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nctsworld · 3 years

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gifts galore

✩‌ jaehyun ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ ‌smut‌ ‌|‌ fluff | ‌2.3k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you and jaehyun agree to not exchange any gifts this christmas, yet both of you break your agreement for the better. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut,‌ costume/roleplaying (sexy mrs. claus outfit), playful dirty talk, unprotected s*x, f*ngering, couch s*x, mentions of alcohol/drinking, established relationship ‌ ‌ RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature

⇾‌ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Snuggling underneath a blanket on the couch by the crackling fireplace, you and Jaehyun are casually watching a Christmas movie in your new apartment. His hand listlessly switches between playing with your hair and lovingly rubbing your shoulder.

You beam happily, absolutely content about your updated living situation and being with your one and only on Christmas Eve, and soon to be Christmas in half an hour or so.

Breaking apart from his arms momentarily, you sit up to reach the coffee table. You refill your empty glass with wine. Noticing the one beside it is empty too, you pour a splash in, assuming the owner will want some more.

“Thanks, babe,” Jaehyun coos, his fingers brushing over the bottom of your back.

You’ve known each other long enough to know what the other wants without exchanging a word. Needless to say, you and Jaehyun were a perfect fit on every level. You couldn’t ask for anything more from him.

Taking a sip, you gaze over at the little Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room and pout at the sight of the empty space surrounding it.

Because you two spent so much on the new place, money was tighter than usual, so you mutually agreed to not exchange any gifts this year. It hurt you so much since you loved seeing Jaehyun’s face light up brighter than Christmas lights when he unwrapped his presents.

Despite the agreement, you may have had one small gift hidden up your sleeve.

You check your phone for the time. 11:48 PM reflects back at you. With a sly nibble of your lip, you rest your drink back onto the table and snuggle once more with your beloved for another several minutes.

At the stroke of midnight (which you know from constantly checking your phone), you glance upwards.

“Merry Christmas, Jaehyun,” you whisper softly. His rosy cheeks rise and his dimples show; the smile he gives you meets his starry eyes.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

He cranes his neck to capture your lips, delving into a sweet embrace. Your hand lays on his firm chest while he rests his palm atop your cheek. Parting the kiss, you’re both forehead to forehead, sharing this moment amidst the warm atmosphere. However, without a word, you depart from his body and bolt towards the bedroom. Jaehyun’s left on the couch with ruffled eyebrows.

As he opens his mouth to say something, you call out from the bedroom. “I know we said no gifts this year, but I sorta maybe have a teeny, tiny gift this year...”

He chides you with a holler of your name. “I thought we both agreed—”

“You know I can’t help myself, okay? And anyway—”

Jaehyun’s jaw immediately drops.

You’re leaning on the doorframe with your hand stretched on the wood beside your head, donning a fitting, strapless red dress with white fleece trimming at the top and bottom, which barely covers your uncovered goods, and a Santa hat as the cherry on top.

“I thought you’d like this,” you shrug, feigning innocence. Looking off to one side, you twirl some hair around your finger. “It was cheap, so it’s not like a big gift—”

Suddenly, Jaehyun’s lips cut you off. His body presses up against yours, barring you between the doorframe and himself. A hand snakes up your thigh and, with a little help from the lack of fabric, his hand quickly grasps your bare ass.

His kisses are eager and hungry, and when he desires more of you, he captures your neck. Your eyelids tremble, head leaning back on the doorframe.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything, you know,” Jaehyun mumbles into your skin. He’s now moved onto your exposed shoulders, but never forgetting to squeeze your ass throughout. “Not that I’m complaining...”

“Do you like it?” you moan aloud as Jaehyun leaves chaste kisses across the top of your chest. You already foresee the answer from his reactions, but you yearn to hear it explicitly. He brings his face up to you once more.

“Of course.” And his lips find a home upon yours again. The pressure against your hips strengthens and you’re certain he’s about to reward you with an emerging present of his own.

“Now, Mrs. Claus...” he says in between kisses. Light giggles let loose from you.

“Have I been on the naughty or nice list this year?” You inhale his question with his forehead against yours.

“Definitely naughty.”

He cocks his head to the side and his fingers dance away from your ass towards the front of your thighs.

“How can I prove to you that I’ve been a good boy?”

Said fingers are now being dragged along your thigh, upward to your arousal. Your breaths become shallower, thoughts melting fast from his touch, but you hone your focus, wanting to make this a proper gift for Jaehyun.

“I can think of a few ways…”

Hurriedly, you take his wrist and lead him back to the couch. You playfully push him by the chest to sit down. Your seated love feasts his eyes on you taking your time to straddle him.

For the longest time, your lips intertwine deeply, as if your lips are soldered together. Hands flounder over every part of your body, only intensifying the craving for you both. Exhausted from kissing, Jaehyun draws back and strips off his shirt with ease, perspired from both the passion and the fireplace.

Rising yourself off his thighs to devour his neck, your burning desire hangs overhead his own. Taking the opportunity, he slides a digit over it and you sigh into his touch.

“I don’t think Mr. Claus would appreciate you touching what’s his,” you tease, nibbling on his ear lobe with your hands resting on his chest.

“You’re mine, and you know it,” he growls half-seriously. Without warning, Jaehyun swiftly releases his touch to grip onto your ass and waist, then lays you on your backside onto the couch. He hovers over you with fierce eyes and directly sticks two fingers into you.

Your hat drops over the arm rest and onto the floor as your back arches from the immediate delight. Ardently, Jaehyun’s free hand pulls down the top half of your dress and your tits are pleased by his heavenly mouth.

“Am I a good boy yet?” he asks on the way towards your other breast, hot breath searing your supple skin.

“F-fuck,” You shake your head, desperate for more. “Not quite, ah—”

Responding to your words, Jaehyun’s wrist fires up. The muscles in his arm flex greatly alongside the acceleration of his thrusting digits, and yet, he’s still maintaining the puckering around your acute nub. The excitement builds in your chest and delicate moans develop into harsh groans.

“Babe, babe,” you call out, pausing the roleplay talk. Your fingers are falling weak within his hair and upon his arm, losing strength by the second. “I don’t want to come just yet. This is all for you, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

With one last inhale of your chest, he then hangs his head overs yours.

“Seeing you in pleasure is a gift in itself, honey,” Jaehyun states gently.

Behind your half-lidded eyes, you notice Jaehyun’s fixed stare, not deterring eye contact with you whatsoever. Despite the lust, your love plants a kiss atop of your forehead.

“Now, come for me and I’ll show you how good I can be to you.”

Embracing his relieving reassurance, you relax into his touch and unwind over his full fingers. After you’re fulfilled, Jaehyun tastes your slick off his fingers with a wink prior to the undressing of his pants.

Finally bare, your sight wavers between his beautiful figure and his equally beautiful cock as he lines up with your entrance. When his possession disappears entirely, engulfing within your desire, you simultaneously moan at the initial gratification.

Your beloved’s grip is safe around your waist, feeling the downy fabric of the dress still scrunched around your body.

Jaehyun drinks in everything—your face drenched in delectation, the constant bouncing of your bosoms happening in tandem with his deep plunges, his name spilling sweetly from your pretty lips, and the raw pleasure of it all.

He braces a hand onto the arm rest next to your head. Looking up at him, you bring your hands that were gripping tightly onto the couch towards his cheeks, cupping them.

“I can’t believe you’re all mine,” he utters. His spare hand moves towards your sprawled upper arm, rubbing the tender muscles. You nod, whimpering in agreement.

“Are you all mine?” you moan unevenly, intoxicated by the passion.

Jaehyun nods too with hazy eyes, running fingers through his mussy hair to view you clearly.

“Of course, of course...”

The kiss you share is overpowering, as if he was kissing you upon every inch of your body all at once. Flares flood over your body, but they’re not stopping anytime soon.

Following more fondling of one another’s bodies and the never ending orgasms he consistently draws out of you, Jaehyun can only last so much and eventually stirs, his pleasure reaching the brim and pouring onto your inner thigh.

Like clockwork, Jaehyun is quick to clean-up you and himself, and the two of you lay on the couch with him spooning your backside. You both agree to no blanket since each of you are sweltering because of the fireplace, in addition to what you just endured.

“If you think you’re going on the nice list after that, you’re wrong,” you pant, glancing over your shoulder slyly. “That was naughty from head to toe.”

Jaehyun pecks the back of your head, stuffing his nose in your hair.

“Coal is worth the price of having you.”

He hugs you tightly and you burst into a flutter of giggles as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Morning comes and you’re surprised to not find Jaehyun in bed with you, especially after the tiring events from last night. In your pajamas, you tread towards the living room and see him in his knitted black sweater by the kitchen counter on his phone. He glimpses up, grinning ear to ear, and places his phone down.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets, walking to you.

“Jae, why are you up so ea—”

Your gaze falls upon the Christmas tree in the corner and you notice a gift box as tall as a book. Puzzled, you make your way over.

“To get back at you for your gift last night,” he says next to you beside the tree and watches your next moves carefully. “I got you a little something too.”

You laugh as you unravel the large bow, thinking it’s likely a joke gift he often does or, on the other hand, maybe more lingerie since he loved the way it looked on (and off) you.

However, your breathing stills and your entirety stiffens.

A tiny velvet box is inside, with a folded piece of paper leaning against it.

One of your hands darts to your mouth, covering it. Shaking slightly, you peer up at Jaehyun.

He nods softly, urging you to continue.

You read the letter addressed to you quietly to yourself:

“Can you believe this is the fifth Christmas we’re spending together? Time flies by so fast, and this is our first Christmas in our own place. Hopefully the first of many!

I’m always grateful to spend the holidays with you and I couldn’t imagine anyone else to spend it with. I know it’s cliché, but I mean it when I say you mean the world to me. I can’t ask for a better gift than being with you.

On the topic of gifts, I know you might be disappointed that we agreed on no presents this year, but please don’t hate me for going against my word (if you want, you can gift me something from Boxing Day and we’ll call it even).

I’ve been waiting to give you this gift for a really long time...

I hope you like it.

Merry Christmas, my dearest.

Love,

Jaehyun ♡”

As you lift your head, tears blur your vision and you can’t stop them from falling. You try your best to muster up the biggest smile and squeak a simple, “Yes!”

The love of your life chuckles tenderly, caressing your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs swipe away the oncoming waterworks. “Honey, you didn’t even open the box yet.”

“I don’t need to. I have x-ray vision,” you joke. “My answer is yes.”

“You sure?” he asks. Even with the fog in your eyes, you see a sliver of worry and rejection flash by on Jaehyun’s face. You’re nodding fervently, not wanting him to doubt your love for even a second.

His expression fades and he gently grabs the letter and box out of your hands. Getting onto one knee, Jaehyun opens the velvet box, revealing the not-so surprising sparkling ring. He holds your hand in his and slowly places the ring on your left finger.

It’s a perfect fit.

Jaehyun stands up, still cherishing your hand in his. You’re enraptured by the light hitting the gemstone, twinkling back at you like a familiar smile.

“Guess we’re even now?”

Sniffling, you shake your head at Jaehyun before you wipe the tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m definitely getting you a proper gift tomorrow.”

Neither of you are aware of it and will find out later that day, but snow begins to fall outside at about the exact moment you lock eyes.

You take a deep breath, trying your best to sound as normal as you can, as if you weren’t just bawling your eyes out.

“I love you, Jaehyun.”

Your love moves some of the stray strands of hair out of your face and whispers:

“And I love you.”

The next kiss is ardent and heartfelt. A kiss you’ve shared with Jaehyun many times before, but it’s a little different than the rest.

It’s a kiss that signals the new beginnings for you and Jaehyun.

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falling-pages · 3 years

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Over and Over, Again and Again: KyoHaru (commission)

The absolutely lovely @ouranbound commissioned me for her birthday. This was so much fun and I just melt every time I read it 🥺 thank you so much sweetheart, I hope your day is magical!!

Info on commissions here (updated!)

Despite the heat, despite the outdoors, Kyoya considered it a lovely afternoon, if only for two reasons: he had a book in his hands and Haruhi’s head in his lap.

Kyoya Ootori x Haruhi Fujioka

Genre: Fluff

Contains: first I Love Yous, established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, but no drinking

Kyoya did not like being outside. It was often hot and sticky, the sun too bright and burning his skin, or too cold and blustery, the wind too harsh for his delicate constitution. Even refraining from walking to work, using his own driver to commute the blocks. It was silly, yes, and quite wasteful, but he had the money, and all that money allowed him to demand comfort. He never could understand why the others seemed to strain at their leashes to go outdoors--Mori and Hikaru organizing hikes and fishing trips, Tamaki and Kaoru scampering after them. He couldn’t find pleasure in swatting at the sweat running down his back, or cleaning his glasses every few minutes. The outdoors were quite insufferable.

But Haruhi liked the outdoors, and he liked Haruhi.

He supposed it was because of their different upbringings. While he had all the luxury of indoor pools and air conditioning, she didn’t. The outdoors were free; a simple space where commoners could exist without the expectation of spending money. Unlike any mall or restaurant, beneath the sun, the air cost nothing.

So he put up with it whenever she requested it. Her cool touch was more enticing than air conditioning, anyways.

He began to regret it, though, when their wine was no longer chilled. They had arranged a lovely picnic, lounging in a field his father owned. There were plans to develop it, one day, but for now it remained wild. A place where lovers could stow away amid the tall grass waving in the wind.

They sat in the shade of a lemon tree. Remains of rei-shabu and morokyu were stowed away in their picnic satchel, next to the ice pack. Their glasses were still filled with strawberry wine, though their minds and stomachs were too content to have more.

Despite the heat, despite the outdoors, Kyoya considered it a lovely afternoon, if only for two reasons: he had a book in his hands and Haruhi’s head in his lap.

It would have been lovelier in late May or early June, but he had been so busy with the end of the fiscal year. He was afraid of Haruhi’s impending disillusionment, with their relationship still so new, but if she was ever discontent, he knew she would tell him. Dating him had not turned her into a placated doll, as he had feared. He still took care of her, showering her in wealth whenever she asked, but it was rare; mostly, she just wanted to spend time with him, and he just wanted to take care of her, making sure her stomach was full and loans paid.

Not to say he didn’t spoil her, though. He had bought the very dress she was wearing, a strappy yellow thing with magenta stitching. And the gold earrings, shaped like roses on dangling stems, which laid so artfully on the backdrop of her velvet brown hair splayed against his thigh. Her hair was long enough to begin curling slightly at the ends, whenever it wasn’t done up in her tight law school bun.

It was rare he saw her like this, heart unbound and carefree. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips as he ran them against her cheek, half dreaming, half admiring. She slept in his lap, tuckered out from their afternoon. Lips red from wine pulled back slightly, a whimper on the tip of her tongue. For a moment, he feared had awoken her, hand frozen on her jaw, but she turned her neck back into his leg and resumed her breathing.

He sighed in relief. He had already ruined much in his life. The peaceful portrait beneath him was too pure to interrupt.

Once she was back asleep, he gave one last glance to her blushed cheeks and held up his book. It was old, a brown cover etched with gold, antique and clearly made for a bygone era, tattered pages though born on a press just a few years ago. Kyoya felt like that sometimes. An anachronism of his own kind. Set in one spot and lost to the pages of history.

But not here. A butterfly landed on Haruhi’s nose. Instead of swatting it, he watched, breathed in the life bellowing into his bones. In the world, at work, with his family, his soul felt ancient; his shoulders shook with the weight of an old-world empire. But with her, he was fresh, bathing in the fountain of youth. He was no longer an Atlas, cursed with the weight of the world; he was Dionysus with Ariadne--his shining jewel in the sky.

The love he had for her transcended space and time, yet she was blissfully unaware.

Tamaki’s advice echoed in his ears. He had to tell her eventually, else he’d lose her. Trained in all things etiquette, he still stumbled over even the most human of phrases.

Kyoya shook his head. The day he listened to Tamaki’s advice would be the day he’d resign from the Ootori group. As he returned to his book, his focus shifted. Some old French thing on culture, it mocked his feelings with dry phrases and tiny text. Tamaki had taught him enough French to get by, but reading it was another matter. It was to better himself and improve his chances with foreign business relations, was what he told himself, at least.

Haruhi’s ease and fascination with the language certainly had nothing to do with it. Nor did the jealousy in his palms when he would watch the two he loved most converse and giggle without him.

Some time after he resumed scanning it, regretting how he left his translation dictionary at home, Haruhi awoke. Not with a sigh or startle, as he was accustomed, but silently, with a breath, as if he were the bridge in which she crossed from one world into the next.

She laid still and watched him read, brilliant mind sweeping over each and every word. From the angle of his head tilt, she could see his eyes behind his glasses, a sharp, rare, deep black. Nondescript, and beautiful, the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen--above Tamaki’s lavender, Mori’s silver, the twins’ bronze and amber. She loved them because within their deep pools of tar, she saw her future.

Haruhi didn’t know for how long she looked at him. She had just started to fall back asleep when he spoke.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he murmured, not even taking his sight from the page.

She stayed focused on the smooth, pale skin of his jaw. It clenched and unclenched periodically, whenever he came across a phrase or word he didn’t know. She could have offered her help, but his lap was just too comfortable.

“I like the view,” she shrugged.

When he set the book down, eyes widened, she already knew what he was about to say.

“Out of all the sights, of the trees, flowers, and fields surrounding us, you think me more admirable?”

She was the lawyer--she was the one used to provoking confessions from people--but his cunning as a businessman made the words drip from his lips like honey, accentuating even as he dipped his head down to hers. Haruhi scrambled to shift her weight to her arm, propping herself up to meet his lips. And yet he hovered, smirking as he watched her mouth chase his, quieting her displeased whines with a chuckle.

“What, no answer?”

He was the devil in disguise, with a voice so silver and smooth, and she knew it. But if he were the devil, she was his Persephone--his lips were her pomegranate, and she bit.

She mustered her frustration into finally catching him in a kiss, swatting at his chest when she tasted his beleaguered smirk.

“You know my answer,” she retorted. “I choose you every day, over and over again.”

“I know,” my darling.” He removed his glasses, the only barrier between them, and pressed his forehead to hers. “And for that, I love you.”

He said it. It wasn’t how he planned on saying it, but it was there, suspended in the air by wires thin as twine. Her hand stilled in his hair, but she didn’t remove it.

“That’s the first time you’ve said it,” she breathed, an elation and joy she didn’t know she missed bubbling in her chest.

Kyoya opened his eyes. They had clenched shut on instinct, as protection, so he wouldn’t have to see the way she rejected him. But her calm voice coaxed them back open, and they settled on her lazy smile.

“It is,” he affirmed. “I thought...I thought you knew. It’s been so long.”

They had been dating for three months, yet known each other for nine years, and Kyoya had loved her for most of that. She had loved him for only half that, that she knew, but their affection was ancient, the kind read about in archaic stone tablets. The kind that would wait forever and ever to be discovered again and again.

“I do,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

And just when he thought his back would break from carrying the world, she kissed away his pain into an immortal love.

#ouran high school host club #kyoharu #kyoya ootori x haruhi fujioka #kyoya ootori #haruhi fujioka #kyoya x haruhi #ohshc

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

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•Man After Midnight•

Summary: Shota teaches Hitoshi how it's done in a cemetery.

Pairing: Dom Shota Aizawa x Sub FemReader x Switch Hitoshi Shinsou (all 18+)

Warnings: Threesome, Fingering, Oral (female and male receiving), Multiple orgasms, Sex on a grave, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Snowballing, Collaring, Dom/Sub dynamics, Poly dynamics.

Word count: 5,224

A/N: For once a fic if mine doesn't have Daddy kink, it does scream Daddy issues though lmao. I wrote the last 2k words of this in a hospital waiting room PLS bE NiCe.

Playlist

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You watch, transfixed as he slides his long, pale fingers up your skin. He moves the pesky fabric of your skirt out of the way, chuckling lowly when you shiver slightly.

“You’re a tease this evening.” You observe as his hand travels back towards your knee, away from where you need him.

Probably wise, considering you’re traveling at nearly ninety miles an hour down a very heavily wooded back road.

“Where are you taking me, Shouta?” You ask quietly, cautiously, knowing he doesn’t like being bothered with too many questions when he plans evenings like this.

It’s date night, but not your regular Saturday night wine and dine type of date night.

Once or twice a month you and Shota will spend a night out of the house, reserve a room, find some undisclosed location, and fuck your hearts out. Your relationship had always consisted of an electric sex life, but as of late you’ve both been exploring your very dark, very carnal desires.

One of the more drastic steps was allowing a third individual to enter into your sexual dynamic. A friend of Shota’s, his name is Hitoshi Shinsou. You had been introduced to the idea over an exquisite dinner one evening. Shota had explained Hitoshi was very intrigued by the kind of kinky lifestyle you two lived, and that he was very eager and willing to learn.

After that, Hitoshi began his education under Shouta, with you as his greatest tool for teaching.

Hitoshi is an aspiring Dom with an inexplicable soft spot for sweet little brats like you. This is why he and Shota got along so well. Shota has been working with him for months now, letting Hitoshi watch with wide, depraved, lavender eyes as he tames you, fucks your brains out, as he bends you until you break. He watches from a chair in the corner of the bedroom you share with Shota, occasionally with his hands tied, but he’s usually allowed the freedom to pleasure himself.

He’s only allowed to watch though, never touch, not yet. He’s allowed to touch himself, he’s allowed to talk, but he has not been allowed to lay a finger on you. The closest he’s come is tasting your release off of Shota’s fingers, thanking him and lamenting about how sweet you are.

He may be an aspiring Dom, but Hitoshi Shinsou is a brilliant little switch.

Needless to say, you and Hitoshi have developed some very intense tension, after hearing him ramble about how pretty you look when Shota is making you cry, you can’t help it. You don’t know somebody that intimately, you don’t watch somebody fall apart like that, and not want to be party to their undoing.

“We’re meeting Toshi somewhere.” He says, as calm and collected as ever.

“You’re going to spoil him tonight.” His voice rumbles slightly, eyes on the road, steady and intense,

“I- I am?” You want to pry, wanting to ask what the hell that entails.

Will he be allowed to touch you, taste you, will he finally be able to fuck you?

“His lesson will be very hands on this evening.”

You pause, waiting for an explanation, but you watch his brows draw together, his jaw set, and you know you’re not allowed to ask any further questions.

You may be a brat, but you’re not stupid.

A few bends and turns later, you’re pulling up to large, wrought iron gates.

“Just a moment, dear.” He kills the engine then pops open the door and slides out of the car.

You admire the way his long legs look in his dress pants, desire seeps into your skin as you watch his shoulders sway, adorned by a perfectly tailored blazer.

The man drips sexual tension, exudes power, and demands obedience.

He pops the gates open easily, your blood runs cold when you see what's beyond them.

You run your hands up and down the tops of your thighs anxiously, eyes locked at the various graves spread across the seemingly forgotten field. Ivy swallows the stones and creeps across the ground like long green fingers. The hair on the back of your neck raises, a sick feeling drips down your spine before it settles in your gut.

You're jolted from your anxiety when Shota appears on the outside of your door. He pops it open and offers you his hand.

"Is Hitoshi here?" You ask timidly as you take his hand and step out, heals crunching the gravel as you smooth your skirt down.

"He is." Another final statement, one that forbids any further questions.

You nod and loop your arm around his strong bicep. You let him guide you through the gates, thankful for the balmy summer air against your exposed legs.

You're guided down the winding pathway of the cemetery, you should feel haunted, oppressed by the eerie energy that clouds the air. You can't bring yourself to feel fear though, not when Shota has made the promise of being able to finally spoil Hitoshi.

You find him sitting alone on a bench next to the path, one long leg crossed over the other with his arms spread like swings across the back.

“How's it goin'?" His deep, bass filled voice slips from his lips, finding its way into your ribs, sending shivers through your body.

Cocky as ever, handsome as ever, Hitoshi never fails to make your mouth water.

He's presenting so relaxed, but there's something tight in his posture, like he's wound up, ready to pounce.

"Good evening, Hitoshi." Shota, "Both of you follow me." His greeting is short, almost bored sounding before he strolls off down the path at his lazy pace.

Hitoshi winks as you before standing up, he rolls his shoulders back then offers you his hand, which you take a bit too eagerly.

You both follow Shota along the path, silent but buzzing with anticipation. Sparks fly from your clasped hands, your cheeks grow hot as you try to keep up with the long strides of both men.

Eventually you find yourselves at a massive, knotted, cursed looking tree. The only thing illuminating the scene is the washed out light of the pale full moon. It hangs in the sky like a God, waiting to judge you for your sins.

"Here?" Hitoshi speaks up beside you as Shota strolls up to the tree, voice full of apprehension.

Then your blood freezes, your eyes lock on a slab of concrete that sticks up from the ground right in front of the tree. Shota is standing right before it, standing on someone's grave.

The sight makes your hair stand on end, your hand squeezes Hitoshi's involuntarily, desperately trying to hold on to something as the situation feels more and more out of your control.

"Here." Shota answers, gazing up at the wispy branches of the ugly old tree. Where the hell are you? More importantly, who the hell was that? Does Shota really intend on letting Hitoshi have his way with you on a grave?

He turns to face the two of you, a small, almost undetectable smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

His hand motions for you to come towards him with the gentle beckon of two fingers. You discard Hitoshi's hand, obeying instantly.

Shota's hand slides into his pocket, then he pulls out something that makes your whole body ache.

Your collar.

You want nothing more than to feel the cool leather wrap around your neck, have Shota guide you by the small metal loop in the front. All reservations about your current location are snuffed out by the heavy headspace that envelopes you.

Such a beautiful little piece, reminding you of all the way Shota has taken you, loved you, tamed you.

"Please?" Is all you can muster, voice soft and full of longing.

His hand comes to the bottom of your chin, tilting it up as he considers your face. His dazzling, dark eyes take in every feature.

"Of course, sweet girl." He loops it around you so gently, clasping the back with care, keeping your hair out of the way.

A pair of hands slide over your waist from behind, the sensation sends a wave of chills down your body. He's allowed to touch you? Did he even ask?

Hot lips are on your neck, and Shota just watches. A look you can't decipher flashes through his eyes. Then, tenderly, he puts his index finger through the loop on the front of your collar.

Then your head really swims.

With Hitoshi's mouth working against your heated skin, and Shota's eyes ripping you to shreds.

"She's a pretty little thing, isn't she, Toshi?" Shota mutters as he pulls you forward by the guide on your neck.

"She's perfect… She's so soft…" Hitoshi confesses, hands tightening around your waist, lips never fully leaving your neck.

With his other hand, Shota reaches up to grab Hitoshi by the chin. You both stand there, frozen, captivated by the authority that possesses you.

"You'll both behave tonight, won't you?" He asks, it's a loaded question and you know it. If Hitoshi is smart, he catches it too.

He didn't say be good, he said behave.

You both nod, silent and entranced.

"Speak up, please." There's no impatience to his voice, only guidance.

"Yes Sir." It's said in unison, but it couldn't sound more dissonant.

Your voice is willing and obedient. Hitoshi's is reluctant, relenting of control.

Shota seems pleased, though, enough to lean forward and take your lips with his. Hitoshi takes this as permission to continue working his lips against your neck.

You lose yourself then, melting between them, heating pooling between your weak legs as you let the two of them pull you to the ground. You whimper at the tug against your neck, only slightly shocked by the feeling of cement beneath your knees.

Hitoshi's hands become greedy at your waist, tugging at your clothes as he starts to use less tongue and more teeth.

"Can I please leave marks?" Hitoshi huffs against your skin, he sounds so desperate, like he's barely holding back.

Shota breaks your kiss, meeting Hitoshi's eyes as he awaits permission expectantly.

"Can he?" Shota's eyes meet yours, eyebrows raised.

"P-please." It's quiet, it's needy, it tumbles from your lips without your brain's consent.

Then he's on you, vibrant and selfish as his mouth explores every inch of skin it can. He leaves pretty little red marks up and down your neck as he works, pulling sweet moans from your parted lips.

"Good girl, tell him what you like." Shota whispers. Then, his hands are on your waist, pulling you up slightly so he can spin you on his lap.

He reclines back on the headstone, pulling your back against his chest and he hooks your legs over the tops of his thighs. You're left completely exposed to Hitoshi whose eyes are already ablaze with lust.

"Help me get these out of the way." Shota says to Hitoshi as he tugs at your skirt.

And then they're both on you like animals. Pulling and tugging away all of your clothes. Hitoshi does most of the work as Shota directs your body like a puppet until you're fully rid of the pesky fabrics.

It's almost embarrassing, being naked while they're both so covered. It's not quite deserving of shame, though. If anything, it's exhilarating.

Still in your place on Shota's lap, your body is washed by the warm evening breeze, bathed in moonlight as Hitoshi all but drools over your exposed curves.

He kneels between yours and Shota's legs, eyes darting madly over the planes of your body, taking I'm every detail he can.

"Don't just stare at her, Toshi, make her feel good." Shota says as he slides a hand around your waist, inching it down to your heated center.

"You like to feel good, don't you baby?" Another kiss is placed under your ear as his hand dips lower.

The pad of his middle finger slides over your clit, making you jump just a little. Both men chuckle darkly as your jittery reaction, but the laughter dies when he starts to draw slow, lazy circles against you.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he starts to work his magic. He moves his fingers with so much skill and familiarity, your walls start gripping immediately.

"Start with your fingers, ease her into it." Shota instructs. Your eyes blink open, and the way that Hitoshi is looking at you makes you gasp.

He looks positively wild, dark shadows decorate his pretty face in such an ominous way. His eyes are less teasing, more focused and intense. He doesn't look like a brat. He looks like he's in charge.

Cautiously, he hand drifts down your inner thigh, eyes locked on yours the whole time. Shota continues to work at your clit as Hitoshi starts to tease the crux of your thigh with his thumb.

"Have some fun with her, that's what we're here for." Shota smiles against your neck when your hips buck after he applies slightly more pressure.

"Is one man not enough for you? You need two of us playing with that little cunt?" Hitoshi's words drip from his mouth like ice. You tense under their weight, shocked by his confidence.

His thumbs play at your slit, gathering the slick there.

"God, she's fucking soaked." He looks to Shota who only smiles while he slides his own fingers down to feel your wet hole.

"Oh she is." He says with a mocking tone.

"You think you can take Toshi's fingers? Ask him nicely, maybe he'll play with you." His other hand slides up to grab your jaw, directing your gaze to Hitoshi.

"Please- Toshi, please touch me." His whole body sags when he hears your sweet pleading, not used to it being directed at him.

He loves it, and god does he want more.

Your chest burns when he flattens himself into his stomach, hands splayed across your thighs as he watched Shota play with your clit.

Hitoshi's eyes stay on yours as Shota's lips stay at your neck. With an agonizing pace, Hitoshi finally brings his long middle finger to your entrance and slips it in.

The sensation is nothing but a tease, a preamble to what will inevitably turn into wild, blinding pleasure. For now, you can only lay there and shutter when he adds a second finger. Both men work together until your legs are twitching as sweat beads on your brow.

"You feel how tight she's getting? When she does that curl those fingers." Shota tells Hitoshi, his own fingers start moving a little faster, pushing down a little more.

"Oh fuck." You huff when Hitoshi does as he's told, kissing your sweet spot with his fingers as he curls them.

"Good boy." Shota groans, paying close attention to the way your body trembles.

"I wanna taste her, please let me taste her." Toshi begs with a frantic voice, fingers working mercilessly against your walls.

Shota doesn't answer, he only chuckles deep in his chest as he reaches out to grab Hitoshi by the hair at the front of his head. Both men remove their hands from your core as Hitoshi presses his hot, greedy mouth to your dripping sex.

All you can do is cry out and buck against his mouth as his tongue finds your clit, he moans against you, slurping and sucking obscenely as you shiver and sob.

Shota keeps his hand firmly planted in Toshi's hair, the other grabs you under the knee to crank your leg up, spreading you nice and wide for his prodigy.

"Flatten that tongue, press down." Shota tightens his grip on Hitoshi's hair, who listens well and executes perfectly.

Your back bends and your hands fly to Hitoshi's purple waves as shocks of pleasure shoot through you, you feel it building, capturing your very soul. Shota's other hand meets your other leg to mirror his hold on both sides.

You roll your hips against Hitoshi's mouth, his slick tongue glides up and down on your clit, eyes watching your every move, reading you, memorizing the way you react.

"Let him have it, Kitten, he wants it so damn bad." Shota mumbles against your ear, and that's all it takes.

You crest brilliantly, throbbing and aching between them both. Shota mutters his sweet praises while Hitoshi laps up everything you have for him, moaning like a bitch against your cunt.

"You taste so fucking good, your pussy is so sweet." He says against you, never fully removing his mouth.

"You should feel how tight she gets when she's got a dick inside her." Shota teases, laughing when you gasp and try to squeeze your thighs shut.

He keeps you held open for Hitoshi until he's licked up your entire mess. Finally, he pulls away, licking his lips with the devil in his eyes.

"Can I?" His voice is so shaky, so unhinged, driven over the edge of sanity by his desire to ravage you now that he finally can.

He looks between the both of you, waiting for someone to unhook his leash, desperate to be let lose you.

You wait with baited breath, looking back at Shota for his response. He looks down at you with eyes full of depravity and possession.

"Fuck her right, Toshi." His order sends you both reeling.

He doesn't need to be told twice, he barely needs to be told once. As soon as Shota grants him permission, Hitoshi is kissing up your body, his hands reach up to play with your firm nipples. He rolls them between his fingers as he kisses up between your breasts.

Shota stays steady behind you, still dutifully holding your legs open. He kisses your neck on occasion, tells you how good you're being, promising that Hitoshi will make you feel so good.

"Doesn't she look pretty with her legs spread?" Shota muses, his own long legs spread just a bit wider as he drops yours back over his thighs.

"She's perfect like this…" Hitoshi growls, teeth teasing your collar bone.

He makes quick work of his pants, only pushing them down around his thighs, in too much of a rush to take them off completely. As Hitoshi moves, you become painfully aware of Shota's hard length pressing into your backside.

You wiggle back against him, teasing him with your ass. His hands fly to your hips, stilling your movements.

"Does somebody need a cock inside her?" Shota says with a low, mocking tone, "You can help her, can't you, Toshi? You can stuff her little pussy?"

Hitoshi slides his briefs down to join his pants, nodding as he grabs himself and starts to pump. He's already so hard, he's so long and curved and pretty.

You whimper and wiggle, overwhelmed by Shota's words, by Hitoshi's beauty.

"So quiet tonight, come on, kitten. You can be so mouthy." Hitoshi says as he leans forward, he braces himself on the headstone behind Shota. His long body looms over yours as Shota snakes one arm around your waist, the other comes up to hold you by the collar.

You watch with tingling nerves as Hitoshi lines himself up with your center, running his thick head along your folds.

"Let him hear you, make this fun for him." Shota orders against your ear, it's a harsh whisper, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Yes Sir- Oh fuck, Toshi!" He pushes in, rough and sudden. A cheshire smile spreads across his lips as he watches you jump in Shota's arms.

"Take it, be still." Shota says, less authoritative, more amused.

Hitoshi presses in, a little too fast, a little too hard. He stretches you as he works his way in, obsessed with the way your walls pulse around him. Even the "too much" of it feels heavenly, so you don't stop it, you do what you're told. You hold still. You take it.

"Fucking hell." Hitoshi pants as he bottoms out, forehead falling against yours as your walls flutter. Your hands grasp at his muscular sides, nails digging in just a little when he leans into you a bit more.

"She's so fucking tight." He breathes, brows drawn together like he's already trying to hold in his release. He seems baffled, taken by surprise, but most of all, entranced.

"She always is." Shota says before licking up the shell of your ear. The action makes you clench, which makes Hitoshi shutter as a small, broken sound leaves his throat.

His eyes are locked on where you meet, fixating on the way he splits you open. Meanwhile, you lay there spellbound between their two strong bodies. The rise and fall of Shota's chest lolls you into a trance as Hitoshi sinks down against you.

He plants one hand firmly on the ground, the other grips the headstone like a vice, and then he starts moving.

"Tell him how you like it, sweet girl." Shota abandons his hold on your collar, opting to wrap his hand around your throat instead.

"Hard. Harder Toshi, please." You say, your voice is pathetic, but you can't begin to care.

His eyes lock with yours, that dangerous, carnal glint returns to them. His lips twitch into a smirk before he pulls back and slams back into you.

Shota's grip on your throat tightens as he laughs against your neck when you arch and cry out for Hitoshi.

"Like that?" He leans down to capture your lips with his.

It catches you by surprise, how soft they are, how easily they fit between yours. You'd imagined kissing him countless times, and this more than lives up to your fantasies.

He breaks it, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Speak up, kitten." Hitoshi says.

"Answer him." Shota adds on.

"Yes! Like that, just like that." You admit, your nails rake down his back as your hips roll up, desperate for him to move again.

"Show her how it's done, kid." Shota's voice is nothing but black velvet wrapping itself around you and Hitoshi. You know you're done for by the way his eyelids fall low, the way every muscle in his torso tenses.

Then he shows you.

With one swift motion he pulls back and lets loose on your poor body. He fucks you with every ounce of built up passion, remembering all the times he watched Shota have all the fun. Neither of you can stop your moans and pleas from leaving you, both completely enraptured with the way the other's body responds.

"Good fucking girl. You like it don't you? You'll take any cock you can get, huh?" Shota's words are firey now, lighting up your skin, burning away any self control you had left.

You nod frantically and muster one, pitiful "uh-huh" as Hitoshi finally rocks himself into your sweet spot. If it weren't for Shota's arm latching you against his chest, you would have jumped damn near jumped to the moon.

"Oh baby. Did I get it? Is that the spot that makes this kitty purr?" Hitoshi grins down at you, still thrusting with all of his strength.

His lessons with Shota have evidently paid off, he's a natural, his words turn you to mush, utterly compliant mush.

You can't answer, every time he sinks in he kisses it with his cock. Your legs start to tremble and the tears start to fall as the heat builds and builds and builds between your legs.

"It sure fuckin' is, poor thing can't even talk." Shota taunts, the hand around your throat tightens just a little, only enough to remind you that you're at his mercy.

"I'm- oh my god- I'm so close, so fucking close." Is all you can manage to say, and it's a fight to get the words out, all of your brain power is being used to focus on the electricity thrumming through your core.

"Let me help you with that." Shota says, his hand leaves your throat and snakes down your body.

His middle finger is on your clit before you can even blink. Then you break. You sob and buck and claw as everything comes to peak. You feel the ghost of Shota's lips on your neck, the phantom of Hitoshi's thrusts, but most of all you just feel yourself shatter.

"So. Fucking. Tight- shit!" Hitoshi grits out as he fucks you through it.

His rhythm is thrown slightly by the way you grip him. Shota's fingers slow in harmony with your clamping walls, easing you through your bliss.

With one last push in, and one last beautiful, almost sorrowful moan, Hitoshi buries himself inside of you. You watch how his body trembles when he finishes, how he bites his bottom lip and screws his eyes shut.

He's so damn gorgeous.

"What do you say?" Shota mumbles over your shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." You both sigh, bodies still twitching against each other.

A rough hand seizes your jaw.

"Hands and knees, girl." He spits.

There's your dom.

Reluctantly, slowly, Hitoshi pulls out of you. Somehow he's still hard, maybe even more swollen than before. Shota releases you from his lap, and your body moves to obey him instantly.

As you settle on all fours, the rough ground bites at your knees but you welcome it. Shota frees himself from the confines of his pants as you adjust your posture. He's not quite as long as Hitoshi, but he's thicker. Your mouth waters as he starts to move his fist over the weeping head.

Hitoshi settles behind you, his hands run over your ass as Shota leans forward to hook a finger into your collar. With a gentle tug forward, he glares down at you, his raven hair falling around his face in wild waves.

"Get to work." He commands as he pulls you down towards his length.

You open your mouth instantly, more than ready to obey.

As you take him in, reveling in the tangy precum spreading across your tongue, you feel a hand in the back of your hair.

But it's not Shota's.

Hitoshi's guiding hand pushing you down onto his teacher's cock.

"You too, Toshi, that cunt isn't going to fuck itself." You try not to choke around him as his words settle like ice in your gut.

You look up at Shota with watery eyes as he hits the back of your throat. Then you feel Hitoshi at your entrance again, making you moan around Shota as he pushes in.

Both men swear, voices low and harsh as they fill you. Hitoshi hands grapple at the fat of your hips while Shota's settle in your hair.

Then they both start moving.

Shota fucks up into your open mouth as Toshi builds a slow, deep rhythm behind you.

"You're just a little cocksleeve aren't you? You live for this shit." Shota moans as he throws his head back as you take control and start bobbing your head up and down.

"That's my girl, suck that cock." He puts his hands behind his head, relaxing against the headstone.

The image should make your skin crawl, but it only makes your core clench tighter, which only makes Hitoshi fuck you harder.

"How's she feel, kid? Is that pussy everything you dreamed of?" Shota asks, marveling at the scene he's created.

"She's perfect- fuck- she feels so damn good." He finds your sweet spot again, staying right on top of it when you moan around Shota.

"Oh she likes it. She loves taking that cock." He chuckles, earning a sweet, high pitched moans from Hitoshi.

Hitoshi may want to be in charge, but he's quickly remembering who is in charge.

You focus on breathing through your nose, allowing your throat to open so you can take Shota even deeper. He hisses as his hips stutter up, cheeks flushing as he watches you work.

"Good girl, open up for me." He praises, nodding his head as he speaks.

Drool seeps out of your mouth and down his length as the tears finally fall, you feel your slick run down your thighs as Hitoshi rams into you over and over. All you can do is tremble and take both of them, but you wouldn't want to be doing anything else.

"You feel so good, kitten, you're taking it so well." Hitoshi moans from behind you, nails digging into your ass as he pounds away.

"She always takes it so well." Shota says fondly.

Your next orgasm hits you out of nowhere, all consuming as it rips through your body. The praise of both men going directly to your core. You pull off Shota's cock to gasp and moan, but you replace your mouth with your hand, pumping him up and down.

Suddenly, Shota is standing to his feet, grabbing you under your arms so he can push against Hitoshi, who gladly grabs you around the neck with his hand. The new angle prolongs your aftershocks, body limp and buzzing as Shota stands with his legs spread and his cock in his hand.

"Open wide, kitten. He's got somethin' for you." Hitoshi whispers in your ear before crying out against you as he stills inside you once more so he can spill into you.

Shota watches with selfish eyes as you both fall apart for each other. He lets the head of his cock fall against your bottom lip, a low groan rolls out of him as he fills your mouth with his release.

"Don't swallow it. Hold it." You answer by keeping your eyes on his as your hands slide up his thighs.

Hitoshi pants against your shoulder as you take Shota's load. His taste spreads across your taste buds, warm and familiar.

With one last pulse, he finishes completely.

"How about you be a good girl and share?" Shota says with a dark tone, nodding at Hitoshi.

"God, please, let me taste it." Hitoshi begs, his hands squeeze at your waist as he slips out of you.

He kneels beside you before taking your face in his hands, then he opens his mouth and looks at you with wide, expectant eyes.

Hitoshi Shinsou, what a brilliant little switch.

You grab his jaw and lean forward before you part your lips, allowing Shota's load to dribble down onto Hitoshi's tongue. The depravity of it all sends a thrill screaming through your soul. Every inch of you aches for more of this, more of both of these men.

Hitoshi moans as he takes everything you give him, swallowing with greed before wiping his mouth with the back of your hands.

"Look at you two, just a couple of cumsluts." He grabs you both by the hair, forcing you to look at him.

"You both did so well." He sighs, looking at you both affectionately.

"I should let you play together more often."

If it means you get to end up like this, skinned knees, covered in sweat and cum, fucked well over some poor soul's grave. You hope he lets you play together more often, you crave it more than anything now.

Hitoshi Shinsou could definitely learn to be a dom, especially with more lessons like these.

#hitoshi shinsou #shota aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa smut #shinsou smut #shinzawa smut #shinzawa #bnha smut #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #eraser daddy #eraserhead #pro hero shinsou #dadzawa

321 notes · View notes

the-darklings · 3 years

Text

╱ together.

pairing: jean & v, implied other v ships

verse: coa, alt post-ch19 timeline

word count: 4.8k

prompt: “We’ll lose.” - “Then we’ll do that together, too.”

notes: so this is a speculative piece looking at how jean might have fit into coa verse & how him and clara v could have fit together. dedicated to that one anon who asked more of them, thank you very much for making my day! 🌿 ✨

“Well, well. Out here all by yourself and in the dark?” a smooth, accented voice calls out and your shoulders jolt, stiff with disuse, your head tipping towards the approaching figure of a man. “Have you been doing much brooding, chérie?”

Jean’s tall, graceful frame casts a shadow across the decking of the penthouse terrace as he saunters closer and you bite back a grin. With the cover of darkness as his partner, he’s a panther, a predator, out for a casual hunt in the shadows. Tonight, his prey is you. But he knows better than that. You both do.

The Frenchman halts beside you and takes a seat on your right without waiting for an invitation. This time a roll of your eyes follows his innate show of arrogance but you don’t impede him. Allow him space next to you which is a privilege very few have ever been granted.

It’s dark up here. Quiet. You didn’t bother with any lights aside from the automatic pool ones. Wind whistles gently across the tranquil surface, causing a ripple to shift across the previously calm body of water. Faintly—from the direction Jean had just come from—you can still hear the rest of your family inside the apartment.

The final touches are being added and prep is being made. Tomorrow…

Tomorrow will either spell the beginning of your victory or utter defeat. One of these scenarios ends with all of you dead, if not worse.

“And here you are bothering me in my final moments of peace,” you note dully.

The man beside you stretches his legs out, inclining back in the comfortable outdoors chair leisurely. Plush and Italian made—as if Santino would ever clad his home in anything that wasn’t authentic or expensive. A taste for finer things in life is something Jean and Santino share in common. Though you’ve long since learned that Jean’s appetite comes from a different place; a place you could always relate to, much to the Italian’s chagrin.

Wind plays with your loose hair—a rare occasion when it’s not pulled out of reach—and it leaves you breathing calmly, counting the thuds of your own heart. It’s not frantic this time though. You savour every beat of your heart now. Relish the moments you still have. However few of those there are still left.

Jean shifts beside you, pulling something out of his pocket and you glance at him briefly. The dark grey of his expensive wool jumper almost makes him blend in with the night, but the icy blue of his eyes stands out with the pool lights reflecting in them. If anything, it makes his attention feel even more intent. Honed.

“Can’t a man enjoy a smoke anymore?” he wonders innocently, a touch of sarcasm clear, and places an unlit cigarette between his lips, lighting it with expert ease a moment later.

He takes a long drag before pulling it away from his mouth and you watch his profile as he exhales slowly, savouring the moment, his head tilting towards the vast sky above you.

Using his momentary distraction, you reach forward, pinching the cigarette between your fingers and placing it between your lips instead. Jean doesn’t offer much resistance. As usual, he only looks mildly amused by your antics, a brief smirk appearing before it’s gone.

“Still greedy.”

Your lips twitch at that, too. “Some things don’t change.”

You inhale deeply, feeling the burning heat of the smoke at the back of your throat before passing the cigarette back to him. The smoke slips like dreamy wisps from between your parted lips and you look towards the open sky as well. Jean’s stare stays on your mouth. You know because you can always feel him. His attention is like silk caressing your skin, kissing little patches of skin, stealing them for himself.

You’re hardly the only greedy one here. He, too, exists in absolutes. More so than he would care to admit at least.

The blinding lights of New York City—even this late—almost drown out the stars but you can still see them. As cold and as distant as the man beside you. You want to ask him why he’s out here in the first place. Why would he bother? He may dress it up as wanting to smoke but everything Jean does is far too deliberate and calculated for this to be a mere coincidence.

Nor does the man beside you believe in such things. Master of his own fate—he always has been.

Jean places the cigarette back between his lips and turns to grab something from beside his chair. You hadn’t even noticed he was carrying something. Are you slipping this much already? Your instincts and body deteriorating even quicker than you calculated?

“May I interest you in a drink?” he offers, his words almost a soft murmur around his cigarette, and raises a bottle of wine and two glasses in the air.

You don't bother hiding your chuckle. “Trying to get me drunk on the eve of the battle?’

He, in turn, doesn’t bother denying it. He only bestows you with a knowing twitch of his mouth—all half-secrets and implications; dark and arcane as him, but doesn’t confirm nor deny your words no matter how long you wait.

“Maybe your hangover will be so terrible tomorrow you will abandon your suicidal plan, vipère.”

It’s a mild statement; a test of waters more so than anything, but you know Jean doesn’t speak mindlessly often. If ever. He chooses his words as carefully as he does everything else in his life. He’s methodical; oftentimes ruthlessly so.

You watch curiously as he places one glass next to your feet and one beside his own, opening the bottle with practised, near beguiling ease. He pours half a glass each, a cigarette bit between his teeth now, and you see how he inhales the smoke, still tasting tobacco on your own tongue. Red wine and cigarettes are two flavours you associate with him. With his mouth. The growl of his voice in your ear, the roll of your name on his destructive tongue.

A smudge of dark orange light illuminates his angular, handsome features and dark stubble and you can’t quite help your next words.

“You’re here.”

You hadn’t expected him to linger. His job was done. Yet here he is.

A small sound rumbles from the back of his throat. “I’m here because you asked me to be here,” he reminds you, and you can hear the displeasure—the downright callous edge to his amiable words—when he removes the cigarette from between his lips. Smoke slips from between them as he speaks, his eyes finding yours in the darkness. “Consider yourself very lucky that I owe you, V. After this, however, I’m not sure I’m ever going to bother you with business again. I’m not sure why you bothered inviting me here in the first place.”

Yes. His debt.

He’s tried to weasel out of it for years. Everything from trying to get you into trouble, outright attempting to get rid of you, to downplaying the sheer magnitude of it. He’s never succeeded, however, and has grown fond of comparing you to a viper with seven lives.

A life debt is a life debt though.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t think you’re half as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

Even if others have outright disagreed with your opinion of the man.

Jean snorts under his breath, a cool smile splitting his face, sharper than one of your blades. Shaking his head, he lifts the glass in the air, offering it to you. You take it after a pause, watching him do the same with his glass. “You’re right,” he hums in agreement, and takes a sip of his wine; a slow one because he never rushes these things, and you know it. The cigarette returns to his mouth a moment later and he turns to glance at you again. “I’m much worse.”

“You’re also smart,” you note without missing a beat and take a mouthful, too. It’s red and fruity, and the sweetness of it coats your tongue pleasantly. Though usually you aren't too fond of wine this sweet, Jean has developed a habit of finding things you love. However accidentally. Or perhaps he knows you better than you do. He no doubt believes so. It’s become another game for him over the years. One of his favourite games to play between you on the rare occasion you would run into each other. “And know that if you betray me and my family, death will be the least of your worries.”

You don't bother mincing your words or implying things. Not this time. Not when it comes to this.

If he betrays you, he will die choking on his blood regardless of your past association or lingering fondness for him. You will rip him to shreds with your bare hands if he ever so much as attempts it.

Bringing him in on this has been the biggest risk you ever took. Everyone opposed you. Even John. Winston had been the only one who—no matter how reluctantly—eventually agreed that Jean Laurent could end up becoming a unique and unexpected advantage.

You proved your own suspicion correct. Combining Jean’s web of information with Step’s hacking skills has been as good as striking a goldmine. It’s been invaluable in gathering intel on all the members of the High Table and their weaknesses.

A vicious, clever spider sitting in the middle of his silky web of information, and you have taken advantage of every single thread in it.

You’ve been watching his every move since he joined your side like a hawk. You don't trust him—can’t trust him. You would be a fool to do so, and even though he has stuck by his word so far, you still feel like the moment you glance away from him will be the moment he sells you out.

One leak, one sly suggestion—that’s all it would take for everything you’ve been working towards to fall apart. Everything would be lost, and it would be your fault.

All because you placed some semblance of trust in the last man on earth deserving of it.

“My, my, I do love it when you talk dirty to me, vipère,” he murmurs lightly, his voice unconcerned but the shift in his eyes informs you how your words have been noted. He knows better than to dismiss you.

Jean raises the glass back to his mouth, a smouldering cigarette sitting snugly between his index and middle fingers, and you watch how the wind ruffles his black hair.

This time smoke rolls from his nose. He gazes at the New York skyline silently, pensively. Maybe he did mean his earlier words after all. Maybe he simply joined you because he, too, wants a moment to himself.

Cold nips at your fingertips—you’re not quite sure how long you’ve been sitting out here by yourself—and perhaps that’s the reason why you break the silence between you first.

“You came because I asked,” you begin carefully, still peering at him while he looks out towards the world. Forever looking ahead. You always loved that about him. Jean doesn’t like looking back, only ahead. Often you wished you could shake your past as easily as he seemingly can shake his. How many times has he told you the same? “But you chose to stay. Why?”

His expression remains impassive, not outwardly reacting to your words, and you begin to doubt he will ever offer you a response before he finally speaks up.

“It will never work,” he states frankly. “This plan of yours. It cannot be done. We’ll lose.”

Of course this is what this is about. He’s always been out for himself. The fact that he thinks your plan will fail should not surprise you. He told you as much the moment you finished telling him about it. He point-blank called you an idiot for ever thinking you could take on the High Table and win.

You are many things, V, but foolish is not one of them.

You had hoped these weeks spent planning and working together would have changed his mind. Shown to him that this isn’t a simple pipe dream. That you have the raw skill and the will to follow through with this coup.

You wanted Jean to believe in this goal—this dream—too.

He is, of course, not wrong.

The longer you planned, the more of this plan came together, the easier it became to see what he’d been saying from the start.

You are not only likely to lose, you are near guaranteed to do so.

Unless…

Unless you gamble away everything. Whatever little there is still left of you. The clock is already ticking. It has been for two months now. Every minute of every day the end is nearing. The least you can do…

The least you can do is make it count.

“Then we’ll do that together, too,” you say softly.

And it won’t be such a terrible way to go, you think, keeping them safe.

Jean finally drags his eyes your way. The bitterness creasing his expression cuts deeper than you ever could have expected it to. It’s rare for him to show this much.

“Do not tell me you are this naive, chérie,” he says coldly, his expression emptying of emotions swiftly. He seems to have caught himself in the uncharacteristic slip, exhaling a low, “But it seems like this night is full of disappointments,” he adds quietly with a forced exhale, his eyebrows curving downwards.

Neither of you speaks for a while after that.

You cradle the wine glass between your partially numb fingers, occasionally lifting it to your mouth.

Maybe you should get drunk. Do something reckless. The call of the void has been screaming at you as of late. Seductive whisper after seductive whisper how you could and should do anything you want. With whoever you want.

L'appel du vide, vipère, Jean used to exhale hotly against your ear, it is why you and I are the same. Your days are numbered unless some miracle happens and you find an antidote anyway.

But feeling hopeful after failing for two months straight is not something you can muster up tonight.

You realise, then, that this may very well be the last opportunity to get some answers from the man beside you. Get some rectification on your odd bond over the years. Not your first attempt but what will certainly be your last.

“Do you think…”

You’re suddenly unsure where to even begin. How does one untangle years of tiptoeing around different labels? Enemies that are not quite enemies. Lovers that are not quite lovers. Friends when it suits them, then the cycle repeats, and it’s like they’re back at square one all over again. Constant push and pull.

You’ve never been sure where you stand with Jean. Two years ago everything between you changed but unlike with others, he’s always been every blurred line in your life. An almost-maybe.

“I try to,” comes his dry response from beside you.

You roll your eyes, bobbing your leg up and down as another gust of wind sweeps across the silent terrace.

Jean has finished his cigarette, his shrewd stare now focused on you, expectant.

Go on, then, say it, his unfaltering stare seems to goad.

You’re not nervous. You have nothing left to fear, not anymore. But all the same…

You’re tired of constantly being hurt by someone. Your question opens the door for exactly that.

“Do you think we ever could have worked out?”

Had life gone just a little different. Had you met when you were both less guarded and twisted up inside. You, at least, have managed to find people willing to stand in your corner and fight your fight.

He’s all alone.

And maybe he prefers it that way—he has certainly always been adamant that he does—but you’ve never believed it. Not fully, at least.

A house full of people he could string along and play with, yet the liesmith seeks refuge out here in the dark. With you.

A thoughtful hum, then, “Don’t let your gaggle of boyfriends hear you asking me that.”

You almost splutter.

Your head snaps in his direction, your eyes narrowing, “I don’t have a gaggle of…fuck you,” you spit when you spot his smug expression and a raised brow.

“You have,” he purrs, his accented words a caress of his hot mouth across your fluttering pulse. “Many, many, filthy times, amante. Or am I so easy to forget?”

“You know, for how often you go on about Santino stroking his ego,” you remark dryly, giving him a pointed stare. “You sure do it often yourself.”

Jean clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat, more irked by the change in the topic than he lets on. You’ve learned to read him as well. To a degree, at least.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by D’Antonio’s drooling?” he scoffs, words bland but tone sharp. “It’s frankly embarrassing. Either he’s atrocious at seducing you and you’re entertaining him out of pity, or he doesn’t understand you at all.”

His words dig into your heart but you don’t let him see it. Quirking an amused brow, you instead stare at him. “At this point, I honestly can’t tell if you hate him because you’re French and he’s Italian or because you don’t like him as a person.”

Jean grins this time; a dark, cruel thing. “Ah, chérie, hatred is too strong of an emotion to waste on someone I don’t care about,” he rebukes smoothly, standing to his feet. He glances in your direction, adding a deliberate, “But D’Antonio hates me because I won the one thing he always wanted but could never have.”

You.

Even if it weren’t for the deliberate, hot dig of Jean’s stare focusing on your face, you know as much already.

Blue depths drag over your still shape, lingering on your neck and lips, and you wonder if he’s thinking back on all the wicked things he’s done with them. Every moan and bruise, every hot drive into your body and mould of your naked skin together. He’s been an escape from everything. A bit of fun, a release, a shadow smearing in and out of your life for years.

Now though, you can’t help but wonder. Can’t help but consider why it’s always been so easy with him when it hasn’t been with others. Why every pursuit of happiness in the past has ended in misery and pain. With Jean, you always got exactly what you signed up for.

Mindblowing sex, thrill, challenge, and an escape without any attachments. No promises of a glowing future or expectations for you. He never made you live under the expectation of you being anything other than yourself. Messy and cracked around the edges but still you.

Jean has never cared for a normal life or demanded it of you, never wanted you to become an apprentice or Lady of anything.

You’ve always been enough to him just as you are, you realise with a dizzying rush. And his awful, seductive, traitorous self has always been enough for you as well. He’s never tried to change you or himself to appease you.

Not hearing a response, Jean offers you another striking grin you know has seduced endless numbers to his bed and turns to go.

“Wait!” you call out, jumping to your feet. Your joints protest, groaning and cracking, and stumble a step after him. He’s paused in his tracks, turning back towards you. “You never answered my question. If you think we could have worked out.”

You stand together, breathing, and he gazes at you for a long, charged minute. It’s nigh impossible to tell what’s going on behind his effortless mask of ease and composure. Always in control of himself and his emotions.

You’re about to ask him again but he closes the distance between you in two steps, grabbing you by the neck and yanking you to him. His mouth is hot and consuming as you remember it. His tongue drags over the roof of your mouth, seeking out every edge, every crevice, claiming it entirely. Claiming you. Despite him standing almost a head taller, you snake your hand around his neck, savouring his hiss of breath at the feeling of your cold fingers on his heated neck. Broad shoulders block the wind, block the rest of the world, and you sigh into him. He still tastes of smoky tobacco and sweet wine. A dizzying mix that stirs your body, warming your blood. Your nails drag up his neck and into the strong strands of his midnight hair, scratching all the while. You feel his hold on the back of your neck tighten in response.

The battle between you two never ceases and you can feel him grinning against your mouth, as if he, too, is having the same epiphany.

“Don’t die,” he exhales hotly against your parted lips when you separate with a gasp, still holding you to him, every hard edge of his body cutting into you. “Maybe then we can find out.”

Don’t die.

You almost burst into tears.

I’m dying right now, you want to confess to him. Would he stay if he knew as much? Would he stay until your heart halted inside your chest and you became forever still? Would he be kind if you asked him to be? Just this once?

He’s unaware of your internal struggle, dragging his thumb over the line of your jaw. Lips parted, and eyes hooded—you’ve seen this side of him many times. The sensuous lover with his sultry eyes more sapphire than blue now that he’s gazing down at you. How many times has he stared at you exactly like this? Caught dragging his tongue over every crevice of your body, his favourite being the dip between your thighs and your neck.

Jean nudges backwards, and you read his question there, his body asking what his tongue won’t.

If you’re joining him in bed. If tonight you’re his. Another stolen instance between you.

“I can’t,” you say quietly. He doesn’t appear surprised or angry by your refusal, his hands slipping from your body with a nod. But you don’t let him retreat, grasping his forearm, feeling the coil of muscle where you’re holding onto him. “Wait.”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out a familiar, heavy object. Gold gleams in the low light and you turn the circular disk, warmed by your body.

Jean stiffens at the sight of it. You both know what it is.

Opening the Marker with a too quiet click, you release your hold on him, staring at the print of his blood smeared inside.

He helped you only because the High Table would have hunted him if he hadn’t obeyed his Marker, you remind yourself. You silence the voice inside your head that reminds you he could have sold the information to them for immunity if he so wished.

Exhaling, you press your thumb against the tiny needlepoint, not reacting to the bite of pain. Blood wells against your skin and you stare at it for a moment.

You’re not sure if Jean is still breathing but you feel the intensity of his stare searing into your body.

Breathing deeply, you press your thumb harshly against the cool metal. Another second later you pull back, staring at your dual blood prints on the metal plate. Your insides quiver at the sight of it.

This is the way it’s always been between you. Shadows and blood, secrets and hunger.

Sometimes…

Sometimes in between those moments, you could almost pretend he loved you.

“We both know you were going to leave anyway,” you begin tightly, closing the Marker with a grim smile, holding it out to him. “This was just another shitty goodbye. Never thought you’d manage to top Venice. Or Berlin for that matter. But now you’re free. I no longer want you here, so don’t be here tomorrow. Save yourself while you still can.”

He doesn’t deny your words. He at least respects you enough to not dismiss you like he would others. Let them tangle themselves in a web of speculations and doubts. Jean enjoys few things more than people choking on their own words. A rope of their own fashioning is poetic justice, he used to tell you.

He reaches for the Marker, the one damn thing that’s always tied you together, and takes it. A stab pierces your heart to see it in his grasp. Now there’s nothing between you. You don’t doubt his earlier words. It’s unlikely he will want to associate with you in the future after this.

Doesn’t matter now though. You’re likely to be dead by tomorrow, or another few weeks if you’re lucky.

If.

“You knew.”

Your smile is grim. “Of course. I know you better than you think.”

He won’t risk himself for a plan doomed to fail.

You drop your hand but he grabs it before it can fall back to your side. This time his kiss is different. Hungrier, simmering with some desperation you’ve only caught glimpses of a few times in the past. A silent war in him you’ve never been able to decipher. Jean cups one of your cheeks, leaning over your at an angle that’s unlikely to be comfortable with your height difference but you savour it all the same. His heat. His presence. The burn of his stubble scratching against your skin. More, more, more. You want every last bit of him.

You’ve never noticed how safe a man this dangerous makes you feel. After Tokyo, Chicago, after the desert, after everything you’ve been through, you never thought you’d ever feel like this again.

Alive.

For being no better than glaciers, cold and merciless, nothing burns better than him.

His nose nudges against your cheek—it’s too big, you put that nose any closer to me and you might take an eye out—his arm, an iron band around your waist. Jean is never shy about his touches, he knows exactly how every inch of you trembles and shudders. He’s spent endless hours familiarising himself with every inch of you after all. You hate how you feel a silent goodbye in every second of your body curled against his now.

“Come with me,” he says, and it borders on a snarl, a demand. “Arrêter… this stupidity now and come with me. My web goes far and wide. I could hide you.”

“And go where?” you wonder softly, leaning into his touch, his thumb stroking your cheek despite the chipped bite of his native tongue. You’re desperate for another few seconds with him.

You never thought you would miss him this much, that you would ache so much at the mere thought of never seeing him again.

“Anywhere, vipère,” he drawls, tugging you closer as if he’s a hair away from throwing you over his shoulder and disappearing into the unknown. For a single second, you want him to. “The world is ours. A beach. You and me, and a whole lot of naked skin,” he continues with a seductive grin you feel against your face.

Seduction—his preferred weapon of choice. You wonder if you’re imagining the harder bite of his voice and meaner grip of his hands, as if he needs to convince you to abandon everything and disappear.

Your closed eyes flutter open, meeting his earnest stare. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him more earnest in all the years you’ve known him.

“I want to,” you tell him, leaning closer to kiss him once, softly. His muscles tighten and you half expect him to flinch away from it because it’s not lust you’re kissing him with, and he knows this. He’s too good not to recognise it. Leaning back, your breaths still mingle, and you inhale his cologne, “But I’m done running, Jean. One way or another. This ends. Now go. I don’t need you anymore.”

He pulls back, his smile cool, caustic. “You’re still a terrible liar, amante.”

The golden Marker disappears inside his pocket. Out of sight.

“I do believe there’s more left for me to teach,” he drawls deliberately, his smile smoothing into something more enticing, crooked as it is sly. “I’ll be seeing you, V.”

There’s no question there. You don’t have the heart to inform him you’re unlikely to ever see each other again.

When no one can locate Jean in his room or reach him over the phone the next morning, you simply tell others to stop looking and focus.

It’s better this way anyway.

At least this way one of you gets to live.

#original writing #spilled prose #original prose #oc x reader #oc writing #writing #s: almost love #c: jean

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docholligay · 3 years

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Hi Doc! I'm looking to buy a nice wine to celebrate with tonight and I've got about $100 set aside for it. Is that enough to buy a good wine with, or should I splurge a little more? I'm not necessarily looking for a high alcohol content, but I'm not afraid of that either; I'm looking for something that tastes lovely and goes well with fish. Do you have any recommendations?

Wine Anon: Ok so I consulted my co-celebrator and here are some answers!

I thought we were doing a fancy dinner but we're getting a bunch of sushi with some appetizers (edamame, maybe some oysters.) We aren't doing dessert with dinner tonight. We are eventually going to do a 3 course dinner with dessert, and we will be getting several bottles so I'll def have to come back to you for that!

I'm very new to wine, I know that I like rosé and some sweet whites? The last white that I got that I liked was a pear wine from Olive Garden (I know, I am the Haruka of my relationship.) It was actually the wine that convinced me to not give up on trying new wines! I think I'd only had a few up until then and they were dreadful. I think I don't like dry?

Wine comments from my so: dry, woody, not sweet, not leggy, anything he can taste the tannins in is a no-go so no reds? He favors white but he won't say no to a good rosé. His first wine love was a 5y Sauvignon Blanc he had at a some fancy rich dude's party when he was 17 so he can't recall the name haha. He mentioned New Zealand and Chilean wines were good.

If it comes down to it, I don't mind getting a good bottle heavily favoring his tastes (we're doing this for him) but if you can think of 2 bottles that we'd both separately like, I wouldn't mind that either.

Thank you so much for your help!

First of all, congrats to your mancandy for knowing the difference between tannic and dry. There's a huge misconception that dry means tannic, and they're totally different things. I assume it's because tannins have a sort of dryish feel in the mouth. Anyhow, I DO want to argue the fact that reds are exclusively tannic--there are plenty of low tannin reds--but that's another post, as red wouldn't really go with what you were eating unless we were really trying to make it stretch.

Secondly, all of this assumes that you have no interest whatsoever in sake. I LOVE sake, and it's my always go to for sushi, and my frequent go-to for light fish dishes in general. But it's not super accessible, and some (wrong) people flat do not like it.

Thirdly THANK YOU SO MUCH for just giving me a goddamn number!! My least favorite word on EARTH is "affordable." It's meaningless. Just tell me your number! I may not be able to HELP you, but I won't JUDGE you. For anything you need help finding. So bless you, and it was a MAJOR reason I decided to answer this. Whites tend to be cheaper (unless they are Champagne) for a wide variety of reasons, so I don’t think MUCH on this list will hit about 35-40.

A note: Unless something is WIDELY available commercially, I just recommend TYPES of wine. I would go into your local wine store and ask for these varietals, depending on which one you choose. They may even be able to help select one to go with fish!

So for him, I DO recommend a Sauvignon Blanc, or another high acid wine. The fish used in sushi is mostly fatty and rich, for fish, and these high acid wines give a real element of freshness and even slightly of salt.

You want to know one of my favorite SBs? It's actually something you can get at the goddamn COSTCO, Kim Crawford SB. I don't know if I would call it an OCCASION wine, depending on how we think of things, but it is special enough to be a Shabbat wine in my family, I think you can get it in most grocery stores, and it never disappoints.

If you want SB, but not though, I'd go with a Fume Blanc, which is one of my favorite wines no one seems to know. Fume Blanc is SB, honestly, but made in the US, and pretty much always highly oaky and dry. I love it, but I love that oak shit. Fume Blanc is hard to find nowadays, because of declining knowledge of the name, winemakers are just labeling stuff " Sauvignon Blanc" which, yeah, it's the same grape, but I like to know which SBs have seen some oak, you know? Anyway, I like the rich oakiness paired with salmon rolls especially!

If you want to go with something TOTALLY different that I think he'd like, I think that a Muscadet is going to have a lot of those same flavors while giving him something different. It's BONE DRY, and the acids from it are going to give a lot of those same pleasant associations as SB. A good Muscadet is probably the most expensive thing on this list.

My favorite budget sushi wine, period, is Ovum Big Salt. You are not looking for budget wine, but if you ever are like me and eating buy one get one half off rolls while reading a book, I love Big Salt. It's a Riesling-Gewurztraminer (Somehow I doubt I spelt that second one correctly) blend that legitimately has strong salt overtones. It's also great with coconut shrimp. (Come to think of it, dry Riesling would be a good pairing with this, too)

For you!

Sweeter wines are tougher to pair with sushi than his tastes, but that shouldn't say at all that it's impossible! If you like something labeled pear wine at the Olive Garden (ahahahaha I'm sorry but ahahaha) the wines you like are probably not just sweet in a WINE sense, but probably TRULY sweet.

So I'm going to push you a little bit! These are sweet in the wine category, or if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t eat a lot of sugar, but they aren’t like...fucking moscato or something. A bit more refined, a bit more elegant, and a good way to move into developing your palate, while not being OVERTLY challenging for a newbie.

My wife is at times (often) a Haruka Lite, just one calorie, and moving her to a better and wider palate, I’ve had a lot of luck with bubbles. I think because they are widely fun in their own right, and give another quality to what might otherwise be a too-straight-on glass of wine, so that’s the direction I went here.

Prosecco, specifically a demi-sec. Demi-sec is the sweetest variety of prosecco, and I confess I give this to you more to try and put you on the path of expanding your wine palate than as a specific pairing--like I said, sweets are hard--and you’ll almost certainly need to go to a wine shop to find a version that is both demi-sec and GOOD, which is doable but not easily accessible*.

Now if you want something I ACTUALLY think goes with sushi, I recommend Cremant. Cremant is champagne, made in France, not made IN Champagne. It’s the same shit. It offers a lot of the complexity and delight of Champagne without the cost (Champagne is ALSO a lovely choice! But I generally recommend that if you’re both drinking the same bottle.) I think it’s one of the greatest secrets of the wine world--it’s not like the French terroir outside of Champagne sucks. You will almost certainly have to get this in a wine shop, as it’s not well known by people casually (which is a goddamn shame) in America--the UK tends to have a wider range of them.

I L O V E Cremant. Love. A favorite bubbly. Maybe my favorite, actually? I mean I love Chapagne but like, I have a baby and a mortgage and a budget. And Champagne goes great with sushi! Cremant is, I find, a little less intense than Champagne, which I think will be really good for you as a “beginner” and also the price point tends to be SO APPROACHABLE. Anyway on this one I actually DO have a couple brand recs, because this a thing I drink A LOT, and I’m going to break my ruling about not reccing certain brands ahaha.

J. Laurens Cremant de Limoux --I think this bottle is like 20 bucks locally? It IS more Brut (dry) but I still think it’s really nice, with a citrusy quality that pairs really good with richer fish

Kuentz-Bas Cremant d'Alsace-- I fucking love this bottle. It’s 25, I think, bucks, at my local wine shop. It’s almost...creamy? I know that sounds insane but I can’t think of a better word. I love Alsatian wine in general though. This is a really nice, light wine that I think pairs with TONS of stuff, and would be good with a wide variety of sushi styles.

I had a really amazing Rosé Cremant years ago that had a quality of sweetness to it, but I bought it in a goddamn Tesco in London and so I DOUBT you can find it here. I have it written down in my travel journal though, I think.

ANYWAY I HOPE THIS HELPS SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.

*This puts me in mind of the One Good Moscato I have ever had, at Alinea (in and of it itself one of the highlights of my life) where it was still too sweet for me personally, but I could recognize the complexity and mastery in the glass. I was shit shocked. Someone remind me to ask @keyofjetwolf what it was, I think she wrote it down, and as I recall it was not a spendy bottle, even.

#I need a tag for food stuff #I guess I'll just reblog this to the side blog #I love that this blog started off as a gay fic blog #and now has a huge food component #I just realized this says tonight and is no longer useful to you #SORRY MY BABY HAD SHOTS IT TOOK ME TWO DAYS TO FINISH THIS

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bugsweirdworld · 4 years

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May I make a request for an ask..? So let’s say hypothetically that when a human is around the Skeletons for a while, that they end up developing a heat cycle just like the Skellies do. But they don’t totally understand what is happening to them so they’re freaking out a little the first time it happens, locking themselves away in their room and not letting anyone in. How do you think US Blue and Stretch, UF Edge, and FS Wine would help them through it?

There’s a little informational drabble kind of thing to go at the beginning to set the scene. I only did the Underswap bros this time since I ended up writing so much for them, sorry! If you really want headcanons for the others, feel free to send another request! Thanks for understanding 🥰

Also, this is incredibly long so it’s under the cut!

Underswap brothers’ s/o goes into sympathy heat

DRABBLE/CONTEXT TO SET THE SCENE:

When you first started living with the skeletons, you didn’t know much about monsters in general, much less specific kinds and it was slightly intimidating.

Over time, you began to notice more and more unusual things about them, such as, their magic and how each skeleton’s was different. Whether colour, taste, smell, etc... not one was exactly the same even though they’re alternate versions of each other. For some of them, certain parts of their cultures were even similar to that of a wolf pack. and although it felt sorta racist to think so, you couldn’t help but wonder if they had some sort of animalistic instincts.

You realised you were right when you first heard them growling at each other. Over time, some started to become more territorial, some were possesive, but basically all of them were not only clingier, but hornier too. Although it was actually kinda hot, it was definitely leading up to something big...

It was around that time when you learned that the skeleton boys went through heats about 3 times a year. Only one problem, nobody realised that it would start affecting you over time too...

SKELETONS’ RESPONSES:

Blue (us!sans): The first thing Blue noticed was the change in your physical behaviour. In the past few days you had become increasingly tense and fidgety but he knew that (if you have one) your period wasn’t due for a while, so it couldn’t be that. When it became apparent that he wasn’t the only one who noticed changes, a “family meeting” was held. Although it felt wrong without you there, they couldn’t really talk about you with you in the room, could they??

After realising what was truly going on, Blue couldn’t help but feel excited.

Although, he was worried you were in pain and kinda confused on how this whole thing happened, he knew this was not only a chance for the two of you to explore sexually but also to become closer/get to know each other as mates even better!

People tend to look at Blue in a child-like sort of way, but he’s actually a naughty boy and is really looking forward to being your knight in shinning armour, coming to save you by giving you good sex like you deserve *WINK WINK*.

Oh, and if you want to play up the desperate, lust-consumed act he won’t mind at all... he might even have to restrain you a bit since you’re “loosing” control 😂😉 that’s one of the fantasies he’s been thinking of during your sympathy heat.

He just can’t help but imagine it; him coming up to your room, ready to soothe you but you’re getting more and more desperate, trying to grind on him while he helps you. Whining and crying, you wouldn’t be able stop yourself from leaning in to steal kiss after kiss.

Eventually, your advances would become too much and he’d have to gently tie you up so he can finish helping. Crooning deeply in his chest in an attempt to calm your attitude, Blue realises that it’s only getting worse. In the end, the only solution is to bang it out of you 👀...

HOWEVER, that’s only if he knows your hamming it up. If you’re truly feeling/acting this way he would become a bit overwhelmed and worried. He wouldn’t be quite sure what is acceptable behaviour and what isn’t since he’s only ever experienced this from the FULL heat SKELETON side of things.

If all goes well though, the idea of you wanting him so desperately, craving him so intensely makes his soul swell... He loves you, you adorable whiney, horny, little baby you!!

He’s probably gunna tell you that over and over again too, but he’ll totally respect if you’re not ready for that.

ALSO, Blue wants to make sure the morals and important decisions you’ve made about being sexual (and this situation in particular) STICK, he doesn’t want you to break them because of... compelling circumstances. They’re too important after all! 🥺🥰

Another of his mini fantasies would be feeding you food laced with his magic.

Although Blue doesn’t really have a feeding kink, when you go into sympathy heat his instincts are screaming at him to keep you fed and the idea of gently crooning to you while feeding you this specially prepared food becomes increasingly appealing.

Knowing that he’s satisfying you as a mate (in more ways than one) sorta riles him up...

The main idea he’s worked up is; Coercing you to stay upstairs as he comes down to the kitchen and starts making food for you, feeling some of the pulses your soul is giving off. While making the food, he’d be thinking about running his hand through your hair and pulling slightly so you’d tilt your head back, giving him access to gently open your mouth with his fingers and get you to eat what he made you.

The magic leaving his soul would have a new purpose and leave light tremors coursing through his body. Eventually he’d come back up stairs and act out these thoughts and although his magic is sating your physical hunger, Blue can clearly see how you’ve melted into a resting state of lust... can humans really make those ahego faces? He hopes so!

If you don’t want to have sex or anything he’s ok with holding off, even though the hormones from your sympathy heat are sending him all out of whack.

His favourite less sexual ways to touch you are holding your hands or touching your knees, ankles or thighs.

Blue relishes in anytime he gets to hold you and will attempt to soothe you in many ways.

Some of these ways would be; baths (together, pls..?), doing basically everything for you, carrying you around, making you food with magic in it (not just any magic, but HIS!

Purring/crooning, and helping you work off sexual frustration, whether through things like exercise or even helping you (*cough cough* instructing you on how) to get off are also some things he’d do!

The same goes for if he notices you’re hiding away.

He’ll try and coerce you into letting him in or for you to come out for a minute. He wants to make sure you’re feed and safe, he can’t do that if you won’t let him in! He knows it’s scary, but he also knows that he can help you get through it. Beware though, once he interacts with you he’s not gunna want you to leave the room. He’ll go get anything you need! Besides, who knows what bad things the others could do to you!? HE’S the one who can take care of you the best anyways! Right...?

Overall, Blue’s very attentive during your sympathy heat and can’t wait to play 😉.

“Awww, Don’t Whimper, Dearheart... Come Closer For Me, I Won’t Bite. I Just Wish To Hold You, You’re Safe With Me.”

“You Obviously Can’t Control Yourself, My Love... Must I Do It For You?”

Stretch (us!papyrus): One of the first things Stretch noticed was your smell. Although, this was something all of them could sense, he says he was the first. Originally he thought it was your period, the smell and hormonal change from that affects them anyways, their souls seeming to think its some sort of mini-heat. However, once he realised this situation was different (and much more alluring) Stretch formed an idea of what was really going on and told Sans, who agreed and then decided to hold a “family meeting” after you had left for the day.

Once Stretch’s suspicions were confirmed, he wasn’t really sure how to react. On one hand, he was worried how your human body will react to a heat (something it’s not necessarily designed to have) and feeling possessive over you.

Stretch may be a patient guy, but sometimes jealousy rears it’s head and he can’t help but think about having you all to himself.

Because of how his soul is reacting to the situation his instincts are going a bit haywire and that jealousy becomes possessiveness. However, since it’s just his soul reacting to your “heat” and not his, these instincts aren’t nearly as strong as they would be, but they’re still there.

The idea of touching you and being able to claim you for the others to sense fills him with pride and lust. He wants you to pick him to mate with and likes the size difference between the two of you right now.

However, he does tend to feel guilty about some of his motives and how they come across. He doesn’t want you to feel like you’re being used, so he makes sure to spend time worshiping you.

Two of the yummy ideas he has during these odd times are; Being in the living room with everyone when your sympathy heat starts acting up again and whining for him to help you, picking him out of all the others, even though they’re trying to dote on you. In this moment he crawls over to you, giving little growls/chuffs towards any of the boys who try and stop him as he leans down and laps at your intimate areas while the others watch on. It’s their choice whether to leave or not, but he’s staying to help his pretty little mate be satisfied

The other would be something along the lines of; you’re tired and don’t think you can handle another round, but you want to be close to him. Stretch sits up slightly against the headboard/wall and spreads his legs, pulling you to lay betweeen then, your back against his chest. His large form made obvious in how your head just reaches the middle of his rib cage, butt resting snuggly in the junction where his long legs extend from his pelvis. He can’t help but croon in your ear as he touches you. Accidentally rubbing against his “boner” as you wriggle around and arch your back, his long arms continue to spread your legs.

Naturally, if Stretch notices that you’re hiding away, he becomes worried for you. However, he knows how you feel, so he gives you time to yourself.

He’ll come and check on you every so often, but if you start refusing to see him because of reasons he thinks are weak? Well, he’ll eventually just resort to shortcutting into your room. Ignoring the problem will not make it go away, he knows this from the many times he has tried it.

If you truly didn’t want to have sex he would understand, but would still try and coerce you into partaking in other sexual activities, all the while being careful not to cross any lines. He would never force you into doing anything but he knows that it would make things so much easier on you and help the situation be much less problematic. He doesn’t want you to be in pain + it would feel good for both of you.

Not only that, but it’s also a good “bonding exercise” as Blue put it. It’s a win win! And although Blue didn’t appreciate Stretch’s laughter when he noticed the unintentional pun (bonding lol), it was funny none the less!

Stretch isn’t nearly as strict as Blue when it comes to keeping you in your room. Matter of fact, Stretch actually likes to take you with him sometimes when he goes to get things, carrying you on his hip as you cuddle into the crook of his neck.

He still likes you to stay away from the others a bit but that’s mostly because he doesn’t want them to do anything to you. He wants to be one the one to do things/allow them to do things to you.

During your sympathy heat, Stretch will do his best to keep you happy.

Although he won’t be at your every beckon call he’ll try his best, such as; going to get things for you, taking you places you need to go, helping you bathe and get dressed, watching movies will you, playing video games with you, even reading to you and more.

He probably won’t cook for you but he’s totally down for getting junk food and take out whenever your little heart desires 🥰.

In a way, he sees this as an opportunity to be domestic with you since he knows he can seem a bit stand off-ish or disconnected sometimes. He may think that you don’t want to spend all that much time with him because of it, but that’s not always true and he knows it.

Overall, Stretch is really sexually open yet slightly possessive during this time and wants to be domestic with you while making the others jealous of your sex-capades.

“Hey, Honey... don’t be scared, ya know I just wanna help. If bein’ sexual ain’t your thing right now, that’s ok. Curl up a lil’ closer, I wanna lay you on my chest.”

“Mmmm... I know Honey, I know, I can smell your slick from here. Poor little thing, I’ll take care a’ya. The others can watch if they want, as long as they know you’re whimpering for ME...”

#bugwrites #undertale #underswap #us!sans #blue #us!papyrus #stretch #heat #undertale headcanon #fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans x reader #papyrus x reader #suggestive #bugreplies

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foodreceipe · 3 years

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The Science Behind Your Cheap Wine 🍷

How advances in bottling, fermenting and taste-testing are democratizing a once-opaque liquid.

Smithsonian Magazine 🍷 Ben Panko

To develop the next big mass-market wine, winemakers first hone flavor using focus groups, then add approved flavoring and coloring additives to make the drink match up with what consumers want.

We live in a golden age of wine, thanks in part to thirsty millennials and Americans seemingly intent on out-drinking the French. Yet for all its popularity, the sommelier's world is largely a mysterious one. Bottles on grocery store shelves come adorned with whimsical images and proudly proclaim their region of origin, but rarely list ingredients other than grapes. Meanwhile, ordering wine at a restaurant can often mean pretending to understand terms like "mouthfeel," "legs" or "bouquet."

"I liked wine the same way I liked Tibetan hand puppetry or theoretical particle physics," writes journalist Bianca Bosker in the introduction to her 2017 book Cork Dork, "which is to say I had no idea what was going on but was content to smile and nod."

Curious about what exactly happened in this shrouded world, Bosker took off a year and a half from writing to train to become a sommelier, and talk her way into wine production facilities across the country. In the end, Bosker learned that most wine is nowhere near as “natural” as many people think—and that scientific advances have helped make cheap wine nearly as good as the expensive stuff.

"There's an incredible amount we don't understand about what makes wine—this thing that shakes some people to the core," Bosker says. In particular, most people don't realize how much chemistry goes into making a product that is supposedly just grapes and yeast, she says. Part of the reason is that, unlike food and medicines, alcoholic beverages in the U.S. aren't covered by the Food and Drug Administration. That means winemakers aren't required to disclose exactly what is in each bottle; all they have to reveal is the alcohol content and whether the wine has sulfites or certain food coloring additives.

In Cork Dork, published by Penguin Books, Bosker immerses herself in the world of wine and interviews winemakers and scientists to distill for the average drinking person what goes into your bottle of pinot. "One of the things that I did was to go into this wine conglomerate [Treasury Wine Estates] that produces millions of bottles of wine per year," Bosker says. "People are there developing wine the way flavor scientists develop the new Oreo or Doritos flavor."

For Treasury Wine Estates, the process of developing a mass-market wine starts in a kind of “sensory insights lab," Bosker found. There, focus groups of professional tasters blind-sample a variety of Treasury’s wine products. The best ones are then sampled by average consumers to help winemakers get a sense of which “sensory profiles” would do best in stores and restaurants, whether it be “purplish wines with blackberry aromas, or low-alcohol wines in a pink shade," she writes.

From these baseline preferences, the winemakers take on the role of the scientist, adding a dash of acidity or a hint of red to bring their wines in line with what consumers want. Winemakers can draw on a list of more than 60 government-approved additives that can be used to tweak everything from color to acidity to even thickness.

Then the wines can be mass-produced in huge steel vats, which hold hundreds of gallons and are often infused with oak chips to impart the flavor of real oaken barrels. Every step of this fermentation process is closely monitored, and can be altered by changing temperature or adding more nutrients for the yeast. Eventually, the wine is packaged on huge assembly lines, churning out thousands of bottles an hour that will make their way to your grocery store aisle and can sometimes sell for essentially the same price as bottled water.

"This idea of massaging grapes with the help of science is not new," Bosker points out. The Romans, for example, added lead to their wine to make it thicker. In the Middle Ages, winemakers began adding sulfur to make wines stay fresh for longer.

However, starting in the 1970s, enologists (wine scientists) at the University of California at Davis took the science of winemaking to new heights, Bosker says. These entrepreneurial wine wizards pioneered new forms of fermentation to help prevent wine from spoiling and produce it more efficiently. Along with the wide range of additives, winemakers today can custom order yeast that will produce wine with certain flavors or characteristics. Someday soon, scientists might even build yeast from scratch.

Consumers most commonly associate these kinds of additives with cheap, mass-produced wines like Charles Shaw (aka "Two Buck Chuck") or Barefoot. But even the most expensive red wines often have their color boosted with the use of "mega-red" or "mega-purple" juice from other grape varieties, says Davis enologist Andrew Waterhouse. Other common manipulations include adding acidity with tartaric acid to compensate for the less acidic grapes grown in warmer climates, or adding sugar to compensate for the more acidic grapes grown in cooler climates.

Tannins, a substance found in grape skins, can be added to make a wine taste "drier" (less sweet) and polysaccharides can even be used to give the wine a "thicker mouthfeel," meaning the taste will linger more on the tongue.

When asked if there was any truth to the oft-repeated legend that cheap wine is bound to give more headaches and worse hangovers, Waterhouse was skeptical. "There's no particular reason that I can think of that expensive wine is better than cheap wine," Waterhouse says. He adds, however, that there isn't good data on the topic. "As you might suspect, the [National Institutes of Health] can't make wine headaches a high priority," he says.

Instead, Waterhouse suggests, there may be a simpler explanation: "It's just possible that people tend to drink more wine when it's cheap.”

While this widespread use of additives may make some natural-foods consumers cringe, Bosker found no safety or health issues to worry about in her research. Instead, she credits advancements in wine science with improving the experience of wine for most people by "democratizing quality." "The technological revolution that has taken place in the winery has actually elevated the quality of really low-end wines," Bosker says.

The main issue she has with the modern wine industry is that winemakers aren’t usually transparent with all of their ingredients—because they don’t have to be. "I find it outrageous that most people don't realize that their fancy Cabernet Sauvignon has actually been treated with all kinds of chemicals," Bosker says.

Yet behind those fancy labels and bottles and newfangled chemical manipulation, the biggest factor influencing the price of wine is an old one: terroir, or the qualities a wine draws from the region where it was grown. Famous winemaking areas such as Bordeaux, France, or Napa Valley, California, can still land prices 10 times higher than just as productive grape-growing land in other areas, says Waterhouse. Many of these winemakers grow varieties of grapes that produce less quantity, but are considered by winemakers to be far higher quality.

"Combine the low yield and the high cost of the land, and there's a real structural difference in the pricing of those wines," Waterhouse says. Yet as winemakers continue to advance the science of making, cultivating and bottling this endlessly desirable product, that may soon change. After all, as Bosker says, "wine and science have always gone hand in hand."

Ben Panko is a staff writer for Smithsonian.com

👉 https://getpocket.com/explore/item/the-science-behind-your-cheap-wine?utm_source=pocket-newtab

More from Smithsonian Magazine

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It’s the Umami, Stupid. Why the Truth About MSG is So Easy to Swallow

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🍷 🍷 🍷

#wine #🍷#Science #Cheap Wine

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt. 2

a/n: I AM GARBAGE FOR THIS MAN. HE IS VILE AND MERCILESS BUT IF HE ISNT CRAZY... HES A CLASSY AND WELL-SPOKEN BIRD BOY. ehem on with the second part ehem

warnings: cursing

Links: part 1, part 3

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

The night was now settled and you were locked in your room. Papers and folders all spread out on your desk and bed. If you were to venture into this case, you would have to know the details you had missed out on.

By now, your butt was aching and so did your back. Glancing at the other piles of folders, you counted how many cases you were working on at the same time. If there was one thing the chief loved to give you, it was more work than you could finish.

As of the moment, you were in charge of 9 other cases. Some related to large scale companies and others identity frauds. Though the cases were now generic for the 6 years you’d been working with the force, it was and will always be draining.

This mission with Overhaul felt like a breath of fresh air. The risks presented here were much higher compared to normal but you were more than prepared, at least you hoped you were. Truth be told, this wouldn’t be the first time you teamed up with a villain. That was your secret as to why you moved up so fast. Every now and then, you would propose a compromisation and in turn they would help you catch your target. You did, however, avoid this as much as possible.

Ruffling your hair, you gathered the mess and prepared for Gei’s arrival.

When he did arrive, the solemnity of your apartment faded. And you did not mind one bit.

“BABY GIRL!” He twirled his neon pink purse in the air as he entered himself into your apartment. His other hand carried the necessities for the night. “Okay. I got the food and the booze. I also bought my silk pajamas we use for occasions like this.”

“Mine are ready. Don’t worry.” You giggled at the sight of a toned man unloading the contents of the bag with a pinky up. “I also prepared the movies we could watch for tonight. AND, I already informed Nao to not call me for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, alright, mhmm. Imma go change into my silkies and you do you.” He said as he trotted towards the guest room. When the door closed, you began to prepare the dinner you had planned for the both of you.

Gei was never a picky eater but it was always a challenge to make sure he was well fed. Compared to you, his eating habits were much more constant. Healthier even since he usually counted his calories because he wanted to keep his waist ‘snatched’. He had told you beforehand that he was in the mood for some chicken. Luckily, you had the ingredients for grilled bruschetta chicken.

Prepping everything, you began to heat your tiny grill and sliced the tomatoes and garlic. The sound of the chopping eventually replaced with the speakers blasting Todrick Hall. Shaking your head with amusement, you went about with the preparations while your friend arranged the sofa.

Not long after, dinner was now ready and both of you were now seated at the dining table. Chatting about whatever came to your heads. A few gossips of heroes here and there but mostly about your work and his. Sip by sip, the wine bottle slowly emptied. Gei always knew the best wines out there. You would always praise him and he would merely pout his lips and wiggle his brows.

Stomachs full, Gei demanded he do the dishes while you wait for him at the sofa. It had been quite some time since you took the time off. Stretching your joints, you gathered your hair into a messy bun and dusted off imaginary dust on your silk pajamas. Taking some bowls from underneath the coffee table, you filled them up with chips and placed the wine inside the chiller. When everything seemed ready, you flopped back onto the sofa and turned the TV on.

A knock on your door caused you to jump a bit. Looking at the clock, it was now 9pm. Grabbing your phone, there were no messages or missed calls. You also didn’t recall ordering anything this week. Walking towards the door, you took a look at Gei who was finishing up the last of the plates.

Looking through the peephole, you let out a rather loud gasp.

“Oh fuck no.” You took a step backward and ran towards the kitchen. Grabbing Gei by his wrist, you pulled him out of his trance and dragged him to the living room. Practically throwing him to the sofa, he stared at you with wide eyes.

“Boo, I know your as virgin as the spinster next door but I am a gay man and I do not intend on taking you tonight.” He commented.

“He’s here.”

Another knock filled the room. It was still soft but a bit louder than before.

“Girl?! Did you call in Magic Mike?!” He began to bounce up and down while fanning himself.

“More like Germaphobe Gus.” You motioned for him to stay on the couch and remain quiet. Walking towards the door once more, you slowly opened it only to be met with the bird mask again. The green jacket and purple fur did not compliment his eyes. “What can I do, Overhaul? You could’ve dropped me a message you know.”

“I have something to discuss with you.” His eyes travelled behind you and back at you. “May I come in? Or do I have to usher myself?”

Stuttering a response, you grunted and moved to the side. The towering man slowly made his way in. Taking in the rather luxurious decorating your small hallway had to offer. Waiting for you to take the lead, you led him to the living room. When your eyes met with Gei, you signalled him to head on to the guest room.

Understanding what you meant, Gei took his wine glass and cat walked to his room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the tall man behind you. Making a gesture with his hand, he threw his imaginary wig and winked at you. He was no idiot, though. He knew who it was. For precautions, he left his door 3 inches open.

“That’s why you should’ve told me, Overhaul.” You gestured for him to sit down. When you saw his eye twitching at the spot you pointed to, you let out a sigh and reached for the fur patch behind you. Putting it on the spot, you watched as he stared at the tan material. “That has been newly laundered so I guarantee it’s clean. Now either you develop varicose veins or sit down. I could care less.”

He finally took a seat. This was a rare sight, you had to admit. Overhaul, a class-B villain, sitting on a fur rug while staring at a bottle of wine.

“So what do you have?”

“The boss of the Fukuo Kai will be attending a gala in 3 days time.”

“And you got that how?” You raised a brow and tilted your head.

“None of your business.” He leaned on the sofa and his eyes began to wander every inch your place had to offer. “I’ll have Mimic send the invitation when we get a hold of it. You will be informing your partner about this, right?”

“Yeah. I have to.” You nodded and eyed his bird mask again. “Do you always wear that thing?”

“It’s to block the horrid air the world has to offer.” He said in a deadpan voice. You wanted to laugh at his remark but it would probably lead to nothing good. Stifling a giggle, his eyes darted to yours. “Laugh if it pleases you. The world we live in is vile and sick. People have this so-called hero-syndrome to them that makes me want to puke. Tch. To think that quirks come from rats.”

“You do know that’s only a theory, right?” You did not mean to challenge him but he was interesting to talk to, admittedly.

“It’s a theory that disgusts me to the core.” He was about to say something but changed his mind. Instead, he decided to shift the focus to you. “You talk so casually with me. Aren’t you scared? I could send you to oblivion with a single flick of my finger.”

“I guess I’m immune to it?” You answered with a question. “I’ve been with the police force for 6 years now and I’ve had my fair share of villains. You know Kuraim? That dude who thought he could take over Nagoya with his little group?”

“He was annoying. He came into contact with the previous boss and asked for assistance. When he was declined he took out a few of our men.”

“Oh shit, that was your group! I totally forgot about that. But, yeah. He was a nutjob but my team managed to capture him a week after that.”

“Your name wasn’t featured in the news. It was another inspector’s. Why?” His fingers were not linked with each other and his back leaning on the plush throw pillow.

“I’m linked with the Abegawa Tenchu Kai. If my name gets released to the public, those nosy reporters would definitely put two and two together. I prefer to keep it low key though. Less media, the better.”

“I see.” He stood up and bowed. “I must get going. I have disturbed your evening.”

“IT’S FINE BABY BOY!” Gei shouted from the room. Face palming at his remark, you took Overhaul by the end of his jacket. Your index and thumb delicately tugging him towards your door.

His eyes widened when he saw you holding his clothes. But with how clean your apartment was, he brushed it off and let you do things your way. Though, he would have to burn this jacket or dispose of it one way or another. Not noticing you had turned around, his face still had that perplexed yet pissed off look to it.

Realizing that you were invading his personal space, you apologized and let go of the inch of fabric you had held on to.

“You’re surely going to throw that, aren’t you?” You teased. A small smirk forming in the corners of your mouth.

“I just might.” He retorted as he stared with disgust. A thought came to his mind. “Or not.”

Taking his jacket off, you stared at how his broad shoulders moved as he removed the article of clothing. The black dress shirt hugged his toned arms rather well. The pale gray tie around his neck matched his overall appearance pretty well. He had taste, save for the jacket. Unless that jacket had sentimental value so it would make sense why.

Your sight turned black for a second before you were face to face with him. The rather heavy jacket resting on your forearms.

‘Holy hell, his cologne smells divine.’ You cursed yourself for breathing in at the perfect time. Either the wine was hitting you but his scent reminded you of mayoram and geranium. Exotic and expensive.

“Keep it.” You swore he was smirking underneath that mask. “Either that or I overhaul it.”

“For an antisocial person, you sure know how to charm people…” You thought out loud.

“Not really. I’m just putting it to where it belongs.” He opened the door for himself. “The garbage.”

Your jaw dropped and before you could retaliate, he had closed the door. Locking your doors harshly, you went back towards the living room and were met with Gei. One leg resting on the other. The same glass of wine on his hand accompanied with a rather mischievous glint in his gray eyes. Taking a sip, he exaggerated ‘ahh’ after swallowing the beverage.

“You into villains now, booboo?” He teased as he pointed to the same spot Overhaul had sat down on. The way you flopped on the sofa and tossed the jacket on to the arm rest only made him even more curious. “You’re working with Overhaul?”

His tone was serious but you knew he was in full gossip mode. You didn’t mind telling Gei these things though. He knew how to protect himself and your dad also kept tabs on him to make sure he was safe.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. The mission I’m currently partaking involves that guy you just saw.” You explained. Absentmindedly, you reached for the jacket and began feeling for any sort of recording chips or video cameras. Deeming it safe, you placed it beside you and began to twirl the purple fur. “I get why they're doing this but it just sucks that I have to meddle with the yakuza. It’s none of my business and it puts my job at risk.”

“What does Nao-nao say about all this?”

“He says I’m the only one fit for the job. I’ve caught up on the details they gathered and he makes a point, sadly. My only problem now is the person I have to work with. It’s a miracle in itself I keep my grounds with him.”

“What personality does he have?” He took a sip of his wine and leaned in closer.

“The records I have from a year ago state he’s an antisocial sociopath. I’ve never dealt with a lot of villains who had those. Most of them were just lost or goal driven to a bizarre or lost cause.”

“He was rather smooth when talking to you. He looks clean as well.” He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “He’ll surely see you as a challenge, boo.”

“What do you mean?” You reached for your glass and poured it half full.

“If I recall, during your conversation, he asked you if you were intimidated. Scared. The answer you gave him surely bothered him. It would go against his personality if he were the least intrigued by you.” He pointed out.

Gei had a point. If you saw him as an enigma, he probably saw you as a pawn in his game. One way or another, he would surely make a move and try to manipulate you. Though you were aware of the signs of subtle manipulations, Overhaul had a different way of handling things. This meeting with Gei proved right. You needed to move with greater caution.

“BUT!” He snapped. “He looks like a full course meal, am I right? A five Michelin star meal served in only the finest china the world has to offer.”

Speechless at how he had described Overhaul, you shook your head and took a long sip.

“Don’t sip away from me, missy.” He stretched out his leg and poked you with his curled toes. “Don’t think I didn’t see you checkin’ him out. And I bet my plump ass that wasn’t the first time you eyed him…”

“You’re delusional.” You rolled your eyes.

“What does his jacket smell like? He probably wears some expensive ass shit that lasts 24 hours. Those that only have limited stocks to them or costs the rent of this whole unit.” He pushed you a bit with a little more force with his leg. “Don’t lie to me, dollface.”

Hissing at his remark, you slumped your shoulders and folded your legs. Grabbing the throw pillow and using it as a small table.

“Fine. He smells expensive. You’re right.” You broke down and the smug look on his face only told you to expand your answer. “And yes, I may have checked him out when I went to their headquarters to finalize the plan.”

“And what are you going to do with that jacket of his?” He stretched out his hand and you gave it to him. His mouth formed a small ‘o’ at the weight of it. Sniffing it, he let out a humming sound and placed it on his arm rest. Petting the fur as if it were some small animal. “He does smell like a hefty price tag.”

“I’ll probably just store it somewhere. I might need it in the future.”

“True. You will be extra careful now, won’t you?” He was now staring straight into you. Concern showing in his features. Extending a hand to you, you held on to it and he squeezed it. “Let’s say a silent prayer to our savior, Queen Todrick, to keep your virgin ass safe from the man whom we know as Overhaul. Amen~”

Giggling at his antics, you repeated his last words. The rest of the night was spent watching movies and munching on chips. When the time came where it was close to 4am, the lights were now off and both of you were in your respective rooms. The curtains to your window open. Faint hues of yellows, oranges, and reds, filled your room.

Your eyes landed on the top shelf of your closet, his jacket resting peacefully. The strong intoxicating scent still clung to you. Every breath you took, you could smell him on clothes and your shirt. Brushing the incoming fantasies away, you buried your face in your pillow and somehow managed to force yourself to sleep.

Waking up to the scent of bacon and eggs were heavenly. The small headache would surely disappear after a hearty and greasy breakfast early in the morning. Arranging your sheets, you fixed your hair and went to the kitchen.

“Good morning to you.” Gei greeted. His back facing you as he flipped the bacon. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” You yawned. “Better than most nights. Thanks for crashing, Gei.”

“Always a pleasure, booboo. I also prepped some egg sandwiches for Nao-nao. You are heading to the precinct right?” He glanced at you over his shoulder. A small smile forming on his lips when he saw your half awake half asleep state. The sun’s rays emphasizing the messy strands on your bed hair.

Another knock echoed through your unit. Groaning as to who it could be, you lazily stood up and walked towards the door. Gei peaking in the corner with a suspicion as to who it was. When you opened the door, you frowned and looked at both sides. There was no one.

A small voice cleared their throat. Looking down, you saw a tiny black creature wearing a bird mask. In his hands was an envelope. He kept his word and really did send an invite.

“The boss sent me out to hand this to you.” He tossed the invitation directly at your face. “Better count yourself lucky he’s following your terms.”

“Send him my thanks.”

“Whatever.” He answered as his small feet took him farther away from your door.

Back in your kitchen, Gei had now set the table and laid out the food. He was scrolling on his phone when you sat across from him. Your fingers busy with the square fancy envelope given to you.

“What’s that?” He asked as he put his phone down and began to place food on each of your plates.

“It’s the invitation to that gala he mentioned last night. He sent out one of his workers to hand over this thing.” Your eyes busy scanning over the program details. Taking a look at the envelope, there was a small card. Dropping it on your palm, you saw how it was an RSVP. Flipping it, a small message with neat penmanship told you to call when you would receive it.

Taking your phone from your pocket, you hit dial on the unknown number that had called you yesterday. Gei was all ears as he chewed on his food.

“I take it you received the invitation?” Overhaul immediately asked when he picked up. “I will let you decide as to who your plus one will be. Feel free to call when you’ve chosen.”

“You’re being awfully cooperative, Overhaul.” You commented.

“I lost at the game and I gave you my word. I trust that you will do your end of the bargain as well. If I recall, you stated that this benefits me more than it does to you. Opportunities like this are rare. Might as well take advantage of it while it’s for the taking.” He answered. “Dress appropriately, (Y/N).”

With that he ended the call. Tossing your phone to your couch, you returned the invitation inside the envelope and began eating.

“So…” Gei nudged your leg from under the table. “Who will be your plus one?”

“I’ll have to talk about this with Tsukauchi first. I don’t fully trust him so we’ll be doing some check ups on the people invited to this gala. But, if it soothes you, I plan on using Overhaul. At least his quirk is useful in case something arises.”

“Yeah. Sure~”

----

if you want to be tagged in part 3 :) feel free to leave a comment :)

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #he is garbage but i love him so much #im simpiing hard yall

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

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Title: Love, Maybe? {45}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: None 😊

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

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

Chapter 45: Full Circle

The flashing of the cameras was everywhere and even from inside the limo you could hear the shouting of the paps. It was finally the night you’d worked your ass off for the last few months. Finally, the night to show off your vision, time for you to reap the rewards. You took several breathes trying to calm your nerves in prep for when the car stopped, and you had to step out into the sea of fame. You were nervous.

The last few days you’d had the good fortune to get away for a few days. You, Chris and Ella went to Napa and enjoyed some quiet time away from prying eyes and were able to connect as a family. It was like no time passed at all you fell into sync like it was a normal occurrence. Ella was overjoyed and happily hung all over Chris. From when the sun rose she was glued to his side. You didn’t mind, it was cute to watch, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Once she was snuggly tucked into bed he was yours and he used the time to worship every single inch of your body with precision. Though the two of you easily physically connected it was clear that the two of you would need time to seamlessly fit emotionally. You had no doubt that you’d get there eventually because you knew what you felt for him was real, though it still scared you.

By the time the three of you got back down to LA, most of your nerves were gone and you felt closer to him than you had in a while. When you and Chris broke the news to your family about the divorce being off and an engagement in the works they were over the moon, especially your mother. She must have shouted “thank you sweet baby Jesus” at least ten times. She even confessed to Chris that she was running out of hope that you’d ever get married. He only laughed.

Chris’ family seemed ecstatic when you sat with him for a FaceTime call to clue them in and bring them up to speed. His mother, Lisa could not stop smiling and it almost made you cry to see how they all genuinely looked happy. It was unexpected considering how meeting them had gone.

A soft tap to the glass of the limo brought your attention back to the event. The door opened and one of the ushers helped you out onto the carpet. As soon as you stepped out the cameras flashed blinding you. It took you several moments to adjust and develop a strategy. You slowly walked down the carpet and smiled at the cameras and posed for them to get their shots. They shout your name left and right, it was difficult to look everywhere at once.

When you made it further down the carpet the interviews began.

“Vixen, this is your night. How do you feel?”

“Amazing. I am so excited to be here. Everyone has worked so hard to get to tonight and I can’t wait for everyone to experience it.”

“This is your second restaurant. What would you say is the aesthetic for this one?”

“Ethereal, elegant, comfortable. I really wanted to give diners an experience not just with the food but with the décor and ambiance as well. So this is a whole bring experience and I hope everyone has a good time--an engaging time.”

“I see you have quite a beautiful ring on a particular finger, anything to say about it?”

You looked down to your ring finger at the classic, but expensive engagement ring you wore. Your smile could not be hidden.

“Um, well no. nothing to say about it. Thank you.”

You walked away and continued going down the line of eager reports and paps and answered their questions that was about the restaurant and the night, anything else you graciously evaded. After a few interviews, Kassius joined you for pictures and a few words where he praised your professionalism, eye for detail, skill and grace during the entire project.

After forty minutes your cheeks hurt, and you were more than ready to get things moving. The restaurant was full and loud. You smiled at diners as you passed and thanked people for coming out and posed for pictures. When you made it toward the back you saw your family and Chris and Ella in the middle of them. He wore a sleek wine-colored tux with a bow tie that matched Ella’s white dress with wine colored details. When they saw you, they clapped as you approached. When you got to them you each gave you hugs and congratulated you.

“Mama Yayyyy!” you smiled and kissed Ella all across her face. Chris leaned to you and kissed your cheek.

“I am so proud of you.” You smiled and gazed in his deep blue eyes relishing the flutter of the butterflies in your belly.

“All right, family, I have to get to work. Enjoy dinner.” You smiled and walked off to the kitchen where your staff waited. Once you stepped inside they got quiet.

“Thank you everyone for your efforts that lead to tonight. Thank you for your faith in me and this vision I had, and I appreciate you taking a chance with me on this journey. May it be a fun, fulfilling and lucrative adventure. Are we ready to have fun?”

They clapped and whooped giving you even more confidence then you changed and got to work crafting the dishes that you’d painstakingly put together over the last few months. You were so grateful that everything ran smoothly, there were no accidents, nothing burned, nothing that went wrong. You tried not to think about the reception of the dishes that were sent out, tried not to think of what they were saying in the dining area and tried to remain present in the kitchen and give every dish your all.

Thankfully no one sent anything back, and every pass around the kitchen you made, everyone looked to be completely competent in what they were doing. By the time the kitchen service ended, and you were down to the last few plates of dessert you felt comfortable enough to leave it in the hands of your talented sous chef. You changed again and walked back out to the dining area. You slowly walked around and shook the hands of those who wanted to pay compliments to the chef. You made your rounds and chatted with each of them and thanked them for dining there.

Everyone you spoke with expressed how much they loved the food and the experience the restaurant provided. The praise you received made you embarrassed, but you also felt appreciative for your accomplishment. When you made the turn to another reporter you were caught off guard when Ella tackled into your legs. Bending down you scooped her up and kissed her.

“Hi princess, how are you?”

“Good.”

“How was the food?”

“Yummy.” You smiled and looked back to the reporter.

“A family affair tonight huh.”

“Yes, I have every member of my family here, it’s a beautiful thing.”

“I would definitely call tonight a success. I had the opportunity to taste some incredible things tonight. What was your inspiration?”

“Good food, hearty food, rich foods, I love mixing and matching ingredients to create a whole new thing. I drew inspiration from many different regions, even the islands. I wanted to give the taste buds an experience and I really hope I accomplished that.

“Da-da!”

You looked back and saw Chris approaching. As he walked he drew the attention of everyone around. It was sexy and spoke of his aura. Your bottom teeth sank into your bottom lip. Your eyes drifted to the gold wedding band he wore, and you smiled wider. When he stood just behind you, you felt his arm around your waist. once he was there they continued snapping your pictures. Ella hugged you tightly looking back at Chris who gave her silly faces which she loved.

"What do you think of tonight, Chris?"

“I think this is amazing. I was prepared for quite the experience and I was not disappointed. One thing with this beautiful human she does not disappoint.” You smiled and tried to keep a demure look on your face. you couldn’t lie it felt so good to hear him talk about you like this. It was a first.

"How do you think it turned out?"

“I think it turned out great. She did a wonderful job with everything in here and the food--,” he began giving a chefs kiss with his fingers. “The food was to die for.”

“Yummy food,” Ella reiterated. You smiled and kissed her again.

"Rumor is you're married. Any comment?" Chris locked eyes with you then smiled a full smile, one that you mirrored before you pinched your lips.

“Tonight is about her and what an amazing accomplishment this is for her and all she's worked for in her career. This place is incredible, and the food was outstanding. So, the only thing I'll say is we’re happily married.”

"Does that mean Chris Evans is finally in love, maybe?" Another smile spread across his face before he pulled you closer, holding you against his chest.

“No maybe about it.” Again, your eyes met, and everyone faded away.

-Chris-

Life is funny. The one thing you swear you don’t want and the thing you run from can turn out to be the one thing you actually need. If anyone would have asked him three years ago if he’d be happily married three years later to the woman of his dreams a woman he loved more than the world with a beautiful daughter he would have said they were nuts. Thinking about what a difference three years made it really showed that nothing is impossible and even though we think we know what’s best fate usually has other plans.

He softly brushed Ella’s hair from her forehead and watched her for a few more minutes. Her bedroom here was different than the one in Boston but she’d picked out everything and loved playing interior designer. He hoped she’d grow to love it as she loved her room in San Francisco. Placing a soft kiss on her temple he walked out and switched on her night light. As he walked through his home he turned off lights and double checked the alarm was armed and his entire world was safe.

As he walked out back to the view that sold him he saw your back turned. You’d always loved this view. Once he was got to you he slinked behind you and wrapped his arms around you. your moan was low and breathy.

“She's fast asleep.” He placed a tender kiss on your neck and trailed it down to your exposed shoulder.

“It was a long night,” you responded burying deeper into his arms. He’d never get over how good it felt to hold you like this. He’d lost hope he ever would. Squeezing you in his embrace he dropped a few more kisses on your skin.

The silence between the two of you stretched, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, it was a silence that brought peace, one that made him feel content for the first time in years.

“Chris,” you began.

“Mmm.”

You took a deep breath and he knew you were preparing to speak. He felt slight anxiety over what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He almost didn’t hear you.

“For what?”

“Everything, for not telling you about Ella when I found out I was pregnant, for the last six months. How I treated you, all the back and forth, all the pain I caused you. The things I said to you last month. My god, I never meant to hurt you.”

He turned your face to him and kissed you gently. As soon as his lips met yours, he could feel the goosebumps break out on your skin. When his pulled back, he nuzzled your nose then kissed it. All of this felt natural to him. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

“It’s not Chris, I was—horrible,” you added.

“Okay, yes you hurt me—a lot. I don’t think anyone has hurt me the way you have. That alone spoke to me saying that you matter to me when no other before you had. That pain showed me what mattered to me. My career is great and everything but Vixen you and Ella mean so much more to me. So yeah the pain sucked, I’ve never had my heart broken until you.”

It was full honesty, his truth. You looked down and to look away but he wouldn’t let you. He wasn’t having it. “I’m not angry with you Vixen, I’m just glad we have this third try.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Now, we just have to work on those flight instincts.” You smiled just as he did. “Don’t run away from me again sweetheart.” The expression on your face made his heart skip a beat. That was a first, he thought. The name felt natural, it felt like it was meant just for you. Again, he kissed you sweetly but passionately.

“I'm proud of you Vix. You have no idea. Everything tonight was amazing, you really set the bar high for future restaurants.”

“Thank you.”

“So, what’s next for the woman who has broken the glass ceiling that enclosed her? What does the love of my life have on the agenda next?” He nuzzled his bearded cheek against yours smiling when you shivered.

“Well, the cooking show, then another restaurant, maybe a line of pots, cutlery, food products, to begin.”

“Wow. Sounds like a busy few years.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” you added.

“When do you plan on having these five remaining kids?” You snorted and laughed loudly. It echoed over the backyard and into the night air around you.

“You may be nearing old age, but I am still in my prime.” His laughter was loud, and it boomed in the backyard.

“Plus, I never said I couldn’t do all of this while being barefoot and pregnant.”

He smiled thinking of you that way. He couldn’t wait to see it. Tightening his hold around you, he moaned.

“There is one thing I want first,” he breached.

“You sure want a lot don’t you Mr. Evans.”

“Damn right I do Mrs. Evans.”

“Okay, shoot your shot.” He kissed your ear, then your jaw down to your neck and then your shoulder. Each kiss he placed elicited a moan from you that got sultrier and sultrier.

“A wedding.” You looked back to him and searched his eyes.

“I want to get married again, for real this time.” Slowly you smiled.

“Really?” He nodded his head completely sure about what he wanted. He’d never wanted anything more. The idea of seeing you walk down the aisle to him made his throat tighten from the emotion bubbling within him.

“Yes, and I know the perfect date,” he informed with a smirk. “August 15th, the first day that started it all, the day fate smiled on us.” Just as the words came out, you crushed your lips to his and expertly kissed him lacing your fingers at the back of his head. He was the first to moan but once he did you followed suit.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your lips not wanting to stop the kiss to speak.

“Show me,” you whispered in the same fashion.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He stood then bent to scoop you into his arms and kissed you tenderly--passionately and allowed the intensity to build. It didn’t take long, it never did. As he carried you through the house up the stairs to the bedroom he pressed you on the door and pulled a guttural moan from you.

“Do you still see them?” Knowing just what you were asking he looked around for the ghosts of your love, ghosts that still remained, but were now something else.

“I think I'll always see them, only difference now is they don't haunt me.” You smiled before you kissed him again. When he laid you on his bed he lost himself in your soulful eyes. He’d always loved your eyes. They were the first things he missed.

“You're irresistible, so fucking perfect!” They were the words he said to you three years ago, words he’d uttered truthfully, as he was filled with earthshattering desire for you. The desire he felt now superseded that of the past. What he felt for you now could only be summed up with the word soulmate.

“I'm never going to get you out of my system. I'll never be over you, Vixen. You're my forever home." Your arms and legs wrapped around him and he finally knew what it meant for someone to be your home. You were his, you’d always been and would always be his home.

The End

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Closing Note: Thank you, EVERYONE, for all your support with this fic. Thank you for reading, sharing, commenting, reblogging, sending asks about it. I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO MUCH for it!❤❤

I appreciate each and every one of you!!!❤❤

TagList:

@airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24 @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97 @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea @ursapharoh05 @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushrooms @titty-teetee @ab-baybay @kreolemami @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @dangerouslovefanfic @heladoom @renesmeeharelds @zaddysqueen7 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @deidrashouseofpain @coldmuffinbanditshoe @evemej @chaselovinggert @ben-wyxtt @designerwriterchic @chrisgalore @jennmurawski13 @rynabarnesrogers @yunggyeezyy @kemkem101 @dearkyrainez @minton131@momobaby227 @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @browneyes9125 @mjey12 @magdelen69 @hannahholland1811 @lo-cheu @cocooned-butterfly @firstangeldragonranch @jovanaprime @kemkem101 @gladiatrix14 @soapjay @nico-diangelo-grey

#love maybe fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic #black fanfiction

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Marvel’s Loki Episode 5: MCU Easter Eggs and References

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This article contains Loki episode 5 spoilers.

Marvel’s Loki episode 5 is a big one. Yes, we know…last week felt like that. And the one before it, too. But this one really IS, with the entire episode taking place (as DoG’s Kayti Burt put it) on top of a literal “trash pile of MCU and Marvel Comics Easter eggs.”

With that in mind, let’s have some fun with all the incredible Marvel references they managed to sneak into Loki episode 5.

Journey Into Mystery

You probably already know this, but Journey Into Mystery was the book that first introduced the Marvel Comics version of Thor, with Loki following shortly after. The title eventually was just renamed Thor since the Asgardians had become the primary focus of the book for years by that point. However, Journey Into Mystery was revived a few years back, with its primary focus being on the adventures of Kid Loki this time around.

Thanos Copter

The Lokis pass a helicopter with “THANOS” on the side. This is a reference to Spidey Super Stories #39 from 1979. The all-ages comic featured a story of Spider-Man and the Cat (Hellcat) taking on Thanos, who was on the hunt for the Cosmic Cube. He flew around New York City in his own helicopter with his name on the side. The reference comes up as a joke here and there, including an issue of Deadpool. Even Thanos’ giant two-sided blade weapon from Avengers: Endgame has been considered by many to be a sly reference to the Thanos Copter.

Ecto-Cooler

While the Lokis are all drinking wine, Kid Loki is shown drinking Hi-C Ecto Cooler. The Slimer-based citrus drink was a tie-in to The Real Ghostbusters cartoon of the 1980s and lasted into 2001 due to its popularity. Afterwards, it became a fondly-remembered relic to time. Ecto Cooler made a brief return in 2016 to coincide with the Ghostbusters reboot. Sadly, there’s no news of it coming back for the upcoming Ghostbusters: Afterlife movie.

Speaking of Kid Loki…

Kid Loki

Kid Loki seems to be wielding a flaming sword, which looks an awful lot like Laevateinn, the sword he wielded in the Loki: Agent of Asgard comics.

Polybius

In the background of the Lokis’ lair, we see a Polybius arcade machine. Polybius is a long-running urban legend. Supposedly, back in 1981, an arcade machine was set up in Portland, Oregon, watched over by various men in black. The game was so addicting that it caused fights to break out and horrible side-effects to its players. We wrote more about the decades-old mystery of Polybius right here.

Pretty sure there’s an old Williams Space Pinball machine in there, too but that’s not as wild as Polybius.

The Void

Fittingly, the realm where all the pruned victims end up is called the Void. In the comics, the Void is a dark, inexplicable, and possibly biblical entity that acts as the evil side to the Sentry. During the storyline Siege, the Void murdered Loki, which facilitated his rebirth as Kid Loki.

Alioth

Alioth first appeared in Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective #1, the same 1993 comic that also introduced Ravonna Renslayer to the world…and one that features Kang as its central villain. Hmmmm…

Oh, and Alioth was co-created by Mobius M. Mobius inspiration/model Mark Gruenwald, who gets another shout later in the episode.

Vote Loki

The “politician Loki” who we see leading (inasumuch as they can/want to be led) the loose coalition of Variant Lokis is modeled almost exactly on the version of Loki from Marvel’s Vote Loki story by Christopher Hastings, Langdon Foss, and Paul McCaffery. In it, Loki ends up running for President, with his ridiculous campaign built on the “honest” deception of openly lying to the American people inadvertently aided by a credulous news media. It’s a good read and you should check it out.

This episode also engages in the old MCU/Star Wars tradition of someone getting a hand cut off…in this case it’s our pal, “Vote Loki.”

Frog Thor

A frog resembling Thor is shown in a jar labeled “T365.” Wouldn’t you know it, Thor #365 is the issue where Loki transforms Thor into a frog. Yes, it was a whole thing. Walt Simonson’s run on the Thor comics is really spectacular.

“Frog Thor” also got a mention in Thor: Ragnarok, during the “play within the movie” seen as “Loki” apologized to “Thor” for turning him into a frog.

You know, there’s even an independent wrestler with a Thor Frog gimmick. Life is beautiful sometimes.

Classic Loki

So it appears that Classic Loki is basically what would have happened if “our” Loki survived the opening of Avengers: Infinity War, which he did by allowing Thanos to kill a duplicate while he disguised himself as some debris. Classic Loki went into hiding and developed a taste for brighter greens and yellows, and aged into Richard E. Grant, before he was pruned by the TVA and found himself here in the Void.

Classic Loki’s line about “the god of outcasts” comes from 2019’s Loki #5, by Daniel Kibblesmith and Andy McDonald:

“I am Loki. God of outcasts. They see themselves in me. And I in them. All of us, alone together. It’s why my stories always end with someone trying to put me in a box. And begin with my spectacular escape.”

Later in the episode, Classic Loki and Kid Loki literally “exit stage right,” in what feels like a very deliberately “stagey” moment that plays on the Shakespearean overtones of all of this.

The Living Tribunal

On the ground in the Void there’s a large severed head…and it’s that of The Living Tribunal, a cosmic entity created by Stan Lee and Marie Severin back in 1967. The presence of a Living Tribunal (even one who is dead at this present time), whose entire purpose for being is predicated on the existence of a multiverse, means that the TVA is trying very hard to cut all ties and any evidence of the fact that the multiverse is already out there.

U.S.S. Eldridge

The USS Eldridge was a real Cannon-class destroyer in the U.S. Navy in use from 1943 to 1992. It was supposedly sold for scrap after it was decommissioned but Loki posits that perhaps it was an unwanted Variant in the Sacred Timeline. Perhaps this is because the ship was rumored to be subjected to the “Philadelphia Experiment” that was supposed to render it invisible to the human eye. The story is sadly probably a hoax.

There’s a not exactly great 1984 movie called The Philadelphia Experiment which adds time travel to the equation, making this little callback even more Loki appropriate.

Is That Stan Lee?

At about 9:38 there’s a mural in the TVA headquarters. On the right there’s a guy in prescription shades, with a familiar moustache and salt-and-pepper hair. We’re not saying that’s Stan Lee, but…

The Castle

Yes, we know, that ominous castle sure looks like Doctor Doom’s home of Doomstadt, but…it’s probably not (or is it?). More likely, this is Castle Limbo, home of Kang the Conqueror (or…is it?).

We unpacked these possibilities some more here.

The Music

The “heroic Loki” theme at the end sounds like it’s about to break into Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.”

Speaking of, the regular Loki theme is very similar to the part of the Delfonics “Ready or Not Here I Come (Can’t Hide From Love)” that was sampled for Missy Elliott’s “Sock It To Me.” The original (also sampled for the Fugees’ “Ready or Not” and Dr. Dre’s “Still D.R.E.”) was about the inevitability of love, and Missy’s song was about sneaking into somebody’s house to get your back blown out, so basically the same thing. Could have some bearing on Loki and Sylvie’s story.

The music that plays during the “Loki brawl” is this show’s equivalent of Scooby-Doo chase music. That’s a good thing, by the way.

Pixar, is that you?

Was that the Pizza Planet truck? Mobius’s ride, a station wagon with a slice of pizza on top, immediately brought to mind the popular Pixar easter egg/elaborate timeline mcguffin that has appeared in every Pixar movie to date. Also, very nice touch having Lightning McQueen himself drive it.

An even nicer touch is the license plate on the car Mobius is driving: GRN W1D. As in “Gruenwald.” As in (say it with us, kids!) Mark Gruenwald, the Marvel writer and editor who Mobius is based on.

Ant-Man

At one point on the ground in the Void we can spot a gigantic Yellowjacket helmet. Yellowjacket is the codename for several size-shifting superheroes in the Marvel Comics, but is best known to MCU fans as Corey Stoll’s Darren Cross from the first Ant-Man flick.

Guardians of the Galaxy

There’s lots of crashed spacecraft, one of which kind of looks like the Dark Aster (Ronan the Accuser’s ship in Guardians of the Galaxy), and there may be a Helicarrier hanging around. There’s also a flying saucer that vaguely resembles the ship from John Carpenter’s The Thing, and a pirate ship that if Doctor Doom were actually the villain of this show (he isn’t…or…is he?) would make us think of that character’s very first appearance in Fantastic Four comics, where he sent Ben Grimm back in time to become Blackbeard. No, really.

Miscellaneous Time Variants

The fate of the Lokis is reminiscent of What If? #12, otherwise known as What If the X-Men Had Stayed in Asgard? At the end of the story, after tasting defeat yet again, Loki begged Those Who Sit Above in Shadow to allow him to rule Asgard. They agreed by sending him far into the future at the end of time. As reality started to break down, Loki went out laughing in the face of oblivion.

The bus ad at the beginning is for Calum Ross, who is an editor on the show.

The shot of all the Lokis walking as the camera swoops overhead is very much reminiscent of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies.

Loki and Sylvie are cold in The Void. But wait a minute, aren’t they both Frost Giants? Why then would Loki conjure a green blanket? Unless he wants a convenient excuse to cuddle up with his Variant…

Loki is drinking “RoxxiWine” pinot noir…out of a box…which is a nice touch.

Is that weird, very large plant in the bowling alley hideout supposed to be a Variant Yggdrasil? Or wait…what if that’s Plant Loki?!? He’s green, isn’t he?

Next to Alligator Loki’s kiddie pool there’s a copy of The Mystery and Lore of Monsters, a 1930 book by Charles J.S. Thompson.

The tower we all keep thinking is Avengers Tower is in fact Qeng Tower, the headquarters of Qeng Enterprises, the company that Tony Stark (mistakenly) sold the old Avengers tower to in the comics.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Spot anything we missed? (Probably, right?) Let us know in the comments!

The post Marvel’s Loki Episode 5: MCU Easter Eggs and References appeared first on Den of Geek.

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aubsforthewin · 3 years

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small miracles i witnessed/experienced today:

1. my car window got fixed—this one is not so much a miracle because i paid someone $450 to fix it BUT it is a huge load off my mind so i am counting it.

2. while i was waiting on my car, i took a long walk down to the river park and that alone was miraculous—i needed to move and be in the sun and breathe fresh(ish) air so desperately and i did not even realize it until i was doing it. i have been struggling with my mental state the last couple of weeks so i am not sure it would have happened if not for some of the moving parts behind my car door panel succumbing to a moment of autocannibalism.

3. furthermore—being out in the world; walking around; passively observing and experiencing my surroundings; no car; just me and a tiny backpack packed with the essentials and nothing to do on a wednesday afternoon, is a scenario in which i have not found myself for a long, long time and it woke up a part of me that i had forgotten existed.

4. for the first time in 16 months i walked into a cute bookstore/coffee shop, bought myself a paperback (@neil-gaiman’s Neverwhere which i have not read before; i love it so far and i adore that man but i digress), and sat and drank a pot of earl grey and read to my heart’s content. nowhere to be, no plan, no agenda, just existing. it had been so long that reading a physical novel was like coming home after a lifetime away, so alien and so familiar.

5. walking around the riverfront i watched an osprey try for a few seconds to catch an air pocket, succeed, soar a few serene circles over the water, dive down into the river, emerge with a fish in its talon, and do a few more laps over my head for good measure before disappearing behind or into a nearby copse of trees, presumably to eat its lunch. i just happened to be walking by at that moment to see it happen, and i go to the riverfront somewhat regularly and have never seen an osprey there before. it was spectacular. there were more people on the bridge with me but i swear it seemed like somehow no one else saw it.

6. similarly bird-related—for a while i sat on some stone steps that led down to the water and there were a number of canada geese lounging about at the bottom. they were obviously very accustomed to humans and being fed thereby because a few of them came right up to me. one bold goose in particular was very interested in what i may have had in my hands, bag, and pockets. i didn’t have any snacks for them though (plus i’m not sure what the best practices are, if any, for feeding waterfowl in that situation) so it just nosed around me nipping lightly at my fingers and shoes, mildly annoyed, and eventually waddled away making disappointed little honks. i was a little nervous at first and ready to gently but firmly fling it away with my foot and run if it got any funny ideas because i know they can be jerks, but i had the better positioning if it came to an altercation, and anyway it was quite docile and probably would have let me pet it if i had wanted to roll the dice on giving myself some kind of parasite (i abstained). at one point two male-presenting people sat down several yards from me and a goose (probably the same one) did the same routine with them and we strangers shared a silent smile over it.

7. not only did i get to sit at an Establishment and enjoy a meal which feels like a dream come true after 16 months of being in my apartment, but i actually found a place that makes a halfway decent street taco in spokane! i was walking by and it looked like my kind of place and i have not had a good taco since i left san diego so i took a chance. i sat outside in the shade, had a couple pints, ate tacos and tots until i was uncomfortably full, and it was perfect.

7a. about 9 months ago or so, maybe longer, i suddenly developed aversions to foods i previously quite liked—including onions, garlic, certain berries, most apples, red wine, and coffee. basically overnight, i could no longer stand to taste or smell any of them and am still not sure why. i did not think about the fact that the aforementioned tacos would have onions before i ordered them so when they arrived onion-laden i thought, oh well, and ate them anyway and they tasted good! i do not know what the everloving hell is going on with that, but now i am excited to repeat the experiment with the other foods and more onions to see if this was a fluke or if i can tolerate them again.

8. when i left my house this morning my phone was at 40% battery. i had not actually planned on being out all day; i figured i would walk around a while and then get the bus or a rideshare home to wait since i dropped the car off at nine a.m. and the mechanic did not expect to have it ready until four or five. but i was having such a lovely time that i did not end up going home (and the car ended up being ready by two anyway) so there was no opportunity to charge my phone. and yet somehow despite that, and despite throughout the day listening to music, checking the map to see where i was going, taking photos, and who knows what else, my phone was still alive and on 1% battery when i got home at three-thirty. if that is not fucking miracle i do not know what is.

when my car window got stuck the other day, i melted down pretty hard. i knew it was going to cost money that i technically have but that had been earmarked for other things—namely my basic expenses since i am living partially off savings after resigning my full time job last month. also that day i had forced myself to leave the house and was en route to the grocery store because i badly need food and have barely been able to function the last two weeks. so when the window got stuck and would not roll up, and i realized i could not leave my car exposed while i grocery shopped and had to go home empty handed after all the effort it took to get myself there, i felt absolutely dejected and somehow betrayed. i cried and yelled and hit things and called my car a piece of garbage and got angry at the universe for fucking me over, and just generally reacted badly.

needless to say none of this did anything for my mental state but after today i am feeling much better. i imagine my grapple with the depressive episode is not over and there seems to be little to no middle ground between euphoria and despair for me right now so who knows what will happen in five minutes, but i feel more grounded and the sun and exercise helped if nothing else.

i apologized to my car because she is absolutely not garbage and i am so privileged and grateful to have her and she is more reliable to me than i deserve sometimes honestly. shelling out that money hurt, but i need her and she is worth it. i also apologized to the universe and to myself for doubting the fact that i am protected and capable and loved and cared for. my trauma responses kick in and take over my better judgement when i do not have control over a situation, but there is no shame in that and i am working on it. i am only a human after all.

thank you to whomever and whatever are owed thanks for today. it was somehow exactly what i needed.

#personal #long post

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thatwhichdoesnotsuffer · 4 years

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Let us take in the last connection a man who has a great deal of self-pride. He is of course convinced that he understands what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong, and he acts accordingly, even though it is quite contrary to what the Work would teach him. In this case, he neither hears nor understands nor obeys the Work. He will probably only add the idea of the Work to his self-pride and use the Work in this way. He will feel himself greater than the Work and so his Personality will be kept active. In other words, the Work will not reach him in his internal depths and start something growing there —namely, the growth of his Essence or real part. As you know, we are taught that in looking for Chief Feature we have to observe what belongs to our self-love and self-pride as one clue. In that case, the only approach to further inner development is through humility, through the real experience, constantly renewed, that one does not know—in fact, that one knows nothing but is always pretending to know. I often talk to you about the feeling of self-merit, the feeling that one is a special case, as it were, different from other people, the feeling of self-complacency, mild or arrogant superiority, and so on. All this arises from self-pride and self-love. A man must come eventually to the point in which he realizes clearly that he is nothing. Then he can become something. Then the Work takes the place of what he imagined. A man's self-pride can stand in the way of the Work acting on him and, in fact, it does, for many years, and he has, so to speak, fits of tremendous self-pride followed by fits of inner humiliation and for a long time he does not feel humility as his most real, interesting side and self-pride as his tiresome artificial side, and so does not catch the many forms of cognition and internal perception that are associated with the momentary absence of self-pride. This is the same as what happens in ordinary life amongst religious people. They profess to believe in God, but internally they do not. They believe in themselves. One can profess to believe in this Work, but internally one does not. However a few 'I's may, and then a long struggle has to take place inevitably between the 'I's that believe in this Work—that is, in something higher—and the 'I's that do not. When a man is in his Work-'I's he is quite different, but any accidental outer circumstance may suddenly shift him into his life-'I's which do not believe in the Work—that is, that do not believe there is anything higher than sensual external life. In this sense a man has to struggle between sense and spirit. All esotericism teaches the same thing and you will find it on every page in the Gospels. Now remember that there is no reason why you should do this Work. Always remember this. Always face yourself with this point—namely, that there is no reason why you should do this Work. There is no external proof of it. You can go on with life just as you do go on with it always. No one is asked to do this Work. It is simply a matter of your own choice. You are under no vows. But if you begin to hear it and if what you hear penetrates to a deeper level and you begin to understand something of it and begin to try to obey it in your daily life, then the internal thing that holds you to this Work will be your understanding. A man can easily go against his understanding, but in this case he will then find himself back in life just as he was. And if he finds this more satisfactory he should go back and forget as soon as possible any understanding of this Work that he possessed. In fact, he need not forget, because the Work will vanish from him by itself. In such a case a man will remain in the same state of his psychology as formerly. He will remain a mass of contradictory 'I's that take charge of him and compel him to do things at different times and to think that 'I' is acting. Such a man will of course never form a new psychological body in himself: he will live and die in multiplicity of being. He will have no self-knowledge and, in short, he will have done nothing for himself during his life-time except serve mechanical life. I wonder if some of you still think you should serve mechanical life as it is now. I ask you: have you faced yourselves with this question? Look at life now. Do you think it leads anywhere? Now let us talk further about the question of Chief Feature being in some cases connected with self-pride, which we cannot separate from self-love. Such a man will always want to have his own way. Therefore he will not be able to obey the Work because the Work asks him to go against his self-will. It will not be something bigger than he is himself. You cannot obey something that you feel is smaller than yourself. This man will often feel that he is doing what ought to be done, what he thinks is right, but he will be having his own way—i.e. he will be acting from his self-love or his self-will. Self-pride, self-love and self-will cannot be separated. The self-pride is a manifestation of the self-love and the self-will is a manifestation of both. As I have often told you, when some of us were in France we were told that Personality had scarcely any right to exist. The will of Personality had to be sacrificed. A person may have objections to this and objections to that or he may make these requirements or those requirements before he agrees to anything. All these will be manifestations of the Personality under the aspect of self-pride, self-love and self-will—that is, the Work will not come first, but the self-will, the self-love, will come first. The mechanical, acquired Personality will direct one's life. The difficulty is that a person, whether man or woman, does not see for a long time that this may be the case. People, I notice, either pride themselves on being proud or say they have no pride. Self-pride is in everyone but in some the Chief Feature is very directly connected with it and in others only indirectly. Pride is a very latent quality in us all which is not easy to observe, but it can form a very strong barrier to a further step in development. We justify our pride very easily but when we begin by inner perception to taste this cold, hard, unforgiving quality we realize how important it is to soften it and put ourselves in the position of those we condemn through it or feel better than. You know the disciples were not accused of vanity. I often think that one of the distinctions between pride and vanity is as follows: vanity wants to be first, like those two disciples who wanted to sit one on the right hand and one on the left hand of Christ in Heaven, but pride is rather in what Peter said when he exclaimed: "If I must die with thee, I will not deny thee." But he did. Through fear he denied Christ. Now suppose you begin to see pride as a personal daily experience through self-observation. Then you see one of these two giants that walk in front of us and decide our lives. If you understand something of the Work and have begun to wish to hold on to it so that it may change you in the indescribable and unfathomable way in which it does, once you value it enough, then you will see that you must obey the Work and put it higher than yourself by struggling against this pride, against the forms in which it expresses itself in your life. Remember we are now speaking of pride as a source of Chief Feature. Then you will be hearing, understanding and obeying the Work and this will begin to make in you a new psychology, a new person, which we can call Second Body. Do not begin to argue about something that does not concern us at present, as to whether such efforts will make Second, Third or Fourth Bodies. Such efforts will make a new body in you, a new person, a new psychology, because you will begin to follow, to practise, the Work itself. The Work itself is an organized whole which can create in you a new organism, a second and new person. Remember that the Work is not by addition to what you are, but by transformation of what you are. The Work is to change you, not to add something to you as you are, but to change completely what you are now. You cannot do this Work and remain the same. You cannot add the new wine to the old bottle of yourself. Ask yourselves, some of you, have you really changed at all, and do you really wish to change yourself? Or are you full of self-merit? And if you wish to change, what is it you have to change, from what you understand of the teaching of the Work? Let me remind you of these words: "To act from the Work is to remember yourself." Then you will will the Work against your self-will. Even Christ himself said that He did not do His own will but the Will of Him that had sent Him. Do you see what esotericism means? The Work and all its careful and lovely teachings gives an opportunity of willing what it teaches and not acting from self-will. Self-will gets us nowhere. But meditate on what the Work teaches and notice whether you have ever, in your life, really acted from the Work—-that is, if you have heard, understood and obeyed it at any moment.

Gurdjieff

#maurice nicoll #gurdjieff #fourth way #spirituality #esotericism #mysticism #occultism #esoteric #philosophy #psychology #pride

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horseyfuture · 3 years

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Lockdown 2021

Welcome, you sickening metallic pervert. I don’t know why I even tolerate you, my dues to the club have long since been settled and yet still you show up with your corrugated spleen and your laminated nipples. What? Oh, it’s you. With your simple fleshy appendages and some kind of yellow blancmange for a CPU. I suppose you will suffice. Bend yourself over the table there and we’ll get on with the show. Liquid soap’s on the side, next to the antique bum-hammer.

---

Aries: You find yourself repeatedly followed by crows. This is in no way related to the quite normal phenomenon in which a murder of crows will adopt a human who feeds them, bringing them trinkets and even offering them protection from aggressors. No, these crows find you sexy. Leaping about in your lounge, wearing your goth tops and flapping your arms to the rhythms of online parties, the crows all agree that you are “SKRARK!” or, in Crow, “one fine piece of floppy human tail”. Well done! Crows have good taste and make excellent lovers.

Taurus: Every time you open that damn Taurus mouth of yours, you sound like a broken record. I mean, literally, you sound like a piece of badly scratched vinyl. That’s been up the wrong bit of a rhino. And is being played using a bent nail. Through the speakers of a brown ‘65 Ford Allegro. In Ipswitch. In the rain. On a Wednesday. In November. That’s a lot of detail to pack into an accent every time you decide to prattle on about crisps. People find it offputting.

Gemini: On a whim, you buy yourself a File-o-fax, you know, from the 80s. You must have seen one in a kitschy American TV show or something. While excessively bored on a Sunday afternoon, you begin to fill in some of the entries from your mobile phone. As soon as you finish writing the first one, Adam, he calls! What a crazy coincidence! You move onto the next, Beth - then SHE calls! That’s just insane! As you move onto the next name, you think “My god, what if I bought a MAGICAL File-o-fax? What adventures could I HAVE?” - You look down at the table in awe, when suddenly it all becomes clear: next to the Magic File-o-fax is the Magic Empty Bottle of Gin. Ah.

Cancer: Singing a song about beans, YEAH! Singing a song about toast! Singing a song about beans on toast, ‘cos that food you like the most, WOO! Singing a song about waffles? NO! Can’t be arsed making them! Beans on toast takes like two tiny minutes and waffles take about fucking ten! (FUCK THAT!) Singing a song into the beans can! While the beans turn in the microwave, ALRIGHT! Naming individual beans (YEAH!) pretend they’re all going to a beans rave! (WHISTLE POSSE!) Shovelling the beans into your mouth WOO! Toasting bread is for twats! (LO-SERS!) Pouring cold beans onto your face and half of them fall onto the cat! (SEND HELP!)

Leo: After a successful hour’s staring at the stippled ceiling, you reward yourself with a brisk walk to the door. After three proud steps, diligently recorded by your fitness band (which you’re fairly certain is now emitting a dull weeping sound), you jubilantly punch the air and have a nice relaxing pass out on the floor. After another few hours, you surf another boost of energy and nearly make it to the fridge. Sadly, though this goal is destined to elude you as you trip over a recently-delivered Amazon envelope. A handful of attempts in, you succeed at opening the envelope (only stopping twice to catch breath) and discover it to contain one flimsy plastic finger measurer and a £60 voucher for a wine subscription. You remember the partner you once had, in the distant before times, so vibrant and loud. In recognition of having had what you’re certain is “a feeling”, you fling the ring-measurer away, order the wine and settle into a nice, relaxing cry.

Virgo: There are a number of St Bernards around your neighbourhood and you’ve started to find them more than a little intimidating. What began as friendly barks as you passed in the street has developed into the odd growl and now barking as the owners pull their wretched beasts back from you, swearing in anguish as their hounds’ slavering jaws snap at your heels. After a few weeks of this, Monthly Bath Weekend inevitably comes round and the problem seems to just go away.

Libra: Some people have been baking recently. They - of course - are twats. Others have chosen to use this time to improve existing music skills, or even pick up a new instrument in their abundance of free time. Shit-eating scum, each and every one of them. You are not going to be affected by this self-improvement bullshit and have decided to strike out on your own, tangibly making yourself less pleasant, skilled and attractive with each passing day. Monday is fudge-eating class. Tuesday, “how long can I sit on the loo?” marathons (5 hours PB). Wednesday is Yelling ‘BASTARDS’ at the Sky Day, while Thursday (being the new Friday) you party on down with a life-size model of Prince made from your own toenails. Friday you slam your face into cupboards, repeating the word “APES” in a dull monotone. At the weekend, it’s time to rest! Phew! Just a few hours drilling holes in the ceiling, a slip, a tumble, a fall, a crunching sound and a view from the underside of a very poorly constructed step-ladder until it all goes beautifully dark.

Scorpio: Fuck this, you’re buying beach balls. Yep. Why not? You do, in fact, buy beach balls. Why didn’t you think of this before? They’re bright. They’re entertaining. They’re CHEAP. You can order them in large quantities, it turns out. “Ooh, I hope you’re not having a party!” says the delivery man, with a wink “HAHAHAH, NO. Actually I’m just INFLATING THEM AND POPPING THEM” you cackle toward his suddenly retreating face. It takes a while to inflate all 400, but the high you get from blowing them up is quite intense! Now you have a house full of beach balls! Haha! You can’t bring yourself to pop them in the end. Some of them are lost to accidents (fried beach ball, anyone?) and others you draw on with crude faces of past enemies, then open the door and punt them down the street with a hearty “FUCK YOU, BEATRICE!” (or Ken, as appropriate. You had few enemies. It’s cheap therapy). The last few hundred last you happily into the next month, though the doctor is mildly unimpressed when you attempt to get them vaccinated.

Sagittarius: Your attempts at making LEGO sex toys go badly to begin with. But, weirdly, you do eventually get better at it. You’re particularly proud of the one where you use the gearbox from the racing car for, well, you know. The winking pneumatic sex-donkey (8,014 bricks) is, in most people’s opinion, your pièce de résistance. You can’t wait for the highstreet to open up again, so you can go and show off your repertoire down the local toyshop.

Capricorn: It’s tough getting through lockdown without the internet. In your case, though, it is entirely self-inflicted. You made a promise to yourself to cut down on the doomscrolling and it was successful! Prodigiously so! You end up cutting out the news sites - who needs them? - then the social sites - nothing but trash! - then eventually you just pull the wires out of your router and fling it in the bin with some bits of leftover chicken. Time passes, politicians come and go, vaccines are invented, distributed, mostly successful (with only a small amount of people instantly turning into tiny, angry lizards) and eventually the world passes through the danger period and back into something like normality! You, of course, miss this entirely and get on with your new hobby of writing subversive poetry on the walls in dollops of mouldy Marmite. Weirdly, you ARE happier.

Aquarius: Lockdown doesn’t seem to be getting to you too badly this month (whichever month it turns out to be). You did get to a bit of a peak when you were popping a Toblerone up your bum while playing kazoos just to get yourself ready for the next bloody Zoom meeting of the day, you now you’re limiting it to one bar per day and only using the two kazoos, you feel like you’ve hit your stride, found your flow, really made the most of every work-from-home hour the Lord sends. Ah, yes, the Lord truly has kept you to the virtuous path. Without your faith, you would never have got through the dark days. Sat there on his throne of Bourbons, wearing his Chocolate Finger crown. Slowly rotating on the lazy Susan you bought so you could efficiently respect His Majesty from any angle with a deft flick of the wrist (and a few Bourbons in the eyes if you get too excited). The mighty Lord. You assume his name was Lord. There were only a few letters you could read on the collar when you found him by the bins. Ah, yes. The bins. The biscuits. The Lord. The rapture. Amen.

Pisces: After popping to the door to bring in a food delivery, you notice the day looks quite pleasant for a change, pop a mask on and go for a nice walk. On the way back, you notice a ladder leant up against a tree, with a strange golden light shimmering from high in the branches. Climbing the ladder, you hear the sound of a party, people calling your name in joy, whistles and whoops, clapping and laughter. You tumble into the golden light and down a kind of shoot as a fanfare plays. The dazzling light fades, the noise abates gently and you are sat on your sofa. On the TV are the words “LEVEL 4: YODELLING GEESE”. The geese filling your living room immediately begin to yodel with anger.

---

By the sainted elbows of Bobby Tavistocke, we got there in the end. I may have been a little over-brutal with my use of the bum-hammer there, for which I apologise. Anyway, you have extracted your price once more and I have little left to give. Pick up your clothes and get out of my living room.

As usual, you may of course take a fairy cake. We’ve got the nice ones this week.

DEPART!

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sechssstan · 4 years

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Hellooo can I get #32 with Jiwon!

Hello~ I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting for so lont, but as you can see I wrote a lot! Feel free to ask again💛 Hope you’ll like it🙏🏻

“Can you pretend to be my partner for my friend’s wedding? I told them I’d have a plus one.” with Eun Jiwon

It all started on that awful day when your close friend suddenly texted you.

“So, Y/N, who’s coming with you to my wedding?” her text said. You read the text many times, confused.

“I’m sorry?” you replied, trying to sort things out. Your friend quickly called you.

“Y/N, hi. Don’t you remember? You promised me that you wouldn’t come by yourself to my wedding.” she explained with a giggle.

“I can’t exactly recall the moment when I told you that…” you honestly answered, scratching the back of your head. Why would you have said such a thing, when you’re not even dating anyone?

Your friend giggled, once again. “I guess you might have been a little bit drunk when you said that.” she added, with a malicious tone in her voice.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I will be able to come with someone. I mean who would accept to come to a wedding that basically is in two days?”

“Well…” she started. “It could be a nice way to finally ask someone we know on a date…”

You immediately blushed. “A marriage doesn’t seem like a nice excuse to arrange a date.”

“Whatever.” your friend replied. “Anyways, you have to keep your promise!”

It all started on that awful day. Right after she hanged up, you began wondering whether you should ask that person out or not. “You know what, he would know that I like him anyways.” you thought.

“Can you pretend to be my partner for my friend’s wedding? I told her I’d have a plus one.” you hurriedly wrote and then put your phone down. As the notification sound resonated in your room, you hid your face with your hands.

“Sounds fun. But I need you to tell me what color you will wear, so that we can match.” he replied.

It all started on that awful day that eventually led to you waiting for Jiwon to come pick you up. As usual, he is late. You take a look at yourself in the mirror and adjust your yellow dress once again, wondering about whether he’ll come or not. It wouldn’t be strange if he decided to back off. “I’m here~” he finally texts you.

You take a deep breath before finally leaving your house.

When you finally see him, he’s standing near his car; he looks pretty handsome with the suit he chose to wear – probably it’s tailored as it fits him perfectly – and you can’t help but smile when you see that he has a yellow handkerchief in his jacket pocket.

“You look beautiful.” he compliments to you, as he opens the car door.

You merely smirk as a thank you, blushing, as you sit in the passenger seat; he sits behind the wheel and then addresses you. “Could you please type the address of the venue in the navigation system?”

You do as he asked you to and he starts to follow the route that the navigation system suggests. You don’t talk much at first, so you begin to curse yourself for the bad idea that you had asking him to come. “This will lead to nothing good.” you think, as Jiwon gives you curious looks.

After some other minutes spent in complete silence, he lowers the volume of the navigation system. “Are you nervous?” he asks, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

You bite your lip. “Sort of.” you simply answer, looking outside the window. The car becomes quiet once again.

“So… do we have a plan?” Jiwon asks again, looking over to you briefly before turning his dark eyes back on the road.

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what will we say if somebody asks how we started dating?” he explains, trying to hide a little giggle. You smile, as you get that he’s quite amused by the whole situation.

“Everyone knows that we are close. Let’s just say that we developed feelings.” you propose, as you check your make-up through the side-view mirror. “Hopefully, nobody will ask questions and we’ll just have to eat and drink until we get super drunk.”

Jiwon lets out a burst of laughter. “That sounds nice.” he replies; you can feel that you’ve finally taken the edge off. In about twenty minutes you arrive at the venue of the wedding; your friend always had taste, but this place literally exceeds the expectations. Right after you park the car, Jiwon comes and opens the car door for you; you get out of the car and quickly adjust your dress. Before you finally walk into the ceremony, Jiwon slides his hand into yours; he probably can feel that your body is stiffening, so he whispers “Relax.”.

As you enter the party hall, the newly-wed couple seems to be nowhere to be found, so you give up on looking for them. “We’ll eventually see them. Let’s have a drink.” you propose and Jiwon nods. He grabs champagne glasses and passes one to you. A couple of people come up to say hi to you and you giggle at the fact that they are excited to meet a celebrity. “It’s going well so far.”, you think. Jiwon is talking to one of your friend’s aunts about a recent variety show he’s been on and, by looking at him, you get lost in your thoughts: thinking about how your hands earlier fitted together well, you can feel your face turning a little bit red. He notices it, politely greets the lady and then gives you a questioning look. You shake your head.

“You know, it’s not so bad, anyways. The food seems to be good and there’s an open bar.” you say, quickly changing the subject of your discussion.

“Do you think so?” he asks, offering you another glass of champagne that he had receivd from a waiter. “Your standards for a wedding are low.”

“Oh, you’re right. You’re an expert when it comes to marriage.” you giggle. As you notice that he’s frowning upon your words, you pinch his cheek. “C’mon, I’m kidding! So, are you offering to show me better? Do you also want to arrange a fake wedding now?”

“Oh, in such case, would you be a dear and marry me then?” he blinks innocently, grabbing your hand.

“If you think you can marry me after two glasses of wine…” you start, pretending to be thinking about that. “You are absolutely right, let’s go!”

You both burst out laughing. Actually, it’s not that bad to pretend to be a couple. If only it wasn’t an act…

After some time you spot the newlyweds and you hurriedly reach them, with Jiwon following you; your friend notices him and gives you a malicious look.

“Y/N, finally! I was starting to think that you got lost in the bar.” she teases you, making you smile. She looks gorgeous in her bridal dress and you can’t help but get emotional. “Oh, don’t be a crybaby now.”

On the other side, Jiwon is shaking hands with her husband and congratulating him on the blessed event. Your friend looks at the two talking and, then, winks at you. “Jiwon! It’s so nice to have you here. I didn’t think that Y/N would seriously come with you, when she told me.”

Jiwon gives you a confused look; then, he understands that she’s trying to tease you, so he plays along. “You know, I wasn’t so sure about coming. But then she begged me… so here I am.”

The two of them giggle as you pout. “C'mon, let’s find the other food and fill our glasses.” you say, with the intention of separating those two. Soon the dinner starts and you find yourselves sitting at a table with some old friend of yours, who can’t stop giving curious looks to you and Jiwon. At first, it felt fun to be the center of the attention, but then the constant feeling of being watched slowly turned into a nuisance. Also, the reception is more boring than you would have thought: just people sharing toasts about how wonderful the newlyweds are and how in love they are. And when the dinner comes to an end, the dancing begins.

“How would you feel about dancing?” you ask, as Jiwon is filling your glass with red wine.

“For the sake of your feet, we better not.” he jokes, alluding to your high heels. You smile, and then take a sip of wine. You can feel that your head is starting to feel dizzy from all the alcohol you drank. The newlyweds share their first dance together, and also dance with their parents.

“How long have you known each other?” Jiwon asks out of the blue, referring to the bride.

“We met during our last year in high school.” you answer.

“How does it feel to see someone that you’ve known for so long getting married?” he asks again.

You’ve actually never thought about this. Many of your friends for high school are now living the time of their lives, some of them are engaged and some others are even married with babies. “I haven’t thought about this, actually.” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. “But I guess that I’m getting emotional about this. I wonder how I’ll feel when I’ll be the one getting married…”

Jiwon suddenly holds your hand. “Let me stop you there before you end up crying over this. Let’s have a dance.”

As the slow music starts, Jiwon pulls you close against him, and you’re not sure if it’s all the drinks you’ve had, but it feels… strange. His hands settle around your neck and his face is close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. You swallow. Somewhere in your mind, you’re trying to remind yourself that he only accepted to be your fake partner as a way to spend his day. He only is a friend. He’s always been.

The song slowly comes to an end, and Jiwon is literally leaning in, and your heart is beating fast, and you think the air is leaving your lungs, and…

Someone waves their hand in between your faces. You turn around and you see one of your old classmates. “Hey.” he says.

“Uhm… hey.” you reply, unsure about how to behave. Out of all the moments he could have greeted you, he chose the exact moment when you and Jiwon were about to kiss…

“May I have the next dance?” he asks, offering you a hand. Jiwon doesn’t say a word but you know that something seems to steam inside of him. A hot, burning, possessive feeling boils in him because he is just like a child who gets angry over people trying to get what’s his, even if it’s pretending. He goes back to the table where you were sitting and, as you’re dancing with that stupid classmate of yours, you see that he’s taking his frustration out by getting super drunk. Luckily, the DJ decides to quickly put an end to the song you were dancing to and you hurriedly greet your friend, cursing him with your thoughts. As you turn back, intentioned to reach Jiwon, you notice that he’s missing from your table; you ask the diners where he had gone to and they tell you that he just said that he needed some fresh air. You get out of the party hall and find him in the garden, still attached to a glass of wine; you reach him, take the glass out of his hands and place it on a bench.

“That’s enough drinking for today.” you say, as Jiwon raises an eyebrow. Then, something just possesses him as he pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your neck as he meets your lips with fervor. You can’t believe what is happening. He tastes like wine – how couldn’t he? -, and you find yourself quickly returning his kiss. His hands grabs your waist, pulling you closer. You aren’t sure how long you’re kissing until Jiwon pulls back, staring at you.

“You must be super drunk.” he says, shaking his head; he turns around and walks away from you, heading to a bench. You can hear him cursing himself.

You stand there, without knowing what to do and thinking about what he meant with his words. Then, you come back to your senses and follow him. “Hey! You can’t kiss someone and then leave like that.”

Jiwon’s face is impassive and he’s quiet as he always is when he feels vulnerable. You sit next to him.

“What does this mean to you?” he asks. “It means a lot to me.”

You don’t know what to answer. You sure have liked him for a long time now, but the thought of the two of you actually being together never crossed your mind.

“You know,” he starts. “When I first met you, you were like, the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen in my life. I still believe this to be true.”

You can feel your cheeks getting warmer as you’re blushing. This can’t be happening for real.

“Then I got to you know, and you were funny, charming, very sarcastic, ambitious, and all these amazing things.” he goes on.

“Is it true? Have you always been in love with me?” you cut him off. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why would I?” he asks, with a bitter smile. “While I was busy with one night stands, you were looking for some long term dating. How can you expect me to even think that you might’ve been interested in me?”

You sigh, thinking about how blind you have been all this time. You don’t really know what to say.

“So, I’m going to ask you again. What does this mean to you?” he asks, once again. “You know what? Nevermind, I’ll find the answer myself.”

He doesn’t even let you say a word that he softly presses his lips against yours. It’s hard to process the fact that you’re actually kissing him. When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Would it be okay to take my fake girlfriend on a date ‪tomorrow morning‬ so she can become my real girlfriend?” he asks, with a sly wit.

You can’t help but smile. “You’re such an idiot, Eun Jiwon.”

#sechskies fanfic #sechskies imagine #sechskies #eun jiwon

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