gave her a crooked grin.

“Sorry, I was just getting this from the car. What are you doing back here?”

It took her two attempts to get her teeth to stop chattering long enough to say, “Trains cancelled.”

Aiden hadn’t waited for her juddering answer before he’d started toward her and offered her his hand.

“Come on let’s get you up to my office I’ve got a heater and some soup.”

By the time they had reached their floor her teeth had stopped chattering a bit.

“How come you’re still here?”

He gave a nervous chuckle, “I might have left my car lights on this morning. The battery is flat, so I’m stuck.”

Belle nudged him with her shoulder; “You’ve not called Neal, have you?”

Aiden’s son was protective of him, which Aiden described fondly as nagging. The main point of said nagging was Aiden’s classic Jaguar, a beautiful car, but not the most reliable. He shook his head; “No, I’ve not. He’d only try to get here to give me a jump, in between lecturing me about how I need a new car.”

They made it into Aiden’s office now, and he waved a dramatic arm at the room.

“And besides, I’m set up very well for a snowy evening.”

Belle couldn’t argue with that; Aiden had a Dyson Hot+Cool fan, which had got the room nicely toasty, and his laptop was set up on the coffee table. He tossed the blanket on the sofa; “Get out of those wet things and I’ll warm us up some soup. It’s leak and potato, that okay?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

He headed off to the little kitchen their companies shared, and Belle peeled off her sodden coat, and draped it over the back of a chair. Thank God it had been casual Friday today, she was in jeans and a thick jumper instead of business attire, and sturdy boots that had kept her feet dry. She sat down on rubbed her hands together, she was really going to have to invent in some better gloves. The warmth seeped into her and she finally stopped shivering.

“Here we’re. Sorry about the mugs, we apparently have no bowls in the kitchen.”

“Oh, thank you,” – Belle took the mug of soup from him, - “I think we’ve only got paper plates, it’s our turn to restock.”

Aiden sat down next to her and blew on his soup, “It silly to keep ordering disposable things, I’ll talk to Chuck again about investing in some proper crockery.”

Belle huffed a wry laugh; “Yeah, good luck with that, I still can’t get him to replace those loose carpet tiles.”

Chuck did not like spending money on things that wouldn’t turn him an immediate profit, and Belle’s patient arguments about health and safety had been taken ‘under advisement’. Aiden grumbled under his breath; “I’ll talk to him about that as well,” – Belle gulped her mouthful of soup down, her eyes wide with worry, - “I’ll not mention you at all, Belle, but the tenancy contract is very clear about upkeep and he’s letting too much slide.”

Belle had to smile at that; “Well, you would know.”

An old Gold family friend own the building on Frederick Street that housed their companies, Aiden had explained proudly that the tenancy agreements were the first contract Neal had drawn up solo when he came to work with his father. Over the course of their lunches Belle had picked up that there was some difficult history between Aiden and his son, but the love they had for each other was clear.

“Any interesting customers today?”

Belle gave a dramatic shudder; “I had a lady shout at me for ten minutes because the Spanx she ordered were a con.”

Aiden frowned slightly; “Spanx, they the suck everything in knickers, aren’t they?”

“Them’s the ones, super stretchy, but they arrive looking ridiculously small, and that’s what she had a problem with, said we’d sent her doll’s clothes and were trying to con her out of her money. It was not a fun conversation.”

He laughed, “They don’t sound easy to put on.”

“They’re not, think modern day corset, but without the laces.”

“Ah, I understand, I take it they don’t come packaged with a maid to assist with getting them on?”

“Oh hell no.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments before she asked; “Anything new in the Gaston Saga?”

Now it was Aiden’s turn to groan; “I swear that lad was behind the door when common sense was handed out. He pouted for an hour today because I had him correct a file. He’d spelt the client’s name incorrectly, but was adamant that his way was the right one.”

Belle laughed, “So that’s what the ‘he’s had it since birth dinne ye no think it’s the way he says it it?’ was about. Katie and Penny had some colourful speculations.”

Aiden knew his voice carried between their offices when he shouted, he did try to keep it to a reasonable level, but Gaston would try the patience of a saint.

“It wouldn’t be so bad, but he is incapable of admitting a mistake, he’s still trying to blame Ariel for the prawn sandwich screw-up. We’ll have to see if he improves over the next month,” – he shook thoughts of his tiresome intern away and nodded at his laptop, - “I was going to put a movie on, any preferences?”

“Nothing with snow.”

He snapped his fingers and sighed with a wide grin on his face, “Ah well there goes my plan to watch Frozen.”

They settled on Hot Fuzz, because Belle couldn’t believe Aiden had never seen it. About halfway through laughing themselves silly at the film, Aiden pulled the blanket over them. He tried to be a gentleman and give Belle the lion’s share of the thick wool, but she shifted closer to his side, so they could share better.

“Is this alright.”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

Not five minutes later Aiden sighed and said; “Would you mind if I put my arm along the back of the sofa? I don’t want you to think I’m trying the old yawn and stretch, I just want to want to get comfortable.”

Belle didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she picked his hand up and scooted into his side, so she could drape his arm around her shoulder.

“How’s that?”

“Fine,” – he cleared his throat, - “Neal would have a fit of ‘I told you so’ if he saw us like this. He reckons you’ve been flirting with me.”

Belle bit her bottom lip, she’d be a fool to let opening like this slide by.

“I have been flirting with you Aiden.”

She felt him tense beside her, this wasn’t quite how she thought this would go. She eased away from him, so she could look at his face, which was currently wearing a look of stunned disbelief.

“Why?”

“Why do people normally flirt, Aiden?”

A brief look of confusion flickered over his face; “In my experience because they want something.”

Belle tilted her head to one side and looked him in the eye; “I’m flirting with you because I’m attracted to you, so I suppose in a sense I do want something, but if you don’t want the same thing then I’ll stop flirting, and we can be friends.”

The hesitant look on his face made Belle wonder if she’d just screwed up their developing friendship. If she had he wouldn’t want her near him tonight, she go and sleep in her own office rather than force her company on him. Although anxious butterflies were squirming in her stomach, she waited, this was a big step and she wasn’t going to rush him by assuming his rejection.

His eyes softened, and he slowly moved his hand to cup her face. She nuzzled into his touch and he sighed her name.

“Oh Belle.”

They leaned into each other and giggled as they both moved the same way and bumped noses. Aiden turned the accidental contact into an Eskimo kiss. Slowly they slid closer until their lips brushed. A shiver of delight raced down Belle’s spine and Aiden gave a soft moan. Hands tangled in hair, and with lips and tongues they explored each other’s mouths.

Belle pulled back a bit and drew in a deep breath; “We should slow down before we get carry away.”

Aiden nodded; “Good idea.”

For all their good intentions they kept kissing. In between tender butterfly kisses Aiden asked; “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

Belle eased back and shook her head; “Well apart from getting home and getting a change of clothes.”

“Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Neal blew on his hands as her got out of his car, and rolled his eyes at his Dad’s Jaguar. Trust him to come into work on a day like this. Neal was only here to pick up his gloves before he went to meet Emma in town. He ran up the stairs ready to give his Dad a bit a grief for driving on icy roads in that ancient car.

“Hey Pops! I’m just here for my gloves!”

He grabbed them from his desk and bounced into his Dad’s office, only to skid to a halt and whoop at the sight on the sofa. Pops was snuggled up on the sofa with his arms full of Belle.

Pops gave him a sheepish look and Belle gave him a little wave. Neal grinned; “And here I thought I’d find you slaving over a damn file, Pops. Morning Belle. Hang on have you guys been here all night?”

“Car battery’s flat.”

“Trains were cancelled.”

That was apparently all the explanation he was going to get, and he was feeling increasingly like a gooseberry. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and dropped them on the coffee table; “Here Pops take my car, I’m meeting Emma today, so you two, y’know have fun.”

“Thanks son, say hi to Emma for me. Bye.”

Neal took the hint and turned on his heal to leave, but he couldn’t resist popping his head back around the door and saying; “I told you so, Pops.”

“Bugger off, Son!”

Neal chuckled to himself all the way down the stairs. He couldn’t wait to tell Emma about this.

#rumbelle fic #snow

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not-a-space-alien · 7 years

Text

Your Own Side Outtake #2: Rekindling

Rating: G

Series masterpost

On AO3

Crowley’s last meeting with Ramial had taken him by surprise, so he hadn’t had time to be nervous at all. This time around, he had a full three days to worry about it.

They made plans via letter, then Crowley restlessly set about preparing. All his memories from before the fall were hazy, and he desperately tried to remember any details about the time he and Ramial had spent together. Not much came to him. All he could remember was something about Ramial breaking a harp, which didn’t seem very important.

The only thing that was clear to him was that they had been very, very close. Her name and face, and the associated feeling of home, was all he had to go on.

And he wondered if Ramial had anything more to go on. Was his memory clouded by the fall, or did he simply not have a good enough memory to recall things from six millennia ago with more clarity? He would find out, he guessed.

Aziraphale went out of town for a book fair of some sort, through Crowley suspected he just wanted to give Crowley his privacy. Ramial had asked about his car and whether they might work together to fix it, so Crowley decided they should meet at his flat since he had a spot in the attached garage where they could work.

It would be casual. Just dinner, a little activity together, nothing more. Something safe and easy.

That’s what Crowley kept telling himself, anyway. He hadn’t been this self-conscious and nervous to impress someone since before he and Aziraphale came to the Arrangement.

He got the food ready, set the table, and waited for the buzzer to ring. When it did, he waited twenty seconds before getting up to answer so as not to appear too eager.

He swung the door open. Only to see not Ramial’s face, but the armored breastplate of a warrior angel at eye level.

“Ah!” said Crowley, jumping back.

The warrior looked down on him stonily. “You are the demon Crowley?”

Crowley, sweating, answered, “Ah…depends…Has this Crowley fellow done anything to piss you off?”

The warrior angel did not respond, a sullen look on her face.

“Ah,” said Ramial’s voice, and she appeared beside the warrior, trying to squeeze past her into the doorway. “Seleniel, could you…”

The warrior angel angled herself ever so slightly, allowing Ramial to slide past and stand in front of Crowley. Ramial rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry about that, Crowley…I couldn’t convince her not to come.”

“A healer is defenseless without her warriors,” said Seleniel.

Ramial grimaced. “Right, er…Well, I only told Crowley to cook for two people.”

“I will wait outside,” said Seleniel. “And I will come in if I hear either of you raise your voice.”

“All right.”

The warrior stepped out and shut the door.

Ramial wrung her hands. “Sorry, er…Sorry.”

Crowley gave her his best reassuring smile. “It happens. I know how stubborn you angels can be.”

Ramial perked up a little.

“Come on, I’m ready to put dinner on the table.”

Ramial seated herself, and Crowley came out with their plates.

“Oh, this looks delicious.”

They both ate with small, polite bites.

“So…” Crowley began. “How have you been?”

“Oh, fine,” said Ramial. “You?”

“Well enough,” said Crowley.

Ramial crunched on a piece of celery. Crowley twirled his fork. Both of them mentally scrambled to drudge up a topic to begin a meaningful conversation.

“Do you remember that thing with the harp?” said Ramial.

“Yeah!” said Crowley.

“Oh, good,” said Ramial. “Good times. Right?”

Ramial seemed to be recalling it with a great deal more fondness than Crowley found appropriate for what appeared to him an unimportant memory. “Er....yeah.”

Ramial seemed a little disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm in his response, but she said nothing.

The clock ticked in the otherwise quiet room. They crunched their way through the food in silence.

Crowley couldn’t help but despair about the way things were going by the time he was clearing the plates without anything beyond superficial small talk under their belts.

“That was delicious,” said Ramial. “Thank you for cooking.”

“You’re welcome,” said Crowley. He had ordered takeout from down the street and warmed it in the oven to make it look like he had cooked it.

Ramial cleared her throat.

“Ah…Want to go take a look at the car?” said Crowley.

“Oh, yes!” said Ramial, perking up again.

Maybe the car would save them, Crowley hoped. Ramial went to the door and led the way to elevator.

Seleniel was still standing outside facing the door. Her position and disapproving expression hadn’t changed in the slightest.

“We’re going outside,” said Ramial.

“I will circle in the sky and watch,” said Seleniel.

“All right!”

Seleniel stepped to the side to let Crowley through. Ramial motored back to the elevator.

As Crowley went to walk past Seleniel, she caught his arm in a vice-like grip, leaned down, and growled into his ear, “If you hurt her, I’ll snap your spine in half.”

“Ah-ha-ha,” said Crowley, politely trying to remove his arm. “Aw, come on, a little shrimpy guy like me? What could I do to her?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Crowley didn’t know a thing and was sure he was missing something. And did he detect a hint of…jealousy?

“Everything all right?” called Ramial.

Seleniel released him, standing to the side and crossing her arms. Crowley hustled to the elevator before the doors closed.

They made their way to the garage without incident. Crowley pulled the Bentley out onto the pavement, below where Seleniel was circling in the sky like a hawk.

“It’s so cool,” said Ramial. “I’m so sorry I wrecked it.”

“She’s been through worse,” said Crowley. “I’ve already gotten the frame mostly back into shape.”

“How does it go?” said Ramial. “I know it doesn’t use miracles, but I can’t imagine how.”

“Ah,” said Crowley. “Well, you see, my car uses miracles, because otherwise it would take a lot of upkeep and boring rubbish that I don’t have time for. But usually, they—here, I’ll pop the bonnet open and show you.”

He exposed the car’s engine. Ramial looked at it with sparkles in her eyes.

“See, the spark plugs here—” He put his hands in the engine to show her. “—ignite the air-vapor mix sucked into the chamber by the motion of the pistons. The aerosolised gasoline creates an explosion that pumps the piston back up, and the piston turns a shaft that conveys the motion to the wheels. The…”

He trailed off as he realised Ramial was looking at him, not at the engine.

“You know so much cool stuff, Crowley,” said Ramial. “I was never allowed to go off by myself and do cool human stuff like this. I had to stay with the warriors.”

Crowley shut the bonnet. “Well, I can show you some stuff when you’re free, if you like.”

“How did you learn all this?” said Ramial. “This is the kind of thing field agents do.”

“I am a field agent.”

Ramial looked at him dully. “But…you’re a healer.”

“Ah, see,” Crowley said, tapping the side of his head. “That’s the thing. You know how in Heaven, when someone’s assigned a new role, they get Uriel to change their aura?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Hell doesn’t have anybody to do that. So everybody just kind of does whatever job they get their hands on. A healer could be a field agent, or even a warrior. A warrior could be a field agent, or try to be a healer.”

“Doesn’t sound very efficient.”

“It’s not,” said Crowley, laughing.

“And a Foundation could be a leader,” murmured Ramial.

Crowley fell silent. “Yeah.”

“Satan was a Foundation angel, wasn’t he?”

“Yes…I can’t remember exactly what he did, though. I’m not sure anyone can.”

“What was he like?” said Ramial, resting her arms on top of the Bentley. “Satan? I hardly remember him in Heaven.”

Crowley removed a wrench he had laid on top of the engine, fiddling with it. “Not as bad as everyone made him out to be….But still pretty bad.”

“You met him, then?”

“I guess you could say that. I’m one of the demons who’ve had the oh-so-great honour of being tortured by Satan himself.”

Ramial stared at him with horror. Crowley fiddled with the wrench.

“You were tortured?” said Ramial.

“Yeah, but not like it was the first time,” said Crowley, with forced casualness. “So I’m used to it. Usually I manage to get out of it, but every couple of centuries it just—” He motioned with his hand in no particular direction. “It just, you know. Happens.”

“That’s horrible,” said Ramial. She moved a bit closer to him, putting a hand on his arm.

“Aw, it’s not as bad as everyone thinks,” said Crowley. Even he was struck by how bizarrely cheerful his voice came out. “Usually just for a few hours. A nice light torture every now and then builds character.”

“You’re so strong, Crowley,” said Ramial, sounding like she wanted to cry. “I couldn’t imagine how I would deal with that. You’re so tough.”

“Well, it’s not like—” Crowley started.

Ramial cut him off by closing her eyes, leaning in, and kissing him.

Crowley dropped the wrench.

Crowley kept his eyes open as it happened, too surprised to register what was happening as Ramial’s hands made their way to his face, the kiss going on and on.

“Er, wait,” Crowley tried to say, but Ramial wouldn’t get her lips off his. Crowley planted one hand on the Bentley and with the other grabbed her arm.

When Ramial finally drew back, she had a huge smile on her face. “It’s just like when we kissed in Heaven.”

“W-we—we kissed in Heaven,” said Crowley flatly, knocking over a screwdriver that had been balanced on the bonnet.

“Yes,” said Ramial. “And it was just like that. I’m so happy. It’s exactly as it was. I was afraid you’d be so different, but we can pick up right where we left off.”

Crowley felt his knees wobbling, fearful of losing this fresh friendship at the very beginning of trying to restart it. “Ah—R-Ramial, I don’t….I mean, I didn’t—Well, Ramial, I think we might have had a slight miscommunication here.”

Ramial’s smile began to fade. “What do you mean?”

Sweating, Crowley looked in the sky where Seleniel was still circling, suddenly worried about his spine. “Well, I’m—I’m with Aziraphale.”

“Yeah,” said Ramial. “But he’s not here, so now you’re with me.”

“I—ahh,” said Crowley, rubbing his face. “How to explain this, uhh…I think you might not be understanding fully…The type of relationship I have with Aziraphale means you’re not supposed to be…intimate in a certain way with anyone else unless you’ve talked about it first.”

Ramial stared at him, as though processing. “Oh, do you mean…you’re…with him the way humans get with each other?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Ramial’s face grew red like a thermometer filling up. “Oh—Oh no! I didn’t know! I guess I just assumed—I—If I had known—I wouldn’t have—I’m so sorry! I’ve ruined it again! I’m such a fool!”

Relieved, Crowley put a hand on her arm. “You didn’t understand, it’s all right.”

Huffing, Ramial sat down on the pavement. “You understand everything so naturally, Crowley, and you’ve learned so much, and you’re this cool and interesting person and I…haven’t changed a single bit. I’m such a loser.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” said Crowley, sitting down by her. “Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself. Our situations are different.”

“I—I guess I had thought maybe we could go back to the way things were before... And didn’t realize things could have changed...And I thought about how nice it would be to be so close to someone again, but I could only picture it with you.”

“Oh no,” said Crowley, because now the entire picture of what had happened came crashing into him, that maybe a warrior who secretly had a crush on their unit’s healer had gone unnoticed because the healer had been too preoccupied obsessing over someone else she had lost, and when the three finally met, the warrior had only been able to express her frustration by threatening to snap the spine of the object of her unrequited love’s affection.

Ramial looked at him.

“Ramial, you didn’t…?” Crowley began. “I mean, if you felt lonely, you could have turned to the angels you were looking after.”

“I know healers usually get all the companionship they need from the camaraderie with their charges,” said Ramial. “But I…I felt like I wanted just one person…to be special to. To be special to each other. You know what I mean? But I just kept imagining you would feel betrayed, like I had abandoned you, if I...got too close to anyone else. But now I see that wasn’t the case.”

Floundering, Crowley tried, “Come on, Ramial. You’re not...” but trailed off without finishing his sentence.

“You’re right,” said Ramial. “I’m sorry. We’ve changed so much. It’s my fault for thinking it would be this simple.”

Crowley wrung his hands helplessly.

Ramial stood. “I think I’d better get going.”

“Aw, wait,” said Crowley. “I still want to be friends. I do, if you’d like that.”

“I’m not sure anymore, Crowley,” said Ramial. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on you and Aziraphale. The two of you don’t need me, and I don’t know if he’d like me hanging around you now that it’s obvious I...”

“Wait,” said Crowley, seizing his opportunity. “What if we do a double date?”

“Double?”

“You could bring someone else. I’ll drive all four of us to the Ritz.”

“All four?” said Ramial, looking overwhelmed.

“Me and Aziraphale, and you and whoever you like. You don’t have to be lonely.”

“But who would want to be special to me?” Ramial cried.

Crowley rubbed his temples, then gestured madly up into the sky.

Ramial followed his hands up to Seleniel. “Her? You don’t think…”

“You don’t like her?”

“No, I….I do. But I guess I didn’t think…she would like me.”

Seleniel had begun to descend towards them. “Geez,” said Crowley. “Use your imagination a little.”

Seleniel alighted on the pavement a respectable distance away from him. “Ramial,” she said. “I just received word the commander wants us back at HQ right away.”

“Oh,” said Ramial. “Okay, let’s go, then.” She turned back to Crowley. “One more hug?”

He gave her one.

“Thanks,” she said.

Crowley waved as she walked back over to Seleniel.

“If we get in trouble for leaving our posts,” said Seleniel, “I’ll say it was my idea.”

Ramial looked her up and down with fresh perspective, as though realizing a hidden motivation behind all of Seleniel’s past actions. “All…all right.”

Crowley watched them fly off together, then finished the work on the Bentley himself. When he came back into his flat, he found a letter in his inbox on celestial parchment.

Crowley,

How about that double date on Thursday?

-Ramial

#good omens #my writing #my good omens fanfic

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mrwineguy-blog · 7 years

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Whether you think you can or you think you can't, either way you're right. — Henry Ford

Hello everyone,

My name is Michael Gallagher and I live in Boynton Beach, FL. I’m 34 years old and have an amazing wife Jennifer, as well as two furry doggies Maci and Rusty. We can refer to them as kiddies! I didn’t grow up in FL but I feel like I’ve spent most of my life here…most of my life being my journey that is. I grew up in Southern IL in a little town called Metropolis. My high school graduation class consisted of 144 students. I hear that’s a good size auditorium class in most parts of the country. Needless to say there isn’t a whole lot going on in my “home away from home.”

On my mom’s side of the family I grew up on our family farm and spent a majority of my early life helping my grandfather and uncle’s with the traditional farming, bush-hogging, throwing bails of hay, even building and constructing grain bins. You name it, I was always available to lend a hand. Now I’m going to tell you, I have a lot of respect for my family and what they have done over the years. My grandfather is a well respected man and has definitely earned a name for himself. My two uncle’s knew right away this was what they wanted to do and worked toward the family business early on. There’s not a weak or selfish bone in any of their body’s and that’s why I love and respect them like I do. I’m saying this because as noble as it may have been, I knew in my heart that I wasn’t meant to become a farmer. I just felt like there was more out there for me and at the time I may or may not have realized it but I did know one thing, I knew one day I was going to make it big, bigger than anyone in my town could have ever imagined!

On my dad’s side of the family my grandfather owned a burial service company. Basically they would prepare burial vaults and upkeep the cemetery from mowing, to any type of maintenance you could think of. My grandfather had about 5 or 6 men that worked for him so as much as I would have helped, there wasn’t a whole lot of room for me to get involved, although I did lend a hand from time to time. My father was actually one of the men who worked for my grandfather. We lived next door to the business so it wasn’t anything to see me running around “the building” during the day when everyone was at work. I was between the ages of 8-14 during this time so if there was mischief to get into, I probably wasn’t hard to find. I’ll never forget one day I knocked over a 5 gallon bucket of motor oil and it pooled out everywhere in one of the work areas. My grandfather found out and told me I wasn’t allowed in the building again until I was 50. He wasn’t serious of course but then again I wonder how much he was joking. Occasionally he would see me running around the property in general and remind me of my ban, as well as tell me that my stepmom Marilyn was calling me, insinuating I should probably run off or go back home. My nickname was Mick growing up so I can’t tell you how many times I heard the words, “Mick, I think Marilyn is calling you!” No matter if he was around the corner or within an earshot he made sure to get the point across every time. I never truly disappointed my grandfather but I always wondered if he knew how much I loved him.

You see, this side of the family wasn’t like my experience with the other side. I always felt like I was working a lot harder to gain recognition for anything I did. My parents divorced when I was 4 and as far back as I can remember my father wasn’t exactly the best role model in the world. He had a bad reputation, especially coming from a small town perspective so from the beginning I had an uphill battle, which I was ok with. For some reason I felt better knowing I had something to prove, something to show everyone that ever wanted to doubt me. Now it’s easy for me to just throw all the “blame” on things such as my father for example, but I can’t sit here and profess to be someone I am, even someone I’m trying to become if all I do is point the finger. My father may have had a bad reputation and he may not have been there for me like I needed growing up, but that doesn’t mean I should be judgmental toward him as a result. He’s my father and I wasn’t perfect growing up either. It was my responsibility to be the best person that I could be regardless if he was present like I needed or not.

I’ll never forget I was really good at basketball growing up. I averaged around 20 points a game, 5-10 boards, a handful of assists and rarely fouled out. I managed myself well in the game and everyone knew how good I was. I always asked my dad to come to my games, which he very rarely did, but one night in particular he actually showed up to one of my home games in the 8th grade. It’s funny because he chose to sit eye level right behind the goal, almost like another challenge for me to succeed being under constant supervision…aside from the fact that I had a game to play. Completely nervous and terrified I knew what I needed to do so I played my heart out. At the end of the game we won and I had 28 points on the night, I wanna say 8 assists as well. I was now set on showing my dad every game how much he had missed out and just how good I truly was. That was the last game my dad ever came to. I look back on this now and even though he never came to another game I still loved him just the same. It would have been easier for me though if he showed a little compassion every once in a while but regardless, it was still my responsibility to love him and appreciate him. I’m sure he didn’t truly want to let me down, so why should I be so quick to cast him away like I probably “should have.”

My mother on the other hand was my primary source of survival. She always tried her hardest and never missed an opportunity to let me know how much she cared for and loved me. Growing up may have been rough and lonely at times but it was absolutely what has molded me into the person I am today. No road is ever perfect in life and I think the ones that are the most bumpy truly define ones character much more than the others.

In my senior year of high school I knew I needed to do something with my life. My grades weren’t anything special, (out of 144 students, I graduated 72 in my class…consider that.) At the time, I didn’t know what I wanted to do but after hearing a Navy recruiter talk to a few of my classmates one day I was convinced I was going to join the Navy. Nine months prior to graduating high school I signed delayed-entry paperwork and readied myself to leave my home town and “Let the journey begin.” This wasn’t a hard decision because like I said, there wasn’t a whole lot going on in my town. I never partied in high school, never experimented with drugs, hardly dated, all I did with my leisure time was spend it with my fellow church friends at our southern baptist church. We were an active youth group and part of a great church family. We went on ski trips, mission trips, bible studies galore, just about everything you could imagine. We were active and that was good because it kept us out of trouble. I really grew a lot within that youth group and I’ll never forget the impact they made on my life!

Joining the Navy in 2001 was where I truly grew up. I was stationed in Jacksonville, FL and started to learn real quick that the world can be a hard and cruel place. This was where I finally knew what it meant to make it, to survive without anyone there to catch me if I fell. The Navy was a time in my life, a decision that I’ll never regret. Even though the Navy gave me the tools I needed to survive and be the man that I’ve become today, I knew it wasn’t what I truly wanted to do to become successful.

In 2008 in Jacksonville, I met my beautiful wife Jennifer on the beach. The weather was perfect and the beach was packed that day. A couple friends and I were throwing a football around when I noticed Jennifer and her sister sitting up toward the entrance to the beach. I told my one friend to get his 2 year old daughter Danica and have her go over to those “girls” and throw the football down at them, just so I could make the move. Well luckily, it all panned out and I’m here today proudly calling that woman my wife! At that time I had an instant goal and I knew I was willing to do whatever I had to do to obtain it.

Jennifer and I would date for approximately 2 and a half years and eventually got engaged for a year and a half before we married. I asked Jen to be my wife at our favorite restaurant Sambuca in Nashville, TN where we lived. Her sister Michelle was in town celebrating her birthday so at dinner I had a very important task at hand. I needed to manage a way to surprise Jen with my proposal as well as surprise Michelle with a birthday dinner, all on the same night and same place, while conspiring with both parties. Fortunately everything worked out flawlessly and by the end of the evening I was up on a stage in front of hundreds of people asking the woman of my dreams to marry me.

Nashville is where I discovered that I had a passion for wine. It wasn’t much at first but it was intriguing to say the least. I didn’t realize it but this passion would end up becoming my calling. It started when I was working at a local bistro restaurant in Franklin, TN. One day in our PDR (Private Dining Room) we were doing training on bottle service, specifically bottle presentation and wine etiquette at the table. I had no idea anyone could even order a bottle of wine at the table, let alone there was some formality to it. Here I was working at this bistro for over a month and I thought, if someone orders wine from me I’ll probably have to crawl in a hole after it’s all said and done. Fortunately I studied hard and often, asked tons of questions and formulated methods to doing the best presentation I could possibly master. Nobody ordered any wine from me around that time which may or may not have been a blessing although there was more money to be made when more money was spent. Along with that came knowing the wines, knowing where they came from, knowing the history of the grapes and the winemakers, knowing what foods to pair what wines with, so on and so forth. I had only scratched the scratch of the surface and didn’t even realize it, but it didn’t matter to me. Wine in general was starting to become very intriguing to me and I wanted to know more!

Eventually Jennifer and I decided to move to South FL and start fresh. We realized we had nothing holding us to TN and were still relatively young, so why stay in TN if we didn’t have to. Fortunately we didn’t have a plan, and I say fortunately because we knew we had a vision and a goal to be something great and when you have dreams and goals, as well as a strong person by your side who is the same way, you can have, be, and do anything you want! Funny thing because Jennifer’s first job once we settled in FL was selling wine. I took my previous restaurant work and focused on picking up where I left off in TN. I received a couple decent jobs but nothing that stuck so I eventually found another job at a much more substantial restaurant. The actual property had a 5 start hotel attached to it and the owners own some of the countries most popular wine labels in the business. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had just upgraded my pretty good job in TN to something much more accomplished. This would mean more knowledge of wine and more opportunities to grow in something I only had a grasp of. When I interviewed for the server position in the restaurant, the manager asked me a few questions about wine, some of which I knew very well. One question I didn’t know the answer to was, “name the 5 grape varietals found in a Bordeaux.” I may have known 3. This alone can squash you of any opportunity in this business because you have to know certain things to be hired. This manager saw something in me and hired me anyway. He knew there was something about me worth keeping.

I would eventually work in this restaurant for 2 and a half years at a very successful rate and during this time, as much as I loved wine, I did not love waiting tables. I appreciated what waiting tables brought to me as far as the knowledge, my regulars and/or connections, money obviously, but I knew I didn’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I started looking into the medical program and more specifically becoming a Firefighter. It was somewhat relatable to my Navy days with the structure and comradery easily comparable.

In January of 2014 I left my job at the restaurant to focus on my state exam for EMT, as well as focus on enrollment in the Firefighter program. I knew it was important to devote my time to this while I was moving toward a career in the Fire service. Fortunately for me, I didn’t exactly fulfill my plans of becoming a firefighter right away. My grades weren’t sufficient enough for me to continue and as a result, I was dropped from the program about half way through the course. This also happened to me in EMT. All in all I took EMT and Fire both twice which to most people may have looked pretty bad. To me, which is why I’m so fortunate, I was able to find comfort and redemption in it because it reminded me of how hard I knew I had to work towards those goals, goals that I wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of. Persistence truly does pay off!

Jennifer had enough of corporate America and wanted to follow her dreams as an entrepreneur and start her own workout clothing line, Hallow + Plank. One of the reasons for moving to FL was allowing her to eventually do this and be closer to the industry and market that she felt would allow her business to thrive. Now, getting hired in the fire service is hard…very hard. Some people it takes years to get hired and some never even get the chance. Not to mention it’s nice if municipalities are even hiring to begin with. They say for each Firefighter class of students, maybe ¼ of them will get “picked up.” I never let that bother or hinder me and continued to focus on my goal and chief-aim of becoming a Fireman. I not only got hired once as a Firefighter, but I was hired again by another municipality, not to mention I was the first person in my class to get picked up. In fact, my first department hired 8 people from a stack of 2,000+ applicants during my first eligible hiring phase; I was the 7th person selected. The other department was a better fit for me so I took that job within a year of the other.

During all this time I never lost my love for wine. I still found myself spending hours online looking at auction sites, reading articles and books about various wines, purchasing different wines which at times could take up to hours in the store. Before I knew it, an hour had gone by and I didn’t even realize it. I knew most of the wines I was looking at, but it was a matter of picking the right ones at the right time. Never the less, I loved just being in the atmosphere surrounded by everything in general.

Now I’ve come to a point where I realize that following my dreams is more important than ever. My wife’s business is doing well and she’s constantly learning and improving on things everyday. Ultimately our goal is to live in California where Jen will take Hallow + Plank to the next level and I’ll work in the wine industry where I want to be. My whole life has been a journey that more and more is proving itself to me as the days go by.

Now as far as why I’m here. This blog is an opportunity for me to do a couple things: First, I want to learn as much as I can. I know I’m the one writing the blog but there’s so much to learn in this industry about wine, food, friends and family, ambitions, just life in general. I will never suggest that what I think is always correct or that the information I’m presenting is absolute. A lot of the times I think in life we are so quick to offer what we think, that we shut off our ears for the opportunity to actually learn. God gave us 2 ears and one mouth or one hand when writing…so use them proportionally. The next thing I want to do is empower or inspire others to succeed. We can all learn something from each other so it’s always a win-win when multiple people are on board with one particular topic or concept.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I look forward to hearing from you and sharing the things that I think we can all benefit from. Wine is a journey that brings people together and I can’t wait to go on this journey with you!

Cheers

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notsofly · 5 years

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Ties in Blood Chapter 26

@mrswhozeewhatsis @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @winchestergirl-13 @percussiongirl2017 @squirrelnotsam