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kth1 · 4 years

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Crosscurrents [Hoseok X Reader] Part 2

Crosscurrents - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Genre: The Little Mermaid AU | Fantasy AU | Series Pairing: Mermaid!Hoseok x Princess!Reader Featuring: BTS Princes Warnings: Angst, fluff, rated G, sorry no smut, mentions of pain, eventual character death, it’s just a fantasy story. pining, angsty? W/C: 8.8k Summary: Hoseok is a carefree middle child among seven princes, each running one of the seven seas. With a curious nature to study the world above, he makes several routine visits to the surface, once even saving an alluring princess who he grows very smitten by. With a strong determination to meet his lovely princess, Hoseok makes a risky deal with the ocean’s enchantress to become human. Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait, but I am still very happy about this story. Now finals and my semester is over - I can continue updating. Thank you all who support me. Portions of the fic is unedited. 🐚🧜‍♂️

Credits: Story includes strong elements from Hans Christian Andersen’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; Disney’s ‘The Little Mermaid’; and Michiko Yokote’s manga ‘Mermaid Melody’.

☀ CROSSCURRENT MASTERLIST ☀

The aqua prince now knew where his beloved princess lived, after revisiting the area nearly every evening after the first time. He often would approach closer to the land each time, venturing further than any of his brothers ever had to the shoreline. As Hoseok still remembered the touch of dry sand on his slimy tail, the foreign air of fresh land right under his body.

Daringly, the carefree and curious prince even swam up the narrow channel that led under the marble balcony that belonged to the princess. During bright moonlit nights he would only invite himself here so he could watch the princess stare off into the sea, where she believed she was all alone. Little did she know, she had a secret admirer in awe from below.

Human beings in general became more and more dear to Hoseok. Days of eavesdropping on humans within the green reeds of the bank who were sailing the water, listening to their stories and conversations in hiding. Stumbling upon fishermen who casted their nets near the beacon’s light, and if anyone on the dock noticed the rustling of his long aqua tail that treaded water, they excused the sounds to wallowing gulls.

Hoseok was happy when he reminisced about the time he had saved the young princess, hearing about her noble actions and performances. She was told of having a heavenly way with her ballroom dance, knowing several styles of movement. He wished he could see her act with his own eyes and to show her one of his.

In time, Hoseok wished that he were one of them; a human that is. Their large world seemed much extravagant than that of the mer-people. Humans can fly above the ocean in their ships, they can ride around in these carriages pulled by large animals called horses, even humans could climb to the top of those beautiful snow tipped mountains that poked their peaks above the clouds. The land they stand on outstretched further than Hoseok could ever imagine, and there was a whole world around him that he wishes to learn about. He had many dreams and desires, his mind craved explanations.

“Do men live forever? Do they die just as us? How long of a life do they live? What happens to them when they pass?”

Hoseok knows these answers for his species, he knows what happens among merfolk and especially what shall happen with royalty. They become foam on the sea, diminish into bubbles into the water. When one royal dies, another is birthed.

These ongoing thoughts horded the capacity of Hoseok’s naïve mind. His passion for above became a sudden obsession, that princess became more of a worship. “Maybe I’ll get some more answers tonight,” he thought as he travels with the current to the north Pacific Ocean, home of the playful salmon pink Prince Jimin.

This lovely evening, we have a court ball. A ball which held dancing mermen and mermaids to the melodies of the singers and composers. A watering hole of very thick crystal walls, so clear and pristine that the illuminating lights from mussel-shells which decorated in rows along them blared through effortlessly. Numberless fish and folk who swam through the lights would flash their glorious colored tails that amplified within these beams.

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook all danced wonderfully. Linking arms together and with others, displaying their methodologies. They shared many dances with men and women, children even.

Lights gleamed like a galaxy in the subterranean sea, all sparkling like the stars in the night sky. Beautiful pinks, greens, and purples garnished the saloon, ravishing plants and twines tangled around pillars.

The sweet sensual voices of Seokjin and Taehyung filled the room in a magical duet. Back-up singers harmonizing along with their symphony as Namjoon and Yoongi remained lost in their own worlds of instruments.

Jimin twirled around the aqua prince’s tail like a feather, light and soft. Prince Jimin’s eyes were brighter than any blue tail that ever existed, a translucent aquamarine color – no – a luminous crystal blue. A mesmerizing shimmer tinted the orbs in the sunlight as how a cracked geode rock would sparkle.

His hair, much like his tail and lips, were mixes of rose, coral and peaches. Shades fading in and out of another elegantly. He was such a bubbly child – bashful even as everyone could recall times the young Prince would grow embarrassed and the rising pink of his skin would soon match his tail. Jimin danced the best contemporary dance in all of the seas, naturally wiggling his body in expert stretches.

“How have you been, brother?” He hushed his words through a wave of his arms, continuing to dance along to the music with Hoseok. “You look… different.”

Hoseok matched Jimin’s movement, picking up the pace to a slow tempo. “I’ve been doing well.”

The words fell bleakly between the two, Jimin realizing that there was no enthusiasm resonating from Hoseok – no energetic fields sparkling through the waters. Jimin’s intuition can pick up the sudden change of behavior, and he grew nervous for the reasons why his older brother insisted on lying to his face.

“It’s not polite to fib – especially about your feelings.”

Hoseok grabbed ahold of Jimin’s wrist, spinning the pink tailed merman in a quick fluid motion. Dancing around having a private conversation was difficult when they were surrounded with several fish who are also doing the same. A curious ear could overhear them, and Hoseok did not wish to share his secrets to the public.

By the spin of Jimin, Hoseok’s eye catches something – rather, something missing. The chain that snugged around Jimin’s slim waist was colorless, missing its shining pink bead.

“Where is your pearl?” the aqua prince distressed.

Jimin’s crystal eyes avoided Hoseok’s almond ones, swallowing thickly as a shade of pink started breaking through at the tips of his ears. “Come brother, I must show you something.”

Whilst the mermen, mermaids, and fish were still dancing and singing in the palace, the two troublesome brothers stole away past the walls of the pink palace. Swimming freely into the open ocean while being accompanied by their little companions.

Kiko deliberately begged Hoseok to remain back in Jimin’s home, not wanting to cause another mishap event of a storm like the one that happened times prior to when anyone has upset the Mer-King. But the merman ignored his friend, insisting that everything will be alright.

“Jimin where are you taking me?”

“Just a bit further – I promise you will be surprised.”

Soon enough Jimin led Hoseok into a lengthy cave, a narrow cavern filled with sumptuous jewels, gems, and stones. A pleasure-loving treasure of a chamber that was hollowed out, and in the cavity of the cave – past the dark spaces and cracks – they peered up into a grotto. Crystalline formations that grew down from the ceiling, limestones, calcium carbonate and other minerals lined the walls and rocks.

The scene before them was a magical starry canvas. Nothing in any of their realms nor the human world looked better or more extravagant than this place.

“I found this place when I was little, following a stubborn little marine invertebrate.” Jimin narrowed his eyes down at his sticky pet starfish, Bo, that was latching onto his shoulder. “This little guy was a feisty one, but I’m forever grateful that he led me here. Just look.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened around him, eyebrows shot high into his hairline. His thoughts were all about the mystical creations around him until Jimin cut his train of thought.

“It’s what happens when two worlds connect, the sea and the land.” Jimin admired around with a soft smile on his lips.

“Two worlds?” he wondered. “But wait – this doesn’t explain where your pearl is? You have it don’t you? You can’t lose it!”

Jimin chuckled, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I do not have my pearl.”

Hoseok hovered around, looking at all the jewels and gems that surrounded the two mermen. Anxiety rising from his fins, “Jimin your palace –“

“Is still in great condition, is it not?”

In fact, Jimin’s kingdom was in fantastic shape. Even with the lack of his magical pearl. The ball was extravagant, faces were happy, and his realm was healthy and clear.

“It is.” Hoseok confirmed. “But how?”

Jimin smiled gleefully, satisfied and at complete ease as he hopped up his thin body onto a rock. The pink prince shrugged, “I’m not sure actually. Maybe they aren’t as powerful as we were told. Though they are one of a kind.” Jimin stared at the pearl that dangled off Hoseok’s ear.

“I like to think that they work for anyone who has a good heart. They keep the realm alive with their being.”

Curious, Hoseok pushed for further explanation. “So, if you don’t have it then… you gave it to someone else?”

“Mhm.”

“Jimin?! You can’t just do that – do you have suds in your brain!?”

Jimin’s eyes crinkled with his wide cutesy smile, unbothered at the world. Innocence exuding out from his face. “Perhaps.”

The cavern twinkled around the reflecting lights, blossoming of precious stones and glows from each crevice of the room. Hoseok’s voice echoed off the structured walls along with the silence drips of the moistened stalactites that elongated from the top.

“Who did you give it to?” Hoseok was furious, getting ready to blow up on his younger pink scaled brother until a shuffling noise distracted him, causing him to twist his head in the direction of the sound.

“Her.” Jimin drew his breath in, watching a shadowed movement draw closer. A padding of feet rushed their way into the corner of the grotto where an opening that was not seen before now was. Entered, a small child, with curly blonde and frizzy hair as light as the clouds, stepped in view. She bared her feet, stepping on the smooth flooring below her in a flowing flower sundress.

Hoseok was quick to duck for cover – trying to pull his brother along but remained puzzled how he refused to move. Jimin sat proudly atop his perch, staring at the young child who’s face lit up with merriment.

“Jiminie!” she squeals. “You came to visit me!”

Frightened, Hoseok sunk further below the water. This is going against everything, why is Jimin speaking to a human? Why did he give his pearl to her? He angrily whispered towards the ditzy prince that waved his arm towards the child, “What are you doing!?”

“I’ve brought a friend, little one! Would you care to meet him?” Jimin outstretched his hand towards his brother who hid behind a rock who returned glare at him. Seeing the disproving stare from Hoseok, he spoke down towards to him, “She’s safe, believe me.”

The curious kid stepped closer to the edge of the grotto, before the land dipped into the water as she waited with anticipation. She pondered the words her friendly pink merman spoke, eyes full of wonder as she looked over to him.

Hesitantly Hoseok poked his head out slowly, making eye contact with the blonde bundle of curls. She stood on her tiptoes with excitement, seeing another pretty face that blended well with the sparkling cave. “Hello!” she squeaked.

It felt uncanny, so unnatural for Hoseok to be approached by a creature with legs and not fins. An unreal wave of relief washed over the merman as the child’s instant presence seemed pure. “Hello.”

“Are you a prince like Jiminie? Are you pink like him too?” She questioned, now landing herself on her knees so she can creep closer to the water. Jimin gleamed with amusement, adoring the young little human who he grew acquainted with over time.

Jimin felt the passion within this little being, relating her curiosity of the sea with Hoseok’s interests with the land. In many ways these two were very much alike and he was ecstatic for them to meet.

For the first time this night, Jimin witnessed a genuine smile turnup on Hoseok’s lips. The aqua tailed man moved toward the small being who knelt by the edge. He flipped his tail up out of the water, flashing his fins with a loud splash. Trickles of water cascaded from the air onto surrounding areas of terrain causing the child to giggle.

“Precisely, I am a prince just as Jimin.”

Jimin swam up besides his brother, guiding him closer to the little girl. He smiled towards her as he raised his hand for her to meet his. Together they connected, her little hand much smaller than Jimin’s and a small glow of gold originated between their touch. “See – she’s good. I trust her.”

At closer inspection Hoseok noticed the chain around the child’s neck that had a glass trinket which encased a pink pearl – Jimin’s unique bead. That too glowed a radiating gold shimmer.

“I wish I had a pretty tail like you two!” She looked mournfully at the two clumsy props of bare legs she owned. “Silly legs!” She shouted down with a huff.

“Oh, but with a tail – you could not get back home.” Jimin tested. “We wouldn’t want that now. You’d miss your parents, your family. Even your bed.” He smirked, teasing the little girl.

Hoseok stood witness as he watched the interaction between human and merman. It wasn’t quite like how his interaction was with his beautiful princess back home, but there was a sincere aura radiating between the two that gave him hope for something.

“What color would I have, I wonder!” Her wide eyes scanned both of the mermen’s faces, taking in their distinctive differences.

Jimin smiled wide, eyes forming crescents. “Oh darling, I think pink would suite you very well. A beautiful plush pink for the young angel.” He pokes her nose.

“We should head back before it gets too late. I will visit another time, alright? Keep my gift safe and sound!” Jimin bid the pouting child farewell before descending down back the narrow crevices they entered.

They swam leisurely back to Jimin’s palace, Jimin humming melodic tunes to himself. The clear water was waving like a light breeze, the seabed littered with various plants and scrubs of all colorations.

“Why’d you give her your pearl?” Hoseok questioned out in the blue.

Jimin spun himself around, looking up towards the plane of water way high above the floating mermen. “She is true. I grew to know her over time. I feel no threat from her, and I trust she won’t speak of me to others. I want her to always remember me.”

Hoseok’s thoughts soon returned to the world above him as he could not forget his beauteous princess. And he could not control his craving to meet her. Experiencing a merman and human interact as Jimin did with his, Hoseok was sure he could trust the lovely woman he is fascinated with. Deep down in his heart he hopes she will be accepting of him.

One thing stood out from is encounter with Jimin and the little girl. What struck him was how she wished to be a mermaid – one with a beautiful scaly tail. Why would she dream this when she had legs?

Hoseok hovered around his human-decorative study again, a place he consistently escaped to when he had the free time. He eyed the handheld mirror, the compass that lost its pointing needle giving the device worthlessness, even feathering his fingers through the chest full of useless goods. He stumbled upon a painting, a portrait of a bright and sunny day with land lovers dancing on a street. Building’s surrounding the pairs that were grouped together in a gestured dance.

It then hit him, “A pair of legs for a tail – and a tail for legs.” He grumbled to himself looking down at his slimy speckled tail, fins and all. Kiko who has been loitering around the area shifted towards her merman, “Hoseok…”

“I have an idea Kiko, though you may not like it.”

“When do I ever?”

Hoseok snickered, sighing down at his dazzling leafy sea-friend. He brushes his hands through her leaves, scratching underneath Kiko’s keel. “I’m more grateful than you may think. Please don’t be upset with me.”

Kiko rested in the hands of Hoseok, shimmying herself comfortable. The look in her eyes showed regret and worry, though she waited for her prince – her friend – to continue his thoughts.

“I must travel past the whirlpool. Where the seagrass nor flowers bloomed – grey sands expanding to heavens know where. Where waters were dark, whizzing around in strong forces. To the current that doesn’t connect to ours, the abyss down below. I need to go to the enchantress.”

“No!” Kiko jolted, frantically shaking her leaves. “You can’t! You know that. She’s a demon, a – a monster!”

“I’m going. The witch will be able to help. She’s the only one who could advise me.”

The thought of seeing his princess on two legs gave Hoseok the courage he needed to proceed with his foolish actions. He had traveled to where no merfolk dared to go. Advancing his body though the tough of the whirlpool – pass the boiling under gasses, a thick heavily bog that shrouded the turf.

The enchantress lived in a horrid place, all the trees and bushes were gloomy and of dying bowiea weeds. Serpents shooting up out of the ground with lengthy branches that tickled with disgusting fingers of worms. Polypi dressing the skirts of the seafloor and clustering up this wooded area.

Every plant was twisted and mangled in its own way, clutching onto random items. Skeletons of a number of fish and human beings who had drowned were in the grasps of these eager unseemly trees. He swiftly made his way through these bushes and herbs of horror, arriving to a small place that was occupied by large sluggish snails. In the middle of this terrain, stood a house build of broken shards of ships, bones, and shattered mussels.

Along the entrance way to this house floated a darkened figure, cloaked with a slick seaweed. It turned to face the colorful prince who peered over towards it. A loud cackle noise up roared from the witch; her shoulders shook with each breath. “Oh my – what honor do I have here? Prince of the South Atlantic. What a delicate blue tail you have.”

Hoseok stood still in his area, eyeing the being before him. Tentacles dragged beyond her, her writhing arms dangled to her sides and pieces of her hair abnormally distorted around her head in a wicked manner.

“You know me?”

“I know much. Well. I hear many. I see most,” said she to the aqua blue prince. “I know what you want, and it’s quite mindless. Yet I shall assist you, for a price.” The sorceress hovered; brushing pass her field of snails. “You wish to get rid of your tail for a set of those dainty stilts like those pathetic humans have. You fancy a princess above the water. So, I’ve heard.” The wicked woman snickered.

“What a pity, such gorgeous of blues to be snuffed out. But nonetheless, I shall help royalty with no delay.”

“You will?” Hoseok hoped, enthusiastic to the mysterious witch. “What do I owe for your time?”

The enchantress turned towards the opening of her house, floating down into the pit of it. “Come child, I shall show you.”

A large cauldron rested in the middle of the singular room; every moment new ingredients were thrown into the slump of its dome. Mixed smoke and foams sizzling throughout the water. “I will make you a potion – one you will drink as you make it up to the surface. You shall sit on the coast and swallow it whole, and then your tail of beautiful aqua and gold will shrivel and shrink from under you – to things which men call legs.”

Another puff of smoke plumed in the water, a zap of her ingredients fusing together in a rancid smell. “This transformation will be extremely painful after all; you will feel as if a sharp blade passed through your body though no blood shall spill. You’ll retain that beautiful face of yours, your undulation movements of dance. Light on your feet, throughout days on land it will grow to be more difficult to walk. Imagine thousands of blades slicing through your soles with each step you take.”

Hoseok watched the cauldron fill to the brim, gooey discolored liquids lofting around like a stew. He listened intensely to the warnings of the sea witch, but his dedication held strong within him. “You haven’t told me what the price is.”

The witch cackled once more, cutting her arm to allow thick black blood drip down into the pot. “Your voice is the price I ask.”

Hoseok trembled watching the potion being concocted in front of his own eyes. A level on uncertainty settling in the pit of his stomach. “How long do I have?”

“Until your princess falls in love – shall decide your fate. If you seek the princess’s heart, love to such degree that she leaves her family for you, that you flood her mind and wishes – you will remain human. If sorrowfully on the day she is united to another will you see your sadness. Forced back into a merman and you will surrender your kingdom to me.”

“But if you take my voice from me,” spoke the aqua tailed prince, “What do I have to charm the princess? How am I going to communicate with her?”

“Your graceful form of course,” replied the sorceress. “Your speaking eyes, that handsome face that you bestow. You can infatuate a vain meek human heart with your beauty, can you not? Your dance speaks wonders – I’ve heard many stories.” Her arm laced around the shoulder of the prince, eyeing the dangling pearl that hung from his lobe.

“Now speak into my shell,” she held a conch in his view. “Speak to the sea in return for my magic drink.”

And so, he spoke, whispers of nothings but wishes, of thanks, and hopes. His orotund voice slowly being sucked away by a magical blue hue that breathed from his mouth to the inners of the magical conch.

The witch handed a vial of the finished potion, a translucent liquid that swirled around a clear glass. “Remember to swallow all and prepare yourself for the pain.” Her witch laugh resounded loud through the room.

Hoseok trailed back the same way he came, through the heavily wooded thicket of long polypi that bent away from him the moment he drew near. The foaming streams produced from the buzzing whirlpool laid still as he entered. Scrubs and plants dissipating with his presence.

Once he returned back to his home it was late; lamps in the apartments of the palace were extinguished, families were fast asleep. His halls were dimly lit, the garden shimmered in the moonlight, and his room pitch dark. He was voiceless, the words he wishes to spill to his dear friend Kiko will never reach her. But he chose to try, to gain her attention in her own little quarters.

At her wake she was startled, it was the middle of the night though she heard no noise from Hoseok. His hand tapped on his throat multiple times, signaling a language of no speech. He held the bottle to his pet and shook it with delight. With hopeful eyes he glanced up, referencing the plane between the two worlds. All his attempts to hint his next actions.

“What have you done!?” Kiko jolted from her rest, hollering at the Prince who looked all too pleased with his decision. “Hoseok please, no!”

He smiled his wide bright smile and swam away, not asking for Kiko to follow but she was persistent. She swam alongside him all the way through the dark blue waters to the world above as she did many times before. She wanted to protect Hoseok and be there for him at all costs.

The moon still shone in the sky when they rose from the depts to Hoseok’s casual lounging rocks. The ocean was still, swiftly washing waves ashore and receding back into the sea. He made his way to the shallows, to the area where he once touched when he saved the drowning princess from the wreckage.

A sorrowful look he exchanged with his leafy creature; he was aware of leaving his realm behind on the pursuit of learning about the land and to find his lovely princess. That once he drank this clear liquid, he will turn into one of them, no longer allowed to swim down to his realm because his tail would be no more.

He felt the liquid run down his throat as he tilted his head back, the mix drink oozed its way down his body like a sharp knife cutting from the inside and he fell to the ground clutching his stomach. The excruciating pain sliced his insides overwhelming the human-to-be, a resounded tear of a sudden split of his fin filleting… was last heard before he fainted.

When the sun was reaching over the mountains of the east, Hoseok awoke; and he immediately felt the burning pain in all of his limbs and organs. He inhaled exaggeratedly, clutching his hand over his chest as he leaned up. Fresh air burning its way through his new human lungs, the dryness of his mouth making him feel even more worse. The waters washed him up further on the shore, sand now surrounding his body and his now new pair of legs.

His eyes grew wide looking down between himself and the sea. Looking at the bare of his legs, a set of limbs that do not work like how his tail once had. Naturally, he moved the limbs one by one, turning his ankles, bending his knees, and wiggling his toes. Tiny appendages that matched the ten fingers on his hands, just smaller.

Hoseok sat in complete nude, just basking in the glow of the sun and the breeze of the wind. Until a squeak drew his attention from the water, a flip and a splash. It was Kiko – who must have stayed all night with him.

He opened his mouth, yet nothing came out. Something he needs to get used to now and figure out how to sign language his way through gestures. Instead he waved and smiled excitedly, motioning his hands towards his legs which he waved in the air with joy.

“Are you crazy? Cover yourself up Hoseok!”

Kiko darted around the water, looking for something to give the poor prince for some decency. Pieces of seaweed or kelp won’t do – something bigger needs to cover his bottom half. Lucky for them, remains of the past shipwreck still lurked in the waters. A torn fabric, from a mast, nonetheless, trapped under a broken wooden plank drifted in the sunken water not too far from the shore.

Hoseok remained unphased. More intrigued and preoccupied with these unsteady legs, he almost didn’t notice the added appendage that laid between them. The one thing Kiko was most nervous about, the lack of modesty. That’s no way for Hoseok to go about on land – oh most certainly not!

“Hoseok!” Kiko arrived closer, drawing Hoseok’s attention. “There’s cloth down here, I can’t remove it myself. But you need it, quickly! Come!” She flittered her little fins around the area, “Right down here!”

He bent his knees up, pushed off the ground with enough force to lift his body stable on the flats of his feet. Instantly he started wobbling, teetering left and right as he stumbled towards the water. Not only trying to understand the concepts of walking, looking like a toddler who needed the support to stand up. The witch was right – he felt light on his feet, he swiftly moved with jagged balance. But unfortunate to him, there was a buildup of thorn-stabbing pain with each step.

Hoseok fell, not gracefully, into the water where his limbs straight away felt at ease and cooled off. The threatening pain not causing him anymore discomfort. He drifted towards Kiko, kicking his legs erratically to stay afloat. His eyebrows raised, beckoning a questioned look for Kiko to guide him.

Reaching down through the green weeds, he caught hold of a wet material, yanking it up from under the object it was crammed under. It was thin, but long enough to cover him whole.

Resting his bottom on the sands of the shore once more, he twisted the material around his tapered waistline, right above his prodding hip bones and securing it tight with a knot. A crafted loincloth decorated around him, long enough to reach the tops of his knees. Hoseok’s eyes formed happy-crescent shapes when looking back to his floating buddy, enjoying his small victory.

Kiko observed Hoseok, watched him closely. There was almost a young childlike aspect on is features, his fascination, his wide eyes of wonder taking in his new environment. A wide grin from ear to ear, eyes sparkling in the beautiful sunlight. Hoseok still looked just as handsome as he did when he was adorned his aqua tail. And Kiko prayed from that moment forward that this journey Hoseok choose to take himself – will hopefully play out in his favor.

Seagulls squawked overhead, the gentle air tickling his skin. The reassuring sounds of the waves drifting in and out causing the heart wrenching feeling of home resolve the hollow of his chest.

A sudden uproar of noise startled the prince, coming from the edging of the cliff. A familiar noise he has heard once before but couldn’t quite understand what it was – until he saw it. A black four-legged figure barking along the sands, rushing in every which way with a snout that sniffed up into the air.

Hoseok’s face grew pale when he locked eyes with the creature. He had to get out of there, he didn’t know what this creature was capable of and it sure as well wasn’t human.

The large animal bolted towards Hoseok, yapping it’s head off with excitement. Fearful, Hoseok jumped up on a nearby bolder – one high enough to prevent the beast to touch him as it came close. It didn’t look threatening upon closer inspection; black fur coated this four-legged mut, and it had a tail as well! Is this what a dog was? He’s seen artworks that had these human pets in them, but none looked like this dog that woofed at him.

Hoseok shooed the dog with a wave of his hand, making a disgruntled face. Over the commotion between man and dog, Hoseok didn’t notice a curious wondering human making its way hesitantly. “Toby! Toby where’d you go! You need to help me find these shells – oh my!” A female in a simple tight-fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that covered down to her ankles, crept forward; a netted satchel filled with seashells slinked over her shoulder that she held closer to her body.

Her eyes met with Hoseok’s, frozen. It was her, Princess Y/n. Even though she wasn’t dressed in her elegant gown, decorated in her pretty jewelry, she still looked just as beautiful. Hoseok remained star-struck, as if he was seeing the princess for the very first time. Mouth agape, eyes fixed inquiringly on the stunning girl who stood meters away from him. The continuous barks of the Toby-beast unwavering until the princess scolded it.

“Toby! Down boy! Leave that man alone!” She called her pet back, rushing over to stop him from intruding the man on the rocks space. “I’m so sorry! Toby can be a bit overwhelming. But I assure you he’s really kind!” She managed to hold back her pet, trying to calm him down and get him to sit for her.

Hoseok looked down, preserving his surprised state. He smiled at the princess’s warm features, her soft delicate skin and whisking hair that was pinned out with a bow in the back.

The princess looked up at Hoseok, having a moment of déjà vu – something about this was all too familiar to her. “You seem… are you? Have – have we met before?” The words stumbled out of her mouth, in amazement as her eyes casted up to the glowing stranger. He was gorgeously handsome, his hair long and wavy, his smile so sincere and shining in the sun. Those almond colored eyes that captured the deepest of blues within them dazed back at her.

Hoseok eagerly shook his head – yes yes, they have met before!

“We have met! I knew it!” she exclaimed. “What is your name?”

Hoseok mouthed the formation of his name, but nothing came out. Frustrating the poor man even more, his lips pulled down into a frown. It’s as if his larynx was completely removed from his throat, the voice box completely vanished from within.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The curious princess spoke with worry. “Can you not speak?”

Exasperated, Hoseok held his fists up in a struggling fight with himself, scrunching his face along with it. This was his one and only time he can talk to her, yet he couldn’t form the words he wanted to say. Panic-stricken, he motions his arms and hands in spur of erratic movements. Trying to signal his distress.

“Oh, something is wrong? You’re hurt? You need help?”

Hoseok reached forward too far, losing his stability on top of the rock and falling forward. He was clumsy, landing in the sand right in front of the princess and blushing from embarrassment. Toby jumped over towards the fallen man, now licking up the side of his face and showering him with a handful of kisses.

“Oh gee – Toby! Off of him!” she hollered, now lunching herself to save Hoseok from her furry dog. “I’m so sorry!” Hoseok’s face was lifted up with a smile again, giggling at the cuteness of this Toby animal.

The princess relaxed, seeing that there was no threat at hand when the stranger started playing back with Toby. She saw how he wasn’t properly dressed, lost his clothes and his voice. Her soft heart churned with sympathy, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. You must have gone through something terrible recently. Let me help you up.”

The princess escorted Hoseok back to her palace, offering her assistance as he limped oddly while he walked. Once exposed, no thanks to Toby’s cheerful barking, servants brought the nearly naked man a set of expensive clothes.

“Princess Y/n! Who – what do we have here?” A maid rushed over holding out a robe already set open for the guest. “I thought you were looking for shells,” the maid turned to eye Hoseok. Capturing in his natural beauty essence. “not – not a man.”

The princess laughed, hiding a tinted pink blush from her embarrassment. “Ms Gretta, I assure you I didn’t mean to stumble upon this man. Toby ended up finding him! But he needs help! I think he may be sick.”

“Oh, sweet child. Haven’t we told you not to go running off alone? It’s dangerous for a woman of your status to be out there unsupervised!” The maid slunk the robe around Hoseok’s shoulders, covering him up.

The princess smiled softly, “But, I wasn’t alone. I had Toby!”

Her maid tsk’d, rolling her aging eyes. “Dear, Toby is not an excuse. Please next time, would you be careful?” She averted her attention to the strange man who stood still in the center of their foyer. “Come here young one, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The princess’s maid who addressed the man’s hygiene, escorted Hoseok down the hall. He looked over his shoulder in confusion has he was pushed along the tiled floors, looking at the princess who waved innocently. “I’ll see you soon!” she said.

Hoseok was led into a bejeweled decorative washroom. Gold encrusted handles and trimming, a similar color to the specks that scattered throughout his tail. A large bath displayed in the center, filling up with steamy warm water and colorful bubbles. A pricy chandelier hung from the center right above the tub.

“Now now, I’ll leave you to your privacy, sir. And I’ll come back to check on you. I’ll leave your clothes and towels on the counter right here. Please feel free to use whatever toiletries you need.” The maid bowed before stepping out of the room.

Hoseok walked over to the tub, feet now aching terribly. The bubbles reminded him of the foam that he’s seen a hundred of times on the plane of the water. Dissolved organic matter from algal blooms. It surprised him, however, that these bubbles came with a fresh scent.

Stepping into the tub his feet promptly soothed over from the dull pain. His knees bucked from under him, forcing a splash of water to rise above the edge of the tub and splattering across the tile below. The element of water was natural to him, it was alleviating him. Bubbles fluttered in the air, a cascade of them landing down on top of his head. He loved it; humans had all of the elements. Water, earth, air and fire.

“Darling please, no more nonsense of this. We need to focus on your studies.”

Princess Y/n and her mother, the Queen, were enjoying teatime in the dining hall with high painted ceilings and checkered flooring. With additions of a ruby red rug, large window plates, and a fireplace structured on the western wall.

Each dressed in their civil casual wear, a baby blue dress for the princess and an elegant topaz green for the queen. They sipped together while staring off at the scenic views outside. “I understand mother. I just turned a new age, please let me enjoy my time just a bit longer,” the princess begged.

“Darling, you know your positioning. We must find you a partner to be wed. There’s many suitors from several kingdoms who are in your age group.”

The princess remained silent, savoring the last bit of tea from her cup. What the queen didn’t know was that the young princess has been waiting for the day to find that man who had saved her. She wanted to express her gratitude and appreciation to the person on the beach. The princess knew there was no way she had dreamed of the man, but unfortunate for her, she sorrowfully cannot remember his face. Only fractions and figments of her memories weave together of that morning. The sun was glaring down into her eyes during the only time she could see him, but she remembered his voice. The audible feature that made her know that he was real.

The word, the greeting, “Hello.” Was the only excuse for her brain to process that hazy morning as real. She heard the person speaking to her. She wished, all this time to see him once more. Before she had to leave her kingdom for good, united with another man from a different country, she was determined to find that person who had saved her.

Every so often, when her schedule allowed it, she would journey down onto the beach. Strolling along the shore picking up pieces of washed up shells and rocks to add to her own collection of aquatic artifacts. And with each trip, she hoped to see that person once more.

“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” The disgruntled tone in the queen’s voice drew the princess’s attention. She blinked, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly she was interrupted.

“Go on – no need to be shy!” prodded the maid, pushing Hoseok forward.

Hoseok approached through the double-wide doors into the dining hall, now dressed in his borrowed rich clothes. A comfortable tunic that fell loose around his arms, black pants that rolled up by the ankles, and a thick belt that sat snug against his waist. It was a simple outfit, casual and relaxed. The only thing that looked more tasteful to the naked eye, something that looked priceless, was the singular pearl earring that hung from his ear.

He stepped towards the princess and queen with an astonished look on his face. The room surrounding them was marvelous, designed beautifully and almost as beautiful as his back in his underwater realm. He was nervous but happy, twiddling his thumbs between another as he stopped at a safe distance. He curtseyed with regard, gaining both the women of the room’s curiosity.

The princess stood up excitedly, “You look amazing – lively! Gretta has done a great job helping you!”

Hoseok nodded bashfully, his smile still present. The princess swore that there was a sudden twinkle in his beautiful beaming eyes when he reconnected their gazes.

“This is the man you found out on the beach?” the queen addressed the two with a quirked brow. “My, he is quite the visual. Young man, what is your name?”

Both Hoseok and Y/n turned to face the queen properly, a warily grin accompanied the both of them. “Mother, I’m afraid he’s a mute.” Hoseok timidly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, sending the queen an apologetic look.

Perturbed, the queen pursed her lips and nodded slightly. “I see. That’s very luckless my dear.” The queen’s eyes scanned the innocent male in front of her, seeing no threat in any nature. “You are welcomed to spending time here, as Y/n requested. Please make yourself feel at home and do not hesitate to ask, er – to seek out for any help.” Her lips upturned genuinely.

Hoseok bowed as a sign of respect and thanks. Feeling giddy, his body vibrated with delight.

“Come here, please sit. You must be malnourished.” The queen gestured to a seat at the elongated table. “Food will be served shortly.”

It was a bright chipper day, cool calm and collective. Noisy birds chirped from outside his guest room, a sound he never had the privilege to waking up to. Their squawks and chirps sounding as one of a melodic tune. Little animals making conversations with another, flapping their wings to soar high above the buildings and structures outside Hoseok’s window.

Hesitantly, he pulled the curtain aside to allow the view before him expand. The colors of the palaces garden were gleaming with charm, fantastic brand-new species of plants of all sorts of colors captivated his sights.

He slowly leaned over the railing of the windowsill, sticking his head out further into the air. If he was back in his realm he could simply just swim out, but here he was grounded. Out past the front gates, far into the distance of the forestry, was more building structures assembled. More colorful delight sprung from them, decorations and flags waving in the wind. It indeed was a beautiful day above the water, and Hoseok’s urge to explore was thriving within him.

An echoed knock resonated from the door, causing Hoseok to whip his head in the direction and walked his bare feet over to open the custom designed wooden door. Just before he turned the handle he glanced over at the shallow tub he grabbed from his quarter’s bathroom last night. It was still was filled with cooled water which he used the for his feet.

Another knock causing Hoseok to jump with the sound. He creaked the door open to pry his head curiously through the crack, and he was met with the maid who had assisted him throughout yesterday – Gretta.

“Good morning, sir!” She smiled warmly giving him a tiny nod. It took her a moment to remember she wasn’t going to hear a greeting back, due to Hoseok’s lack of voice. That didn’t derail her train of thoughts though, “I have fresh clothes for you!” She raises the materials in her arms higher up, catching Hoseok’s view.

He nodded, stepping back with the door, allowing Gretta to walk through. Hoseok stood there uncertain with his nightwear still snug on him, watching Gretta make her way to a side table to place the essentials down. She too noticed the tub laying besides the bed, filled with water.

“Miss Y/n was curious if you’d like to join her for the street festival in town today? There are many activities to partake in! She’s grown quite curious about you as well.” Gretta rambled, laying out the selected choice of menswear. It was similar to the previous day outfit, large relaxing soft blue tunic decorated with small detailed floral patterns and another pair of black trousers. There was also a bronzy gold belt laid out along with a set of – a set of…?

“These boots are made out of cowhide, sturdy for long walks on the roads. You don’t need to worry about getting them dirty!”

Oh, they’re called boots. Hoseok mentally noted the two neat glossy brown oddities. But the idea of long walks pulled his face into a grimace – he’ll need a break from walking frequently. He’ll need to find something to soak his feet in to cool of the agonizing stabbing pain that jolted through the pads of his feet the more he stepped.

“Shall I tell the princess you’ll be ready in twenty minutes? We’ll pull a carriage up in the meantime.” Gretta smiled over at the handsome young lad that stood motionless near the door. There was a natural aura about the boy, something ‘off’ for Gretta but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Hoseok bobbed his head excitedly, smiling at the fact he’ll get to see the princess once again. With joy he hurriedly grabbed at the fabrics, with no hesitation or decency to whip off his nightshirt in one swift movement. Gretta hastily turned her eyes away, heading towards the door just as quick. She laughed slightly, “I will clean up the room when you’re out in town.” From there the click of the door was heard with Gretta’s exit, and Hoseok is stumbling over himself trying to place these so-called ‘boots’ over his damn feet.

The carriage carried Hoseok, Y/n, and two guards into town. The settlement was garnished with florals, furnished with twisted wreaths and tangled vines. Banners hung building to building, colors of pinks, greens, blues, and purples scattered universally. Sculptures of flowers made out of papers and sheer fabrics hung down from above. Bodies of men, women and kids moving about another in dance, or between food stands, shops, and miscellaneous vendors.

It was beautiful for a land festival, but for a moment it reminded Hoseok of his brother’s recent party. There were similarities between the two of course, but there was something different at the same time. Nothing could compare to each other because in Hoseok’s view, land and water were forever going to be different.

The princess walked alongside Hoseok, humming herself a soft tune from an ongoing flute player. Peering down at the lovely princess, Hoseok couldn’t help but smile at the way her eyes wondered around as if she’s searching for something in particular. She smiled when greeted by passersby’s, declining offers of home-made treats and gifts.

“You know – I still don’t know your name. Do you go by a name?” Y/n spoke directly to Hoseok, but her eyes were looking through the crowd of people. Once she glanced up to meet his beautiful brown eyes, she had a mischievous smile. Hoseok nodded, furrowing his brows. He had to think of a way to tell her his name or find something that was close enough to relate back to him.

He turned his head left and right, looking for objects or scenery to point at. But there was nothing in his sights that satisfied him or suited him. Maybe a color would be easier? So, he looked around, pointing out the first blue thing he could find.

“Flower?” she questioned, smiling to herself. But with Hoseok responding with an unenthusiastic look she tilted her head. He searched again, grabbing at items and widgets all in different shades of blue. He held them towards Y/n, motioning the importance with his hand on his chest. Me! These are me! He was referencing.

Even the guards attempt to shout out answers to Hoseok’s amusing charade. Band? Berries? Belt? Cloth? Plate? Bracelet?

Hoseok grew more and more frustrated with the wrong answers he sighed in defeat. Sitting himself down on a bench that perched besides a bridge. He was stumped, blowing a breath of air up into his falling bangs.

“It’s okay!” The princess joined him on the bench, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “We don’t need to worry about it.”

A pang within his chest tightened over his heart when he looked back to the princess’s sincere eyes. That feeling pinched a sensitive nerve within him, he was stunned by the beautiful princess. Dare he admit that he may be smitten over her rosy cheeks, the way her smile drew a smile from him.

Her gaze flickered to the bead that hung from his lobe, the jewel that adorned his single earring. It glittered in the light, something she never has seen before. But Hoseok could see the small twinkle in the reflection of her orbs.

“It’s beautiful. That pearl you have.” Her wondering finger pointed at the ornament.

The moment she inched closer to Hoseok’s jewel he moved back in retaliation, quickly holding up his hand to catch hers. It’s natural for him to protect the one thing that holds his realm intact. The princess drew back her breath at the sudden movement. She didn’t know he was acting on defense, and they both looked shocked at another.

Hoseok held his hands up innocently, waving them as he wished to apologize. His distressed face was frantic and upset.

“Hey! Hey! Don’t worry! It’s okay!” she grabbed at Hoseok’s hands, holding them together. “I’m sorry.”

Hoseok wanted to say that it wasn’t her fault, it was his. And that he was the one who was sorry. He’s the one that was masquerading around with no voice, bending his mannerisms to the ill façade he needed to do.

A deep sigh exhaled through Hoseok, cocking his head to the side and tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. It now dawned on the poor prince that this indeed will be difficult. Between their hands Hoseok caught a glimpse of something resonating, a small glow mirroring off of another’s skin. Another frightened jump came from Hoseok, looking down at his hands.

He’s seen this before. It wasn’t as strong but that glow nonetheless was definitely similar to the one Jimin had with his human friend. It had to be. But this didn’t happen at all yesterday?

The princess looked befuddled at Hoseok’s behavior – such a strange man she thought.

Hoseok ran his hands through his wavy hair, resting his elbows on his knees and chin on his palm. He side-eyed the princess, smirking slightly as if he thought of something clever.

Y/n caught herself staring at the outline of this man’s profile. The silk of his hair shining in the sunlight, the scoop of his delicate nose, the pucker of his smooth lips. If she wasn’t such a headstrong lady she may have been blushing the first moment she came in contact with him.

Unexpectedly, Hoseok got off the bench. He waved on the princess and their two guards towards a vendor he was walking towards. As they approached, they see Hoseok surrounding himself with branches and twines of flowers, folding and weaving them together. ‘Flower Crowns’ labeled on a sign right above the shop, with a handful of premade crowns with ribbons ready to be bought.

But Hoseok took the initiative to interlace his own craft, bending the steams and twigs of these colorful tangerine colored flowers. Once he secured it safely in a round band, he turned, offering the circlet with a wide grin to Y/n.

She giggled, taking an exaggerated bow, and waited for Hoseok to bestow the new fashion atop her dome. It was like uniting his princess, unifying her to be a queen with a beautiful crown. The orange of the blossoms complimented the tint of pink on her cheeks.

“Thank you so much! Here let me give you one!”

Y/n looked around the small shop, eyeing the various cluster of garlands. Her eyes land one a particular one, perhaps it stood out because she was already primed with the color already. A blueish, greenish bundle of flowers knotted within a band; specks of little yellow daisies crisscrossed within them.

‘Interesting’, thought Hoseok. The princess picked out colors of which resembled his long-lost tail. Was it coincidence or – “Hydrangea flowers are so colorful!” She cooed. “Look at these ruffles of aquas and turquoise! And these yellow daisies!”

That’s it! Aqua! She can call him aqua, at least that’s a small portion of his real name. Hoseok pointed at the princess, then back at himself. He waved his hands for her to speak again with desperation in his eyes.

“What? The daisies?” She quirked a brow. No! shouted Hoseok’s inner conscience. He then pointed at the blue petals, running his finger around the anthers and blade of each petal. “The hydrangea? They’re blue?” She questioned. But when Hoseok shook his head severely as emphasis to the word blue, the princess caught on. “Oh! Blue? No – wait… not blue. Turquoise? Oh… not that one. Wait, aqua? You like Aqua!?”

As desperate for a man could be without his voice, Hoseok strained everything within himself from jumping up with glee when she understood the one thing she needed to know.

“Aqua? Hm, that’s a peculiar name.” She rested her finger on her lips as she pondered.

Hoseok pouted, knowing very well that his name is not short from his real title. The princess snickered to herself, thinking it’s quite cute that this ‘Aqua’ guy was pulling a sulky face.

“I like it.” She exclaimed as she raised the crown over Hoseok’s head and placed it gently on top. The flowers suited him; the coloration looked right. And if he wasn’t already a handsome fellow, he sure looked like one now.

“Here, I want to show you something, Aqua!”

The princess zig-zagged through the street full of people alongside her guards. Hoseok trailed close by, taking in more of the views and shops of the town. Y/n led the group to an opening within the city, a larger circled area with one big cast stone fountain with jets of water cascading out of a mermaid statue.

Folk music was playing, a band off to the side with a handful of instruments Hoseok has never seen before, violins, trumpets, and guitars – but Hoseok didn’t know the names of these. As if they were just like Namjoon and Yoongi. Composers.

Innocent singers harmonizing off to the side, a sweet melodic song. Their tunes were catchy, and the upbeat tempo pulsed within him. Just how Taehyung’s and Seokjin’s voices conducted.

When Hoseok watched the people danced around their merry ways, impulsively he wanted to dance too.

Hoseok looked down at his legs, almost criticizing the way he needed to work with both legs than a tail to do what his body used to do so fluidly beneath the waves of the sea. Maybe he can, maybe he could try.

In the midst of the princess trailing on about how much she adored the fountain and surrounding shells that decorated the sturdy stone, Hoseok wondered into the crowd. Drawn to the music and he started to dance around them all.

Hoseok stretched out his delicate arms, thin but strong as he hovered gracefully between person to person. Every movement, every agonizing step he took, became more and more in symmetry. He twirled with elegance, just as he did in the ocean. His expression of enjoyment, of love and compassion spoke through his eyes and it touched the hearts of surrounding villagers.

Nobody has seen someone move like Hoseok did, and even more spectators joined in the dance solemnly because of how inviting Hoseok looked.

The princess turned her head to the commotion that riled up, noticing that Aqua was no longer next to her but in the crowd. He was performing his best with little experience on two legs.

Hoseok locked eyes with Y/n, who gawked at the way he looked. Effortless motion, stylish and tasteful swaying.

It was then when the princess decided she wanted to get to know this person more; she wanted to know more about Aqua and figure out his background.

Once the song ended, the bodies halted in place. A round of applause cheered about, circling around Hoseok who stood there with the shyest of smiles. He could only stare back at his princess though, blocking out the views and townsmen around him.

“That was wonderful!” The princess encouraged with clapping hands. “You dance?”

With a nod, Hoseok cloaked the impending pain that was stabbing his feet. He shouldn’t have danced – it worsened the torture, but he couldn’t help the way his body naturally coursed to the music. He walked up to Y/n who stood near the fountain, just as he reached her a spasm pain shot up his foot and forced his knee to buckle.

It ached, cramps gnawing away at his muscles. His stumbling landed him on the fountains edge, sitting his body down on the stone.

“Oh, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Y/n examined over Hoseok’s scrunched up face. He glowered his sight towards his feet as he kicked off his boots. He cannot keep his feet contained any longer, he needs to relieve them before he can’t walk anymore.

“You’re feet?”

His feet were bare, but severely reddened. Blisters forming on the heels of his feet. He turned his head to look up at the mermaid fountain, eyeing the lengthy tail of stone, reminiscing to himself. Though he’s only been a day without a tail, he can only imagine having it as substitute for this pain.

Once he looks back to the Princess, his thoughts vanished. If it wasn’t for his deal, he wouldn’t have gotten these legs. And with these legs, knees, and feet, he was able to meet Princess Y/n – again.

Without thinking clearly about his next course of action, Hoseok spun himself on the edge to submerge his feet into the fountain.

The cool temperature of the water instantly relieved the throbbing ache, soaking his blistering skin.

Appalled citizens shuttered at the act; the guards were quick to lean towards Hoseok but the princess halted them with her hand. “Uhm, Aqua… you can’t do that.” She kept her voice hushed but stern. “If your feet hurt, we can help you back at the palace. But you can’t dip them in the fountain – please take them out.”

Hoseok complied, not wanting to anger anyone. He only reacted based of instinct, he knew the water was going to help him subside at least for a moment.

The princess ordered a guard to fetch the carriage, requesting for them to pick the group up right here. Soon they were traveling back up the lengthy road to the front gates of her home.

#bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #magicshopnet #armysource #crosscurrents #crosscurrents part 2 #hoseok x reader #mermaid au #bts fanfic #mermaid hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #hobi #bts #series #hoseok

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kalypsichor · 4 years

Text

embraceable you [ringo starr x reader]

summary: Ringo kisses you, soft and sweet, taking his time exploring your mouth. Your hand comes up to rake through his fluffy hair and it’s innocent, really, until you drag your nails slightly over the nape of his neck and he shudders—and before you can react, Ringo’s got you underneath him.

prompt: Hi! Can I request a ringo smut where reader and ringo are at Ringo’s childhood home visiting his family and they sleep in Ringo’s old room and they share his tiny bed lol and he’s all like “it’s crazy to have the girl I’ve always dreamed of as a boy in my childhood room, in my bed” lol and they try to keep it quiet as they have slow passionate sex 💕💕💕😭 warnings: 2.5k words of sweet, sweet love makin’, so much foreplay, S E X, ringo being hung af (don’t lie you know it’s true)

masterlist

so... this got out of hand. dear anon, your request made me feel things. to my lovely beta @spaceyantique , thanks for helping with the birds and the bees. here’s this fic’s song inspo (Embraceable You). Ringo’s stepdad was the one to introduce him to Vaughan’s music and a few decades later, she would cover the Beatles’ songs! ugggh that’s just too cute

Ringo’s room is a bit like him. Small, unassuming, and filled with the distinctive warmth of loving and being loved. Grammar and maths books line the bookshelves, remnants of his years of home tutoring. On the lowest shelf, some biscuit tins and sticks—you smile to yourself at these, which Ringo had told you were his very first drums.

It’s cozy. It must have been, you muse, since he spent so much of his childhood ill and at home. You feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of Ringo at seven years old, sitting in his room while all the other boys went to school and played about in the streets.

Tucked into the corner is an old turntable atop a shelf stuffed full of vinyls; your fingertips trail across them and choose one at random. Sarah Vaughan’s sweet murmur fills the room and you close your eyes, letting the music fill your chest. It gently pulls at you—well, who are you to refuse?—and soon you find yourself swaying to the tempo.

There’s a large area that’s been cleared in front of the turntable, no doubt for when Ringo’s mum, Elsie, passed onto him a love of dance. For a brief moment, it’s your space and you lose yourself to the crooning melodies. When you open your eyes again, Ringo is leaned against the doorframe, toothbrush in hand forgotten and something funny twinkling in his gaze. He doesn’t speak, just stands there, watching you.

“What?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing.” Then, after a pause, “You look like you belong here.”

You suddenly, desperately want to kiss him. But he’s sure to be minty, so you cross the room instead and, leaning in, wipe away the bit of toothpaste making its way down the corner of his mouth.

“Go finish brushing,” you say, and he turns with a smile and trots off to the bathroom.

You’re still examining his vinyls when Ringo returns and flicks off the light. He’s changed into a pair of flannel bottoms with nothing on top. Before you can admire his shirtlessness, though, he flops onto the bed, wiggles, and is completely still.

Smirking, you kneel beside Ringo’s prone form, propping your elbows on the edge of the mattress.

“Ringo...”

No reply.

“Ringooooo?”

An exaggerated snore. He buries his face even deeper into the pillow.

You sigh loudly, then move to get up. “I suppose I’ll put my shirt back on then...”

Ringo’s eyes shoot open and dart to your very much clothed chest. Quick as a whip, he grabs you by the wrists and pulls you onto the bed.

“False advertisement!” he yells over your shrieks of laughter. For a moment, it’s elbows and feet and muffled curses before suddenly—WHUMP! Ringo’s rolled right off the edge of the very small bed with you in tow. When you land smack onto him, he makes a half-strangled noise.

“Jesus, my dick—”

Naturally, that’s when Elsie opens the door.

“Everything alright in here?”

You freeze. Ringo freezes. You realize two things at once: one, that Ringo is still very shirtless, and two, that you’re straddling him on the ground.

Oh, and a third thing—

“It’s not what it looks like,” you and Ringo blurt out.

Elsie purses her lips, holding in what looks like a giggle. “You’ll be needing a bigger bed, is what it looks like.” Then, ignoring the mortified look on your face, “Goodnight!”

She leaves. You collapse onto Ringo and thump your forehead against his chest (which is very firm, but now is not the time).

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” (These are each accentuated with an additional head thump against said firm chest.)

“Well, don’t take it out on me.”

“Of all the things for your mum to walk in on!”

“She’s seen worse—”

“Do you hear yourself, Ritchie?” You groan and slump forward, pressed completely to Ringo’s front. “The minute she has to think of worse things... then it’s all over!”

Ringo clears his throat underneath you.

“... is this a bad time to tell you I’m getting kind of turned on?”

This makes you sit back up in a flash. He does look a little flushed and he’s got some of that messy sex hair already.

“Huh. Thought that was a drumstick digging into my leg.”

The beginnings of a retort (probably that was funny the first time) don’t make it past Ringo’s lips because you take that exact moment to lean back on your heels—and right onto his hard-on.

Ringo’s hands fly to your waist with a whispered “fuck.”

“Not on your floor, I won’t.” You wriggle out of his grasp and back onto the bed, and before you can even say come hither Ringo’s scrambled on after you. The bed is narrow and his bounce almost sends you off the other edge again. Ringo grabs you just in time. After a moment, you two burst into giggles, facing each other on your sides and holding on for dear life.

“Fun sleepover,” you whisper when the laughing dies down. There’s still a grin on your face.

“Dunno what kind of sleepovers you were having as a kid,” he replies, moving in to capture your mouth with his, “but mine were never like this.”

Ringo kisses you, soft and sweet, taking his time exploring your mouth. Your hand comes up to rake through his fluffy hair and it’s innocent, really, until you drag your nails slightly over the nape of his neck and he shudders—and before you can react, Ringo’s got you underneath him.

“I see how it is,” he mutters, and when Ringo kisses you this time it’s with a fervent heat. Gasping, you arch into the hand that’s slipped under your shirt.

“Normally I’d love the pretty sounds you make-” he nips at your collarbone and draws another one from your lips—“but you’re gonna have to keep quiet this time. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, I- oh- I don’t want Elsie barging in again.”

Ringo draws away for a moment, frowning. “Can you not mention my mum when we’re having sex?”

You giggle and pull him back to your lips. “Let’s get to the sex bit first, then.”

A calloused hand trails down your chest, rings nipping shivers of chill across your skin that are quickly soothed by gentle fingers. By the time Ringo reaches your underwear, you’re already slick with arousal. He finds the damp spot and runs his middle finger over it, feather-light. The friction of the fabric against your folds toes the lines between too rough and not enough and, really, he’s just being

“-such a tease,” you gasp, squirming under his touch.

He huffs and the action tickles your ear. “How am I supposed to give you what you want if you don’t tell me, baby?”

“Ritchie...” you whine. God, how he loves the way his name sounds from your lips. It’s enough to bring Ringo to his knees—but for now, he acquiesces to your plea and slips two thick fingers into your cunt.

On their own, your hips raise to meet his thrust and the angle sinks his digits in just a little deeper, setting alight a dull buzz in your core. Then he curls them upwards and finds the familiar sweet spot and the buzz becomes arcs of electricity that pulse slow, steady waves of heat through your body. The feeling laps from your navel to your fingers, hardening your nipples to peaks before retreating to your core and then sweeping through again with each thrust.

“You ready, love?”

Nodding, you reach down and stroke the hard length that’s been jutting against your thigh. Ringo groans into your shoulder, hips jerking forward in your grip.

“Are you?” you tease.

“Didn’t know this was a competition.”

“It’s not.” You thumb over his tip and he hisses. “But whoever finishes first loses!”

“Very funny,” he deadpans and leans in to kiss you again, biting down gently on your lower lip. That shuts you up. Without pulling away, Ringo manages to shuck his trousers off—which is pretty impressive considering that he’s still knuckle-deep in your cunt with the other hand. He helps you wriggle out of your panties and you whine as he pulls out to do so. Finally, the two of you are naked. A year ago, you would have blushed at how Ringo gazes at your form under his. By now, you’re both as comfortable with each other like this as you’d be fully clothed and fighting over what to see at the movies. The thought makes you smile—and then groan, thumping your head against the pillow.

“Ugh, god damn it!”

Ringo furrows his eyebrows, concerned. “What- what? Did you come already?”

“No, you idiot.” You let go of his dick, much to his chagrin, and drag your hand down your face exasperatedly. “We forgot to bring condoms!”

Ringo looks at you for a moment and then turns, almost falling off the bed again as he reaches for something. There’s the sound of a zipper, some fumbling, and when Ringo scrambles back between your legs he’s triumphantly brandishing a familiar square of foil.

Despite the steady ache of arousal between your legs, you let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“... did you think you were gonna get laid at your parents' house?”

“Is that not what’s about to happen?”

You roll your eyes and snatch it from his fingers. “You’re a dirty, dirty boy, Mr. Starkey.”

“Jesus, don’t call me that.” His breath catches for a moment as you roll the condom onto his cock and then continues, “That’s my dad. You gonna bring my whole family into this?”

“And the father, the son, and the holy spirit, amen.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbles, but a sappy grin makes its way onto Ringo’s face nonetheless. Giggling, you wrap your fingers around his length and guide it forward. Just the feeling of his blunt tip pressing against your entrance is enough to make your walls clench in anticipation.

He’s about to enter you when he just… stops. Looks at you. Swoops in, unexpectedly, and this kiss is nothing more than a brush of the lips, a lingering touch, but when he pulls away you’re unspeakably dizzy.

“What… what was that for?”

“I just can’t believe you’re my girl. In my bed. I never thought I’d see it.”

“Oh, Ritchie—”

His name trails off into a gasp as he sinks into you, stretching you inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt. There’s no other way to describe it except that you feel full. The two of you stay like that for a while, just soaking in the closeness. Ringo brings a hand to your cheek and smooths away some flyaway hair.

Then he pulls out so, so slowly you almost cry, the drag of his cock inside you setting fire to your nerves. That familiar ache starts building in your core. When he’s almost all the way out, he sinks back in again and sets an almost painfully slow pace.

The otherwise quiet room fills with your whimpers as Ringo fucks you into the bed. You have half a mind to comment on his rhythmic skills, something he’s rolled his eyes at a thousand times before—but then he wraps one of your legs around his waist and his next thrust hits you there and the only thing that spills from your lips is his name.

“Fuck,” Ringo groans through his teeth. Your cunt is so tight and warm around him. He can feel himself spiraling towards release, every breathy moan of yours edging him closer. “You’re so- so beautiful.”

And you are, with your hair wreathed around your face, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek, lips pink and parted around the pretty noises you’re making. You can’t help thinking the same thing. Even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, Ringo’s eyes are a liquid blue that send different kinds of shivers down your spine. The pressure below your stomach coils tighter and tighter with every thrust of his cock against your sensitive spot.

“Look who’s talking,” you gasp out. “Ritchie, ‘m close-”

Your breasts are bouncing from the force of him moving in and out of you. Ringo palms one, rolls your hardened peak between his fingers, and drags his hand down to your clit. Two rough fingers circle around the sensitive nub and he snaps his hips forward, cock burying deeper than before, and then you’re coming. It’s long and drawn out and you feel it move through your body in waves. Ringo follows you over the edge soon after, hips stuttering at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

When Ringo pulls out you sigh at the empty feeling.

“You’re gonna have to carry me home tomorrow.”

“Think I can manage that.” Ringo smiles adoringly at you beneath him. He presses a kiss to your nose and swings his legs off the side of the bed. “Be back in a mo’,” he says, slipping off the condom. He stands and stretches and you let your eyes wander over his naked form. When you whistle appreciatively—the only thing small about this boy is his stature—Ringo winks at you before turning and trotting off to the bathroom.

You don’t even get the chance to half doze off when he runs back into the room, eyes wide and panicky as he shuts the door behind him.

“What the hell happened?” you ask as Ringo practically dives under the covers with you. He’s breathing hard and it takes him a second to respond.

“... Elsie was still up.” Before you know it you’re falling into a fit of giggles that shakes your entire body against his. Ringo looks at you, unimpressed. “‘S not funny, you know!”

“I’m s- I’m sorry, Ringo, really.” Your attempt at sobering up is ruined with a particularly hard snicker. “But I’m sure she’s seen worse.”

He snorts and wraps an arm around you, pulling you so that your head is nestled into the curve of his shoulder. You place a hand on his chest and, for a while, you just feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand. It’s not long before your breath matches Ringo’s, deep and slow. Your favorite rhythm. When he speaks, his voice is already mellowed with the onset of sleep, vowels slipping clumsily into slurred consonants, chest rumbling like a purring cat.

“’m glad you’re here.”

His heart beats under your hand. Ringo’s own little drum solo, you think with a smile. “Me too.”

“No, but like-” Ringo shifts on the pillow and you crane your neck to look at him. “I still can’t believe it. That you’re here with me. But at the same time, I don’t have to be here to feel at home when I’m with you. You’re… a different kind of home.”

Something inside you swells like a balloon and you feel as though you could float to the ceiling, maybe even out the window and up, up, up to the stars. You want to say so much—that’s cheesy, and you make me feel like flying, and I want to stay like this forever, can we just lay here until we die? But what comes out is

“I love you.”

And he knows exactly what you mean.

“Love you more,” he says. You’d argue about it, because I love you more, but you’re already floating, floating, floating into sleep in his embrace.

#ringo starr x reader #ringo starr fanfic #ringo starr x reader smut #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader smut #ringo starr #kalwrites #fluff #sexy times #HOLY SHIT IT'S SO LONG #kinda proud of it doe #ringo is my love my life my everything

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gvf-imagine · 4 years

Text

JOSH X READER

Part One

warnings: none!

word count: 2255

summary: reader goes to the water park with their roomate\best friend, while there they meet Greta Van Fleet who are playing a small live show in the beer tent. The reader sees Josh and is instantly attracted to him on many levels but what happens when Josh reveals something to her about his personal life. will they become friends or perhaps more than that?

A\N: Hi everybody! this is a brand new fic I wrote, its based on a dream I had a while ago I couldnt get it out of my head so I just had to write it! there will be a part two and possibly even more than that depending on what you all think of it. if you like it and want to be on the tag list just message me or comment ☺️ also like always all critisism is welcome and appreciated, let me know what you think in the comments! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writting it.

thanks to @callmekane for beta reading! ❣️

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“Are you ready to go?” your roommate questioned excitedly, a bright smile beaming on her round face. You looked at yourself in the mirror that hung perfectly on your pastel pink bedroom wall. You wore an egg shell white one piece bathing suit that hugged your body nicely and paired well with your smooth skin tone. You wore your hair down, it hung like a veil over your shoulders, framing your face and making your eyes stand out marvelously. You were very attractive although you often felt the opposite.

“I suppose this is as good as it's going to get” you say, slipping on a pair of jean shorts and black sandals, smiling at your friend.

“You look great!” she chimes, always your hype man.

“Better than me,” she added.You nudge her lightly with your elbow “you look beautiful….you'll definitely get a cute guy's attention” you reply with a coy smile and a wink. Your friend breaks up with laughter , it filled the air, shattering into little twinkling shards, it reminded you of the color orange. Abrasive. Noticeable. Pretty.

“Guys don't notice me” she said softly as if feathers fell from her mouth. The twinkling shards of her laughter faded from the air and from your mind. Ready for a fun day, the two of you got in her car and made your way to Mount Olympus, the water park. You loved water parks, they were always so fun, weather permitting. Today called for sunshine, perfect.

“I heard there’s going to be a live band playing at the beer tent” your friend says bringing a smile to your face.“We should check them out” you say with a nod , of course your friend agrees with you. The two of you loved live music and were always open to new bands and new sounds.“Some band called Greta Van Fleet” she adds, you think for a moment.

“Never heard of em” you respond watching other cars pass out your window, you couldn't help but wonder where everyone was in such a hurry to be. A few minutes later your friend pulls into the parking lot of Mount Olympus. She smiles excitedly before opening her door and stepping out, you followed suit. The sun blanketed your skin making you take a deep breath, you suddenly felt tired but that feeling was quickly lost as your friend sprayed you with cold sunscreen.

“Don't wanna get all burnt up!” She speaks happily. You never understood how she could always be so warm and upbeat. You hardly needed the sun in the sky, having her around gave you the same warm feeling. When she was done rubbing in the sunscreen she handed you the bottle before holding her arms out. You sprayed her arms, legs, and torso then sprayed some in her hands so she could put it on her face and neck. “Alright let's go” you said, stuffing the sunscreen into your bag. The two of you made your way to the park entrance. Dozens of other people clad in bathing suits and towels made their way through the park gates. Endless, untraceable conversations filled your ears as everyone chattered happily, it was very busy and looked to you like colorful static. You smile as you watch the vibrant hectic specs leave the mouths of strangers and float in the ears of others. Your imagination has always been a huge part of your life, you could hear everything you see and see everything you hear. Every sound has a color and physical property in your mind, your best friends laugh for example, the orange twinkling shards of glass.

“The beer tent is this way” she says, ripping you back to reality. Once the two of you reached the tent, there was a small crowd of people gathering as the band was about to start. You and your friend wound up in front of everyone else somehow. You smiled up at the stage, patiently waiting for what was, unbeknownst to you, going to be the start of the rest of your life. A great, great adventure.Then, as if on cue, four men stepped on the stage, one settled behind the drum set and the others grabbed their guitar and bass. The last man to walk on headed for the microphone with an exuberant smile. The guys said nothing just looked at each other and a heavy groove started to play from the speakers as they handled their instruments. The drummer bobbing his head to his own beat, his dark hair blowing through the air. Just then the singer belted out the most perfect and exhilarating note possible, this stunned you and everyone else in the crowd. He sounded so classic. His words floated out of his mouth, a turquoise stream of spiraling liquid filled the air around him, his voice. Purple glitter blasted out of the speakers, their music. It was so surreal to hear and see their sound. The singer looked so focused and almost as if he wasn't here mentally, as if he was singing to himself in his head and he was just imagining everyone around him. Your best friend was completely focused on the guitarist, you could see the attraction in her eyes, you couldn't blame her, he was a beautiful man. You however, couldn't seem to take your eyes off of the singer. He had chromatic hazelnut hair, chocolate browneyes, olive skin and a voice that made clouds seem harsh. You felt your body swaying to the music.

“Oh mama what you gonna do with all that love in your heart?” he belted his body twisting and jolting with the music. You laughed at his charismatic presentation. He was having fun, they all were, and so were you. You let the music take control as you danced , letting your body flow with the beat of the drums. Just then you noticed the singer looking at you, he smiled. You smiled back as you jumped up and down to the music. Your eyes met and locked onto each other. things went silent and blurry but only for a short moment, he looked away hesitantly and continued to sing. “Oh my god he totally just checked you out!!” your friend yelled over the loud volume of the rock and roll music. It didn't feel like he was checking you out, it felt like he was checking your soul out. Any thoughts he was having about you at that moment had nothing to do with your physical appearance or his, not yet decided, physical attraction to you. They finished the song and you noticed the small crowd had grown into a surprisingly large crowd. There were people all around you, jumping, shouting, throwing their arms in the air.

“JOSH I LOVE YOU!!!” you heard one woman yell, her voice was red with passion and slammed into your ear drums like a train. Ouch.

Josh.

Nice name, you thought to yourself, strong and somehow soothing. They played a few more tunes , the one they were playing at the moment was a song , Josh announced, that was titled, flower power. It was a beautiful song and you couldn't help but wonder who he was thinking of when he wrote it. Maybe no one at all. The free spirit of the song made you feel like you were flying with all the flowers in the world surrounding you, lifting you gracefully through the clouds and sky. You loved their music, and you were now decidedly a new fan of theirs, Greta Van Fleet.

The singer , Josh, made eye contact with you once again as he sang “ As the days pass by my mind, are the wrong , the right, you are my sunshine. As the night begins to die, we are the morning birds that sing against the sky” and with that lovely little note , the song ended. You and your friend applauded loudly, as did everyone else. To Josh’s surprise the crowd reacted with loud continuous support. He looked to his band mates, his brothers, and smiled, he was proud of all of them. He looks back to the crowd, he had to find you.

He looked, his eyes searched the crowd but there was no sign of you anywhere. All the clapping and cheering was muted as he focused on finding you, images of your face flashed across his eyes. ‘She was very pretty, uncommonly pretty, in more than one way’ he thought to himself then, there you were, walking away from the crowd with another girl, who was also pretty, but was eyeing Jake the whole show.“Go get her” Jake said as if he could hear josh’s thoughts, josh smiles and steps off the stage.

“They were great right?” your friend said beaming as the two of you sat down at a picnic table with some drinks.

“Yeah they were amazing, I hope they find a way out of this town with all that talent” you respond taking a small sip of your lemonade. Your friend's eyes suddenly grew wide.

“Speaking of” she whispered, nudging you gently. You looked at her and she nodded her head in the other direction, you turned your gaze and saw Josh making his way over to you. You felt your face flush, you adjusted your posture and smiled.

“Uh hello” he said sweetly

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying not to seem as nervous as you really were.

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asks with a half smile, his hand reached behind him and he rubbed his neck. Perhaps he was nervous too.

“Oh absolutely! You guys were really great, very beautiful sound, I felt like I was flying with flowers” you said. Your face burned red as you realized how stupid that last part must have sounded.

He chuckled lightly

“you looked like you were flying” he said softly, now his face was red.Your friends' eyes darted between you and Josh.

“I'm gonna go get us a locker!” she said standing up abruptly. She smiled at Josh and winked at you as she walked away.

You laugh “sorry about her… she thinks life is one big rom-com” you voice , playing with the straw that stuck out of your drink. Josh laughed and sat down.

“She seems nice,” he replied. There was a moment of comfortable silence.

“Look I came over here because….I couldn't help but notice the chemistry we shared, I know you felt it too” he said. You could tell it took a lot of courage for him to say that, and that he wasn't usually a very forward person, not with women at least.

“Yeah” you smiled

“I felt it” you added. Josh grinned with a sigh of relief. He glanced around and fidgeted with his fingers before speaking again.

“What's your name?” he asks looking into your eyes now.

“(y\n)” you answer sheepishly.

“That's a gorgeous name, im-” he began.

“Youre Josh, I know” you interrupt with a small laugh.

“I just heard about fifty different girls screaming it a second ago” you continue smiling, your eyes looking back over to the stage, which still had a pink aura pulsing around it.Josh smiled and looked down

“yeah… I'm still not used to that” he admitted. Another moment of silence.

“You know i'm not really sure why I came over here...I seen you and just had to meet you...but…” his voice trails

“Let me guess...you have a girlfriend” you finish his sentence for him, praying you were wrong. He lets out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah….” he spoke, so quietly you almost couldn't hear him. You felt your heart sink.

“Of course you do” you speak, sadness lingers on your tongue. Josh picks up on your tone and feels as though he's done something wrong, but he didn't. He didn't like the solemn expression on your face.

“well , are you hungry? Do you want to go get some food or something? As friends?” he asks as if he already knew what your response was going to be.

“I don't know if that's such a good idea….is your girlfriend here?” you ask, eyes looking around the park again.

“No” he answers quickly, maybe a little too quickly. You think for a second but don't let temptation over take your better judgement.

“I don't know josh…” you chime.

“Well here at least give me your number” he says pulling his phone from his pocket. You think again, you knew you felt something with him and that usually didn't happen with people. You grabbed his phone and entered your number, he smiles as you type it in.

“There” you remark with a smirk as you hand it back to him.

“Great… I should go but I'll definitely text you” he assures as he rises from the table.

“Actually, the guys and I are playing at a college party next weekend if you want to come, bring your friend too. I saw Jake looking at her” he says. You laugh excited for her, she'll be all too happy to hear that.

“Count us in” you answer.

“I'll text you the time and address tonight” he adds before smiling at you again.

“It was really nice to meet you (y\n)” he grins.

“You too Josh, thanks for the music” you reply.

He smiles at you slipping his phone back in his pocket before making his way back over to the band, you watched him until he disappeared in the crowd of people.

(to be continued...)

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why-its-kai · 3 years

Note

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ go crazy kai lets goo

holllyyy shit u spoil me. lets goooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I was dropped from/ Moonbeams/ And sailed on shooting stars”

Sail To The Moon. (Brush The Cobwebs Out Of The Sky.) - Radiohead

“With the holograms beside me/ I'll dance alone tonight/ In a mirrored world, are you beside me/ All my life?”

Saturnz Barz - Gorillaz feat. Popcaan

“Some say your mind's been transplanted/ But you know deep inside you're enchanted”

Burnice - They Might Be Giants

“He's a king dust demon with an icepick smile/ His music fills your feathers as you feel your passions fly”

Mustache Man (Wasted) - CAKE

“If evil were a lesser breed than justice after all these years/ The righteous would have freed the world of sin”

The House Wins - OK Go

“You are not my typewriter/ But you could be my demon/ Moving forward through the flaming doors”

War On War - Wilco

“There's half a million things that I'm supposed to be/ A shelter in the nighttime/ A punk running free”

Half A Million - The Shins

#ahhhh thank you 💜💜💜

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inagetawaycarxo · 4 years

Text

“You look so sexy in that costume.” w/ Jey Uso

— For the Halloween 🎃 prompt can I get a Jey Uso x Female reader smut Sentence starter: “You look so sexy in that costume” And one with..-harleymoxley

Pairings: Jey Uso x Fem!Reader

Featuring: party peeps.

Summary: Jey gets turned on by your costume, and pulls you into a room to get a little freaky.

WARNINGS: smut, sex, public sex (I suppose but it’s in a bedroom), my editing, prob bad smut writing, oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, sins not tragedies.

Word Count: 1052

NOTE: I know its way past Halloween, but I don’t want to have to put these on hold for next Halloween.

The feeling of a warm hand wrapped around your wrist then pulled you away from the crowd of people, and into a bedroom. Closing the door.

You spun around to face the person who dragged you into the bedroom. You arched one eyebrow, as you saw Jey standing in front of you. Looking at you with lustful eyes.

Before you can even utter a single word out, Jey pounced on you. Pushing your back against the door. His hands grabbing the side of your face. His lips pressed against yours, kissing you feverishly. Both of you let out a moan. Jey grinded his crotch against your lower region. Instantly making a wet pool form in your core.

Jey pulled away from the kiss after about a few minutes. Both of you breathing heavily, trying to regain breathing properly. Jey’s mouth went straight to your neck, you tilted your neck up. A moan slipped out of your mouth, as he sucked harshly, leaving a hickey on your neck, he continued to suck on your neck, leaving a litter of hickies along your neck.

“You’re so sexy in that costume.” Jey spoke, in between sucking on your neck. Only making you moan even more. Jey smirked against your neck, his hands trailing down towards your ass.

“But, it would look even better on the floor.” Jey spoke through heavily breathing. One of his hands sliding up your back, until it reached your zipper, pulling it down roughly, all the while leaving hickeys down your neck, then towards your collarbones.

Jey tugged your costume off of you. Letting it slip off your body and onto the floor. Your hands quickly made work off taking his shirt off and throwing it onto the ground. Your hands trailing down his chest, till you reached the waistline of his jeans. Your fingers hastily went to his fly, pulling it down.

You then discarded his pants. Jey stepped out of them. His hands gripping your waist tightly. Moving backwards, taking you with him. The both of you were making out heavily. Stripping the rest of each other’s clothes off. Jey lifted you up, spinning around, and tossing you on the bed.

Before you could even lean up on your elbows, Jey hovered above you. His body heat radiating off of you, making you quiver.

One of his hands cupped your breasts, while he lowered his mouth down to your nipple. His tongue swirling around your nipple, making a pool of wetness form in your core. Jey swirled his tongue around your nipple for a second, before putting his mouth around your nipple, sucking harshly. A moan escaped your mouth, as you writhed underneath him. Jey did that for a few more minutes before switching to the other untouched breast. Repeating the same action he did to the other breast. Jey’s mouth unlatched from your nipple.

Trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts. Then down your abdomen, sucking harshly on your navel. Your hands automatically grabbing his hair.

Jey’s kisses trailed all the way down towards your core. His mouth hovering over your wet core. His warm breath fanning your wet core, making you let out a few whimpers, and moans.

“Please.” You whined out. Shifting slightly. Jey pressed feather-light kisses on both of your inner thighs.

Jey’s tongue licked up your slits. Making you let out a gasp. Jey continued to kitten lick your folds. Inserting two fingers into your wet core. His mouth suddenly attaching itself to your clit. Sucking harshly, while quickening his pace with his two fingers. Sending you into total bliss. Your eyes fluttering closed. Your fingers gripping onto his hair for dear life. While your back arches. Throwing your head back. You wrapped your legs around Jey’s neck, making him hum. Your toes curled. The sensation of bliss taking over your body. Your moans, and Jey’s harsh sucking, where the only noises filling the room drowning out the music that was blasting in the house.

Jey continued to suck harshly on your clit. While fingering you faster. After a while, you started to feel a familiar sensation form in the pit of your stomach.

Your moans getting louder. Just before you could inform Jey you were coming, he pulled away. Making the sensation in the pit of your stomach disappear.

You let out a whine. Your eyes snapped open. Just as you leaned on your elbows, Jey pushes you back down. Hovering above you. Lining his cock up with your entrance. One hand taking ahold of his shaft, as he slowly entered you. His other hand cupped the side of your face. His mouth capturing yours in a passionate kiss.

Jey’s mouth silenced your moans, as he pulled out, then thrust back in. Your eyes fluttered closed. So did Jey’s.

Jey slipped his tongue into your mouth. His tongue fighting for dominance against your tongue. The both of you moaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Jey’s thrusts got deeper.

Every thrust was deep. His pace quickening with every thrust.

Jey pulled his mouth away from yours. Burring his face into the crook of your neck. Breathing heavily.

The familiar sensation formed in the pit of your stomach again. Your walls clenching against Jey’s shaft.

Jey noticed this, his thrusts getting faster.

“Fuck, babe, if you keep doing that I’m going to come.” Jey groaned out. Leaving kisses on the crook of your neck.

“Jey.” You moaned. Feeling your orgasm wash over you. Black spots surrounding your vision. Your walls clenching around him. Your nails digging into his scalp. Your toes curling. Back arching as far as it can. Your head falling back onto the pillow.

“Fuck.” Jey growled out. As you clenched around him, prompting his own climax to arise.

“Jey.” You moaned out, as your orgasm released. Your juices coated his cock.

He threw his head back, letting out a deep growl. His thrust getting sloppier. Jey gave one last thrust before spilling his seed inside of you.

Jey fell on top of you. Your breasts pressed hard against his chest. Both of you breathing heavily. Jey pressed a soft kiss against your sweaty shoulder, before rolling off of you. Laying beside you. His hand reached for yours. Intertwining his fingers with yours. As both of you stared at the ceiling…

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years

Text

Passing Through

Part Five: Thaw

A/N: The storm is still swirling over the mountains and burying you in snow, but things start to warm up despite the chill in the air.

Word Count: 5,034

The sound of your phone buzzing and the sudden flash of bluish light against the empty white walls of your bedroom jolted you awake, your eyes flying open as you took a quick breath in through your nose. Hmm? I didn’t set an alarm, what’s- Your hand reached blindly for your phone, fingers feeling around in the dark until they caught the charger cable between them. Pulling it up off of the floor by the cord and then unplugging it, you checked to see what had woken you up. Before you could enter your password to swipe open the screen, you heard another sound that your still sleeping brain didn’t readily recognize as the opening of cabinets and clinking of glassware. Is that? But your question was answered by the hissing and sputtering of your ancient coffee pot and the nutty aroma as the brew started to drip. Oh. You sat up in bed, pulling your blanket up around your waist as you did. Ryan.

You blinked a few more times and took another breath. You’d been dreaming, or at least you thought you had been, but as soon as you opened your eyes you lost every detail. There was music. I know that, and...light? It felt… You heard Ryan shuffling around in your cupboards as you tried to piece your fleeting dreams back together, but instead the events from the previous day and night came back to you with vivid clarity. Despite the drafty sliding door that lead out onto the patio and the faulty heat that was less predictable than the weather, the air temperature was warm. He must have kept the fire going all night. You dragged a hand through your hair, collecting the loose strands around your face and combing them back. I should get up...I need to… Though you hadn’t been nervous or hesitant around him at any point since your chance encounter in the coffee shop, you suddenly felt a flutter in your stomach at the thought of leaving your bedroom and seeing him, fresh from slumber and standing in your kitchen. You tried to chase the thought from your mind before it fully formed, but whereas your dreams didn’t want to be caught, it seemed this thought wouldn’t be deterred; what if I like it too much, him being here?

Your phone buzzed again in your palm, pulling your attention back to the present. Stop. You shook your head, clearing it of what ifs as best as you could, and focused on the text messages that had just come through. One was from Greg, your boss, and the other from Missy, both informing you that due to the weather, Jake’s was going to remain closed for the day, and that depending on how long the storm stuck around, they could potentially be closed the following day as well. Nothing like a snow storm to put a damper on your rent money. But as much as you depended on every shift you worked, you found yourself glad to have another day with Ryan. If he stays. You tried not to get too far ahead of yourself, tried not to assume that he’d want to spend another entire day with you, sitting on your floor in front of your fireplace and sharing the quickly diminishing contents of your fridge and pantry. You glanced out between the tilted slats in the blinds to see that big cotton ball flakes were still silently and steadily coming down. Though I guess he’s stuck here for now either way. From what you could see, it looked like around two feet had fallen, everything coated in a thick casing of snow.

You quickly responded to Greg and Missy, telling them to stay safe and to keep you posted about tomorrow. Dropping your phone onto the bed next to you with a soft thud, you swung your legs to the side to stand when another sound hit your ear and froze you in your tracks. It was the sound of his voice, and though you couldn’t hear every word and weren’t familiar with the song, you were captivated. You took a few steps closer to your door, hoping that you’d be able to hear him more clearly. You had, but you realized that he was only singing a few words at a time, then intermittently humming, and you wondered if it was a new song that he was working on, or an old song that he was trying to recall. You wondered if it had meaning, or if it simply made him happy, or if it was just what came to mind for no reason other than to fill the silence.

“Halfway up ...rolling…” Straining your ears and holding your breath, you caught a few clear lyrics, incoherent hums filling in the gaps between them. You smiled to yourself as he reworked the line, adding to it. “Got halfway up that rolling hill…” There you go. Something in the way that he sang, a sort of surprised satisfaction in his tone, made you believe that it was a new project, something he was still working on. You always admired songwriters. It was one thing to play music written by or for someone else; not that there weren’t innumerable ways to put your own distinct mark on a song, because there were. Every musician brought something new to every piece of music that they played, you knew that. But it was another thing entirely to conjure every bit of the song into being, to pull the melody from the air and the lyrics from your heart. He continued to try the line in different pitches, changing the cadence and timing. Wonder if I’ll get to hear it someday. You tried not to want it as much as you did, but just those few lyrics, just the hint of a rhythm, made you crave more of the song. Don’t, you warned yourself for what felt like the hundredth time since bringing him into your home.

Sighing, you pulled the oversized sweater that you wore more tightly around yourself, shrugging deeper into it as you pulled yourself away from his song, moving over to the mirror that hung on your closet door. Combing your fingers loosely through your hair, you twisted it into a rope, circling it up on itself and tying it off in a knot. A few strands inevitably fell free, and you tucked them behind your ears. Wiping the sleep out of your eyes, you gave yourself a once over; thick gray socks pulled up over black leggings, burnt orange cable knit sweater that was older than you were layered on top of a plain white long sleeved tee. You weren’t dressed to impress, but you were warm and as put together as you were going to be, and you couldn’t hide out in your room any longer. Leaving your phone behind, you took a breath and headed out into the hallway.

The second the door opened everything intensified; the warmth from the still crackling fire spreading over your cheeks, the familiar, cozy smell of your favorite roast drawing your lips into a sleepy grin. But it was his voice that made the biggest impact. Ryan didn’t just sing, you’d learned. He poured himself into every lyric and all the notes between with such passion that it was impossible not to feel it when he made music. If you want to know him, you just have to listen. You could listen all day, feet planted on the beige carpet, arms wrapped around yourself and his magic filling the air.

Instead, you took a few more steps and came through the hall to turn towards the kitchen. Sucking in a breath, you felt your eyes widen as you caught sight of him. He was wearing the same sweatpants and tee that you’d seen him in the night before, but now they bore wrinkles from being slept in, creases near the hem and sleeves that told of tosses and turns. His hair had dried overnight, but he hadn’t bothered to comb it or even drag his fingers through it. Yesterday it had been corralled beneath his cap but now, given a few hours of freedom, it curled and waved near his ears, and a stray strand dangled down to curve around his eye. Even though the snow was still falling, fluffy, white clouds clogging the sky, muted sunlight came through your windows to catch the honeyed highlights in his otherwise dark locks. You worked to control the rapid beat that your heart had taken without your notice as he opened a cabinet to search for sugar.

He’d been humming under his breath since you’d turned the corner, but a few more lyrics suddenly came to him as his socked feet arched and he rose to his toes to view the contents of the top shelf. “Roots growin’...put down roots, growin’ down through the ground…” Again, there was an experimental excitement in his voice as he played with the new piece. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face if you wanted to. “It’s the next one,” you said, finally revealing your presence. “Middle shelf, silver canister.” He turned, flattening his feet to the linoleum, the daylight shining in his eyes like fireflies in summer. Oh, he’s… He smiled before closing the cabinet to follow your instruction, opening the next one and retrieving the sugar.

“Thanks.” You nodded and he placed the sugar next to the coffee pot as it finished it’s brew, the tired appliance exhaling a final hiss before giving one last sputter, the light behind the orange cover coming on to confirm that the process was complete. “Mornin’,” he said then, turning to face you and leaning back against the counter. “I hope you don’t mind, I wanted to…” he gestured at the coffee that he’d made and shrugged.

Mind? You shook your head. He made me coffee and he thought I’d mind? He’s something else. With a smirk, you opened another cabinet and took down two mismatched mugs- one boasting a beach scene, the handle taking the form of a leaping dolphin, chipped purple lettering reading Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, the other depicting an owl, its feathers painted in reds and browns, it’s wise eyes wide and round. “Good morning, Ryan,” you said, and the second the words had left your lips, you felt something change. Oh, no. Those words tasted too good, like the flesh of a forbidden fruit, making juicy promises of sweet tomorrows. You cleared your throat and tried not to let it show on your face as you turned back to him, handing him the empty mugs. “Sleep well? Were you warm enough out here?”

You watched his cheek lift slowly into his left eye as his grin spread upwards at your questions. “Yeah,” there was a hint of that excited surprise that you’d heard in his singing as he answered you. Turning to the tired coffee pot, he poured the steaming hot morning elixir, and you thought you caught the same kind of self- admonishment in the slight shake of his head that you’d given yourself. Huh. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, slept real well, nice’n warm.”

When was the last time he had a warm place to sleep? You couldn’t help but wonder. Days? Weeks? How long has he been on his own? You watched him set the carafe back on top of the hot plate, his shoulders rising and falling before he turned back around.

He locked his warm brown eyes with yours as he passed you the owl mug, saying your name- not Junebug, your real name. “Thank you,” he said with more sincerity than you’d ever heard those two words carry. Of course, Ryan, I couldn’t just... His eyes shifted for a second to the window across the space, at the storm that had swept in to derail his plans. “F’you hadn’t offered me a place to stay I don’t know where I’d…” He shook his head and you tried to shake the idea of him freezing under some overpass downtown from your mind. “Storm came outta nowhere’n I don’t know anyone out here ‘cept Cowboy’s brother’n…” He trailed off, eyes flicking downwards again before coming back up and bringing a small smile with them. “Just, thanks.”

You clasped your hands around your mug, palms absorbing the warmth from the porcelain. “Ryan, it’s…” You sighed and smiled, and you were relieved to see that he followed your lead. “You’re welcome.” You are. You tore your focus away from his gaze, attention landing on the sugar you’d helped him locate. You pointed your chin towards the canister and he followed with his eyes. “Need a spoon?” Pulling open the silverware drawer, you grabbed a utensil for him, holding it out between you.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” he reached forward to take it from you, his calloused fingertips brushing yours for the most fleeting of seconds, but igniting a spark the way a match does when it strikes. He licked his lips and blinked at you as he leaned back against the counter. Did...no, you assured yourself that he didn’t feel it too. He sweetened his coffee, giving it a stir. “Myrtle Beach, huh?” He changed the topic to the souvenir that held his caffeine. “‘Been there a few times.”

Of course you have. You’d been there every summer from the time you were born until you moved out on your own, the family vacation spot holding a place close to home in your heart. You imagined him there on the smooth white sand, feet and chest bare as the sun tanned his skin. You could see him sitting with his guitar outside the fudge shop you used to visit annually, contributing to the bluesy songs that the employees there would sing as they poured the thick, gooey chocolate and coated pralines in sugar and spice. It was easy, you realized, to imagine him in your favorite places. It doesn’t matter, don’t think about that. “Yeah?” you asked as you brought your mug to your lips to take a sip.

“Mhmm,” he tapped his spoon twice against the rim of the mug before tossing it into the sink where it clanged noisily against the stainless steel. Did he do the dishes? A glance at the full dishrack on the counter answered your question for you. “I stop there sometimes when I’m headin’ back to visit family.” So he’s from the East Coast, too. “Played with some friends at the pier and the boardwalk a few summers ago.” He brought the colorful mug to his lips and gave a gentle blow to cool the liquid inside, ripples forming on the dark surface before he took a sip that left the bristly hair over his upper lip damp. His tongue came out to quickly collect the droplets stuck in his beard and mustache. “Thinkin’ ‘bout headin’ back that way soon. Next summer if not this one.”

Without meaning to you saw yourself laughing and strolling the boards with him as the foamy sea swept along the shore, the bright orange sun dipping behind the horizon and the humming of insect wings filling the warm air. You imagined playing music with him, maybe with his friends- the ones he’d told you about last night- under the wooden gazebo where you’d stood to watch local musicians with Eli and your mom on your way back to the hotel after a long, sunny day on the sand. Too easy. But before you could change the subject, he was asking you how long it had been since you’d been there. How old is that mug? “Um…” you stalled, taking another drink and heading out of the kitchen, suddenly unable to share the small space with Ryan and your wishful thinking. He followed, bringing his coffee with him. Shrugging, you walked over to the living room, where he’d folded the blankets and sheets you’d given him, piling them neatly atop the still inflated mattress. “Maybe eight years or so?” Longer. You moved the mattress with your foot until it bumped up against the wall opposite the fireplace, then sunk down onto it. Big mistake. You were hit instantly with his scent as you sat where he slept; bar soap and tobacco and that indescribable smell that cold, crisp air leaves on your clothes and in your hair after you’ve been outside all day. Though you knew you shouldn’t, you took a slow breath in through your nose and imagined waking up wrapped in that scent morning after morning.

It was a losing battle with him right there, long legs bending so he could take a seat next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight to make the whole thing feel even more familiar than it should. “Think you’ll ever go back?” You watched his eyes travel to the flames in the fireplace, making sure that they didn’t need attention before settling back on your face, waiting for your answer.

Nodding, you stared straight ahead at the glow of the embers beneath the grate. “I hope so.” You thought about revisiting your home away from home with your brother often, wanted more than anything to revisit those memories and make new ones, the two of you laughing and enjoying the slow, simple happiness that you’d found in that place over the years. I’ve got bridges to mend before that can happen though. One step at a time.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Ryan smiled over the top of his coffee, the steam swirling in front of his eyes, making them even warmer than the fire that you sat before. “You will.” He said it so matter of factly that even though you couldn’t say when, you believed that you would. “Someday.” Someday. You heard the same hopeful quality that was in his tone the day before, when he talked about seeing his friends as soon as the snow let up. “That’s what’s great about havin’ favorite places.” You turned and his smile inched higher up into his cheeks. “You can always go back to ‘em. Whenever you’re ready.”

Am I ready? You blinked at him and felt your own lips twitch upwards, unable to avoid the contagious nature of his smile. “Yeah, whenever I’m ready.” But when will that be? Every time you thought about spreading your wings and jumping, you shriveled back inside of them and crawled away from the ledge. It wasn’t the fall that worried you, but the landing. You’d already crashed and burned once before. You weren’t sure you’d survive it again. Not alone, anyway.

He cleared his throat and set his mug down by his feet, lacing the fingers of his left hand with those of his right the moment they were free. Binging his elbows up until his tattooed digits pressed against their opposite knuckles letting out a series of little pops, Ryan turned his head towards the rectangular window that took up most of your empty wall. “I’m guessin’ you’re not goin’ to work today,” he wagered, taking in the snowfall.

You were glad for the change in subject, glad that he seemed to sense it too. “Nope,” you sighed, leaning back against the wall, tilting your head so you could watch the snow as well. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

He chuckled, looking down through his long lashes as the laugh rumbled up from his chest, and you tried not to think about what it would feel like to press your hand there, to feel that happiness bubble up to the surface beneath his warm skin. Get up. Get up, get up, get up. You stood as he shook his head, that one unruly piece of hair falling rebelliously back down over his brow. “Stuck,” he blew air through his nose, squinting his eyes. “I’m not stuck, I’m,” You walked over to the window, two fingers moving the blinds aside. “I’m lucky.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed as you let go of the curved plastic blinds, letting them clack together, the draft that slipped in around the edges of the window chilling your fingertips. He just means that he’s lucky that he’s not outside, not that-

“I’m lucky. Not just ‘cause you gave me a place to stay. I’m...I feel lucky I met you, you know?”

Yeah, I know. You felt the same way about meeting him. Even if you never got to find out what waking up to him would be like, or how a laugh feels as it leaves his lungs, you had been lucky enough to find each other in the world on a day that you both needed it; lucky enough to find a friend in the storm. “Ryan,” you turned back to him, aware that there was emotion in your eyes that you couldn’t control. He was already looking at you, ready to receive your eyes as they fell to his. “Yeah, I-”

But you were cut short by the tingling ring of his phone from somewhere in his pocket. “Sorry.” He apologized with a sympathetic look as he reached for the phone, leaning to one side to make accessing his pocket easier as he dug the small plastic device out and glanced at the number. “Might be Virgina, maybe she’s callin’ from the motel or somethin’... I gotta…”

You shook your head dismissing his concerns. We were headed toward dangerous territory anyway. “No, that’s…” you gestured towards the phone as he smiled gratefully. “Go ahead.” You walked back towards the kitchen to give him privacy, not wanting him to feel the need to go outside to take the call.

“Hey, Virginia?” He answered, hopeful excitement in his question. “That you?” I hope he gets to see them today. You smiled as you crossed the vacant dining room, feet finding the tiled floor of the tiny kitchen. I should see about breakfast, maybe I have some…

You didn’t mean to listen, but you couldn’t help but hear. His tone took a hardened edgen as he stood abruptly from the mattress, one hand raking through the ruffled nest of his hair. “Jackie?” You busied yourself with opening the refrigerator and counting your eggs. Who’s that? He’d told you about Cowboy and Virginia, Georgie and Robin and Oz and Louie, but no one named Jackie had come up in the stories that he shared last night. Before you could wonder if there was a woman in Ryan’s life that he’d forgotten to tell you about- no, that doesn’t seem like something he would do, stay in my home without telling me he’s in a relationship- He was speaking again. “Wait. Woah, woah, Jackie, wait.” Oh, that’s not… You realized quickly that it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be having. He paced the living room but showed no signs of stepping out to finish the call, so you did your best to focus on putting food together. “Jackie,” you heard him say finally as you cracked eggs in a bowl. “Jackie, why are you callin’ me? It’s not…” He sighed and there was another long pause as he moved towards the window where you’d been just a few moments before. “Thank you,” he said, “but that’s…” Another pause that you tried to fill by taking a frying pan out of your cabinet and perching it atop one of the burners. “Jackie, listen to me please? There’s nothin’ to…No, we aren’t… Jackie? There’s nothin’ left to say, Jackie. I’m not comin’ back. I know that’s why you-” You’d poured the eggs into the hot pan and they hissed as he pulled the phone away from his ear and swore under his breath. “Jackie? I’m hangin’ up now. Please don’t call me again, okay?” He flipped the phone closed with more force than was necessary and tossed it to the mattress, letting out a sigh. Yikes. You heard him rifle through his pack, mumbling to himself as he pulled out a small tobacco tin and a sleeve of rolling papers.

You opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a spatula before pushing it back in with your hip. The sound of the rollers caught Ryan’s attention and he turned towards the kitchen as you started moving the quickly cooking eggs in the pan.

“I’m sorry, that was” he crossed over to lean on the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space.

You shook your head and looked over your shoulder at him. “It’s fine, Ryan, don’t…” You waved one hand nonchalantly, the other still working to scramble breakfast.

“That was…” He blew out a breath and took a sip of his coffee, draining his mug and setting it down next to the tin. Guess he’s gonna tell me anyway. You switched off the pan, letting the eggs finish cooking in the residual heat, and balanced the spatula against the handle. He waited until you turned to face him to continue. “Her name is Jackie, and I used to… we were…” he squinted his eyes as he searched for the word.

“Together?” You supplied, raising one eyebrow.

“No,” he said firmly. “No we weren’t really together she… we met when I was stoppin’ in Utah last year, and she just…” He sighed and pushed his hand over his hair again, seemingly frustrated at his inability to explain what this woman meant to him. “It wasn’t right,” he said finally with a small movement of his head back and forth. “It never was, she just… we met and then she kept… she was tryin’ to make me stay, right from the beginnin’, I see that now. She knew I was just in town a couple’a days, but she was tryin’ to fit me into her life there in Ogden. I was stayin’ with her when I got the news about Cowboy and it just…” He picked up the tin and held it up. “You mind if I roll this, I’ll smoke it outside a’course.”

You nodded and gestured that he should go ahead and he thanked you. You didn’t know this woman, but what he’d told you and the way he sounded when he was on the phone with her was enough for you to form an opinion, and it wasn’t a favorable one. She took advantage of him when he was grieving. That’s…

“After I left Odgen, I came back, few weeks later, and we… I tried but I just… I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be, you know? It was never gonna work.” You watched him start to work on crafting a cigarette. “She didn’t,” he shook his head, eyes focused on the tobacco leaf and the thin paper he was rolling it in, shifting his fingers to craft a perfect cylinder. “She wasn’t a cheater, she didn’ lie or anythin’ she just,” he pinched the empty bit of paper at the tip and gave it a small shake. “She wanted me to change too much.”

You frowned, though he didn’t see it. You’d only known him for a day and a half, but you couldn’t imagine him any other way; you couldn’t imagine wanting him to change. But I never thought Kevin would expect me to change, either. They were a slightly different set of circumstances- you’d been with Kevin for years and had already made enormous lifestyle changes for him when he’d decided that they weren’t enormous enough. From what Ryan had told you of Jackie, she seemed to like the package that he came in but didn’t care for the things that made him Ryan and not somebody else. She wanted to change him from the start. That’s so...selfish. Your frown deepened as you turned back to the stove and removed the pan from the burner, sliding it to another so it could cool. “I’m glad you didn’t,” you faced him again, expecting him to still be busy with the cigarette, but he’d finished with it by the time you turned around.

That same look crossed his face that you thought you saw earlier, the look that you felt on your own face as you told yourself not to get too close to something that was only going to be gone soon. “Yeah,” he said, tapping the cigarette twice against the countertop. “Yeah, me too.” He blinked and tilted his chin towards what you’d been cooking. “Did you make breakfast?” You nodded and he grinned, shaking his head and erasing the leftover stale feeling that talking about Jackie had brought about. “I was gonna offer to do that, to thank you for-” Again the ringing of his phone cut the conversation short and he took a breath before going to retrieve it. This time a relieved expression crossed his face as he read the caller ID. “This time it is Ginny,” he said, motioning to the door. “I’m gonna step out an talk to her and then we can,” he pointed to the eggs as he picked up his jacket, sticking the cigarette between his lips. “An I got somethin’ I want you to hear, Junebug, song I woke up with in my head. Want you to give it a listen. That okay?” The phone rang again in his hand as he waited for your response.

Your heart beat like the steel drum in Max’s store as he shoved his feet into his boots. “Yeah, Ryan, that’s okay.”

He smiled, cigarette still between his lips as he opened the phone and stepped toward the back door. “Ginny?” He pulled the door shut behind him and you stared at it, rooted in place.

He wants me to listen to the song he’s working on? You cast your eyes around the room, from the dishes he’d done to the coffee he’d made, the fire he’d kept lit and the blankets he’d left his warmth on. It was easier last night to pretend that this wouldn’t be a problem, that you wouldn’t want all of this as much as you did. But his pack, guitar and hat looked good in the corner of the room. Oh, no.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @traeumerinwitzhelden @gollyderek @breanime @obscurilicious @malionnes

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed! (and if i added or removed you in error, I apologize!)

#passing through #PT #passing through part 5 #thaw #ryan brenner #ryan brenner x you #ryan brenner x reader #ryan brenner x junebug #ryan brenner fanfic #jackie and ryan #ugh jackie laurel gross #oh no #things are happening

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ansgar-martinsson · 4 years

Text

The Best Intentions - Part 35

“Come on, Viktoria, darling,” Ansgar sang through grit teeth. He adored the child, but his patience had worn thin. The dear girl had thrown a full-on toddler-style tantrum in the middle of the park – face down, dress rumpled and ruched up over her leggings-clad bum, fists pounding, legs kicking, hair flying, in the wood shavings beneath the play set.

She’d wanted, apparently, to use the circle-shaped round and round swinging thing, for which Ansgar had no idea what the name was, but she’d wanted it anyway; and there had been a line of other children waiting for it.

But she’d wanted it right then and there, sod the line. Sod the other kids. Sod the horrified parents watching her and ‘tsk’ing at her - at him.

Sod her uncle who was hovering over her, bent double, begging and pleading in a quasi-soothing, increasingly-furious tone with her to “Get up… get up Beanie. Viktoria Bean Martinsson, you stop this nonsense and you get up right now. Right this minute. Come on, darling, sweet summer child, up you get.”

Sod her mum, sod her papa, sod the twins, sod the ice cream man, sod everyone. She wanted the… circle thing… and she would have it.

Or not.

“All right then, alskling,” Ansgar had hissed, wrapping an arm around her waist and heaving her, kicking and screeching, to his hip. “We’re leaving!”

And so, they’d left. Beanie having gone limp, snot-soaked and sobbing beneath Ansgar’s arm, the twins - placid and unknowing in their double pram, pushed along with Ansgar’s free hand. And Ansgar, fizzing with fury and red with embarrassment, had wondered just how the fuck Magnus managed to deal with such things every single damn day.

“I get to be the fun one, she says… cool auntie, she says…” he muttered to himself, only to be interrupted by a high-pitched male voice. The voice of some man who’d jogged jauntily up to Ansgar at the car as he was loading the children in.

“Hey! All right there, Mags?”

“Huh, me?” Thunk. Ouch! Ah! Fffff…. fiddle feathers!” he’d cursed, rubbing angrily at his head. The sharp impact against the car’s door jamb rang through his skull, blurring his vision and cramping his jaw. The word ‘fuck’ rest precariously on the tip of his tongue, teeth buried deep into his bottom lip, but he’d promised. No profanity around the Bean… although, he knew from the content of her screaming tirade moments before that she knew exactly what words were naughty and exactly what words to use when one is furious beyond control.

“Yeah, man,” the overly fit arsehole had said, patting Ansgar jovially on the back. “Lookin’ like you’ve got a handful there. The kid giving you a hard time? Need help?”

Ansgar had stiffened, railing at the stranger’s unwelcomed and impertinent touch of his person. He felt a sneer lift the edge of his lip, but with a breath, he brought his face back under control. “No, thank you,” he said tersely, calmly, and leaned back into the car.

“When’d you grow a beard, Mags? I swear I just saw you out in your yard yesterday, and your face was bare as a baby’s bottom. Is that fake or something?”

Click. Ansgar had fastened the buckle over Axel’s little belly and, as Rebecka had showed him, fixed the blanket around his legs, having done the same to Ingrid. He offered the child the pacifier, and when the baby took it, closed his eyes, and relaxed into the seat, Ansgar, too, took a breath.

He’d crawled back out of the car, stood straight, and peered irritably at the man, arms akimbo. “It’s not fake,” he said.

“You sure about that?” The man had reached out a hand to touch Ansgar’s face, to see for himself.

Ansgar bent back, turning his face, and he slapped the man’s hand away. “Bugger off! It’s mine. It’s real, and I’m not Magnus, okay?”

The man had made an incredulous face, turning his head to fix Ansgar with a gimlet eye. “Come off it,” he said, popping Ansgar one on the shoulder - there he was with the touching again - “You’re Magnus Martinsson. My neighbor. What’s the deal, man?”

Ansgar had sighed and glared at the man, his face a mask of annoyance, of burgeoning anger just bubbling beneath the surface and waiting to explode. “The deal, man,” Ansgar mocked. “Is that I am his brother. Ansgar. Not Magnus. And I am… babysitting…,” the word had tripped from his lips on a wave of icy venom, “my brother’s children.”

His eyes flashed. “Not to mention, one of said children just staged her very own Shakespeare in the Park tragedy right over there,” he pointed. “So. I am taking her home, where I shall fill her face full of ice cream or muesli or applesauce or whatever will work to settle her down, then we shall have a bit of a cuddle, and I shall put her to bed. Now,” he quirked a sardonic smile. “If you will kindly step away from my brother’s daddy-mobile grocery-getter, I can get in, start the damn car, and get the flippin’ hell out of here before I die of absolute mortification.”

“Flippin hell!” a small voice chimed from within the car. “Flippin’ hell!”

Ansgar had growled, eyeing the man with increasing disdain. “Excuse me. Please.” he said dangerously, and he turned, folded himself into the car, and started the engine.

Only to hear “flippin’ hell… flippin’ hell… flippin’ hell…” sung in a bouncy, off-key child soprano all the way back to his brother’s house.

And now, they were back in the house, and Ansgar’s beloved niece, Viktoria Bean Martinsson, was barely able to keep her eyes open, barely able to walk into the house at the heels of her uncle, exhausted as she was. “Uncle Sgar, pick me up. Want you ta hold me pweeze an’ I’ll sleep wif you.”

And Ansgar looked down at the little girl, the little girl whose blonde curls and blue eyes looked so much like his own. And now those little blonde curls were mussed and tangled with bits of brown bark, and those blue eyes were large, trusting, and imploring, yet glazed, rheumy, and tired.

And she was the most heart-melting thing he’d ever seen.

He pushed the stroller into the living room, the twins having fallen asleep, and he picked the girl up, smiling as she rendered herself into his arms, against his chest, over his shoulder.

***

Ansgar sat on the sofa, legs spread wide beneath him, Beanie sprawled splay-legged, face-down over his chest. Her sleepy, sweet breath wuffled softly over his neck and cheek. The twins he had fed, changed their nappies (oh, Christ, the smell!) and settled them into their own cots for the night.

Now with just Beanie with him, he lifted his phone high above him, peering up at it as he was finally able to read Joline’s text. A text that was time-stamped about four hours prior. He frowned, confused, even though the text was obviously sent to prevent confusion.

Sorry - was out and about with the children. A bit insane. Envied your “cool auntie” status with your nephews. What do you mean faithful, darling? I have no doubt you’re faithful to me. Why do you feel the need to reassure me of that?

He let his hand drop to his side, his eyes growing heavy. The weight and warmth of the child, the after-bath lavender and chamomile scent of her, the softness of her cotton pyjamas, the tickle of her still-damp curls – all lulled him to a slumber of his own.

His mind wandered to thoughts of her, thoughts of Joline, images and flashes of their time together - the beautiful fury on her face, the passion replaced thereby moments later, her smile, her eyes, her body beneath his, her mind, her spirit. And he felt the need to express it to her.

Once and for all.

I trust you implicitly, Joline. I know it’s only been a short time, but I find myself awash with feelings for you. They’re rather pleasurable, and new, and different, and frankly, I feel like a new man with you. I want to name them but I’m afraid to, but if I did I would call them something like… love.

He shook his head, cringing after he’d hit send on the last message. “Idiot. Arsehole,” he groused, tapping the edge of the phone to his forehead. “Telling her that way, what’s wrong with you?” He lifted the phone again, pressed the button for FaceTime, and dialed her number. The chirpy ring of his iPhone sounded and sounded and sounded, and eventually timed out with a discouraging beep, her having not answered.

“Damn,” he swore, and then he tried simply calling her. Again, the phone played the ring music for him through the speakerphone, and again she did not answer. He flipped back to the home screen, seeing the time - 10:45 pm.

He furrowed his brow, sat up, and gently moved the child aside to rest, mumbling to herself, on the sofa. His gut clenched, a combination of fear and worry and self-loathing. Telling her you love her, his mind berated him. You dipshit. Now look what you’ve done. She’s stopped speaking to you. You’ve frightened her. With an irritated growl, he scooted forward to the edge of the seat, hunched over the phone, and texted.

Darling? Are you there?

Nothing. Not even the little bubble with the three dots. Not even an indication that his messages had been read or delivered. He blew out his breath and stood, pacing the small living room, his mind whirring and whirling. But then, he stopped. He closed his eyes. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled slowly on puffed cheeks.

Trust her, his other, more rational voice said. She’s occupied. Not near her phone. Busy. Sleeping, Taking a bath, taking a shit, taking care of her mum, watching a film… She’s not ignoring you. The world does not revolve around you, Ansgar Martinsson. She’s fine. She … she loves you too. She hasn’t said it but you know it. In your bones, deep down in your bones, you know it.

Ansgar brought his phone to bear, and set his thumbs on the keyboard again. It’s late on a Sunday, he texted, I suppose you’re busy at home. I’m knackered, and I need to hit the sack. Long day. Will tell you about it tomorrow. Early flight and then I will meet you at the Opera House at ten sharp. Don’t be late.

And then, with a smile on his face, a shrug, and attitude of ‘why not?’ He sent one more text.

I love you, Joline Lindberg. Think on that, my darling, and sleep well.

Ansgar’s words played over and over on a loop in her mind, and her focus had been split by his fingers inside her at the time. Pleasure pounded in her ears then, her body strung out and tensed for the fall into blissful oblivion, her hands full of leather seat, her toes curled in her heels. But she’d heard them all the same, that hidden possessive threat.

‘While I’m away in Ystad, no orgasms. Your orgasms belong to me.’

Ansgar had said it in the heat of the moment, just before he left her side for more than twenty-four hours and two nights in her own bed. She’d realized that he’d promised fidelity to her but she hadn’t promised herself to him at the same time. She should have done it then, only so he didn’t have to ask – demand – that she remained his.

Joline couldn’t name the moment, pinpoint the minute she knew or at what point she had become so, but she knew. The second, that split in time didn’t matter, only that she recognized that she belonged to him, with him, for him. Reassuring him felt an important step for her, as much as it was for him.

It was the most important realization in her world until the infection hit.

There were good days and bad days since her mother’s diagnosis; that Sunday had been the worst yet. Emelie, in her weakened state, fell victim to infections often, sometimes without warning or any symptoms.

Emelie’s restless energy should have tipped Joline off that something was wrong. Too rare though that Emelie would let Joline fuss over her beyond administering her daily medications and nightly treatments. Schedules, pill bottles, catheters, needles and other medical equipment littered every room in the house. Emelie despised the reminders of her fate, and did everything to minimize it for her daughter and son. She lied, hid, and withheld the truth to keep them in the dark about how her disease progressed.

It was true, Joline’s cooking could only be described as mediocre at best. The taste of the omelets didn’t put her in the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl though. Not this time. Emelie disguised her sickness by running the shower to cover the sound. She wouldn’t let Joline touch her for fear that the fever would clue her daughter into what was happening. She knew, only too well…

“Mama,” Joline called from the lounge in late afternoon, “shall I put on a dvd?”

From the confine of the bathroom, Emelie cleared her throat and padded her flushed face with a cool wet flannel. “No… no, baby girl, you’re—“ She gulped, choking back another wave of nausea. She took a deep breath chasing the rise in her esophagus back down. “You-you’re working.”

Joline clapped her binder closed, swinging her bare legs off the armrest of the oversized reading chair. She sat sideways on the chair every time, it supported her back and didn’t make her sit funny like her computer chair did. She knotted herself into a human pretzel in that contraption.

“My day off, I’m… I’ve a meeting tomorrow. Reviewed all I could for that,” she lied to her mother. With Ansgar involved as her partner and the man she was seeing, she kept mum on what she’d really been going over, the lighting permits. Until she knew where she stood with Ansgar and the rumors died down to the next scandal, she could avoid mentioning him to her mother.

“I’m… okay, baby girl.”

“Good to know, but I didn’t ask,” Joline quipped unfolding and standing from her chair. She shoved her binder and house issued netbook into her leather bag from Monday. She checked her phone in case she’d missed an incoming message from Ansgar, in case it hadn’t sounded. No luck, but she knew he was busy with the newborn twins and the toddler.

Emelie called out, “Don’t wait for… me.”

“How about fika and kanelbulle?” Joline offered rummaging through the kitchen cupboard for a snack. She found the last of the pastries, and the thought of coffee made her mouth water. She flipped the switch on her coffee maker and fetached two mugs from the cupboard.

Emelie finally emerged from the bathroom while Joline brewed her K cups, staggering through her fever, feeling dizzy. She took a tremulous breath and spoke unevenly, “Jo-line.”

Her daughter whirled around just in time to see her fall to the floor.

In one singular instant, Joline was thrust into her worst fucking nightmare. From the moment her mother collapsed to the floor like a rag doll, fear stuck to her. Her new shadow. “MAMA!” Her scream echoed against the empty spaces in the room, the high pitch bouncing back.

She lunged to the floor, dropping to her hands and knees beside the prone figure of her mother, her best friend, her favorite person on the face of the planet. Handfuls of her mother’s clothes filled her palms as she unraveled the older woman. Joline pressed her cool hands to her mother’s inflamed face. The shock of the burn made her gasp and draw away, terror gripping the base of her spine. Gently she tried rousing her mother with gentle slaps against her cheeks.

“Mama? Mama? Please, please…” she heard the panic rise in her voice, “oh, God… not now. Mama?” She checked her mother’s pulse point. Weak but present. Checked her breathing. Shallow but steady. If she had her wits, she would’ve grabbed the blood pressure machine that she used morning and night to check her mother’s levels.

A lump of dread and alarm formed in the back of her throat, but she used it as fuel. Fuel to push her to her feet. To propel her towards her mobile. To pound her fingers to dial 112 for emergency responders. To fall to her mother’s side once more.

“What is the nature of your emergency please?” A flat voice asked immediately.

“Please, please, send an ambulance…” Joline’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “It’s, it’s, it’s my mother. She’s ill… she’s sick. Please send help.” Brokenly she rattled off the address of her childhood home in Gamla Stan, not for the first time, but she always feared it would be the last. She wasn’t blind to her mother’s condition.

“How old is the victim?”

“She’s sixty-three… she suffers… from kidney failure, a complication of Lupus.” As calmly as she could, she named all the medications, dosages, and the time of her last hookup to the peritoneal dialysis. Joline memorized all the pertinent information for emergencies of this nature. It was precisely the reason she’d returned to Sweden.

The dispatcher talked her through to when the first responders arrived, Joline barely functional in her worry. She threw her mobile aside when the bell sounded and she let the two men in to tend to her mother. Within minutes, they were on route to urgent care. The next hour flew by in a flurry of rushed, barked orders, checking and rechecking her mother and dashing her into the intensive care unit.

Infection… that was the only part Joline understood in her shock. She was near comatose, completely beside herself when the nurse pressed a phone into her hand and ordered her to call someone. She rung Elias since she knew the number, and the dam burst when she heard his voice on the other end of the line.

“Elias,” she cried. “You better come. It’s… mum. She’s sick.”

#the best intentions

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evil-overlord-scriptology · 4 years

Text

But I Don’t Want to be a Sensei! Pt. 6 (ARCHIVED)

Chapters 18 & 19

Chapter 18: Prank Wars, Revenge of the Siblings!

vvv 3rd POV~ Sasuke vvv

A girly shriek resounded all throughout the Compound, followed by Obito yelling for Yanagi. On Itachi's other side, Shisui barked a laugh, “How much you want to bet Yagi-chan shoved a beetle down Obito-senpai's shirt again?” Sasuke gave his brother's best friend an annoyed look. It had been one of the few times that Itachi was willing to spend time with him, and Shisui came and ruined it!

Itachi-nii had told him once that Shisui used to be close to Yanagi and Obito. It bothered Sasuke even more not knowing why his cousins and Shisui drifted apart. He suspected it had something to do with Yanagi-sensei. Both Shisui and Obito-itoko weren't the kind of people to drop a friend, but Yanagi definitely was.

Itachi shrugged at his best friend's question, “It's that or chili pepper again.” Naruto had told Sasuke about that one. Somehow Naruto had ended up at Yanagi's house for dinner yesterday and she had dumped an entire container of chili powder in Obito's food as the first prank of the war. The next day Obito approached Sasuke and Naruto with a proposition for helping him in a prank, which they agreed to, stupidly.

Had Itachi-nii not intervened, Sasuke hadn't a doubt that Yanagi might actually have broken his arm the way she flung him around. Though she earned a harsh reprimand from the Hokage and Sasuke's father, Yanagi was back the next day throwing a bee hive at Obito's face.

It went on from there for the next several days. Pranks ranged from exploding flour bombs, which irritated Aunt Uruchi to no end since they had stolen her best flour, to elaborate pranks involving squirrels, super glue, and a healthy amount of some type of itching salve flinched from Obito's female teammate. There was even a rumor flying around that Yanagi had bodily thrown an Academy student at her brother.

Prank Wars between Yanagi and Obito were a serious business as well as an entertaining one. Someone, Sasuke suspected one of Obito's friends, had started a betting pool on who would win this war. Had Kaa-chan not explicitly told her sons to not bet a single yen, or else, Sasuke would have placed his money on Yanagi-sensei.

He already knew how ruthless his sensei could be.

vvv Normal POV vvv

Obito: 28 Yanagi: 27

“Would you be quiet?!” I hissed to the two quarreling genin behind me as Obito came into view. Naruto and Sasuke blanched and finally shut their traps, they had already learned earlier this week that I was very irritable and quite violent if my pranks messed up because they couldn't shut their damn mouths.

Obito-nii passed Checkpoint One and didn't notice a thing. Giggling under my breath, my fingers slowly tightened on the ninja wire I held. the feel of it's sharp metal biting into the pads of my fingers was wonderful and made me almost giddy with the near accomplishment of my newest prank.

...Checkpoint Two…

...Three…

The thin beige covering on the pothole I had Naruto prepare last night gave under Nii-san's foot. I saw my brother pause and look down confused when seemingly solid ground collapsed. “Now!” I roared and yanked on the ninja wire, releasing the chakra-reinforced bamboo cage that Kakashi-nii had prepared for me.

Obito yelped when the cage landed, it's sharpened poles digging into the ground so it would be hard to get out. I knew it wouldn't hold him long, my brother was called the Uchiha Phantom for a reason, but it would hold long enough for the prank.

The one eyed Uchiha snapped around to glare at me when I stood up in triumph. “You think this can hold me?” He growled. Oh Kami, it was like Nii-san had jumped out of some cheesy festival play that Mikoto-oba was addicted to. I still remember being subjected to those horrors all throughout my childhood. Obito, Itachi and I all avoided festivals with a passion because of those dreaded plays Mikoto-oba dragged us to every year when we were young.

Sasuke, the lucky bastard, never had to face the horror of cheesy plots and drama.

I decided to play along with it, “May you rot in eternity, Nii-san, for your crimes against the public!” I said with flair and a poker face that made the ANBU masks full of expression.

Obito's flat 'you are so dead to me' look was beyond priceless.

Kakashi-nii landed beside me before I could disturb my poor brother even further, “We have a schedule, Yanagi, stick to it.” The masked jounin reminded me.

I waved a hand, “Alright alright.” I grumbled then raised my voice, “First wave! Forward!”

Out of no where, known victims of Obito's past pranks appeared, holding balloons filled with paint, glue, water, and oil. Kakashi and I grinned at the now terrified Obito; well I think Kakashi-nii grinned, it was hard to tell with that mask of his. This was what Nii-san got for tripping me, and Kakashi who had been walking beside me, into the Naka river yesterday. It had been an accident, but Obito made the foolish choice to claim it was a prank to break the tie we had been in for the past four days. In retaliation, Kakashi changed loyalties and together we planned the Ultimate (Flowering Lotus) Prank to End All (Youthful) Pranks as Gai had put it.

Kakashi-nii was ever so helpful to grab me and shunshin the both of us to a rooftop out of firing range. “Fire!” I screamed and as one, colorful balloons soared towards the poor little bamboo cage and the well deserving victim trapped inside. I watched gleefully as my brother slowly turning into a multicolored, gooey blob.

“Second wave! Approach!” I called out once the first wave was out of ammunition. This time it was Obito's friends, and their students, who showed up, sporting large bags made of burlap. These were filled with sand, glitter, flour, and chicken feathers. Genma joined Kakashi and I on the roof, a clipboard in hand, as Kakashi waved the second wave to start their attack. Obito's growling threats of recompense was music to my ears; sadly I had to ignore it in favor of Genma.

Several years ago, when the first Prank War started, Genma asked for neutrality from all our pranks in return that he be the Record Keeper; that way there was no dispute on who won the war. Over the years Genma's job slowly evolved into not only keeping up with the record, but also judging the pranks and awarding points based on creativity, ruthlessness, and complexity. He also kept up with the loyalties of Kakashi– which changed often enough that even Kakashi couldn't keep up with it– the irritability of superiors, namely Fugaku and the Hokage, and controlled the betting pool that always cropped up when Prank Wars started.

The senbon wielder looked at the scene below us, then at the two of us. “Kakashi is on your side now?” Genma asked. I let Kakashi answer that one and watched him with my sharingan activated. During the fifth Prank War, Kakashi had played the dirty double agent to sabotage my pranks. Since then I never really trusted him again, at least when it came to pranks. Luckily for Kakashi, I could tell he wasn't lying, otherwise he would join Nii-san in the cage and become target practice for genin.

Genma studied the scene below him with the intensity of a building inspector, “Hm… I'll give you three points, the ruthlessness of the prank is somewhat lacking. As is the creativity, I've seen you do better than that Yanagi-chan. But I have to give you credit for the complexity.” Genma eyed me, “What did you do to get everyone to go along with this?”

I smirked, “Secret.” I quipped. I would never give out my pranking methods any more than I would give away blackmail unless I got something out of it.

There was a small beep and Genma and I turned around to see Kakashi looking at a timer. He turned his single eye on me, “Time's up.”

“For what?”

Instead of answering, the sneaky little bastard gave me his famous eye smile and jumped into the fray to release Obito. There was a stillness on the battlefield and my brother slowly climbed out of the cage, wiping off large globs of stickiness and flinging it at anyone close by. Then Obito slowly turned to glare at me. His single eye was glowing red with the sharingan.

Shit.

“Damn you, Kakashiiiii!” I shrieked as I hightailed it out of there. Nii-san was close on my heels and hands outstretched and fingers hooked, ready to catch me or strangle me I didn't care to find out.

vvv

Obito: 49 Yanagi: 52

I yawned as the Hokage went on and on about representing the shinobi population to the citizens of Konoha and how it was our duty to uphold and respect the citizenry of the village we protected… or something like that. I was just happy that the prank went as well as it did. There had been a fifty percent chance that the prank could have ended worse than it did. Honestly, what I had predicted as the best outcome turned out to be far worse than what actually happened.

Wasn't my fault that the oldest restaurant in the village, which was said to have been built by the Shodaime himself with the first Mokuton houses when Konoha was founded, went up in flames.

I got good points from Genma for the impromptu firework show though.

“…silly feud will stop now! I've indulged you long enough, but now that you are endangering the lives of this village it will stop, do you understand me?” The Hokage ranted as he paced back and forth in front of my brother and I.

“Yes sir!” Obito responded immediately, his single eye forward and hardened with formality. Hiruzen-sama was the person whom Obito respected the most, after the Yondaime. Like Naruto, Obito seemed to think of the old man as a grandfather figure. However unlike Naruto, Nii-san knew that Hiruzen would first and foremost be our Hokage before he was a grandfather type and treated the old man with a little more respect than my blonde student.

“…Yes sir.” I answered a beat after Obito, slightly rebellious and with very little respect. Mostly because I now owed money to Anko in a personal bet of who would end the War: Fugaku or the Hokage. The one time I was expecting the Uchiha clan leader to end something, and the old codger didn't even lift a damn finger.

I hate my uncle.

vvv

“Okay, two D-rank missions today.” I said as way of greeting once all three of my brats showed up. After the Hokage had chewed Obito and I out yesterday for the pranks, he practically threw the two missions at me, saying that they were special requests for Team 7.

Not only did Naruto groan, but so did Sasuke. “D-rank? We completed an A-rank mission, shouldn't we get better missions now?” I was mildly surprised that it was Sasuke who complained. But then, he was a cocky little shit and probably thought that since we survived an A-rank mission, we didn't need puny D-ranks anymore.

I pegged Sasuke with one of the scrolls, “Stop complaining! Team 7 was extremely lucky to survive that mission and neither the Hokage or I are willing to put untested genin back into that situation so soon.” I didn't tell them that, because of the Wave mission, every C-rank mission was closed to all genin teams until they were verified on their true mission rank. Fifteen missions had already been changed to a higher standard and the clients fined huge sums because of their dishonesty.

Sasuke glared at me as he rubbed the side of his head where the scroll had hit him, but he said nothing. Naruto, however, wasn't so keen on keeping his mouth shut, “Yeah, but if they give us a proper C-rank then we shouldn't have a problem, right?!”

Boy was his logic flawed.

My last scroll hit home, right down Naruto's face. There was a second of stillness as his body teetered for balance, before the blonde idiot toppled over. Not a moment later, Dumbass sat up with a very amusing red mark dividing his face in half, “Hey!”

I gave him a distasteful look, “Team 7 is cursed with bad luck. Whatever C-rank we get is bound to go wrong. Hell, you can't even complete half of the D-ranks without messing something up.”

“Doesn't mean you can throw things at your students!”

“It's practice.”

“For who?!”

“For you to dodge. That could have been an enemy kunai and you would be dead, congratulations. Now give me the scroll back. You too, Duckass.” I countered dryly. Both came flying end of end towards me at a rabid pace, Sasuke's a smidgen faster than Naruto's scroll. I grabbed Sasuke's out of the air before it could strike me in the chest and let Naruto's fly over my shoulder to hit a random tree behind me. “Work on your aim too, Dumbass.” I commented as I walked to retrieve the scroll he had thrown.

Hinata seemed to be tired of our antics when I returned to stand in front of them, “Y-you said we have t-two missions, S-sensei?” She prompted.

Mentally I ticked off a check mark. Getting Hinata to initiate a conversation: Done!

“Yes, and we're in luck!” My sarcasm was almost tangible, “The Hokage gave us two special request missions.” Special request missions rarely involved D-ranks, and they were normally babysitting missions for teams that had a special handle for kids. I knew for damn sure that whatever the missions were, they couldn't be a babysitting mission. No sane parent would trust the Kyuubi brat to babysit their spawn, let alone two anti-social Uchiha. While it might be bragging rights to say that the Hyuuga heiress had babysat your unholy imp it wasn't worth it to have the two walking disasters and their violent sensei under the same roof.

Sasuke scrunched his nose up in displeasure, “If it's the Capture Tora mission again...” At that all three of my genin shuddered while I laughed. There was nothing quite amusing as seeing an Uchiha scared of a cat. In fact, as far as I knew only Itachi had never been afraid of Tora. Even I had been when I was still a genin.

“No, but there will be cats on a mission. Nekobaa wants us to-”

Naruto cut me off, “No. Way! I'm not going to clean that weird lady's house again!”

“…Wants us to-”

“Not doing it! Go tell the Hokage that I refuse to go there again!”

“Dumbass, if you interrupt me again, I'll personally lock you in a room with Nekomata-sama and say you are a dog lover!” I snapped impatiently. Only Sasuke really got the levity of my threat, but Hinata at least got an inkling of what it entailed when she saw Sasuke staring at me in horror.

Naruto just shrugged, “Eh, so what? It's not like this Nekomata guy can do anything to me.”

“Lord Nekomata happens to be the Boss summon of the Uchiha clan. And do you know what summon the Uchiha clan uses?” I didn't wait for any of them to try and answer, “Cats.”

Now Naruto was understanding what exactly I was getting at. He gulped and laughed nervously, trying to play my threat off as a joke. I simply stared at him through narrowed eyes until he finally shut up.

“Now, as I was saying. Nekobaa wants us to come pick up the newest order and transport it to the Clan Compound. We'll be going to Sora-ku to Nekobaa's shop tomorrow and will be gone all day. That means that you have the rest of today to complete your other mission.” I tossed the other scroll at Hinata, who scrambled to catch it.

“Wait, what about you?” Sasuke asked me.

I waved a dismissive hand, “I've got other things to do. By the way, if you screw this mission up, I'm signing all of you up for a very special training regimen.” I smiled in such a way that Team 7 knew whatever 'special training' I had in mind would be torture for them.

After tossing training ideas around with Asuma and Kurenai, I learned that the best motivator to get the job done right was to threaten my brats with Gai.

It's how Asuma got his lazyass genius to do things.

Mock saluting my trio of brats I disappeared with a puff of smoke as I shunshined the hell out of there. Rin had announced that she would pay for any jounin kunoichi who showed up at one of the local hot springs. The fun part was she didn't tell us which one, only that if we didn't arrive by noon then she wouldn't pay for us.

Sometimes Nii-san influenced Rin too much, but I was fine with that.

vvv 3rd POV vvv

Team 7 all sighed when Yanagi-sensei disappeared. Sometimes it felt like she was only babysitting them and not actually trying to teach them to be true ninjas. In fact the only time she even bothered to teach the genin something, it was during the Wave mission. For the weeks afterwards, Yanagi was too busy with her pranks to even bother paying attention to her students and her negligence was starting to show.

“D-rank M-mission,” Hinata read off the scroll Yanagi-sensei had given her, “B-babysitting.” At that Naruto groaned. Hinata gave her crush a side glance, blushing, before continuing, “B-babysitting H-h-ho-hokage-sama's g-grand-s-son, K-Konohamaru.”

Naruto stopped his dramatics and perked up, “Konohamaru? Really? Yes!” He cheered. This was a mission he could stand! Nothing like getting to hang out with his kohai and getting paid for it!

Sasuke bit back a sigh. He could already tell that this was going to be a disaster.

vvv

“Hey! Hey boss! I'm appointing you the leader of the Konohamaru Corps! And your first mission is to find the red four-leaf clover!” Konohamaru shouted the second he saw Naruto.

Naruto blinked at him for a moment, then exchanged a confused glance with Sasuke, who only shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Sasuke did not pretend to understand younger kids. Most Uchiha children were treated more like adults than kids, and as a result they often had a more mature mentality than the rest of their age mates.

“What's this Konohamaru Corp?” Naruto finally asked, feeling like it was the safest question he could ask his little kohai. Even Naruto understood that there were somethings you were better off not knowing, especially when it came to Konohamaru.

The kid puffed out his chest and planted his fists on his hips, “It's a newly established renovation corps of Konohagakure!”

Naruto seemed to like that answer, he grinned hugely, “Oh? And how many members do we have so far?”

The scarf-wearing little boy touched his index finger to his chin as he pretended to think, then pointed up at Naruto, “Well there's you, the leader, and me, the lieutenant general...”

Naruto posed, “And and?”

“And that's it for now!” Konohamaru ended joyously. Naruto deflated like a balloon.

“What?! You should have told me it was just a game, dattebayo!” The blonde shouted.

Konohamaru continued as if he hadn't heard his senpai. Instead he was staring at the rest of Team 7 standing awkwardly in the doorway, “I guess they could join too.”

Naruto squinted at the two genin standing behind him, “Ne ne, I don't mind Hinata-chan, but Sasuke-teme can't be in the Konohamaru Corps!”

Sasuke scoffed, “Like I want to… loser.”

Konohamaru interrupted before a fight could break out, “Now, as I said we have a very important and dangerous mission! We must find the red four-leaf clover!”

“K-Konohamaru-kun… we c-can't do d-dan-dangerous missions. W-we have to baby-babysit you.” Hinata interjected but Konohamaru waved her off.

“Don't worry! There isn't anything that can defeat Naruto-nii-san! We'll be fine!” If Sasuke was a laughing person, he would have lost it just then. Naruto? Unbeatable? Maybe against a fly, but then again maybe not.

Before Naruto could puff up at the lies, Sasuke did a very 'Yanagi-like' thing and bopped him upside the head. “We're supposed to babysit you, Konohamaru, not go off on a wild goose chase for some dumb plant.”

The young Uchiha regretted it instantly when Konohamaru turned large watery puppy eyes on him, “Please, you don't understand!” Konohamaru bowed his head and looked at his hands, “There's this girl in the Academy. Her name is Yoshino Kaede and she's very cute...”

“So what's the problem?” Sasuke asked rudely. He couldn't stand little idiots with their ridiculous crushes, be they boy or girl.

Konohamaru sniffled, “She's leaving tomorrow...” He said dejectedly. “That's why I wanna get the red four-leaf clover. Because Kaede's friends said that if she got it, her wish to stay can come true and she can stay in the village.”

“Alright then!” Hinata and Konohamaru jumped at the sudden outburst from Naruto, “Well go get that red clover and you can give it to the girl you love!”

At that Konohamaru went completely red. He never said he loved Kaede-chan, just that he thought she was cute! With her teal colored hair and eyes and kind smile… a lot of the boys in the Academy thought she was the cutest girl in their class! And the nicest. And the smartest. And the one who brought the best sweets because her mother was a fantastic cook!

“Hold on! We're here to babysit him, not to go off on a stupid quest. Do you even know where this clover is?” Sasuke protested, trying to be the voice of reason. Unfortunately, Naruto was already sold to Konohamaru's plea and Hinata wouldn't take sides because she wasn't one to raise unnecessary conflict.

“In Akagahara…”

Sasuke deadpanned at the ten year old. “Akagahara? Really? You're going to risk your life for some stupid clover for a girl you'll never see again?”

Naruto gave his teammate the stink eye, “You know you're really starting to sound like Frizzy-sensei...” He commented before giving his best grin to the downtrodden Konohamaru, “Don't worry about the bastard, we'll get your clover, dattebayo! Teme can stay here if he's such a wuss.”

A shiver ran up Sasuke's spine. He was not a wuss! He just didn't want Yanagi-itoko after his head for not stopping the Honorable Grandson from being killed!

“Besides,” Naruto continued, “Konohamaru will go after the clover whether we do something or not, so isn't better if we go along and make sure he doesn't get hurt? To babysit Konohamaru, we have to be with him right?” Since when did Naruto become so manipulative?

Sasuke swore the dead last was hanging around Yanagi too much if he was starting to act like her. The young Uchiha opened his mouth, ready to protest the stupidity of their plan, when Hinata suddenly spoke, “N-Naruto-kun is right, S-S-Sasuke-san.”

Now Sasuke knew he had lost the battle. He threw up his hands and glowered at the wall, “Fine. But I'm blaming Naruto when Yanagi comes after us.” Naruto and Konohamaru waved away his threat, not even caring. They had gotten the sourpuss to agree to go! And that was all that mattered.

vvv

“Man… patrol here is always so boring. It's not like someone is ever going to get in...” Denryoku remarked as he thumped his sore shoulder with a fist. That new captain of theirs was a true slave driver. Not even Yanagi-taichō had been so brutal when it came to training, though she hadn't put Squad 18 through training since Ibo first joined it.

Ibo said nothing as he continued scanning the road for anyone coming close to the entrance into Akagahara. Denryoku felt sorry for his silent friend. Ibo probably was having the worst time adjusting to the new captain. Hyuuga Tokuma didn't treat Denryoku and Ibo like unique individuals the way Yanagi had, he treated them like soldiers that had no personality and he expected them to do whatever he asked. Yanagi had been Ibo's first captain, Squad 18 was the white haired Uchiha's first assignment and he had it extremely easy with the hot-tempered but understanding spitfire. Now poor Ibo was having to deal with an uptight Hyuuga who didn't take into consideration that Ibo avoided talking at all costs.

In Denryoku's opinion, Tokuma was more uptight than Fugaku-sama. Which was saying a lot.

Denryoku bumped his shoulder against his best friend's, “Hey, remember that time when Yanagi clobbered Shisui-san with the Spring/Summer Criminal Records Book of 37 A.K.E.?” The dark haired flirt chuckled at the memory. Oh it had been frightening at the time, because if was one of the rare instances that Shisui had actually lost his temper, but now all the Uchiha officers thought back on the incident with amusement.

Ibo huffed a little and signed with a single hand, 'Stop trying to cheer me up.'

The other Uchiha pretended to be offended, “Me? Cheer you up?! Why would I do such a thing?”

This time, Ibo finally gave his quiet laugh. Denryoku could never understand how Ibo did everything so quietly. He was almost like a ghost sometimes, especially with that ashen hair of his. If Obito-san didn't already have the nickname as 'Phantom Uchiha', Denryoku was sure that Ibo would have been tagged with it. As it was, many of the officers called Ibo the 'Wraith' behind the young man's back. Even Yanagi often called Ibo 'Silent Spook' to his face, but then Yanagi had an awful habit of assigning demeaning nicknames to everyone.

Everyone blamed Obito for his sister's rude habit.

They also blamed him for her blackmail collection.

And her general surliness.

Really, it was always Obito's fault when it came to something Yanagi did.

“Anything to report?” Tokuma asked as he suddenly popped up out of no where. Denryoku silently cursed his captain's 'pop goes the weasel' trick.

“Nope. All clear, as it always is.” Denryoku responded, his voice a little cutting. He had been in service for eight years, and had had three captains not including the Hyuuga, but this stuck up prick treated him as if he were the newbie. Even Ibo, who was only on his fourth year and only had Yanagi as his captain, was still more of a veteran than the Hyuuga.

Tokuma's captaincy had practically been handed to him on a silver platter. The Hyuuga was on record for having the quickest promotion in history of the Konoha MP, and that wasn't a good thing. He had been an officer for a year before Fugaku handed him a promotion in response to the accusations of Uchiha promoting only their own. Which was a load of bullshit. Code of Conduct clearly states that an officer must have at least five years before being considered for a captain promotion. Konoha MP hadn't even allowed non-Uchiha to join for four years before people started complaining about the 'lack' of non-Uchiha captains.

And Fugaku handed the first non-Uchiha promotion to a wet-behind-the-ears Hyuuga because 'it brought the two powerhouse clans closer together'. What a load of bull.

The captain narrowed his pearly white eyes at Denryoku. For three weeks he had tried to win over the two Uchiha, but they were dead set on comparing him to their last captain, who had quite the reputation at headquarters. Ibo hadn't been as bad as his teammate, less expressive definitely, but Tokuma could still feel cold enmity from the silent Uchiha. Now he didn't care and just treated the two stubborn men like he would anyone else who treated him with hostility.

“Did you check the south end?” Tokuma prompted further.

The dark haired Uchiha rolled his eyes, “Yes. And Ibo kept watch on the road. We know how to patrol, you kn-” Whatever Denryoku was about to say was cut off when a dull explosion caused the fence of Akagahara to rattle. All three police officers whirled around to stare at the plume of smoke raising from inside the fence perimeter. All traps within the restricted area were motion-sensitive and there was no wildlife stupid enough to scratch out a living in a booby-trap invested forest. That only meant that someone had somehow gotten in and were now causing a ruckus.

Great.

Chapter 19: A Little Tough Love

“Fifty more laps.” I grouched when Hinata finally finished the third set of the day. Naruto took off like someone had just told him that there was a free all you can eat ramen buffet in Kumo, with his Uzumaki lineage and the Kyuubi reserves the boy wasn't even sweating. Sasuke gave me the darkest glare he could muster as he stumbled into a run behind the blonde, still going at a relatively good pace, but Hinata was barely walking.

Rolling my eyes I grabbed the hood of the Hyuuga's jacket and pulled her back. “You meditate.” I told her and tried to make Hinata sit down, but she only shook off my hold.

“N-no… I can… do-do i-i-i-it.” She said between whooping breaths. I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn't used to this new Hinata, this was the second time she defied me. But I wasn't going to stop her, anything was better than the stuttering mess I had started with.

“Fine, but I'm not saving your ass when you faint.”

Hinata took off without another word, she was only going as a shuffling jog, but she was still trying and that had to count for something I guess. I turned to my next task and glared hotly at the Honorable Grandson, who cowered in my shadow. “P-please don't kill me...” He stuttered.

I rolled my eyes, like I would kill the Honorable Grandson of the Hokage.

Too much of a hassle to hide from the authorities.

“You, pest, are going to write a formal apology to the Konoha Police Patrol that found you and my team then write a report to the Hokage detailing what happened. And don't think about doing anything stupid, I'll read over everything before you hand the report to your grandfather personally.” To prove my point, I handed him two sheets of paper and a pen, “You only get one chance for each, otherwise you join my Team in their exercises for the rest of the week.”

Konohamaru seemed confused by that, “B-but...” He started.

“But what?”

“Bu-but Naruto-nii-san said that you couldn't do anything if we were caught. My grandfather will hear of this! Then you'll be sorry!” Apparently this brat wanted to die.

I leaned down until my face was inches from his own, “If you're stupid enough to believe that dumbass then you're more gullible than a sack of worms. And about as ugly and useless too. I don't give a damn if you're the Honorable Grandson, be glad I'm only making you write the apologies because I'm very tempted to kick your ass like I will my team's once they're good and warmed up. You want to be a ninja? Because I'll give you your first lesson for free if you want.”

Konohamaru was quick to shake his head no and sit down to begin his apology and report. I gave him a pretty poor attempt at a smile, it was more of baring my teeth, “Make sure you don't get a thing wrong. Or you'll get your free shinobi lesson anyway.” I threatened. The brat paled under his tan.

Good, about time he learned some respect.

I was probably going to get it for traumatizing the pest, but it was worth it.

Shithead.

I didn't even care that they broke the rules and entered the forbidden area, if they wanted to get killed on their own time then fine. It was the fact that they did it while on a mission babysitting the Honorable Grandson. Akagahara was one of the number one places enemy shinobi tried to infiltrate, hence why it was forbidden. Any person caught in the gated area was immediately executed without question. Team 7 and Konohamaru were extremely lucky that Denryoku had recognized Konohamaru or else they would all be dead and Patrol 18 would have been brought up on charges of killing the Hyuuga heiress, the second son of the Uchiha clan head, the Kyuubi jinchūriki and the grandson of the Third Hokage.

It was a political nightmare just to sort out fill out the paperwork on the incident. I was pissed because I had been dragged into it since I was the sensei and now was under scrutiny for 'abandoning my team' on a mission. Even though D-rank missions didn't require the presence of the sensei, since they were considered 'baby missions' no matter what the chūnin at the mission desk said. But that small little detail was conveniently forgotten when it came to the issue at hand.

I was going to strangle that prick Hyuuga for bringing me up on charges.

Even worse, the whole Uchiha clan had been brought into the mess as well as the Hyuuga and both were now up in arms over accusations against each other. For what, I really didn't care. All I knew was that months of work bringing the Uchiha clan back under the Konoha banner was ruined and we were almost back where we started when the genin graduated.

And everyone was blaming me for not keep a better eye on the trio of brats. And Team 7 had been put on probation for three weeks. No missions at all; which meant Nekobaa was not pleased because only Uchiha were allowed to handle Uchiha merchandise and the idiots that had been sent in Team 7's place lost half of the shipment. That didn't really go over well with Fugaku-sama.

I didn't mind the 'no missions' as much as everything else since I was turning that into my advantage as a way to take my ire out on them the whole team through harsh training. I was also stuck with Konohamaru, though I didn't know why. Probably so he could share in the punishment.

Well, that's what I was taking from it.

Once all three genin stopped in front of me, I immediately pointed to the ground, “Twenty push-ups, forty crunches, and thirty leg lunges. Go!” This time all genin groaned and literally dropped to the ground. I kicked dirt at them, “DO IT!” I roared and ignored their hisses of pain when the dirt got in their eyes.

I did not give a shit what they felt. If they were stupid enough to think 'forbidden' didn't apply to them, then they can suffer a little grit in the face.

Arrogant assholes.

“Konohamaru, join them!” I shouted, turning to the startled boy. He stared at me for a good minute before I pointed at the paper, “That character is written wrong. Twenty push-ups, forty crunches and thirty leg lunges, now.”

“What?! But-”

“NOW! Do not ever question your superior officer. Now put your head down and start!” I snapped harshly, snatching the papers from his hands. I began walking away, crumbling the paper into a ball, when I heard a quiet sob from the boy. I whirled around, “Oh, are you going to cry? Did I upset you? If you're too much of a crybaby then maybe you should just forget about being a ninja, let alone Hokage.” I mocked with a harsh sneer. Large tears were flowing down Konohamaru's eyes now. He was truly crying like the brat he was.

I grabbed him by his ridiculous scarf and shoved him to the ground, “Stop whining, you pathetic little rat.”

“Hey! Leave him alone.”

My head snapped around to glare at Naruto. Sasuke and Hinata had paused in their push-ups and were watching me, but only Naruto was standing and glaring at me. “Did I say stop? Start over–thirty push-ups, fifty crunches, and forty leg lunges.”

Naruto's bright eyes glittered, “What do you want? Are you so cruel that you need to make little kids cry so you feel better? Why, you're nothing but a bully!”

“A bully, huh?” I mused, pulling my fury behind the Uchiha clan's standard emotionless 'I-don't-give-a-shit' mask. “Everyone stand up.” Konohamaru jumped up quickly, rubbing an arm across his messy face, and latched onto Naruto like a leech. Sasuke and Hinata stood up more slowly, but they were giving me glares that were almost on par with Naruto's.

I stared down at them for a long time, taking in each of the child's face. Team 7 were scowling back at me, they were used to me enough that they felt they could get away with it. Konohamaru was sobbing quietly into Naruto's side while Naruto had an arm around him like he was protecting him from me. These four were only kids; kids who broke the rules and almost got killed for it. They needed to know that some rules weren't even allowed to bend without dire consequences.

But…

Somewhere deep down I knew that my harsh treatment was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. I was at a loss of what to do. The only way I could make them truly understand that what they did was not okay was to push them until they broke.

No that wasn't right.

I was taking my anger out on them, I wasn't even trying to teach them. For all they knew they were only suffering through my harsh torture because I felt like it. Because I had finally gone off the deep end.

“Do you know why I'm making you do all this?” I asked, more calmly now that I had time to ponder over my actions.

Naruto, however, hadn't calmed down one bit, “Because you hate us and you get a sick joy outta watching us suffer, `ttebayo!”

I glanced at Sasuke and Hinata to see if they agreed, the sad thing was that they did. Even quiet Hinata was turning rebellious, though after the hell I put her through I wasn't very surprised.

“And if I did, what would you do about it?” I prompted, folding my hands behind my back and waited for them to answer. For the longest time all of them were stumped. Even Konohamaru stopped his crying to peek at Team 7. I think they expected me to defend myself and say I didn't hate them at all, but it was all for their own good.

Or some gooey shit like that.

I didn't let them answer, “Some shinobi are batshit insane, and they might possibly be one of the most loyal ninjas you'd find in the village. There are nuke-nin that are mild mannered; but they betrayed your village's trust, so you still are expected capture them or kill them if you can't. I thought you already realized that no one can be defined as just being good and bad.” Naruto and Sasuke winced, most likely thinking of Haku.

Hinata was still warming up to her new found backbone, “That doesn't give you the right to push around like you do.” She stated in a calm clear voice one would expect from a Hyuuga.

Tilting my head I studied the heiress. Two months had passed under my tutelage and already she was more outspoken than probably ever. She wasn't even stuttering at the moment.

“No it doesn't, but again, what can you do? Go whine to your father or the Hokage? You're stuck with me, Hyuuga, like it or not.”

“It isn't right!” That was Naruto.

“You're right.” I think I just broke all four of their puny brains when I agreed so readily with the dumbass. I scoffed a little, “But then, when is anything we do right? I thought we discussed this, Naruto, back in Wave. It's all a matter of perspective.”

“Since when is beating little kids a matter of perspective?!” Sasuke snapped. Inwardly I laughed at the way Team 7 was ganging up on their sensei.

“Did I touch any of you with the intent to hurt?”

“Don't play your stupid mind games, Yanagi, you know what I meant.”

My eyes narrowed at the blatant sign of disrespect. Defending a child, I could understand. Standing up for oneself, sure go for it. That was always amusing. Disrespect in any form, even during an argument?

You've got five seconds to get the hell out of dodge before I tear you a new one.

“I'm not playing games. It's an honest question. Did I hurt any of you, physically?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm now. One more word out of my cousin's mouth and he would suddenly have proof that I was beating little kids like he claimed.

“You hurt-”

I cut Sasuke off before he could continue, “I didn't touch Konohamaru, I grabbed his scarf. Try again.” Any ninja worth their salt knew how to hurt someone without ever touching them.

Before any of them could say another word I tossed four blank scrolls on the ground at their feet, “Training is done. I want all of you to write a full length formal apology to the Patrol that caught you in Akagahara. No copying from anyone else. Go.” I started to walk away, having my own work to fill out.

“Why?”

I didn't care who said it, but it stopped me in my tracks. Why? WHY?! Did they really not understand exactly what could of happened? Slowly I turned back around, my expression not angry as they clearly expected but concern, “Do any of you know why Akagahara is a forbidden area?” I asked slowly.

Four 'no's.

I facepalmed. I couldn't help it, in all my life I never met a group more dense than these idiots. Not even Obito could compete with one of them! “Okay sit down, you're getting another lesson.”

They all remained standing, which was fine by me. “Akagahara is on the border of Konoha, it abuts Training Grounds 44 and 45, which are the furthest training grounds from Konoha. It's also the easier area to navigate through. Guess what that means?”

Sasuke looked like he knew the answer, if his frequent paling was anything to go by. But of course that could be the fatigue catching up with him too. It was a 50/50 chance of being either.

“That means that Akagahara, during the war, was the most common way for intruders to enter into Konoha's surrounding forest. Once enemies got past Akagahara it was a cakewalk to Konohagakure.” Now the rest of the team were turning white. Konohamaru still didn't get it, dammit.

I focused my gaze on the littlest brat, “Akagahara is still the used by enemies to get into our village.” I explained slowly so his childish mind could grasp the concept.

“So? Naruto-nii-san and his friend could take them.” Boy, talk about blind hero worship. My eyebrow twitched, this kid really wasn't getting it. I don't think any of the brats really got the grave circumstance they were in, truly.

I sighed, “Look, because Konoha knows that Akagahara is the easiest way to get in, we put a fence up and made it forbidden, as well as stationed a permanent patrol for the police force. That patrol has orders to kill anything that moves in Akagahara.” I said flatly. There was no sense in sugar-coating it for an idiot as dense as the Hokage's grandson.

Now Konohamaru was joining his 'friends' in utter horror. And that wasn't even the best part.

“The reason why I'm making you write the apology to Patrol 18 is because if Uchiha Denryoku didn't recognize the Honorable Grandson, all of you would be dead. You four are some of the most politically sensitive brats in Konoha; can you imagine what Patrol 18 would be facing if they had killed you? The Hyuuga and Uchiha clans would be calling for blood, it might even boil into a clan war between the two. The Hokage wouldn't be any help as he would be biased over losing Konohamaru and Naruto. Many of the jounin, and even the Council of Elders, would be up in arms over Naruto's death as well.” For all the wrong reasons, but I wasn't about to tell an emotionally neglected child that, “Hell, in a worst case scenario the whole village would probably melt down into total chaos, which would then prompt another Hidden Village to attack and might start another Shinobi War.”

Silence reigned down on the brats as I let the new information sink in, they were finally understanding what exactly could have happened.

Hinata bent down and picked up one of the blank scrolls. She stared at it for a good minute before tucking it in her weapons pouch and turned to look at me, “I'll give my apology to you in the morning, Yanagi-sensei.” She said calmly before leaving. If it wasn't for that ridiculous boyish haircut, I'd say that another Hyuuga was impersonating her; but Hinata was the only Hyuuga with that styled hair so it was impossible.

No one was desperate enough to act like Hinata to actually cut their hair like that.

Sasuke was the next one to pick up the scroll. He glared at the innocent roll of paper then at me and walked away without saying a word.

Naruto picked up both his and Konohamaru's, “Is that true? What you said about the jounin and stuff?” He almost sounded scared, as if I would say no just to laugh at him.

Dammit I was hoping he wouldn't ask that, “Yes.” Let him come to his own false conclusion that they actually cared for him as a person and not the ultimate weapon of the village. I wasn't going to be the one to break his heart. I was an unpleasant woman, hell even I'd readily admit to being a bitch; but I wasn't inhuman.

I left without another word.

vvv

“Thought I'd find you here.” Someone said behind me. I grunted and poured myself another helping of Awamori. If I remembered correctly the person talking was normally more cheerful and I wasn't supposed to talk to him.

Well screw it, I talk to who I want.

Shisui sat down beside me and pulled the bottle of Awamori towards him to read the label, “Thirty-eight percent alcohol? Wow you must be depressed this time.” I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Shu'up.” I slurred angrily and tried to yank the bottle out of his grasp, but only succeeded in nearly toppling off the bar stool. If Shisui hadn't reached out with his free hand and grabbed my elbow I'd be on the floor.

“I think you've had enough tonight. Time to go home.” He said and gently pried the alcohol dish from my fingers before setting it down. As Shisui stood, I just continued to stare at the remaining liquid in the glass. It looked so graceful, swirling slowly in the shallow dish as the light directly above reflected off of it.

“`M a 'orrible sen'ei, ain't I?” I whispered.

Shisui didn't immediately answer as he slowly eased me up on his back. I took his silence to be a 'yes'. I was the worst sensei on earth, that scum that Nii-san always talked about. I could blame my team and Konohamaru all I wanted, but in reality I was the only person to blame. If I was a better teacher I would have warned the kids why that place was avoided, and I sure as hell wouldn't traumatize them when I was told about it.

Shisui tsked and readjusted his grip on my legs as he walked out of the seedy bar he had found me in. Apparently I had been thinking out loud, “You're not the best sensei out there, but I wouldn't write you off as scum yet, Yanagi-chan. And how were you to know those kids were foolish enough to go to Akagahara?” Damn man. Why was he always so cheerful and optimistic?!

Stupid Shisui and his stupid reasoning. I pressed my cheek into the back of his shirt and pouted. Why was it stupid Shisui that found me? Why couldn't it be some other officer that I didn't know who wouldn't try to give me a stupid pep talk as he brought me home?

“You smell.” I mumbled after a pregnant pause.

This time Shisui laughed softly. I couldn't help but smile a little at his chuckle. That's just how it was; whenever Shisui laughed people couldn't help but smile or laugh with him. It was almost like his laughter was a spell for happiness. “You're one to talk, Yagi.” He returned.

I pouted again, “…Di'nt say it was bad.” Shisui always smelled like freshly turned earth and crushed grass with only the faintest undertone of metal. The scent brought up memories of long past summers spent sprawling on the ground after hours of sparring together. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine us being silly teenagers again, and Shisui was carrying me home because I was tired from a day of endless spars and not because I was intoxicated.

But that was before the drama of the Uchiha coup, and when I opened my eyes that perfect rosy scene faded back into harsh reality. My already depressed mood sunk even lower and I almost felt like crying.

Shisui seemed to pick up on my mood, “Is Yagi-chan complimenting me?! The world must be ending!” He said in a dramatic flair. It was a desperate attempt to take my mind off of other things. Sadly it didn't work.

“Shaddap, Eyelashes.” I said in all seriousness, though I did appreciate that he was trying to cheer me up.

“I haven't heard that nickname in forever. You must really be drunk.” The only other curly haired Uchiha commented.

I didn't respond immediately. I was thinking the circumstances over and I wasn't liking the conclusion I was coming to, “How much trouble am I in?” I finally asked, resigning myself to my fate. I knew from the second I first forced Team 7 into that harsh training that there would be repercussions. Really bad ones at that.

Shisui turned serious, only further proving that I was in deep shit. If Shisui was serious then I was definitely in trouble, otherwise he would try to reassure me that everything was alright and I was just being ridiculous.

“Not all that good. Fugaku-sama and Hyuuga-sama are definitely not pleased, and neither is the Hokage.” Shisui relayed calmly. I simply laid my forehead against his shoulder. I saw that one coming by a mile. But oh did it get worse, “What with you having not been with your team when they were caught in Akagahara and now this… Hyuuga-sama is calling for your permanent resignation from the shinobi forces.”

That managed to get through my foggy brain. I jerked my head back in surprise and immediately regretted it when the pounding headache cropped up in retaliation. “Wha-?! He can't do that!” I snapped, my words clear and forceful. Only the Hokage or my clan leader could force my resignation.

Shisui hefted me up further on his back and gave me a look over his shoulder for nearly waking up the neighborhood, “That's what Fugaku-sama said and the Hokage agreed; which is why you have an appointment with Yamanaka Asao tomorrow morning at ten.”

I groaned and dropped my head back onto Shisui's shoulder. Yamanaka Asao, or as I called him Ass-ao, was the Uchiha clan's personal therapist. Every clan had their own Yamanaka therapist who was informed of almost every clan secret to avoid having said secrets accidentally leaking out during a session.

Our Yamanaka had a standing appointment with any Uchiha that activated their sharingan; so he could make sure that the stupid Curse of Hatred didn't crop up. Only Itachi and Shisui were exempt because of they were exceptions to every single Uchiha cliché known, the lucky bastards. Hell, even Kakashi had to visit Asao because of his borrowed sharingan.

Asao, on top of his normal duties as a therapist, was also the clan's standard medic because Uchiha's were utterly hopeless when it came to medical ninjutsu; I was considered the best in the clan at medical ninjutsu and to any other medic I was considered utterly hopeless. Most clansmen found their own medic though.

Because Yamanaka Ass-ao also happened to be one vindictive little shit.

“If Asao-san diagnosis you as mentally unstable than Fugaku-sama will demote you to being a secretary in the police force and the Hokage will assign another jounin to your team.” Shisui added, almost sounding regretful. I didn't blame him, I could handle losing my team, maybe, but secretary?!

I'd rather walk into Kumo and offer to be their Sharingan breeding cow.

“Jus kill me now.” I grumbled into Shisui's shirt. Like I said, Asao was a vindictive asshole and he found fault in every Uchiha. When asked if the Nidaime or Ass-ao was more spiteful towards the Uchiha clan, Asao would win hand down every time. I wouldn't put it past that worm to say I was mentally ill just so there would be 'one less Uchiha on active duty'.

Shisui gave an exasperated sigh, “Asao wouldn't do that.”

I must have been talking out loud again. Stupid drunkenness. “Like you know. You don' `isit Asao, you don' know what he like.”

My escort home, if you could call him that, stayed silent for a good while before asking in a resigned voice, “Want me to come with you tomorrow?” Why'd he have to sound so reluctant? I wasn't that bad, was I? Maybe to my team but I just normally ignored Shisui, wasn't like he ever minded or nothing.

“Naw, I won' like ya to'arrow.”

“Oh, but you like me now?”

“…Shu'up and ge' me home.” I said, blatantly avoiding the question. Shisui was my friend tonight. Tomorrow, he would be that goofy idiot that I ignored. Shisui laughed and laughed at my response though, and that made me feel just a bit better.

vvv

Nii-san was pounding on the bathroom door, “Yanagi! Get your ass in gear, your appointment is in ten minutes!” Hypocrite. It was perfectly fine for him to be late five hours, but kami forbid that I be late by a second.

“Like that ass Asao would fail me if I was a minute late.” I snapped back as I tried to pull my rebellious hair up in it's standard high ponytail. Unfortunately I had made the mistake of going to bed with it still wet from my shower last night–forced by Nii-san because he 'wasn't going to have the house reek of alcohol'–and that meant my hair was ten times as unruly than normal. Baring my teeth at my reflection in frustration I dropped my arms and let the dark brown coils fall loosely down my back. It wasn't like I was going to be doing anything today that required my hair being up. The meeting with the Yamanaka would take up most of the day and then there was nothing until the evening; Mikoto-oba had invited Obito and I to have dinner and she had strongly suggested that we be there.

When Mikoto suggested anything, you had better do it or you'd discover the reason why she had been called the Terror of Genyo Pass in the Third War.

Giving up on my hair I stormed out of the bathroom, past my brother, and grabbed my sunglasses. “See you tonight, and you better not be late this time. I'm not making any excuse, you can just try to explain it to our aunt yourself.” I threatened as I headed for the door. Obito followed behind me, absently reassuring me as he flopped down on the living room couch with his daily dose of porn in hand.

Disgusting.

Even with the sunglasses on, my eyes still watered at the brightness of the outside world. I wasn't as hungover as I thought I'd be, but it was still enough to feel the symptoms. Luckily, as a kunoichi, being hungover wasn't as bad as to what a civilian might feel. With the amount of alcohol I had consumed last night, a civilian might be in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Instead, due to chakra boosting a ninja's metabolism to a much higher rate than average, I was only mildly hungover. It was both a blessing and a curse. Shinobi had no problem sliding back into the swing of things the next day, even if they had passed out the night before; however it took them much longer to get inebriated.

As soon as my eyesight cleared I turned straight around and stalked back into the house, “Nii-san! What is that… thing doing out there?!” I yelled at my brother.

Shisui poked his head in the doorway, “Thing? I'm hurt, Yagi-chan.” I glowered at him. If the door didn't swing outward I would have tried to slam it closed on his head.

My brother chortled quite evilly, “My kohai offered to escort you. He said you expressed to being worried about Asao last night when he brought you home. Just have her at the Main House by six, Shisui-kun.”

“Can do, senpai!” Shisui chirped, giving my treacherous older brother a two fingered salute.

“Wha-?!” I squawked, but didn't get to finish as Shisui grabbed me by the waist and physically dragged me out of my own home. The last thing I heard was Obito yelling at me to let go of the door frame before I broke it.

I nearly fell over, disoriented and confused at the sudden change in footing. A hand reached out to steady me but I swatted it away with a vengeance and took a step back to find my balance. I gave the very smug looking Shisui my best stink eye for that stunt he had just pulled. Stupid shunshin master, I hadn't even felt him build up chakra! That was just being too good at your favorite jutsu if you asked me.

Shisui's smug smile turned into a pout, “I thought we were over all this, Yagi-chan.” He said and turned those damn puppy eyes of his on me. I glared back; being a master of that look myself I was immune to it. And when the hell did he get that notion anyway? I was flat out drunk last night, and drunk people do stupid things they normally wouldn't do.

Like talking to someone whom you've sworn never to speak to again for the rest of eternity.

Instead of answering, I turned on my heel and stormed away. I only got maybe three feet before Shisui caught up to me with his longer stride, “Oi oi oi, ya know the word 'escort' normally means that they're walking with you, right?” I simply gave him the universal one finger sign of 'go away'.

Like always, Shisui didn't react, he only shrugged it off with a grin. There had only been three instances when I had truly pissed Shisui off. Once was when I confronted him about the reason for which I now ignore him, another was when I bashed a criminal records book over his head, and the third was only last year when I had tossed one of Nekobaa's cats at his face.

Shisui is allergic to cats.

Thankfully Shisui seemed to understand that we were back to Square One in which I ignored him no matter what he said or did. For several minutes we walked causally in blissful silence. Well, I stalked down the streets, with a look on my face that made bystanders scramble to get out of my way; and he just strolled in the wake I left.

“I like your hair down like that.”

Damn it.

vvv 3rd Person~ Sasuke vvv

“Hey where's Frizzy-sensei?” Naruto asked, sitting up from where he had been lounging on the ground.

Sasuke gave his dumbest teammate a look, “She hasn't arrived yet.” Mentally the Uchiha hoped she never arrived. Hopefully the meeting that Tou-san had gone to late last night was so that Yanagi was removed from being their sensei.

“But, it's been four hours since she told us to meet here, and Sensei is never late.” Naruto knew that for a fact. He had once staked out their training grounds for the night, determined to beat Yanagi at the internal, unspoken 'get there before Sensei does' game Team 7 seemed to have. Somehow she must have realized what he was doing, because she had stayed there that night just so Naruto couldn't show her up.

Stupid Yanagi-sensei and her overzealous competitiveness.

“So what?”

“So… don't you think it's weird that the Time Machine Jounin is late?” Sasuke honestly didn't know how Naruto came up with the variety of nicknames he had for their sensei. And Sasuke definitely didn't want to know about the nicknames the dobe had for him.

“She probably got demoted and taken off the team. Tou-san had a late night meeting with the Hokage after I told him what happened yesterday.”

“T-t-that's right… M-m-my O-Otou-sama did the s-s-same.” Hinata added. Both males glanced at their stuttering teammate, each with their own levels of concern. Ever since the Wave mission they had noticed that Hinata's stutter had decreased, almost to the point that she didn't stutter at all unless talking to Naruto– though only Sasuke noticed that part. After yesterday's torture lesson, Hinata likely had regressed back into her old habits.

Naruto turned back to the matter at hand, “Yeah, and where is Konohamaru anyway? He's supposed to be with us.” The blonde's blue eyes widened in fear and he leaned in, “You don't think… she killed him, do you?”

Sasuke sighed in exasperation and hung his head. If Naruto kept his stupid rumor mongering, every child in Konoha would think his cousin was some kind of monster that hid under the bed and ate little kids for dessert. Konohamaru's classmates already thought that Yanagi was some kind of vampire; Sasuke had heard his younger relatives talking about how to 'excise' her.

Before Sasuke could find the patience to answer his lummox of a teammate, someone else did. “While I wouldn't put it past her, Yanagi-chan has more finesse than that. You'd never be able to pin it on her, at the very least.”

All of Team 7 looked high up in Yanagi's favorite tree, past her normal branch, where a grey haired masked man lounged, his nose in a small orange book that both Sasuke and Hinata recognized and dreaded immensely. Sasuke recognized him as one of Obito's teammates.

“Eh?! Who are you?!” Naruto shouted and rudely pointed up at the older man.

The stranger turned to look at the three genin and his only visible eye tilted in an odd way so that it gave the impression that he was smiling, “I'm your sensei for the day, while Yanagi is out… sick.”

“Well you're late! Frizzy-sensei said never to be late!”

“Maa… a black cat crossed my path so I had to take the long way around.”

vvv Normal POV vvv

Asao hummed as he pretended to scribbled some shitty notes down. I had a suspicion that he was just doodling. He didn't stop 'writing' even when I had stopped talking for several minutes. I already knew that the little worm wasn't listening to me. For almost ten minutes I had called him every insult under the moon and he didn't so much as twitch.

Being a relatively regular patient of his, I knew that Asao was not that thick-skinned.

“And how would you say that makes you feel?” He questioned in that stupid condescending 'I'm the doctor here and you're the nutty patient' voice he always used. Even when he wasn't on duty. I had the misfortune of running into the asshole when I was taking a message to Yamanaka Inoichi, that was just his default tone.

It was so nauseating I wanted to throw up.

“Like I wanna strangle something.” I said dryly and looked out the ridiculously small window, which also happened to be barred. Nothing like having to talk about your repressed feelings in a room that felt like it was a refurbished prison cell.

And honestly, they could have just left the cell like it was, since the 'redesign' sucked.

Ass-ao's sandy head whipped up from his notepad and he pinned me with a look, “Are you feeling violent now, Uchiha-san?”

Oh please, that he heard?! Now I was sure he was just waiting for me to say some shit like that so he could write me off as mentally unstable.

Like I said: vindictive asshole.

“No. I'm feeling oddly calm, like I've just had a spiritual purge of all the negative energy within my system. Please, O Great Guru of the Mystic Beings, continue your instructions so that I may become one with the universe like you.” Finally I got a twitch from the pompous bastard.

“Sarcasm doesn't become you.”

“Oi! I'm the queen of sarcasm, don't insult me!”

“I thought you were the Blackmail Queen.”

“Well a queen can have two titles, dipshit.”

“Do you see yourself as a queen? Do you have feelings of superiority over others?”

I threw my head back with a great groan. Trust a Yamanaka to turn a simple sentence into some insight on a damn nonexistent mental disorder. I'd hate to be a Yamanaka, it would get very old very quickly if I felt the need to psychoanalysis every word said to me.

“I'm a damn Uchiha, of course I have a superiority complex; because it sure as hell isn't an inferiority complex.” I snapped back. It seemed that every Uchiha suffered through one of the two mental states to some degree. They either felt like they were a gift from Kami or that they were worthless trash that no one cared about. Unless you were balanced people like Itachi and Shisui.

“Do you feel superior to me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?”

There was a moment of silence then: “…No. Let's move on.”

Thought so, jackass.

vvv 3rd Person vvv

“Man, this new sensei sucks! He just gave us some stupid missions and followed us around all day reading! He didn't even try to teach us anything!” Naruto complained as Team 7 left the Missions Desk Office at the end of their day.

“You'd rather run around a training field all day with our psychotic old sensei trying to emotionally break us every second?” Sasuke asked sarcastically. He didn't like the new sensei either, Kakashi he had learned, but he was still loads better than Yanagi-sensei.

Naruto squinted at the mention of yesterday, “Well, no. But Frizzy-sensei normally isn't so… uh… evil. She's kinda funny when she's not yelling at us.”

Behind the two boys Hinata nodded, though neither saw it.

“When isn't she yelling at us?”

“When she's yelling at someone else,” Naruto returned quickly. He paused for a moment then added in a mischievous tone, “her nicknames are really funny actually… Duckass.”

Sasuke shot his stupid teammate a dark look, “Her nicknames are not amusing at all, they're insulting.” He stated firmly.

“Oh come on! Don't tell me you weren't a little amused by 'Peach-boy'! Calling someone as strong as Zabuza that is just hilarious.”

“I'm surprised you even know that word.”

“Oi!”

“G-g-guys, let's not f-f-f-fight.” Hinata interjected before either boy could warm up to the argument that was starting. When the team was first formed, Yanagi-sensei had given the job of maintaining order to Hinata; and she was just finally starting to be confident enough to try and mediate between Naruto and Sasuke's fights.

Both boys glanced back at their shy teammate and then at each other. Though neither would admit it, they were both in agreement that they had to watch out for Hinata since she was so shy and fragile. She didn't know it, but she could probably order them to do almost anything and they would do it without complaining because it was Hinata. They felt the need to protect her from everything; from chaotic cats to their insane sensei.

“Training?” Naruto prompted, changing the subject. Yanagi-sensei had beat into them pretty early on that they had better train sometimes in their downtime, or training with her would be utter hell.

And they had already gotten a taste of Utter Hell; there was no reason to try and seek it out.

Sasuke shook his head, “Kaa-chan wants me home before dinner. Something about someone having dinner with the family.” He explained. In reality he'd rather train with Naruto. They had actually been a decent team on the Wave bridge and he wanted to see if they could hone their skill.

Hinata hesitated, not liking being put on the spot. She would love to train with Naruto, but she was concerned that she might faint if it were just Naruto and herself. “I-I can… but only for a h-hour, N-Naruto-kun.” She finally decided. She didn't think she would be any help, but Naruto seemed to think otherwise.

He brightened, “Great! You can help me with that silent technique Frizzy-sensei taught you! Come on!” And with that Naruto grabbed the bright red Hinata and practically dragged her away. Sasuke watched amused and feeling only slight pity for Hinata. His female teammate was in no condition prepared to deal with the hyperactivity that Naruto consistently exuded; but if she was determined to keep that crush of hers, she might as well learn how to deal with it.

vvv Normal POV vvv

“Well look at the bright side, Yagi-chan…” Shisui tried to cheer me up as we walked back to the Uchiha Compound, “Asao-san didn't say you were mentally unstable.”

I crossed my arms with a scowl. Ass-ao might have cleared me of being batshit insane, but he did diagnose me as emotionally repressed, with a superior complex in general, anger management issues, and a plethora of tragic memories that possibly lead to all of said conditions. I was suspended for three weeks to see professionals to take care of my issues; and if I failed to show to the people that Asao recommended I'd be suspended indefinitely until I did see them.

Although the anger management issue came from when I threw a chair at the bastard's face for bringing up Obito's temporary KIA status during the Third War.

Really, he was asking for that one though.

“Ah well. Here we are, Yagi-chan, I delivered you safely to the Main House!” What do you want, a medal? “I had fun today, Yagi-chan. We should do this more often… though it's better when your drunk.” Shisui added teasingly. I tried to punch him, I really did, but he seemed to know exactly what I was going to do for he utilized the shunshin jutsu to get away and my fist went through the air where his gut had been.

Piss ant.

I glared at the spot where Shisui had been standing, as if it had somehow betrayed me by not holding the man there for a second longer, before stalking inside. I never bothered knocking since the only one who really cared was Fugaku and I didn't give a shit what he thought anyway.

“Mikoto-oba, I'm here!” I called as I sat down to take off my sandals.

Instead of my aunt answering there was the pounding of someone running towards the entrance than Sasuke shouted, “What are you doing here?”

I turned to give my student and youngest cousin a flat look. But before I could give a snappy comeback his mother came to greet me, “Oh good! Obito-kun is already here, now we can eat. Come, Yanagi, I made Nikujaga just for you.”

Okay I had my suspicions before, but now I was certain that this whole thing was a set up. My aunt never made Nikujaga because Sasuke hated sweet foods. The only time she did make it was when the family was at odds and she had been forced to play the mediator; most often between her husband and Obito or I.

No wonder Shisui didn't try to mooch a meal off of Mikoto like he normally did. He knew what was going on, the traitor.

vvv

Silence reigned supreme over the whole meal. The only people who weren't giving me dirty looks throughout dinner was Mikoto-oba and Obito, though Nii-san looked like he was constantly on the verge of laughing. At least Mikoto-oba had the decency not to bring drama to the table.

Unlike a few people I knew of.

I was the last one to finish, mostly because I was stalling for time, and as soon as I laid down my chopsticks Fugaku-sama was standing, “Yanagi, come with me.” He ordered.

I exhaled a long sigh and looked at my brother sitting across from me. Obito had his silly grin on and was cheerfully waving good-bye when I looked at him. Then he stood and gathered his and Sasuke's dishes, “Mikoto-oba, let me help you.” Oh so he'd help Mikoto do the dishes, but left me to do all the chores at home. Jackass.

“Yanagi.” Fugaku snapped when I was taking too long.

“Alright alright! Don't have a cow, I'm coming.” I said defensively as I stood up and stalked after my uncle to the common meeting room.

The common meeting room opened to the outside and was closer to the living quarters of the Main House, thus making it easier to spy on. It was where most public discussions took place, or official reprimands. The private meeting room, located under the Naka shrine, was only used for serious issues; like excommunications from the clan, planning coup d'états, and–in the past when Konoha was first founded–executions.

I wasn't really surprised to find four of the eight clan Elders all sitting in a semi-circle. Fugaku waited until I was inside the room before shutting the door with an audible snap and taking his place at the apex of the arc. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes as I bowed to the Elders and knelt down on the uncomfortable tatami mats. No soft pillow for me, the jerks.

“Your condition?” The furthermost Elder sitting to the right questioned. If I remember correctly, her name was Sayako and she was not only the oldest Uchiha, but one of the oldest individuals in the village. She also happened to have a soft spot for my brother, as did most of the elderly.

I leaned over in a bow, placing my hands flat against the ground and lowered my head until my forehead brushed the tatami mat, “Honorable Elders, Clan leader… I reported to Yamanaka Asao as ordered. He has deemed me to be mentally sound, however…” At that everyone tensed. “I am to report for professional help for the next three weeks on account of anger issues and repressed emotions.”

I think I heard one of the more crotchety old coots mutter something about not being all that surprised, but I couldn't tell.

Fugaku gestured for me to continue. I sat up and placed my palms flat against my thighs, “I have been cleared to resume normal duty as soon as my three weeks of suspension are up.”

My uncle dipped his head and turned to the Elders, “Then the issue is solved.” He said in that flat tone he used when addressing the Elders. Fugaku and I didn't get along at all. We disagreed on almost everything; but one of the sparingly few times we did agree on something was that the Elders were just a bunch of bored busybodies who had nothing better to do than to bother the clan leader about trivial things.

Hibiki, a particularly nasty Elder, sputtered, “Just like that?! This gaki has nearly mentally traumatized one of our most promising genin of this generation and she gets away with a slap on the wrist?!” Funny how he made it clear that he didn't care for Sasuke as a person, just a tool to better the Uchiha clan.

“It was by the order of the Hokage that Uchiha Yanagi be able to continue as a sensei if she were to pass the mental examination.” Fugaku said. There was a rustling of unease that clearly stated exactly what the Elders thought of their Hokage. I breathed deeply through my nose and made sure not to stiffen up. Unrest among the Elders meant that it would soon leak out into the rest of the clan, which could possibly lead to another coup.

Sayako grumbled as she climbed to her feet, leaning heavily on her walking cane. The Elder beside her and Fugaku both jolted as if to assist her, but the spry old woman was already on her feet. “The issue is closed, as Fugaku-sama said. Complaining about it won't change a thing. I'm going to bed!” And with that the old woman hobbled past me and out the door.

We could all still hear her go from an ornery badger to a cooing grandmotherly figure. Most likely that meant that Obito was out there eavesdropping; in fact I would bet that everyone except Itachi, who would have found a much better hiding spot, was just standing outside the sliding doors.

Leave it to my brother to turn the woman said to have intimidated all Hokage from the Shodaime to the Yondaime to turn into a mushy old granny.

#Script's Archives #sensei fanfic #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction

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