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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Sword and Shield

Part 1: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/652827986465275904/sword-and-shield

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on.

Warnings: Only some mentions of war, otherwise have at it!

2: Familiarity

You took in a deep breath, then slipped off your bag and set it down on the ground. Turning, you looked pleadingly to Rex, who decided to help you out behind his hidden smirk.

He held out his hand to you. “Permission to Transfer?” he asked the initial question to begin the Transference.

You took his hand readily. “Transfer Granted,” you said quietly, feeling that familiar tightness in your gut as the process began.

“Blaster,” Rex’s voice became a sharp command.

Almost without thinking, used to the process, you allowed the sensation of your cells shifting to complete their movement. With an odd sort of sucking sensation, you closed your eyes and Transferred.

Startled noises made you open your eyes to note your point of view from right above the blaster now held in Rex’s hand. The Transference had been completed successfully. Rex spun the blaster, using the Bond you’d forged between you and him to request a switch of weapons. You morphed the weapon in his hands into an IWS, hefting it in his hands. Another request as he swung his arm behind him, feet shifting in practiced movements to reveal that you’d Shifted into a giant scythe. One more request, and Rex straightened to hold out a Vibro-shiv in his hand.

“Hence why she’s called Shiv,” Rex remarked somewhat dryly, flipping the shiv in his hands.

You let a silhouette of your head, shoulders, arms, and torso materialize over Rex’s shoulder. It was a method of easy communication with others and a way to reveal your presence a little more visibly than just through a mental Bond with a Handler.

Rex nodded at you. “Bond Dissolution,” he said, allowing you to begin the Dissolution of the Transference. He tossed the Shiv, allowing your body to replace the weapon before it even hit the floor.

You shook your head a little to reorient yourself. Reaching down, you picked your bag back up. “I’ve been working with Commander Rex and the 501st for a while, but it’s a bit difficult to work with a large force and manage being passed from one person to another. Being a living weapon requires not only an intimidate knowledge of the weapons themselves but also a close working relationship with a tight-knit group in order to cater to their own individual strengths and preferences,” you explained, reaching up to rub your eye briefly. Your vision always felt a bit... off, after a Transference.

“She’s been stretched thin trying to understand and learn the fighting patterns and preferences of the entire 501st, and limiting her usage to just a few isn’t exactly the best scenario for an entire squadron’s unity,” Rex said, picking up your thread. “I thought putting her in an already-established, smaller, special-forces group would perhaps be best for increasing her effectiveness and bringing her to her best. It’s a commitment, but I’d appreciate it if you gave it a try.”

“Whoa, that’s super cool!” The large one bellowed, giving you an exhilarated grin.

A little startled, you gave him a shy smile. “Th-thanks.”

The others seemed to glance at each other almost in a non-verbal conversation, but seemed to come to a pretty swift agreement. The tattooed one turned to Rex.

“Since you’re recommending it, Commander, I suppose we’ll give it a go. Our next mission has been assigned tomorrow morning, so if she decides to join, she’ll have to probably move into the ship tonight.” He glanced at you.

Rex nodded. “Thank you for giving it a try. What do you think, Shiv?” He turned to you.

You nodded. “Of course, Commander,” you murmured, stomach flipping a little. After so long, it was actually happening. You were going to be transferred to a special ops group.

Rex nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Go and pack your things, Shiv. I’ll get the transfer settled and let the General know.”

You nodded, then turned to the group. “Um, should I just come back here? It shouldn’t take me long to pack,” you asked timidly.

The leader nodded at you. “We’ll be right here. I’m Sergeant Hunter, if you need to ask for me.”

“Oh, right! Name’s Wrecker!” The burly guy said with a wave.

You had to smile, waving back.

“I’m Tech,” the one with glasses introduced, adjusting his goggles.

“Crosshair,” the white-haired one grunted, seemingly disinterested in the whole affair. Though, he did glance at you.

“Thank you. I’ll be back,” you promised, looking to Rex.

He dismissed you with a nod, and you headed back to your bunk.

Sinking down onto the bunk, you stared down at your trembling fingers. You hadn’t even realized how nervous you’d really been until it was all said and done. Shaking your head, you dropped your head into your hands and tried to work through the muck of feelings that stuck in your chest.

You were... scared. Excited. Apprehensive. Curious. Nervous. Glad. Sad.

“Yo Shiv- hey, what’s wrong?”

You started, looking up to see Fives and Kix approaching your bunk. You gave them a bit of a sad smile, looking down at your hands now clasped in your lap.

“It’s... it’s finally happened,” you whispered, trying to wrap your own mind around it.

“Happened? Wha-“ Kix paused, eyes widening. “Wait, are you getting transferred?”

You nodded shakily. “Y-yeah.”

Fives slung his arm around your shoulders. “Well. Congrats, Shivvie!” he tried to cheer, but it came out a bit sadly.

You smiled up at both of them. “I’m gonna miss you guys, you know,” you said with a light laugh.

Kix sighed. “We’re gonna miss you too, Shiv. But I’m guessing that since this opportunity is one that you’re taking, so it must be good, right?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah... yeah, it’s... it’s a good one,” you admitted. “I’m- I’m joining Clone Force 99.”

“Whoa,” Fives blurted. “You’re joining the Bad Batch? That’s great for you, Shiv! I heard they’re weird but pretty good at what they do,” he said, clearly impressed. “I mean, Commander Rex helped create that force.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I...” Still, you had to let your shoulders slump a little. “I... I hope it goes well.”

“You’re gonna knock em dead, Shiv,” Kix encouraged, patting your shoulder. “We’re gonna miss you, but you have our commlinks. Come and get drinks with us at the 79s whenever you stop by for a break or something.”

You nodded, smiling up at both of them. You’d miss their company, no matter what happened. Kix and Fives had really been your pillars of support throughout your time with the 501st, and you’d really supported each other through... well, the Battle of Lola Sayu.

With a sigh, you looked around. “I have to pack. I have to get to the ship by tonight.”

“We’ll help you out,” Fives offered immediately, standing.

You shook your head at him. “Thanks, but... you mind just telling the others I’d like to say bye? If they’re around? I kinda... I need some headspace,” you admitted.

Kix nodded, grabbing Fives’ arm to keep him from protesting. “Got it, Shiv. We’ll send ‘em over. Good luck!”

You waved, biting back tears as you tried to smile.

New beginnings, after all, usually meant leaving something behind.

Taking a breath, you headed into Hangar Bay Six again. You’d said goodbye to the rest of the 501st, promising to keep in touch when possible and wishing them the best of luck. They’d been sad to see you go, but they’d all been encouraging and hopeful.

After all, you reflected, they were the ones who knew the difficulties you all faced working together. They’d seen how thin you’d been spread trying to accommodate and learn to work intimately with all of them.

Walking up to the Havoc Marauder, you headed up the ramp with your bags. “Hello?” you called uncertainly at the mouth of the ship, not wanting to just barge in.

Hunter rounded the corner, nodding to you. “Welcome aboard. Your quarters are just down here,” he said, heading down the corridor.

You followed him, glancing around at the ship in order to get familiar with the layout. It was a pretty standard ship by all accounts, so you figured you wouldn’t find it too hard to learn where things were. You followed as he ducked into a room, the door sliding open.

The room itself wasn’t too bad, a bit small but that was to be expected. In all honesty, you wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d asked you to share quarters, so it slightly surprised you that they gave you your own personal quarter. A small fresher was tucked into the corner, though it only had a sink and a toilet.

“The showers are down the hall, they’re shared.” Hunter jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

You just smiled, setting your bags down on the bunk. “Thank you. I honestly kinda expected having to share quarters. This is really nice,” you said honestly.

He blinked at you. “You shared bunks with the 501st?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah?”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything else. “Feel free to get comfortable. You can look around the ship and get used to it whenever you want. The galley is on the other side of the ship, and everyone’s quarters are on this side.”

You nodded, belatedly realizing that he didn’t even stop to see your reaction before ducking back through the door and walking off. With a glance around, you decided to unpack. This would be your home for a while, after all. Might as well make the best of it.

After looking around the ship and getting familiar with it, you found yourself wandering into what seemed to be a common, shared space. You’d taken your mug to the galley and made some caf, stowing away some of your own tea paraphernalia in an empty shelf out of the way.

Tech sat in the room, going through datapads in his own corner. He looked up, observing you through his goggles with a blink.

You gave him a hesitant smile. “Um, do you mind if I sit?”

He blinked, then nodded. “Oh, sure. Anyone can come in here, it’s a common room,” he said, motioning to the seats that were scattered around. “Oh, uh... Hunter said to give you the rundown, by the way.”

You crossed the room, sitting in a chair close to him. “Rundown?” you asked, setting your mug down.

He handed you a datapad. “This is the data I’ve gathered and compiled about Force 99. I thought it might be useful to you since you said you need to work closely with a group, and I’ve been meaning to create a profile for a while now anyway so it was a good excuse,” he seemed to be babbling a bit, reaching up to adjust his goggles and avoiding direct eye contact with you.

You glanced down at the display screen to see Hunter’s name at the top, a chunk of material following it.

Tech was still rambling on, fiddling with another datapad. “I mean, I know we’re also supposed to get to know you, but I guessed that letting you know about all of our desired mutations and details about our weapons preferences might be a good way to start, you know? Since you also said you’re a weapons expert, I mean. I added some footage of our missions as well for reference and all, since I tend to record most of them.”

You smiled, deciding to cut in and stop his nervous rambling. “Thank you so much, Tech. Oh, is it okay if I call you that?”

He blinked, looking at you briefly. “Oh, sure. I mean, it’s my name. Uh, what should I-?”

You laughed a little, tucking your feet up onto the chair. “You can either call me (Name) or Shiv, I like and answer to both.” You pulled out your own datapad. “Do you mind if I transfer this data to my own pad? That way I can make notes without stealing yours.”

He nodded. “Oh, sure, of course. The information was compiled for you, anyway.”

“Thank you, Tech,” you said again, touched that he’d gone that far. “I appreciate it, a lot. It’ll really help me try to integrate myself in the best way.” You gave him a smile.

He hesitantly nodded, taking back the datapad from you after you’d finished transferring the files.

You quickly lost yourself in the wealth of information, making notes and highlighting some key characteristics that you noted in the files. Tech had really done an immaculate job, considering that you’d been an unexpected arrival and addition to the group. As you continued learning more about the group, you began to understand why they were nicknamed the “Bad Batch” by the others. It barely irked you, though you knew that the premise of the whole name was rather... derogatory.

You’d already been treated much like a clone for most of your life, anyway. You’d been born a weapon, a tool, nothing but cannon fodder ever since this war had even started. Here you were, at twenty-something years old, and all you remembered was a life of surviving, living, fighting, and forcing yourself to be a tool.

The clones had welcomed you in, had given you a sense of camaraderie, understanding, and family. You’d found a sense of purpose despite your status as an outcast. And the more you read about the Bad Batch, the more you found yourself understanding why Rex might have specifically considered this particular group to assign you to.

You completely lost track of time, going over the information and committing it to memory, taking time to make meticulous notes about their weaponry. You only stopped once you’d gone through the written information, turning to Tech.

“Excuse me, Tech.”

Starting, he looked up at you owlishly as though he’d forgotten you even existed in the same room. “Oh- y-yes?”

“Is there a holodeck I can link to? So I can get a closer analysis of the footage?” you asked, motioning to the datapad.

“Oh, right!” He shuffled over to the other side of the room, grabbed a holoscreen, and handed it over. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” You gave him a fleeting smile, then hooked up the datapad to the holoscreen display. Putting the footage on complete mute, you began to scrutinize it frame by frame, expanding some scenes and rotating the screens to get a different vantage point. You did notice that sometimes it was harder to catch Crosshair’s movements since he was, after all, a sniper, but you did manage to isolate quite a few moments of his meticulous shots and get a bead on his location and vantage points.

You were so immersed in examining the footage, highlighting reels, and going through your well-versed motions that the feeling of someone tapping your shoulder well and truly took you off-guard. You instantly froze, eyes narrowing as your awareness instantly honed in on your surroundings. It only took half a second to recall where exactly you were, and you shook yourself with a sharp inhale.

You turned to the person who had tapped you. “Sorry-“

Hunter observed you with a piercing look. “Why did you freeze?” He demanded.

You blinked, mouth opening, scrambling for an answer. “Um- I lost track of my surroundings and had to regroup myself, Sergeant,” you found yourself answering almost mechanically, the tone of his voice forcing an answer from your conditioned mind.

“Why would you freeze? Why wouldn’t you immediately react in order to assess a threat?” Hunter asked ruthlessly, crossing his arms.

The question felt oddly familiar. It didn’t take much for you to find an answer. “As a weapon, sir, my first reactions are necessarily different from most other people,” you said quietly, heart pounding in your chest. It didn’t help that you now knew that his enhanced senses most likely heard it. “If I were to immediately react, I would end up thoughtlessly killing the person or object that had surprised me.” You swallowed, looking down at your feet. “I learned my mistakes the hard way, by completely destroying everything and everyone within five meters of me.”

A silence fell in the room, while you ruthlessly tried to push away the memories that loomed at the edge of your mind.

Hunter finally spoke. “Understood.” He cleared his throat. “I... apologize.”

You looked up, eyes widening. “N-no need to apologize, Sergeant. You should know, especially since I-I’m supposed to be working with you.”

He nodded, then glanced behind you at the frozen footage. “I see that Tech has given you the files he compiled.”

You started, then turned around and scooped up the datapad. “Yes sir, I’ve been going over the information and trying to compile all the necessary information I can before the- the mission tomorrow,” you explained hurriedly.

He nodded. “I appreciate the dedication. You’ve been here for four chrons. You might want to get some food.”

You stared down at the clock on the datapad, realizing that it really had been hours since you started. Reaching up, you dragged a hand through your hair a little ruefully.

“Thank you.” You gave Hunter a sheepish smile. “I probably should. I tend to... get lost in my work.”

He nodded, then wordlessly stepped back out of the room.

Tech glanced at you, still working on his own stuff.

You sighed and set down the datapad, turning to Tech. “I should go get myself something to eat. Can I bring you something, Tech?” you offered.

He looked up at you. “Oh- that’s- I mean, you don’t have to, I-“

You just quirked him a smile. “You’ve been here the whole time, too. I’ll go get us both something to eat.” Giving him a wave, you headed out to go find the galley and something to eat.

You poked around the available ingredients in the galley before deciding on a quick but filling dish, whipping up enough for everyone. Hesitating after you finished cleaning up, you decided to at least try. Leaving two portions on the counter, you grabbed scrap paper and scribbled Crosshair’s and Wrecker’s names on them. Leaving them for the other two to find, you grabbed the other three portions and headed back to the common room.

Setting down the bowls, you handed one to Tech. “Nothing fancy, but it should go down easy,” you laughed a little.

He took it, surprise flickering over his face. “Th-thanks.”

You nodded, then grabbed another portion. “I’ll be right back.” Leaving your own bowl on the table, you went to go find Hunter. You found him in the cockpit after ten minutes of searching, making him look up as you approached the doorway.

You gave him a hesitant smile, holding out the bowl. “Um, maybe you’ve already eaten but... I made some for everyone, if you’re... hungry,” you said, trailing off and starting to second-guess yourself. What if he didn’t like that kind of food, or thought you had some sort of ulterior motive? What if-

But after staring at your for half a minute, he got up and approached, almost gingerly taking the bowl from you. “Thanks,” he said.

You nodded and skittered away, barely waiting to see his response or hear anything else. Mortified, you paused in the hallway and clapped your hands to your cheeks, shaking yourself. It was fine. You didn’t have to be thatnervous, honestly. It wasn’t like you’d done something ridiculous, just offered him some food is all. It was normal. Completely normal. Right?

You decided to return to your spot and drown your embarrassment in your research again. After all, you did have good motivation. Tomorrow morning would be your first mission.

#The bad batch #tbb #star wars #Clone wars #the clone wars #sw #my writing #x reader #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #hunter #the bad batch x reader #Writing #my fic #fanfic

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gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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You are my home💚💙

Happy Valentine’s Destiel Wedding Day everyone!

Part 2 of my Destiel wedding series.

Click here for the masterpost.

Thanks @bonchickabelle for your support

~2,8k words

“Are you nervous?” Sam teased Dean, who stood in front of the mirror, tugging his tie straight. He thought about it for a moment “Excited? Sure, can’t wait to see Cas again after you forced us to spend last night apart for some stupid tradition. Nervous? No. It’s Cas I’m marrying.” Sam smiled knowingly, already half out the door. “I’m very happy for you two!” Alone again, Dean’s eyes drifted back to the mirror and he placed his hand on his shoulder, right over Cas’ handprint. He meant what he had said to Sam. It had been the first night they had been apart since he got Cas back and he barely slept. He had just felt wrong without hearing Cas’ gentle breaths, without being able to wrap his arms around the former angel and without feeling the weight of Cas’ head on his chest. But was he nervous? Not at all. He was almost surprised at how calm he felt. He’d never been this sure about anything in his life. After today, he would never have to spend another night without Cas.

Everything was perfect. Everyone they knew had insisted on helping with the wedding in one way or another. Sam wanted to officiate them, he got his license as soon as he heard the happy news. Eileen had taken the grooms separately to shop for wedding suits, Jack had promised them a warm, sunny day and handmade the invitations with Claire. Jody and Donna had baked their wedding cake, Ellen and Jo contributed a dozen homemade pies, Bobby took care of the bar and the catering. Garth and Bess promised to capture the whole day on their cameras. Gabe offered to be their DJ and Ash took care of all the technical stuff. Rowena had promised them truly magical fireworks at night, while Crowley and Benny were in charge of the security, although that shouldn’t be necessary ever since Jack became god.

Charlie and Dorothy had not only offered their vast, beautiful property as their wedding venue, they had also taken care of the decorations. The ceremony was set to take place on the Southern side of their house. An aisle led through rows of white chairs up to a little lake in front of which they had placed a rectangular wooden arc, decorated with greenery and big white flowers that stood out brightly against the blue water in the background. The Western side of the house was already equipped with a big dance floor around which tables, a big buffet and a bar had been set up. To top it all off, Charly and Dorothy had hanged fairy lights in every single tree on their property, which would create a magical atmosphere at night.

Lost in thoughts, Dean adjusted the flower on his lapel and smiled at the mirror. He never thought that he – Dean fucking Winchester – would ever get married. And yet here he was. His phone buzzed and his smile became even wider as he saw who texted him.

[Cas 10:34] Dean?

[Dean 10:35] What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now😉

[Cas 10:37] No, my feet are perfectly fine, why would they be cold?

Dean rolled his eyes, amused at his fiancé’s confusion.

[Dean 10:37] Not literally, that’s an expression for someone who has second thoughts on their wedding day. What’s going on?

[Cas 10:38] Oh. I see. I’m nervous that I might act weird because I don’t know all wedding customs. So I wanted to ask if you could maybe help me out when I’m about to make a fool out of myself.

[Dean 10:39] Sure thing, sunshine, but don’t worry about acting right, it’s your wedding day, all you have to do is enjoy it. And everybody here knows you’re a little weird😉

Without a knock, Charlie barged in. “What’s up bitch, you ready? Cause your fiancé is and he’s smokin’ hot.” She winked as she noticed Dean’s blushing cheeks. “Yeah, I’m ready. Where’s Bobby?” “Already waiting downstairs for you. I have to go, see you in a few”. As quick as she had come, she disappeared again. Dean took another glance at the mirror to make sure everything was perfect before he left the room.

Downstairs Bobby and Ellen were laughing over a glass of scotch. When Bobby noticed Dean, he smiled and reached up to adjust his baseball cap, scoffing when he realized that he didn’t wear one today. “Lookin’ good” he grumbled. Ellen gave Bobby a quick peck on his cheek and winked at Dean as she went to take a seat. “I’m glad ya two idjits finally got the sticks out of your asses. Took ya long enough.” Dean chuckled nervously, his cheeks turning red again. “Thanks Bobby. Truth is I still don’t know how I got this lucky.” “Well, ya really deserve this, ya know? You’re a good man. He’s lucky to be with you. And I like him. Never seen you this happy.” After a pause he added “I’m very proud of you son.” Fumbling with the empty glass Ellen had left behind on the table in front of him, Dean replied “Bobby... Thank you. You’ve always been a father for me, unlike John, who... Anyways, thank you. For everything.” Dean swallowed, unable to put his love and gratitude for this man into words, but as he looked up at Bobby’s face, he caught him wiping over suspiciously wet eyes. “Idjit” he grunted, pulling Dean into a bone crushing hug. He nodded at the clock. “Ya ready? We gotta go.” “Ready” Dean replied, and he meant it. He was more than ready for this.

Or maybe he wasn’t. He was more than ready to marry Cas, but he wasn’t prepared for the sight of all his loved ones in one place, alive – thanks to Jack – gathered to celebrate with him. He always thought the only occasion where they’d all come together would be for his funeral, and he didn’t even expect that since most of them had been dead until a few months ago. Grateful and touched to see how many people where there because they loved him and Cas, Dean fought back some tears. While Garth’s kids waddled down the aisle, scattering white rose petals, Bobby squeezed Dean’s arm, as if he could sense all those thoughts whirling in his head. Dean nodded, linked their arms and let Bobby lead him down the aisle where Sammy already waited with a big grin and an even bigger stack of notes for his speech.

Back in the house, Charly gave Cas an encouraging smile and handed him a gorgeous bouquet of white and yellow flowers. “Thank you for leading me down the aisle, I was made aware that that would usually be the responsibility of one’s father...” “There’s nothing usual about this wedding..” Charly teased him. “Besides, you’ve been my bestie ever since we first met, of course I’m gonna walk you down the aisle!” She linked their arms. “Ready?” Cas nodded. “Ready...” Leaning in, he added with a proud smirk “...bestie”. The doors swung open and they stepped outside.

All heads turned around to see Cas, but he didn’t even notice. He was completely captivated by the sight of his fiancé, who let out a little gasp before breaking into a wide smile. His eyes made those cute crinkles that Cas loved so much and as he came closer, he could see a tear roll over Dean’s check. Usually, although Dean had become way more relaxed over the last months, Cas could always sense a lingering alertness in him. But now... he seemed completely at peace. Cas quickly blinked away some tears. He didn’t want anything to cloud his vision, he needed to preserve this image in his mind. His navy-blue suit combined with a simple black tie and a white flower on the lapel suited Dean incredibly well. He was beautiful and Cas’ heart skipped a beat at the thought that it was him who caused the pure adoration and happiness on Dean’s face.

Charlie led Cas towards him with excruciatingly slow steps. Dean could barely restrain himself from running towards them. Cas was indeed smoking hot in his black suit, the baby blue tie perfectly matching the color of his big, loving eyes. Their eyes locked and Cas smiled at him with his adorable alien head tilt. Dean took a deep breath in, smiling at his fiancé, whose eyes glistened suspiciously. Cas seemed completely awestruck, and Dean felt a little lightheaded like he always did when Cas looked at him like that... like he meant the world to him.

Charly placed Cas’ hand in Dean’s. “Hey handsome! Missed me last night?” Dean whispered with a wink. “Hello Dean. I missed you very much indeed”. Murmuring “Me too”, Dean softly leaned his forehead against Cas’. The grooms stood there for a moment with closed eyes and fond smiles on their faces, the longing for each other almost unbearable. Cas finally pulled away and stated softly: “You are incredibly beautiful”. He turned towards Sam. Dean blushed at the seriousness in Cas’ voice and slowly turned to face his brother as well, not without glancing at Cas’ concentrated face once more and shooting him a loving smile from the side. While Sam held his unsurprisingly deep and thoughtful speech, Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s, who squeezed it lightly in response.

When it was time to say their vows, Dean took Cas’ hands in his and started shakily: “So, uhm, I’d like to start if that’s okay. Cas – you’re my best friend. And you’re the love of my life. I never thought I’d ever say something like that, I didn’t exactly think love was in the cards for me. I never let anyone close. But you...” His furrowed brows softened, and he broke into a fond smile, adopting Cas’ little head tilt. “You immediately got to me – well, right after I stabbed you... Sorry for that, buddy.” He winked and Cas chuckled softly. Dean continued, his voice overflowing with love: “I love your weird, quirky personality. I love that you’re such an openhearted, adorable little dude and at the same time you’re brave, strong and one hell of a badass. You never stop surprising me. You have the most loving, pure and beautiful soul.” Dean’s voice started to crack. “You know me better than anyone, heck, you probably even know me better than I know myself. You looked into my soul and you love me for exactly who I am, which is the best gift you could have ever given me.” Firmly holding Cas’ gaze, he added seriously: “I promise to always love and support you unconditionally, in our human life together and beyond. I’ve been yours ever since you first laid a hand on me. And I swear I will be yours for all of eternity. I love you Cas, so damn much.”

Cas looked at him completely lovestruck, tears glistening in his eyes. In a low, gravelly voice he declared: “I never truly belonged anywhere. I never... functioned the way I was supposed to. And you made me realize that that’s okay. That freedom and free will were more preferable than being a brainwashed soldier of heaven. You gave me your friendship, you made me part of your family. You taught me to love.” He cupped Dean’s face, gently brushing his thumb over Dean’s freckled cheeks. Squinting his eyes in adoration at the miracle before him, he added: “You are the most perfect, selfless and loving human being I have ever known.” Tears started rolling down Dean’s cheeks, he still had a hard time accepting that someone – especially Cas – would think so highly of him. Receiving this praise in front of such a big audience made him blush. “Dean, you are my home. I love you. Forever.” He pressed a soft kiss on Dean’s forehead and wiped away his tears. Dean almost drowned in his loving eyes, completely overwhelmed with affection.

Claire and Jack came up to give them their rings. Claire handed Cas a ring and whispered: “Congrats Ca... Dad”. Cas froze up for a second, tilting his head, squinting his eyes, trying to understand if she really just meant that or if it had just slipped out on accident. When she gave him a shy confirming smile, he pulled her into a strong hug. Jack handed Dean a ring with a “Hello Dad” and a short hug, before tugging on Claire’s hand to pull her back to their seats. The almost married couple shared a confused look after what just happened, Dean opening his mouth to ask “Did they just call us..?” “I believe they did”, Cas replied happily.

Sam moved on with the ceremony and let them repeat some more promises to each other before posing the final question: “Do you, Castiel, take Dean Winchester as your lawfully wedded husband?” Cas answered earnestly “I do.” Sam turned to Dean to repeat his question: “Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel as your lawfully wedded husband?” Dean grinned widely, eyes crinkling around the edges: “Hell yeah, I do!” Sam asked them to exchange their rings to seal their bond and Cas took Dean’s hand gently in his. He slipped the ring on slowly, looking deeply into Dean’s beaming green eyes. Dean then slipped a ring onto Cas’ finger, his fingertips lingering longer than necessary. Sam finally pronounced them “...husband and husband. You may now kiss your groom!” Under the roaring cheers of their loved ones, Dean cupped Cas’ face while his husband pulled him close, arms wrapped around his waist. Their lips found each other easily, all of their adoration blooming into a chaste, soft kiss. Cas spontaneously bent Dean backwards, who gasped into his mouth in surprise, before letting himself fall into the strong embrace. Their kiss deepened, both too far gone to hear the excited cheers and whistles around them. It took them a while to gather the strength to break apart, foreheads resting against each other for one more moment before turning to the cheering crowd. Dean linked their hands and raised them up, as Sam exclaimed loudly: “I present to you Mr. and Mr. Winchester!”

The party afterwards was one for the books. Everyone had a blast and surprisingly enough, everyone got along perfectly, which wasn’t exactly a given on a party were hunters and supernatural beings came together. Donna’s and Jody’s wedding cake was mind-blowingly delicious. It was a white cake with three tiers and a figurine of the happy couple on top, wearing their trademark flannel and trenchcoat. When they cut the cake open, it revealed a colorful surprise. The top tier was colored like the bisexual pride flag. The second tier was chocolate-brown and the bottom tier looked like a rainbow flag. Dean insisted on feeding Cas with some cake and “accidentally” smeared frosting on Cas’ face. After he had kissed it away shamelessly, which earned them loud cheers and whistles from their guests, Dean pulled his husband onto the dance floor for their first dance.

They both didn’t exactly know how to dance, but it didn’t matter. They were just happy to feel the comforting warmth of their bodies against each other and melted into a tight embrace. As they were swaying gently, eyes closed and faces buried in each other’s necks, they didn’t realize that the first song had long blended into the next one. After a couple of songs, Dean opened his eyes for a moment, watching all the people he loved enjoy themselves. Jody and Donna slow-danced next to them and Eileen tried to teach Sam how to dance, hoping not to get her toes crushed. The brothers exchanged a big smile that said: “We’re so damn lucky”. Rowena stood at the DJ-table with Gabe, brushing a hand over his arm and whispering something in his ear. Crowley and Benny seemed to hit it off at the bar and Claire and Jack tried to teach Sonny some “tictoc-dance”, whatever that was, while Miracle excitedly jumped around their feet. Dean closed his eyes again and sank even deeper into the feeling of Cas’ arms wrapped around him.

The party carried on deep into the night, roaring rock classics long having replaced the quiet couple-dance music, everyone partying on the dance floor or sharing stories and laughs at the bar. As the newlyweds sat down to chat with Sam and Eileen over some drinks, Cas looked at his husband lovingly. He was overjoyed to see Dean beaming happily from being among all the people he loved, no danger in sight. As Dean caught Cas starring, he gave him a gentle peck and got up. He linked their hands as they strolled towards the lake, the party sounds fading into low background noises. They leaned up against each other, the reflections of stars and fairy lights glistening on the water as they held each other close in the cold night air. Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas’ hair and pressed a gentle kiss on his head. Cas turned to see Dean’s glowing eyes and pulled him into a long, achingly tender kiss. They were home.

#I've been working on this for 2 weeks now #destiel wedding #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #castiel winchester #destiel wedding fic #deancas wedding #supernatural wedding #spn #supernatural #supernatural family #happy destiel wedding day #spn wedding #saileen #destiel fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Forget Me Not Chapter 30 ~Vows~

Brian escorted Claire down the stairs from the little room to the small hallway of the chapel. The day was mild and clear, and sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows. It was a perfect day for a wedding. The arched doorframe in the foyer was threaded with forget-me-nots and lily-of-the-valley and the air smelled of fresh flowers after a spring rain. The strains of Somewhere Over the Rainbow played on the piano and cello, and the soft murmurs of the wedding guests drifted to where they were stood. For a moment, Claire closed her eyes and sought a distant memory.

"Did yer ma and da have a big fancy wedding like aunt Jocasta?" a thirteen-year-old Jamie asked Claire.

They were sat under a tree sharing a plate of cake, away from the rest of the wedding guests. Ellen's sister had just married her second husband. It was a garden wedding party complete with an eight-piece band, a professional caterer and a wedding planner orchestrating the sumptuous and stylish event.

Pushing her specs up on the bridge of her nose, Claire looked at Jamie thoughtfully. "Uncle Lamb told me they were married in the registry office. He said it was a quick and simple ceremony. My ma didn't even have a wedding dress."

Jamie forked the last piece of cake and offered it to her, and when she shook her head, he ate the remaining morsel. "Hmmm, our ma and da eloped, so they didn't have a fancy wedding either."

She sighed. "I know. One day, when I get married, I would like to wear a pretty white dress and look like a princess. And of course, there would be lots and lots of pretty flowers and three different flavoured cakes. And I want my husband to be my best friend, someone who is not too bothered about my braces."

"Braces or no', ye'd make a pretty bride. And I'm yer best friend, which means ye can marry me."

Claire gasped. "Jamie! Don't be daft! We're like brother and sister, so we can't marry!"

"We're not really brother and sister, Sassenach!" Jamie countered defensively, a frown forming on his forehead. "Trust me, we'll be allowed to marry. Everyone has to marry eventually, so I might as well marry a girl who's not too squirmish about beasties and who likes things I like ... like sports and chips and dips and fishing."

Claire wrinkled her nose. "But beasties and sports are not really romantic. Romance is important in marriage. I know because I've seen it in movies. But before you marry someone, you need to do all the boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. Like going to the movies and sharing popcorn and moonlight strolls."

"Ye mean dates? Aye, of course, but first I would need to save money. All these dating palavers are pricey. Willie told me so," he explained, matter-of-factly as he stood up and offered her his hand. Once upright, he brushed some stray grass from her skirt and tap her on the nose. "I only have 200 quid in my stash, but by the time ye're allowed to go on dates, I should have more. Then I can take ye for icecream and buy ye those frosted lip gloss ye like. Just like on a date."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You're not saying that to be nice, are you?"

"Of course not. What a silly question!"

She twirled a curl in one finger and pondered some more, watching Jamie with interest as he pulled out a tissue from his pocket and wiped a smudge of buttercream from the corner of her mouth. "Alright, then. But you do know, while on a date, ye need to be gentlemanly. That's what women are supposed to like while on a date."

"Aye, of course, I need to work on that," he mumbled, stuffing the used tissue in his pocket and straightening her glasses. After inspecting her thoroughly, he smiled with satisfaction. "There ye go. Come on, let's go. Ma and da will be wondering what we're up to." After grabbing the plate from the ground, he took her hand and pulled her along toward the wedding party.

"And it's a boyfriend's job to take care of his girlfriend."

"Dinna fash, Sassenach, I will try my best to remember."

Brian's gentle pressure on her hand broke her reverie, and Claire turned to look at him. The serene joy in his demeanour calmed the flurry of emotions in her soul and grounded her. "So this is it," he smiled, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Thank you for being there every step of the way, da," she whispered.

"Nothing to thank me for, sweetheart. Ye are a blessing. I thank God every day ye came to our lives. I have had many profound and meaningful experiences in my life, but this moment ...to walk ye down the aisle is a gift I will always treasure and hold close to my heart. I am proud and thankful for the girl I raised to the woman you have become," he said, patting her hand.

"And I am proud to call you, my da."

Before she could catch her breath, Jenny snapped them to attention. "Right, lassies, showtime," Jenny chirped. She turned and cocked her head at her. "Claire bear?"

She nodded with a smile and took a deep breath.

Her bridesmaids were stood in their places, and the ushers waited for Jenny's signal.

As the double doors opened, the background music coming from the piano and cello faded away to be replaced with the soft melody of the song A Thousand Years . Everyone hushed and turned towards the entrance, their cameras poised to capture the moment. One by one, her bridesmaids made their way to the altar, looking graceful and ethereal in their chiffon dresses.

When it was their turn to walk down the aisle, the music ceased, and the sound of a bagpipe echoed the traditional Highland Wedding March, heralding their presence. Everyone stood and held their breaths. The priest was at the front of the altar, clutching the bible in his hands. Flowers were scattered on the runner and adorned the pews. The benches were filled with friends and families, radiating love and awe, and murmuring praises at the sheer beauty of it all.

Claire's tears threatened to spill, and her heart squeezed as the outpouring of love came in waves. It was everything she had envisioned her wedding to be and much, much more. And for a moment, time stood still, and it felt like she was reliving every second she had ever shared with the Fraser family. And that was when she sensed the presence of her parents. She recognised it from the depths of her soul and in her heart, as they began walking down the aisle. The feeling was like being wrapped in a divine cloak, as comfort, happiness, warmth and peace enveloped her. She bowed her head in silent acknowledgement and prayer. Thank you, mum and dad.

When she finally looked up, Jamie's eyes held hers, and everything else became a blur. From thereon, all thoughts were suspended, and all consciousness of her surrounding dissolved. Her sole focus centred on Jamie. Ignoring the ribbing from his older brother, his face broke into a radiant smile, and he placed a hand over his heart. The simple gesture took her breath away, and the tenderness and adoration on his handsome face bestowed her the realisation he was just as overwhelmed.

Dressed like Brian and Willie in a traditional Clan Fraser tartan and formal jacket, he was a vision to behold. The added plaid placed over one shoulder, secured with a brooch only emphasised his massive breadth and staggering height. The sunlight that streamed through the windows created a halo with his unruly coppery locks, and his clean-shaven face made him look like an angel.

As if caught in slow motion, she watched him step forward, feasting at the beautiful figure he presented. She loved the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, the full sensual curve of his lips and the masculine gracefulness when he moved despite the evident limp. Knowing he truly belonged to her, fulfilled her in a way she had never experienced before and she would take each moment of their time together as a precious gift, never to be taken for granted.

Then he was stood before them, resplendent and striking in his Highland garb.

Brian spoke first.

"My lad, I present to ye, yer bride." Ignoring the formality and custom of a simple handshake, Brian released Claire to hug his son. After a few heartwarming seconds, he pulled away and placed both his hands on Jamie's shoulders and looked at him with emotional intensity. "The day ye asked me for Claire's hand in marriage was the day I finally stopped worrying about who will look after her when I no longer can." Choked with emotion, he kissed Claire on the cheek before taking her hand and placing it over Jamie's. "It's worth bearing in mind that neither of ye will ever be perfect, but together, ye are perfect. Go with God, the both of ye." Then he stepped back to join his teary wife on the bench.

Claire smiled and mouthed I love you to Ellen before refocusing her attention to Jamie. She gazed at him for a while, committing to memory the look on his face. Oblivious to the people around them, she reached out to touch him, but he took her hand and whispered in her ears. "Ye look beautiful, Sassenach but then again, ye are always beautiful in every way. And there doesn't exist a part of you which I don't love. And I want ye to know I'll never forget this day."

"Neither will I, Jamie."

His lips tugged in the corner. "Come now, let's make an honest woman out of ye," he teased, tucking her hand into his arm and guiding her to the altar.

Although it's a known fact that Catholic wedding ceremonies tend to be lengthy, the nuptial mass flew by in a haze, and Claire felt like she was floating in a dream world. The only thing that kept her rooted to that moment was Jamie's hand firmly holding hers. When it was his turn to recite his vows, everything suddenly became clear and sharp. Every nuance, movement, expression and word was carefully stored in her memory vault to treasure forever.

She watched him take out a piece of paper from his sporran with trembling hands. It had been folded numerous times until it was just a mere bundle. Carefully, he unfolded his written vows and stared at it for the longest time. It seemed he was having difficulty reading it. Taking a peek at the paper he held, she knew it was written with great care and thoroughness for he loathed writing with his hand.

Feeling his struggle, she wanted to reassure him that it was alright if he couldn't recite his vows. She understood how weddings could get emotional, and with so many eyes watching, nerves could go awry.

Suddenly, to her surprise, he stuffed the paper back into his sporran and looked up. "Ah bugger it, I'm just going to wing it," he announced. His ears turned pink when everyone laughed. Swiftly remembering where he was, he turned to the priest, looking contrite. "Apologies, father ...I guess I'm a wee bit nervous."

The priest nodded in understanding and gestured for him to carry on.

Taking a step forward, Jamie took her hand in his and gazed into her eyes, allowing her to see every emotion and every feeling he had no words for. "Sassenach, I'm just going to speak from the heart. Painful as it is to admit, I cannae read my own handwriting." He paused for a bit when everyone laughed once more. Clearing his throat, he continued. "I wish I could promise ye the world because I ken ye deserve it. Unfortunately, the world isn't mine to give. But I do promise ye my world and everything in it. It may not be much, but all that I am and all that I have is yers. I wish I could promise smooth sailing, but as ma said, marriage is a lot of hard work, and there will be sacrifices and trials along the way. But what I do promise is to stand by ye and uplift ye, so that we can accomplish more than we could alone and weather the storm together. I wish I could give ye riches and deck ye in jewels, but there's no certainty I will be a rich man one day. What I do promise is a life of abundance, an abundance of my love and support. I can't even promise I'll never hurt ye because even the best of intentions sometimes fall short. What I do promise is to always reach for ye over my pride. Above all, I promise to love ye fiercely in all of your forms, now and forever. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might tear us apart, we will always find our way back to each other."

After Jamie's impassioned speech, there was not a dry eye in the house, and she couldn't care less about ruining her make up. His words and his vows lit up the inner recesses of the soul, touching her heart, knowing full well, the man who stood before her meant every word he uttered. There was a sense of homecoming and completion, but at the same time, a new beginning as he slid the ring over her finger. For a moment, she thought she imagined a stirring in her belly. It was as if their unborn child was celebrating in the blessing of their union. And soon, not long after, they were declared husband and wife to the cheers of their family and friends.

..........

The reception was held in a small spa resort overlooking a lake and spread out over acres of property in rustic beauty. Winding paths encircled the area, and the fields were clothed in colourful wildflowers. The weather held out and the dying sun drenched the fields in golden light and flickering warmth.

The entire wedding was a dream come true, and in such a short time, everyone was able to pull all the stops to make their wedding day possible. Every small detail was a contribution from family and friends, making it all the more special and personal. Not once did she have to worry about any aspect of their wedding, with everyone taking over and impressing upon her that stress could be harmful to her baby.

Midnight drew close, and the DJ announced the last dance. Everyone crammed onto the floor for one final celebration. Exhausted but happy, Claire headed towards the cake display instead.

A warm hand encircled her wrist. She turned and found Jamie staring down at her, his eyes the hues of ocean and sky, gleaming with intensity and mild intoxication. "Dance with me, Sassenach," he said in a low voice. "I ken ye're tired, but after our first dance earlier, I hardly had a chance to be alone with ye."

She smiled and let him lead her out to the dancefloor. Sighing with contentment, she went into his arms and nestled her head against his shoulders. They swayed to the slow strains as they pressed closer together. His breath warmed her cheeks as she inhaled his scent of aftershave, citrus and expensive whisky. A hand caressed her back, sending a tingly pleasure to spread all over her body.

"Thank ye, Sassenach," he whispered against her ears.

Startled, she looked up, and her eyes widened. "For what?"

He smiled. "For making me the happiest man alive. For our baby. For being patient with me. For being ye."

She softened against him, and a sigh escaped from her lips. "Smooth talker," she said teasingly. "Kidding aside, I am one very, very happy bride, thanks to you." Her finger traced a circle on his chest. "And, that speech today was quite impressive. Who would've thought, after all these years I've known you, you are still capable of surprising me? What other secret talents do you have hiding up your sleeves?"

His laugh rumbled from his chest. "Ach, Sassenach, at least I know I can still surprise ye. But I won't reveal all my secrets just yet. I need to keep ye on your toes."

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, is that so? Well, I have a few of my own I will not be revealing too soon either. Maybe make you work for the gold, right?"

"Dinna mind working hard for the gold but we have a lifetime of discovery ahead of us." He then lowered his voice. "And it starts tonight."

Her heart jumped, and suddenly she was caught up in the promise of his arms holding her close. Before she could dwell further, the slow rhythm of the song built, morphing into a blaring dance that belted out the lyrics that everyone knew by heart.

With a wink, Jamie spun her out of his arms and fell into the steps of a fast dance. He twirled her around the floor with grace, strength and humour, and the rest of the party threw themselves into the music and enjoyed the final pounding beat. Their family and friends surrounded them, stomping their feet and pumping their hands in the air and Claire revelled with laughter at the enthusiastic celebration of love.

It was a good hour before everyone finally left the reception, save for the family. Sliding off her shoes, she sat wearily on a chair. She was joined by Jenny, Geillis, Ian and Willie, each holding a drink. Jamie, Brian and Ellen headed outside saying a few goodbyes to leftover guests, who spoke of moving the party over to the bar.

"Oh, my God! I can't believe ye're married!" Jenny squealed.

"Weel, they were as good as a married couple living together," Geillis chuckled. "Jamie practically lived in the house."

Laughing, Claire took their hands and squeezed them affectionately. "I can't believe I'm married either. Everything was perfect. Everyone made it perfect," she sighed. "I can't tell you how many people have been coming up to me asking who my wedding planner was. They all said they've never seen a wedding so beautiful. They couldn't believe it when I said everyone in the family was the wedding planner."

Willie slapped Ian on the back. "Ye're up next buddy," he grinned cheekily. "Cannae wait for the next stag party."

Jenny let out a breath. "Ye mean, ye cannae wait to have a stripper party."

"Ha! The stripper was Rupert's idea, and our party wasn't as wild as the hens'. Mind, we were all there and saw all of ye shouting at Jamie to strip." Ian said in defence.

All of them laughed. "Oh, it was a wild night, alright," Claire said. "I was the only one who recognised Jamie in his stripper costume. All my hens were too wasted. They all had their beer goggles on."

Geillis groaned. "That was bloody embarrassing ordering Jamie to strip, but let's not talk about that night. Let's talk about today. The wedding was perfection and mind ye, I've been to a lot of fancy weddings but today was so dreamy and romantic."

Claire's eyes welled up. Ever since she became pregnant, she was such a harvest of emotions. "There was so much love from everyone. And everyone's contribution just made it all so special. I have no words," she sniffed.

Jamie's voice rang out. "Uh-oh, here we go. I hope those are happy tears." Jamie pulled Claire from her chair, sat down and settled her on his lap before giving her a noisy kiss on the cheek. "Tired?"

Claire nodded, smiling as she laid her head at the crook of his neck.

Brian and Ellen joined them, holding hands together. "Right, kids we're off. We're getting too old for this. Some of the guests are at the bar, and Murtagh is just about to demonstrate the Highland fling," Brian announced, rocking on his heels. It was quite obvious he had quite a bit to drink. And then he turned to Ellen. "I hope ye remember our room number."

Ellen held up the keys in her hand. "Of course, darling." And then she looked at all of them. "See ye all at the brunch tomorrow. I'll probably check up on the hotel first so I might be a tad late."

Geillis looked at Brian and Ellen thoughtfully. "How do ye do it?" she burst out.

Brian cocked his head. "Do what?"

"Everything!" Geillis replied. "How do ye stay in love while running a hotel and raising kids and stress and life and family? What's the secret?"

Silence fell over the group. Claire sat up on Jamie's lap, Ian rested his chin on Jenny's head, and Willie wrapped his arms around Geillis, all waiting earnestly for the older Frasers' answer.

Ellen looked up at her husband. "Should we tell them the big secret to lifetime bliss?"

Brian grinned. "Aye, why not."

The group held their breath.

Ellen snorted out a laugh. "Sorry to disappoint but there's nae secret. It's a lot of hard work and patience."

"And fights. Lots and lots of arguments. And wrong choices," Brian chuckled as he pulled his wife against him.

"And lots of tears," Ellen added.

"But in the end, it's all worth it," Brian pointed out.

Ellen took her husband's hand in hers. "Dinna fash, ye'll figure it out. Because we did. Come on, darling, let's go."

Then the couple left, leaving them to stare at their retreating figures.

Claire sighed. "Surely, they know the big secret. Why don't they just tell us the real truth?"

There was a lapse of silence before everyone burst into hysterical laughter.

Jenny wiped the tears from her face. "Ma and da are right. There is no big secret. Marriage is a lifetime of many steep learning curves. The best thing ye can do is, hang on tight and enjoy the ride."

"Dinna fash, Sassenach. We already know. And I'm going to make sure we never forget," Jamie said, kissing his new wife. "As long as we have each other, we'll be fine. Come on, let's get ye to bed."

Claire slid her arms around his neck. For a moment, they were lost in each other, alone. Just bride and groom with a brand new life stretching ahead of them. They didn't even notice as the rest of the group left.

And then they kissed for a long time, oblivious to the staffs bustling around them.

..........

Jamie scooped up his new wife into his arms and walked into their bridal suite. He laughed as she squirmed in his arms. "Jamie! I've gained weight. I don't want to be the reason for your back giving way."

He gently put her down in front of the four-poster bed. "Ye're light as a feather, Sassenach. I can carry three times yer size without breaking a sweat." He unbuttoned his shirt and unfastened his sporran, placing them neatly on the armchair.

"Show off!" Momentarily forgetting about his back, her eyes were drawn to the new surrounding. "Oh, what a beautiful room!" she gushed. She bounced twice on the bed to test the firmness of the mattress and giggled. "This room must have cost a fortune." Then she stood up and walked over to the table ladened with a bucket of chilled champagne, a bowl of chocolate-coated strawberries and a vase of wildflowers. "It's a shame I can't drink at my own party."

"It's non-alcoholic fizzy wine, Sassenach." He stood behind her and unclasped her pearl necklace and unpinned her hair, placing the accessories on the table. Then carefully, he unzipped her dress, letting it pool at her feet. "Do you want a glass?"

"Mmm, yes, please." Taking a piece of strawberry with her, she walked away from him in her undergarments to examine the bathroom. "The bathtub is huge enough for ten people," she informed him excitedly.

"Good, then we can take a bath together." Jamie watched her in amusement as she went to explore the living area, complete with television, minibar and an ornate study desk. Quickly, he took the rest of his clothes off and poured the non-alcoholic beverage into the flute glasses. When she came back, her eyes widened, and her skin flushed in awareness as her gaze roamed over his naked body. "Come here," he commanded softly, grinning wickedly at her.

A smile touched her lips as her eyes settled on his erection. "And here I thought you were going to recite poetry on our wedding night."

He laughed low as he watched her openly stare at him. He was delighted at her new confidence even though he knew he could still make her blush. "I think I've created a tease. Ye're torturing me, Sassenach. Now come here and do as ye're told."

Claire's smile was slow and full of promise. Instead of obliging him, she reached back and unclasped her bra and dropped the material on the floor. His breath hitched when she hooked her fingers under the elastic of her panties, dragging the skimpy lace over her hips and thighs and kicking them away from her feet. "If you want me, you have to get me yourself, Mr Fraser," she teased, slowly backing away.

"If that's how ye want to play..." With one swift lunge, he caught her, carried her to bed and dropped her onto the quilt, making her squeal. Laughing, he placed one knee over the mattress and leaned over. His face suddenly turned serious, and he gently stroked her lips with his thumb, teasing the sensitive skin. He dragged in a breath as he gazed at her. "Christ, I'll never tire looking at ye. I can stare at yer face for hours."

She reached out and pulled his head towards her, kissing him with wild abandon. He smiled against her lips, thinking of the first time he taught her how to french kiss. "And I'll never tire of kissing you," she whispered.

He grasped both her wrists and held them above her head with one hand, kissing her deeply as her lips opened to the thrusting motion of his tongue. He cupped the weight of her breasts with the other hand, his thumb tracing a nipple. She arched upward as his mouth moved down her neck, and his knee slid between her legs and opened her for his more intimate touch. "I want ye now, Sassenach. I don't think I can hold on much longer," he muttered under his breath.

She pulled her hands away from his hold and clung to him, wrapping her legs around his hips. "Then take me now and don't be gentle about it."

He pulled away slightly, concern marring his face. "Will the baby be alright if I'm a bit rough?"

She laughed and urged him closer. "I don't think the baby will mind. Now shush and make love to me."

He moved over her and joined his body with hers. Gently at first, he rocked back and forth until her body adjusted to his cock. When she started to moan and flung her head sideways, he pulled back out and slammed inside of her so fast, she convulsed in pleasure against him.

She rode out the climax, whimpering deep in her throat, and hung on as he pounded inside her body until he cried out her name when he reached his peak, never stopping until there was nothing left of either of them.

Spent and exhausted, somehow he managed to roll over. He gathered Claire into his arms and spooned against her, his lips pressed at the nape of her neck. It didn't take long before she relaxed completely in his embrace and fell asleep.

Moonlight beamed through the open window creating shadowy patterns against her pale skin. Carefully, Jamie loosened his hold on her and got out of bed.

For a while, he watched her sleep with a deep peacefulness that made a smile touch his lips. She was curled in a fetal position, one hand tucked under her cheek and her long dark curls fanned out over the pillow. He heard her snore delicately, making him chuckle.

Turning away, Jamie walked to the window and observed the dots of light sprinkling the night skyline. Taking a deep breath, he said a silent prayer, for her and for their unborn child and thanked God for the blessing bestowed upon them on their wedding day.

Their lives were on the brink of change, and he had never been more satisfied with his life. Being with Claire soothed his soul, and with her, he knew he would find the strength to face whatever life throws at them. She was his anchor, his home and his soulmate.

She stirred and murmured in her sleep. Turning away from the window, Jamie walked back to bed and slipped under the covers pulling her close against him. She responded immediately and snuggled closer.

"I love ye so much, Sassenach," he whispered in the dark.

"I love you too, hubby."

He smiled and closed his eyes and allowed sleep to gently embrace him until he was lured into a world of dreams of happily ever after.

THE END

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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houseisekai · 3 years

Text

House Isekai: Shadowbringers -Interlude 2

House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here

—

Interlude: Megumi Sakura

[Spiderweb - Fire Emblem: Three Houses OST]

It was a quiet night at Derdriu. As usual.

Ever since the outbreak of the war, no one dared go out at night, especially when the reports of Angels reached the Alliance.

Not to mention the unholy creatures that Those Who Slithered used to combat the Church.

Everyone in the city was scared of what tomorrow would bring. The fact their leader had gone out with those strange offworlders brought even less comfort to the people of Dedriu.

The guards had been ordered not to utter a word about Claude’s disappearance, lest they bring suspicion onto themselves from those fighting in the war.

They had heard what happened to Fhirdiad and Enbarr. They were keen on not repeating it on themselves.

Percy sighed to himself as he watched the empty roads, leaning against the wall with his lance on his shoulders.

He just wanted to protect his hometown as a soldier of the Alliance, not get wrapped up in...whatever this war was. If you could even call it a war.

What was going on now felt like ants watching wolves tear each other into pieces.

It had been 5 years since the Empire first invaded the Church, but only 2 since all three nations put a halt on their fighting.

The advent of the Church and TWSITD was fierce and ruthless, to the point where the Alliance had complete neutral grounds and took in refugees from all sides into their territories, by order of Claude.

These thoughts continued in Percy’s head until he thought he saw something move in the distance.

He quickly stood up straight and held tightly onto his lance.

Percy knocked on the door behind him, which he could hear the guards hastily grab their weapons.

They eventually went out the door and stood alongside Percy, readying themselves for trouble.

Over the hill, they saw Edelgard, Dimitri, the Professor and far more behind them.

Percy didn’t sigh in relief seeing these familiar faces. In fact it made him even more anxious. Claude had told the guards that group would arrive.

He didn’t explain why.

(Percy) “Professor.”

(Lahabrea) “Percy, right?”

(Percy) “Yes sir. We were told to expect you, you can enter.”

(Lahabrea) “Much appreciated.”

Percy and the other guards opened the gates, closely watching around them to ensure they weren’t followed.

His eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw some House Isekai members carry the professor past him.

(Percy) “What in the...?”

(Guard) “H-Hey, didn’t that professor just...?”

(Guard 2) “What the hell is going on?”

The talk quickly began amongst the guards, and eventually the citizens who saw the group outside their windows.

Lahabrea led the group to the main capital building, where Claude’s second in command, Judith stood outside.

(Judith) “Ah, took you guys long enough. Get in before you cause a scene.”

He nodded and everyone followed suit, entering the building as Judith shut the door behind them.

Byleth, the Persona Users, Sharon, and Megumi went to the infirmary. The rest stayed inside the main hall with Lahabrea.

(Kazuma) “So, NOW can we get some answers as to what the fuck is going on?”

(Lahabrea) “Just a little longer. Claude is supposed to be here tomorrow, and it’s then I’ll answer all the questions you have.”

Rean sighed and put a hand on Kazuma’s shoulder.

(Rean) “It’s late anyway, we should probably get some rest. We’ve been travelling for a few days.”

Kazuma mumbled under his breath as he smacked away Rean’s hand.

(Ainz) “I’m assuming we have rooms of our own?”

(Judith) “Yup. All upstairs, prepared for ya.”

Ainz nodded and went up the stairs, the denizens of Nazarick scattering to the rest of the rooms, only some following Ainz.

Class VII, the Blue Lions, and Black Eagles went upstairs as well to get some much needed rest.

The School-Living Club went to the Infirmary to help out, leaving just Lahabrea in the room by himself.

(Lahabrea) “...”

(Sothis) “You’re sure about this?”

(Lahabrea) “No matter how many times you ask, my answer isn’t changing. Even if by the end of all this they hate me, if they’re safe, it’s all that matters.”

He shook his head and went up the stairs.

(Lahabrea) “We’ve lived too many lives trying to stop this. If this plan even has a slightly better chance of working than Plan B, then I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Sothis shook her head, then quickly faded away.

...

Inside the infirmary, the Persona Users laid on the beds resting, with Byleth at the farthest bed.

Sitri was at Byleth’s side while Sharon and the School-Living Club spoke to the healer.

(Healer) “We see no obvious battle scars, so we think it might be exhaustion. The same goes for the other kids.”

(Megumi) “I-I see.”

(Yuki) “Is there anything we can do to help?”

(Sharon) “You do not have to worry, Miss Yuki. I will help her with whatever she needs. You all must be tired.”

(Miki) “Come on Yuki-senpai, she’s right. We have to rest.”

Yuki hesitated at first but nodded.

(Kurumi) “Thank you, Sharon.”

(Sharon) “Of course. Please rest well everyone.”

(Yuuri) “Let’s go.”

(Megumi) “...You kids go upstairs, I’ll be with you soon.”

Yuuri nodded and the students went upstairs.

Sharon began checking the Persona Users as she pulled out her Arcus unit, leaving only Sitri to notice Megumi going outside.

Sitri looked at Byleth one last time before getting up to follow Megumi.

[Yasashii Megu-nee Arigatou - Gakkou Gurashi OST]

Megumi stood out in the plaza, staring into the water falling from the fountain.

(Megumi) “...”

She stared at her hand quietly thinking to herself as she frowned.

(Sitri’s voice) “Megumi, right?”

Megumi turned around and saw Sitri walk up to her.

(Sitri) “Is everything alright?”

(Megumi) “Ye-...”

Megumi looked behind Sitri, and then around her.

(Megumi) “Truthfully? No, it’s not.”

She sat down on the stone part of the fountain, which Sitri sat beside her.

(Megumi) “I have no idea what’s going on right now. With Byleth, with the kids, myself and you...U-Uh, sorry that came out wrong-”

Sitri giggled.

(Sitri) “Please, don’t worry. It must be...odd, seeing someone come back from the dead.”

(Megumi) “Normally I’d agree but...”

Megumi stared at her own arm again.

(Megumi) “You’re not the only one.”

She sighed as Sitri looked shocked.

(Megumi) “Our world is...not what you’d call ideal, to put it gently. There was an infection you got if you were bit by the dead and you’d become one of them.”

Megumi rolled her sleeve and pointed where the mark used to be.

(Megumi) “I was bit saving my students, Yuuri, Yuki and Kurumi. When my vision went dark-”

(Kazuma) “Shit, she looks beat up bad!”

(Byleth) “There’s blood everywhere, what happened to her?!”

(Aqua) “You guys didn’t try to get a healer first?”

(Alois) “We tried! There’s something in her arm that’s spreading and we can’t stop it!”

...

(Kazuma) “Aqua, it doesn’t look like she’s fully infected yet, so maybe it can stop it before it spreads! We gotta do SOMETHING!”

(Aqua) “Damn, TURN UNDEAD!”

(Megumi) “Kazuma’s group saved me. It gave me a second chance, to teach these children, and...It let me see my own again.”

(Sitri) “But, since you’re out here, I assume you have something on your mind?”

(Megumi) “Those flashes we keep getting? They weren’t visions. They were memories. Each catered to us, from our original world, and our time in Fodlan...For example, I have memories when it was just only me here. No House Isekai, and none of my students.”

(Sitri) “But...you’ve been here this entire time?”

(Megumi) “I have no idea what it means, honestly. But that’s not the part that worries me. I have memories of Yuki-chan, and Kurumi, Yuuri, and even Miki. Even though she was not part of my original group, I still see her memories as well. And I saw them leave the school we trapped ourselves in. And how they are now.”

(Sitri) “...You weren’t there, were you?”

(Megumi) “...No. And I’m sure they saw the same thing.”

Megumi held onto her cross necklace, looking down.

(Megumi) “I have no idea if I’m going to survive this, or if things will play its natural course. But if they’re safe, that’s all that matters to me.”

(Sitri) “I can see why the students and staff look up to you so much.”

(Megumi) “Huh?”

(Sitri) “Even though you’re not confident, you’re still willing to defend your students no matter what.”

Sitri smiled.

(Sitri) “I’m glad you were here for Byleth.”

Megumi smiled back.

(Megumi) “T-Thank you.”

(Sitri) “Though...if you saw what happens in the future and that’s where your students appear to be...why are they acting like their past selves?”

The two remained quiet to process that question.

...Why were they acting as their past selves if the memories that were shown to them was were from the present?

(Megumi) “...If...That’s the case with my group...Then, what about the others?”

(Sitri) “...”

(Megumi) “...S-Sorry, we should probably wait to hear answers from Byle-...Lahabrea.”

(Sitri) “Right...”

Sitri walked Megumi back into the building, and both went to bed.

Tomorrow was going to be very confusing...

[This Beautiful Cruel World - Attack On Titan OST]

Your dream is where your heart is

It’s something more fragile than life itself

No matter how many times you throw it away, you still find it

So rest in peace now

Your wish is violated by your pulsing urge

and as much as you forget about it, you recall it again

In this beautiful and cruel world

We only ask “why” we’re still alive…

Ah, what are we going to protect

with our strength and weakness? If reason no longer exists

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

#House Isekai #House Isekai Shadowbringers #Chris's AU's #sitri eisner #megumi sakura

3 notes · View notes

milkygcf · 4 years

Note

Hi i'd luv 2 req. A bully jungkook x reader e2l fic pls 🥺 5k~ tysm!

//credits go to @jjoon for the gif!//

Pairing | jjk x reader

Genre | e2l, bully!jungkook, college au

Warnings | mild cursing

Summary | ❝ Hi i'd luv 2 req. A bully jungkook x reader e2l fic pls 🥺 5k~ tysm!❞

Word Count | 5.4k

Author’s Note | hi anon! i’m sorry this took so long to write ... this really inspired me to write a full fic! i had to cramp in as much as i could and hopefully it goes to your liking ❤ thank you for your request! ________________________________________________________________

When you hoped for the best college experience, you didn’t mean to bring Jeon Jeongguk along with you. As far as you knew, he had other plans for a different school - so why did you end up spending a year and a half of college facing the worst each day?

It started when you accidentally spilt his juice all over his study notes when a friend of yours jokingly pushed you. From that very day on, he’s been firing you up almost every day of seeing you within his sight. Making you seethe when he steps into your vision. Despite apologizing and offering to rewrite his notes for him, he still made it his mission to make college incredibly agonizing for you.

For example, all the times he’s made you feel like pure, utter shit.

Unlike what his looks demonstrated, Jeon Jeongguk was an absolute bully. You have all the evidence to back this up.

And that so happens to be at this very second as he scribbles all over your essays, vandalizing them with random characters from the games he spends all night playing. “Stop that-!” You cry out, watching your clean work melt into a behemoth of a mess before you.

“Stop? Your notebook’s boring - I’m just adding more life to it!”

The look on his face symbolizes the devil incarnate himself. Jeongguk was devilishly handsome, except for the fact that he was the bane of your existence.

Handsome?

God forbid he ever finds out you think of him like that.

“No,” You let out an exasperated huff, “You’re just earning me a bad reputation! Can’t you just fuck off?” Frankly, you’re just wasting precious time and energy, because no matter how many times you urge him to piss off, he wouldn’t budge. He’d keep on being a complete brat.

Nothing was on your side when it came to Jeongguk - not even the gods themselves.

Truly, you deem yourself as the most patient person to ever walk this earth. You say this out of the experience. But when Jeongguk steps into the picture? You want to give him a good kick to the balls because he was simply so aggravating.

Your friends know well of this yet they look at the situation in another light. A light which leaves you effectively deceived.

As you stomp towards your local buddies, you could hear the faint “Ah, here we go again,” leaving Seokjin’s lips as they all brace themselves for your routined outburst. It’d be surprising if you didn’t do this on the daily.

“I can’t believe him!” Your voice booms, agonized and worn out as you tumble onto an empty seat, letting yourself sink into the warmth of your arms. Attention attracts itself to you, but you couldn’t bother. Humiliation has nothing on the daily hardships you face - literally - every day.

“What did he do this time?” Jimin and Seokjin mutter in unison, watching you practically deflate in front of them. Honestly, what didn’t he do? Nowadays, whenever he even breaths your way, you deem it a huge inconvenience. Unfortunate.

How exactly is this unfortunate? You happened to be best friends with someone who’s very fond of your arch-nemesis, and that is Park Jimin. It’s either because he’s a libra or the heathen hypnotized him into blooming a friendship together. Countless times the beam of smiles tried his best to convince you that Jeon was an angel at heart.

You beg to differ.

With a distraught face, you look up at both of them. “He scribbled all over my essay - that little twerp is going to ruin me.” Words of truth. It’s not that deep - it isn’t. You offered to rewrite his notes, he was the one who decided to be all salty about the matter. Salty enough to make your life a living hell, that is.

“Wouldn’t you consider the fact that maybe his intentions aren’t to just be a bitch to you?” Jimin chirps in, wincing.

“You’re kidding. How many times do we have to go through this?”

“As many times as we need to,” Seokjin intervenes, letting out a fatigued sigh. To put it simply, he has way too many other things to be focused on right now besides your incessant whining. He loves you dearly, but having to listen to you ramble on and on about your rivalry with Jeon drains him to the last drop. “Haven’t you thought about clearing things with him? Perhaps it’s all a misunderstanding.”

“Over my dead body! He’s the one who started it, I already did my part of the job.”

If there was one word to describe you, it would be dense. This was on him, even if it bothered you to ends. Seokjin and Jimin knew this very well - they also knew that they were wasting their breaths with you, but it was worth a shot either way.

And so it was left at that.

As winter break approaches, you find yourself growing ecstatic as each day passes. Once you finally catch yourself a break, you’d be able to scatter away from the plight that is Jeon Jeongguk. Likewise, the man himself. You’re pretty sure he finds your mere presence a disgrace by the way there’s always a scowl tugging at his lips, or perhaps the devilish tricks he pulls on you until you can no longer take it and scurry off.

Jimin, much to his pleasure, compelled you into signing up to help with the school dance alongside him. Eventually, you caved in, albeit protesting that you’d rather use your free time binging whatever show Netflix recommended you. No one can bypass Jimin’s charms and the way his lips turn into a pout as he pleads to you.

And, well, perhaps you did need to be more productive.

So in reality, your best bud was doing you a favour.

How hard could it be anyway? All you had to do was decorate and help plan the catering, maybe throw in a few song suggestions. If possible, even cop yourself a date - you’d hate to weigh down Seokjin and Jimin just because you were looking sulky in a corner with your only friend being a cup of cranberry punch.

“You’re not going to bail on me last second, are you?” The brunet queries, looking at you cautiously with his eyes twinkling. Despite his teasing and constant pulling to get you to do things with him, you know he’d never force you into something displeasing.

You give him a look. “Gosh, what do you take me for? I promised you, didn’t I? You just have to make sure you keep your side of the deal.” A grin blooms onto his features. Right - he promised you a meal at your favourite diner for accompanying him. That way, he knew you’d accept for sure.

The hall is crowded with students, bustling with chatter as they discuss their excitement for the dance. You have to admit, it was an event to look forward to. To catch your breath and enjoy a moment of peace in a place that you can call a second home. And to top it off, it’s with the people you see every day who, just like you, are there to study for a future.

Understandably, you have no idea who half of the student body was, but it still felt like family.

Jimin instantly finds himself one of the coordinators and advises them about your presence whilst you fumble behind him rather nervously. “What exactly do we have to do?” You mumble to him, taking a good look around. The place seems way too dull when it’s not enriched with DIY banners and colourful lights adorning every nook and cranny of the room.

“Our duty for today is decorating. The theme’s pretty sparkly this year.”

“Isn’t it always like that?”

A voice is quick to interrupt your conversation, making you practically dart around to see the source of it. And it’s no surprise when you come face to chest - curse his height - with the very being you’ve grown to dislike over the months. He was here, in the hall, helping.

Just when you thought you’d be able to hide from Jeongguk, he proves you wrong. Like a predator hunting its prey.

“Gguk!” Jimin exclaims mirthfully, wrapping an arm around your sworn enemy. You really can’t help but worry for him. Ah, it is what it is. “I didn’t think you’d be joining this year.”

“You know I’d never miss an opportunity to help around. But,” he pauses, averting his gaze to you with a quirk of an eyebrow. “It’s a surprise you brought Y/N along.”

“I’m sorry?” You gasp rather too dramatically, earning the attention of those around you. Jimin bursts into laughter, shaking his head at your antics. This is betrayal at its finest - laughing at your misery, you might as well drop him this very second.

“Apology accepted.”

That fuels you even more. Your blood boils under the layers of your skin. God, couldn’t he get any less arrogant? “I can’t stand you,” you breathe out, scoffing. “Is there a rule that I can’t give a helping hand by any chance?”

Jimin watches all of this unfurl. If anything’s worth pure entertainment, it was the two of you. “Not if you run around with a stick up your ass,” Jeongguk replies with a measly roll of the eyes, “This won’t be any fun with you here.”

“Alright you two, cut it out.”

In all honesty, you doubt how fun that'll be. With him around, no one knows about the perils he could throw at you to prove his disdain. Your life could be in danger as you speak. What if you were walking around and he stuck his foot out for you?

Jeongguk clicks his tongue. “See you around Park - you should hop over to the sound room later. We could use your help.”

And that’s another encounter with Jeon Jeongguk for the day, much to your annoyance. You could see the way the brunet turns to look at you with a soft smile on his face, a small, reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Lighten up, it won’t be that bad.”

“My ass.”

“Y/N!”

---

Truthfully speaking, it isn’t all that bad. You’ve grown to interact more with everyone else - surprisingly. Not only that, but you were given the blissful pleasure to befriend what seems to be God’s favourite specimen, Kim Taehyung.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was God himself.

Amid all these students, there’s Taehyung who you secretly claim as the light of your life. You’d be surprised if someone didn’t know him or of his presence in the hall, he truly stuck out brighter than all the sparkling decor being hung around the walls and on stage.

“Y/N-! Catch!”

If you weren’t quick enough, you would’ve been hit with a small pack of glitters straight to the head. Even worse, they could’ve opened and left you in a glittery mess. Laughter bubbles out of the man’s lips - music to your ears. You adore the way his locks bounce with each move he makes.

“That was pretty hazardous - I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to hand them over to you more politely next time.”

“I caught them, didn’t I?” You smile, letting the item dangle lightly from the tips of your fingers. Taehyung continues to beam, his pearly whites put all on show. You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the man before you. Oh, and not to mention his voice. That golden bundle of harmony.

“Surprisingly,” Jeongguk butts in, snickering. And here it is again - like a comedic show, ready to make you the laughing stock. “Would’ve been hilarious to see you covered in pink glitters.”

“Ggukkie!”

Ggukie? If it wasn’t for the respect you hold for other people’s comfortableness, you would’ve bent over and hurled. It would’ve been a cute nickname if it wasn’t directed at the fiend. But it’s fine, you suppose - Taehyung has an endearing way of lacing nicknames.

He’s quick to ruffle the latter’s hair, making shy giggles tumble out of Jeongguk’s mouth. You can only stand and watch, squinting rather annoyingly at him. He was such a joy kill.

“I need your help with the soundbar,” Jeongguk explains nicely. His tone is gentle and he uses his hands to explain whatever was wrong, much unlike how he interacts with you. It’s in these moments you wonder why he treats you so differently when it was a small inconvenience you’d pulled on him months ago.

“No can do,” the elder tells him, scratching the back of his head. “I have to help Namjoon with the tickets. But I’m sure Y/N can help - didn’t you say you were good with tech?”

Oh.

In another life, in the same position you are in now, you would’ve declined and scurried off to avoid him. But, if you think about it, this could be the perfect opportunity to flaunt your knowledge and skill. If he gets to do it, then so can you.

It’s only fair, no?

You quirk an eyebrow towards the duo. This was your time to shine. “I’m sure he won’t need my help,” you taunt, “Jeonggukie can do everything, can’t he?”

Silence. He’s like a deer caught in headlights, with the way his eyes widen and his mouth becomes agape. You managed to pull a stunt on him, showing him victory and deeming yourself superior. Kim gives you a peculiar look before offering you a smile. “You’re right - Gguk’s incredibly talented.”

That wasn’t really what you were hoping for. You admit it hurt your pride a little, but there’s no way you were going to put it out on show. Jeongguk can kiss your ass.

“Uh, whatever. Follow me, I can’t wrap my head around what’s wrong with it.”

You were quite ready to start calling him petty, but as you slowly take in his response, you’re left perplexed.

Perhaps you’re taking it too far - this is only for a school dance after all. Although you can’t help but stand and stare at him for actually accepting your offer to help. “Hello? Are you going to just stand there? We have other things to do - hurry up.” Curse you Jeon Jeongguk.

“See you later Y/N!”

The chance of copping yourself a hot date to the dance, slowly streaming out of your grasp.

As you bid your farewell to Taehyung, you let yourself be whisked away by a rather grumpy Jeongguk, who stomps his approach to the sound room. It’s quiet - save for the weight of his rather chunky shoes - and if you may say so yourself, awkward. But nevermind that, you were assigned something to fix.

He takes you up a flight of stairs - much to your dismay, you weren’t fond of the exercise - and into a tiny, cramped room just on the opposite of the school’s stage. You could see everyone clearly from here - ants scurrying around to get their work done.

Jeongguk shuffles around behind you - you could feel his build bumping into yours here and there. “Okay, do you know what to do?”

“Huh?”

“I said, do you know what to do? Or were you just talking out of your ass?”

God, you can’t stand him. “Can you stop being such a bitch for once? Yes, just give me a few minutes and it’ll be ready.” A huff follows your line of conversation as you squat down to handle the component. He should be grateful you’re sacrificing your sanity to be with him right now. “What exactly is the issue here?”

There’s silence until your ears prick at the loud sigh that tumbles out of his lips. “Didn’t you hear what I told Tae? The sound keeps cutting.” You hum.

Your fingers lace around its wires, untangling the unattractive mess they’re in and inspecting whatever could be the problem. Unlike you, Jeon stands as far away as possible, offering you all the space you could need. His eyes watch you carefully, dancing onto every move you make. It’s peaceful, the only sound reverberating through the room being your breaths and the light clinks of the soundbar wires.

Your fingers start pulling each cable off one by one, setting them aside neatly and letting out a small sigh. Everything was in order, except for the crooked pins inside one of the cables that directly connects to the speaker. You turn to Jeongguk with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you plug these in? You bent the pins.”

He purses his lips, his hand flying up to scratch the back of his neck. “Guess I was in a hurry - can you fix them?” As he speaks softly, almost shyly, you swear you could see a hint of pink tinting his cheeks.

That’s cute.

“Hand me your credit card.”

“My what?”

“Your credit card - hand it over.” His face displayed pure horror. It’s not like you were going to run off with it - he wanted the soundbar fixed, didn’t he? You extend an arm out towards him, an eyebrow quirked at his hesitation.

“It’s fine,” an eye roll follows because he genuinely looks like he’s waiting for dinosaurs to resurrect. “I just need it to straighten the pins, yeah? Your card’s going to be back in your wallet before you know it.”

He’s looking at you with worry laced in his features until he’s stuffing his hands in those baggy pants of his and shuffling out his wallet. “You better give it back in one piece.”

What did he think you were - a heathen? Did he not know just how valuable credit cards were in today’s life? “Whatever,” you huff, fingers diligently wrapping around the piece and instantly starting to work your magic.

It takes you a few minutes of focus and caution, aligning the component back to its original shape. While you do so, Jeongguk observes cautiously. His eyes fawn over the way you stick your tongue out in concentration or the way you just engulf yourself in your own little world. Jeongguk thinks your hair colour compliments your skin.

You look pretty when you’re not throwing profanities at him.

It’s the daily entertainment he looks forward to every day. Not a moment goes by that Jeongguk doesn’t think about how to make you boil with fury in a matter of five minutes. Yet despite the delight of it all, he figures it’s about time he gives you a break.

Maybe a five-minute break - he misses the constant scowl etched onto your features whenever you catch sight of him.

"All done!" You beam, lips stretched wide as your hands perform the last trick. "Put a song on, bunny boy, see if it works."

Jeongguk stutters at the nickname. You, however, didn't realize it rolled down your tongue until it was too late.

He brushes it off and starts to scrolls through what seemed to be a multitude of playlists on his phone. You eagerly await the melody to boom quietly through the soundbar. However, he seems to be hesitant on what to choose and frankly, he was taking too long.

So you swipe his phone out of his grasp, leaving him clutching his credit card, putting his songs on shuffle. You give yourself the pleasure of coursing through his music taste - it wasn’t that bad. Diverse, to put it simply.

Kind of like yours.

“You listen to them too?” There’s an enthusiastic tone to your voice, eyes gleaming over the discography of a group you’ve grown to admire ever so much. They were the good fortune in your life - what was keeping you moving forward. Listening to their music gave you a sense of bliss.

Jeongguk peeks over your shoulder, his interest piqued as to why you’re so delighted over his music taste. “Hm?” He mumbles to himself, “You follow them?”

“Are you kidding,” you express matter-of-factly, “I don’t just listen to them! They are my heart and soul Jeon. I love them more than taco Tuesday.”

The last comment sends him hollering, catching you off-guard. You’ve never, in your time spent around him, heard him laugh so heartily before. If you must admit, it sounds melodious. Like the singing of birds in the early morning.

“Taco Tuesday - god, you’re something.”

Heat trickles up your neck to the ends of your ears, leaving you red in front of him.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” A snicker follows. “Well, it’s open for interpretation. Did you go to their last showcase?” You notice the way interest bubbles in the tone of his voice and the way his eyes glimmer with a newfound shine that you can’t quite decipher.

“Hell yeah, I did! It has to be one of their best one yet - they’re hitting it big this time!”

The room reverberates with joyous laughter, drowning out the low drum of the music playing in the background. It feels rather cumbersome, how one minute you’re at each other’s throats and the other your boisterous laughter mixes.

Maybe Jeongguk isn’t that bad.

However, it’s when the laughter dies down that the tension slowly rises. It isn’t thick - nor is it thin, but it’s there. It weighs on your shoulders and watches the inelegance crawl towards you. Jeongguk clears his throat and you find him rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, uh, I think you should be getting back down there.”

You shake your head heartily, your feet shuffling underneath you. “Could’ve sent a thank you my way you know.” The way it tumbles down your tongue makes it seem like you’re joking. His eyes wander onto you and there’s coral painting his skin again - he looks like a child. With the way his eyes go wide and he starts pursing his lips whenever he finds himself in situations as such.

“Right - yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

That’s where another part of your constant feud ends.

Would you even call that interaction a feud? Technically, you weren’t exactly at each other’s throats this time, despite all you did was fix up the soundbar. It was rather nice. You think a smile on Jeongguk’s handsome features is ravishing - god forbid he ever finds out of the compliment.

It’s childish. It’s like throwing buckets of water off a sinking ship - useless. For someone attending college, both of you lack the maturity for it.

Okay, maybe he’s not the only one taking things out of proportion - you can be quite the bitch sometimes.

New revelation - for the last term, you’ll just drop it. Just like that. Let it unravel however it wishes.

Yet, it’s quite hilarious how all this took you was a heartfelt moment with the guy.

---

It takes you patience, teamwork and hours upon hours of choosing through various types of decorations and goods for the dance. Now that everything is ready - and just in time, if you may add - the event was to be held early in the evening.

Whilst everyone was simply ecstatic for the event, you were pissing yourself. Why exactly is a mystery - your nerves were slowly bursting one by one and you were growing anxious. You had no reason to.

Seokjin is currently rambling about how elegant his suit was going to look. It makes you admire how he considers a minimal event as something grand - another quality you can’t help but adore about him. Seokjin always makes himself stand out in the best ways.

Jimin sits by his side pecking at the loose threads of his jumper, eyeing someone which, according to his line of sight, was about a few meters behind you. At his silence, both you and Seokjin quirk an eyebrow.

“Goodness!” Seokjin squawks, sending a light slap to the youth’s shoulder. “All you have to do is ask him to go with you, you raging homosexual!”

Ah.

Jimin has had the fattest crush on one of the philosophy guys. He describes him to have the sexiest brain to ever walk the grounds of earth. Frankly, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Kim Namjoon walked the college halls with people behind him practically foaming at the mouth. He, however, didn’t exactly take notice of this.

The youth’s gawking at the elder amongst you, giving him that specific look at me, now look at him look. “No way. I’m too fond of the pride harboured within me to let it be crushed by someone so unbelievably hot.”

“Funny, considering you’re ranked one of the best looking to roam this goddamned building,” you comment, rolling your eyes. “Jimin, I bet you the moment you walk into his vision he will be swooning. He can’t say no to you.”

“You think so?”

“With a juicy ass like yours, no, he wouldn’t be able to resist.”

You feel something shuffle beside you, which you brush off as Seokjin’s feet - it’s not the first time he’d stretch his legs out beside you, just to annoy you. It’s until Jimin’s doubling over with laughter at the sound of someone’s voice that you finally pay mind to.

Jeongguk chuckles. “Really? I didn’t take you for an ass person, Y/N.” That’s exactly why your ever so lovely best friend - since high school, may you add - was tearing up. Seokjin tries his best to keep his laughter at bay, knowing well you’ll give them hell after this.

You’re abashed wholly as red inherits your skin from neck to ears. Jeongguk’s very existence was made to shame you - catch you at the most vulnerable moments and have you burden them for as long as you breathe.

“Where did you come from?”

“From the cafeteria. I came to ask you something.”

After this presumptuous interaction, you are confident that he may have hit his head this morning. This was more than peculiar, and frankly, it left you perplexed as ever. “Okay, go ahead, shoot.” Interest piques and you notice the way he hesitates before shooting a quick look towards Jimin who grins ever so evilly.

“Be my date for tonight.”

That bastard.

“What?”

“Hello? Can’t you hear? I told you to be my date for tonight.” He says it so straight-forwardly it almost has you toppling over your seat. His face harbours a look that you can’t quite fathom and it irks you. What was he plotting?

“There’s definitely a catch to this.” Seokjin and Jimin observe quietly, the elder sending the youth a few questionable glares here and there. It seems as if Jimin was the one behind this all - which, if he was, wouldn’t leave you surprised at all.

What a libra.

Jeongguk shakes his head - you grow soft at the way his locks bob as he does so. “I promise there’s no catch - I just want a date for the dance. That’s all.” It leaves you with a frown hanging on your lips. All he needed was someone to hang by his side.

“And from all the chicks around you ask me?”

There’s silence then - he doesn’t respond, only purses his lips and fiddles with his fingers. He avoids eye contact. You sigh. “Sure - yeah, sure, whatever. I’ll be your date, Jeon.”

“Score!”

You watch as both Jimin and your new dance date high five before you. The pits of your stomach continue to bubble with anxiety and soon enough you might even think this might be a bet.

Jeongguk went from provoking you to asking you to be his date.

Seokjin gives you a rather sceptical look, tapping at your hand lightly. “What was that supposed to be?” He asks you, gaze wandering about the two snickering to themselves. You peek at Jeongguk and he seems to be pretty content. You still can’t comprehend just what’s going on in his head, but you conclude that it’s no good.

“I don’t know, but I hope he doesn’t pull any shit and ruin a good night.”

---

To say you’re beyond nervous is an understanding.

The both of you agreed to meet at the school gates, and as you step out of the cab you conveniently managed to catch, the situation dawns on you greatly. What happened to being sworn enemies after an unintentional spill?

If you were to look back at the time you’ve spent planning the occasion, you’d say something changed. He doesn’t make your blood boil as much - he presents you that charming smile more often. Not to mention how soft and kind it’d become in contrast to the many devilish grins and disdainful scowls he’d sent your way before.

You can’t tell if it’s progress or not.

The building looks rather magical - students loiter around the main entrance with big grins decorating their faces. Their well-prepared looks shimmer under the dim lights radiating from inside the school.

“Y/N!” Your body instantly freezes at the sound of his voice. You’ve grown used to it over time, but in this specific condition, it shakes you to the core. “Over here!”

Feet trepidatiously coursing over to him, you let your fingers fiddle with your fit. You look presentable to say the least - perhaps not as extravagant as the other people who’ve probably spent half their paycheck on something to wear. Decent, as you would put it.

“You better not pull anything on me, Jeon,”

“Why would I?”

Well, why would he? Makes you debate. The behemoth of worries and what-ifs subsides slowly but surely because Jeongguk sounds so sincere. Not to mention the way he’s looking at you right now - it makes you shrink, but in a positive way. He has the faintest of smiles plastered on his lips.

You don’t know how to feel whatsoever.

“Listen,” you tell him softly, looking at the ground as if it was the most interesting piece of art. “If… If this is all a joke or a dumb bet with Jimin, cut it out. You’re acting weird.” As a result, you can almost detect the frown drowning his smile as you speak.

Jeongguk reaches out to hold your hands. If he hadn’t done that, you’re pretty sure you would’ve ruined your somewhat prized possession. His touch is warm - it sends electricity coursing through your veins and leaves you stunned. Your head’s quick to shoot up at him.

“I promise that it’s nothing like that. Can’t I take the girl I’ve had this like, huge crush on to a dance?”

If pigs could fly they’d be more believable than this very moment. What was he saying? Is he even sure he’s talking to the right person?

“You’re kidding?” You say almost breathlessly. You’re pretty sure your eyes are wider than what’s physically possible, and your mouth’s hanging open. Nothing could convince you just how true this was. “Shut up - crush? You’ve been nagging me since I fucked your notes up. How could you possibly have a crush on someone you clearly dislike?”

His facial expression becomes even more unfathomable. Jeongguk shakes his head gently, “I was just teasing! It’s a habit - you’re fun to mess with, much less be around. Was I that bad?”

Oh?

This was like entering a whole new universe. Was that a good way to even describe the whirlwind of emotions washing over you right now? Never had you even considered that, because why would Jeon Jeongguk, quite possibly one of the most alluring men to ever walk this earth, find entertainment in you? Much less harbour a liking.

You punch his shoulder jokingly.

“God - you bastard! For how long has this been going on?”

There’s a sheepish grin on his face - he’s rubbing the nape of his neck again, it’s endearing. “You remember that time you fixed the soundbar? Yeah, by that time, I was a goner - I think?” His words are all fumbling together. He was growing shy by the way red bloomed onto his cheeks. “Then… Then we kind of vibed during the whole planning thing. Jimin was kind of sceptical, so he uh, he confronted me about it.”

Ah, so Jimin was part of all this.

“Uh, I hoped this would’ve gone in a more, uh, romantic way? Maybe while we were dancing. I heard you put some pretty sappy songs in there.”

Seeing this new side of him hit you like that time Seokjin threw your school bag and earned you a nasty bruise on your nose. It’s fresh, better than the usual cocky talk he gives you.

Perhaps by time, it’ll grow on you.

“When I say you’re really something, I never had in mind this side of you.” You sigh gently, letting a miniature of a smile wash over your lips. This is nice. It’s calming. “Now that I have clarification, you’re not so bad yourself, Jeon.”

“And if you let me, I can continue to prove that on the dance floor.”

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hacelee-mp100 · 3 years

Text

What I Am Missing

Reigen’s POV on an old high school friend

The dim lighting blends in with the chattering and the music. Compared to the long bland day I waited out in my office, the sensations from this place are an overload. In a good way, I tell myself as I take a seat at the bar table. It’s good stimulation for someone who’s spent most of the day in an empty office, thoughts bouncing off the hollow walls. I’m in the hustle and bustle again. Now I get to let the outer voices bounce me around.

The bartender catches sight of me and slides over to take my order. A lemon sour cocktail, I tell him. Please. The clink of ice hints at the refreshing sensation of the liquid soon to pass down my throat. I already know what it would feel like. This is more of a routine than a reward. Routines are better than holding a notion of rewards. You get disappointed if the reward doesn’t compensate for what you were building up to. It’s better if you never get started on the notion of a reward in the first place. The cold seeps into my palm as I wrap my hand around the glass. Integrate these mini rewards like these into a routine, like fast food. They’re good, functional. Just a short break from the work you’ll have to get back to one way or the other. Before I know it, I’ve already drowned half the glass. I set the glass back down, the clink barely audible over the numbing chatter. My sigh doesn’t push the burble out of my eardrums.

The bartender must’ve been watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Them kids bothering you?” he asks. “I’d invite you over to a private sector if we had one built into the architecture.”

I glance over my shoulder to see that it’s mostly college students in the bar. “Midterm season, huh?”

The bartender lets out a good-natured laugh. “Looks like you’re in the know. We get more of them during the exam season than after. They need an outlet for all the stress.”

“Don’t we all.”

“We get loads.” The bartender leans forward on the counter and nods toward the rowdy groups of people scattered throughout the bar. “From college kids to middle-aged and older. Buddies living through life, chewing through things together. Sometimes I imagine they’re all the same people. Living out different stages of life.”

“Mmm,” I entertain the thought. “The only stage you’re missing is the underage. You only get to see the weaning.”

“Right, the weaning from protected childhood. I suppose you need a place to chew over and take in the world that slowly loses flavor compared to the childhood glories.”

“Like a good ol’ chewing gum. All the flavor’s bled out, but you keep on chewing.”

“Just keep chewing, just keep chewing, chewing, chewing...“ I recognize Dory's ‘just keep swimming’ tone in the bartender’s voice. He laughs it off and turns his eyes on me. “I see the loners, too. Us analyzers, commentators. There’s the living part. The sharing. And the commenting.”

He’s rushing it. It’s strange to feel the velocity of the conversation when it’s me who normally speeds ahead. I didn’t want to think of him today. There’s laughter among the college students.

“There’s something bothering you. I can tell. Rough day, eh?” The bartender’s voice seems way too far away. I internally shake myself to clear the fog.

“Close. More like loud thoughts.” I look up in my best attempt to imitate the bartender’s good-natured smirk, tapping on my head. “Nothing a good wash of alcohol won’t fix.”

“Ahh. No need to spell it out. Wash it away, wash it good.”

With a reassuring nod that might as well be a clap on the shoulder, the bartender saunters off.

This guy’s the epitome of a bartender, ready to talk about life but knowing when to leave people alone. If this is his regular shift, I’d mark this place as a great hop over spot for whenever I want to feel the bustling. But the crowd. It’s too loud. The chatter’s really getting to me, and I quickly down the rest of my drink.

—————

It wasn’t just the chatter, I realize as I climb the stairs to my apartment. It was the college students, the scene that landed too close to what I’ve been trying to bury. I thought it would be my reality. I didn’t know it would be an image I’d observe from afar. Not that it was tangible at the time. It was simply what I perceived as the given. It’s not part of my life now.

My quivering vision morphs my shoes into sneakers bracing against the metallic ridges of my high school stairs. My feet create the same footsteps as when we climbed up the stairs for our music class.

There’s something hurling up in me. I briefly consider pausing to retch, but decide it’s not worth it. It’s disorienting when I don’t have my sensations aligned and categorized. I need to place my finger on the cause of this nausea. I know what this is. I am already thinking in response to what he would’ve said. I’m preparing to defend myself in a match that will never take place.

“Would you stop it,” he had told me once. He said it like a statement of fact, as if it had the same gravity as the list of evidence I was bringing up at the time to support my claim. I don’t remember the specifics of the topic we were on. I just remember the abruptness that didn’t fit in with the context.

“Mind clarifying the ‘it’?”

“Okay.” He paused. “How do you imagine us seven years down the line?”

Though I was thinking it wasn’t at all relevant, I decided to play along. “At a bar somewhere, I guess, tired from work and washing down our stress with a couple of beers.”

“What will we be talking about.”

“Uh… shitty bosses. Lamenting on our career choices. Commenting on passerby’s.”

“Right. We’ll be talking of others. Talking about other people.”

He let the conversation trail off that time. He was a strange one. He went by his own agenda. It could have been that sense of gravity that drew me to him over and over again, even though he wasn’t in my friend circle at school. We hung out from time to time after the extracurricular activities. I bailed on volleyball practice more often than not because it lasted longer than his book club meetings. When we walked home together, he would tug roughly on his bicycle handles and jolt the hardcover book in his front basket.

I tried to establish a routine, and for a while it seemed like he accepted it. Save for these strange episodes when he would try to tell me something about myself that he couldn’t even name. In moments like these, I would get the peculiar sense of cold metallic ridges digging into my ribs, as if I were the book in his basket.

When the conversation cropped up again, he picked it back up like we skipped over the weeks in between.

“People can sense it, you know. When you put up a front.”

“Yeah, I agree it’s pretty easy to spot,” I said, not missing a beat. I couldn't afford to miss any beats. The cold was seeping into my sides again, and I had to warm them back up. “Body language is bound to give people away, whether it be eye or hand movements. From their gaze to the angle of their arms to the tremor in their hands, it’s really not that hard to detect.”

He didn't fall in pace with my rambling. “But it wasn’t because of the tremor that I caught you.”

“Seems like you’re pretty good at reading contexts, then. Do you get that from all the books you read?”

“They help.” He tugged on the handlebars to get his bike over a bump in the ground. “You don’t need to fake that you’re okay. Not in front of me, at least.” He said it nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t even embarrassed about bringing up to the surface what I would clearly prefer to leave unaddressed.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.” That was the truth. I had no understanding of the cold.

“I’m not trying to put you on the spot, jeez.”

We ran into a group of mutual friends at the crossroad, and the awkward spot in the conversation dissipated.

I think I maniacally avoided that train of conversation. Physically avoiding him would only prove its existence, so I tried to crowd our moments with my comments. It was easier in larger groups of people, because there were only so many ways you could act once the group flow was set. I was excellent at tugging the strings in that setting, a power that became null when I was with him alone.

He seemed to have picked up my routine of walking home after club hours, because he started waiting for my volleyball practice to finish. It was during one of those walks after club hours that he finally laid out what was bothering him. There was that telling pause before he talked, the pause that always came before he would make an insight-laden comment in a group setting. He talked slow., like he was just figuring this out.

“It’s hard to get through to you, Reigen. It’s hard to… I always have to spell things out for you to get it, and that sometimes goes against the grain of the whole thing, you know?”

He wasn’t always good with words, and I could fill in the gaps most of the time. I was at a loss for this one, though.

“Dude, you gotta give me more to work with.”

Was it because I didn’t like talking about myself enough? Was it because I liked to categorize other people? I thought I was doing well reading the undercurrents. I knew how to please people, but it was so much tougher with him. Maybe I could cater to his tastes more if I could figure out the part that went over my head. It was body language, most likely, since that’s the only other form of communication aside from words. In the back of my mind, I was thinking: would you put the damn thing in words so I don’t have to keep shooting in the dark?

“I’m trying here,” he complained, as if he could read my thoughts. He furrowed his eyebrows, and his eyes traveled to the book in his basket. I was surprised when he actually picked it up.

“I’ve been reading this on and off. It’s a narrative book on relationships and bonds, sort of.” He held the book out to me. “I want you to read this.”

“Sounds great.” I took the book, feeling the dents it got from getting bounced around in the metal basket.

The continued furrow in his eyebrows told me that he was still on the task of clarifying his words, forcing me to keep my mouth shut. I silently hoped that we’d run into a group of mutual friends like the last time this happened. But it was too late in the day. He had waited for my volleyball practice to end to walk home with me, and there was usually no one around at this time. Our shadows stretched long in the orange light.

Instead of the group of people, I got what I was almost dreading.

“You lack internal narration,” he said, almost proud of having found the words. Finally. “And I want you to stop trying to make up for it by stealing other people’s.”

—————

The book was actually a collection of short stories. Even though they weren’t long in length, the stories’ plot lines stretched out painfully. The characters were all Hamlet equivalents. I never enjoyed the play. I returned the book to him and he did not ask what I got out of it.

This was a full year before we graduated high school, way before we parted ways. That last year was good. We went skiing together with the mutual friend group. He brought me along on a trip with his old friends, too, so it wasn’t like that incident was the beginning of the end.

Except that memory stands out to me as the stamping of the expiration date for my time with him.

At the time I couldn’t understand what he meant by narration. What in the world is an internal narration. I was all but narration when it came to describing situations. The nonstop stream of words was my jam. Besides, it was a harsh thing to say, to anyone. If I cut all context and presented the situation to an outsider, I’m pretty sure the common response would be: that’s a shitty friend.

No, but I liked the guy. He was cool. He would sometimes throw me off because he seemed to be completely oblivious to the social hierarchy in school. He’d casually mention the social pariahs in front of the popular crowd, completely disregarding the unspoken division. This made it hard for me to gauge where I stood with him.

It wasn’t out of malice that he said that to me. He was telling me something because he cared. Something most people wouldn’t have even noticed, or cared to bring up to the surface. I wonder if he knew that we wouldn’t keep in touch, the same way he perceived this unspoken part of me. What I am left with are the bare facts. It’s statistically hard to keep in touch with everyone. It makes sense that he is one of the many I lost touch with.

But I can’t find the narration that connects the dots between these facts.

The night air is sticky. I inhale deep from my cigarette and get a big gulp of asphalt, concrete, and smoke residue. I heave a deep sigh, but it doesn’t push the stickiness out of my lungs.

A part of me wants to dismiss this as an episode of sentiments. Or find a solution. Why mull over something if you can’t do anything about it? Why mull over if you can? Logic cuts off either path. The solution comes in actions because we live in the present.

Another, more sinister part of me notes that I am slipping further away from what I had wanted at the time by thinking this. He knew it. He saw it. I never talked about it but he knew what it was that I wanted. That’s why he was telling me I wasn’t there yet. It wasn’t to present a solution. He probably didn’t know it himself. He was noting my situation because it was visible to him, because he had access to my narration that I never spelled out to him.

My head hurts. Alcohol and smoking probably weren’t a good mix. I cut my entire train of thought short and snuff out the cigarette. There was a kid coming to my place these days. I don’t know how long it would last, but I should try and cut back on smoking just for the time being. Here’s to another beginning to something I have no idea how long it would last.

I will sleep to sink me in the depths, to speed me past to the other side of tomorrow, where busy actions would patch up this gaping emptiness.

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kumkaniudaku · 4 years

Text

Trading Places

It’s 4:15 pm, I’m at work bored and wanted to post. So here I am. Enjoy.

Put on something nice and be ready at 8. I’m taking you out.

Chadwick stood in the center of his trailer sporting a goofy smile as he read the text on his phone in his head.

Is this a request or a demand?

Did you see a question mark? I’ll be in your city in five hours. Don’t have me waiting.

Equal parts shocked and impressed by the tone of the message, he decided that no response was necessary. He’d been given instructions that he felt giddy to follow. Throughout the day he would take breaks between scenes and random conversations to read each message as if it was his first time seeing them before reading the name of the sender and smiling. Work had left little time for play, but he was excited to break the monotony of his two-month stay in Chicago.

Especially with her.

The restless energy coursing through his veins had him dressed an hour before his date arrived and constantly pushing the curtains aside to check for any movement outside of his rental. When the clock struck 8:00 with no sign of his date, he pulled out his phone to send a cheeky message.

Attractive but late. Gotta take off points for that.

Before he could place his phone back on the coffee table across from him, a soft buzz alerted him to a response.

Ha, try again. Come outside before we leave to drink wine without you.

The mention of a third person made Chadwick’s head cock back with a tinge of jealousy as he walked around the small living room to shut off electronics and move toward the door. He was expecting a night alone, not a group outing. Though he wouldn’t turn down whatever was in store, he wasn’t happy about sharing the object of his affection.

Step into the pleasantly cool night air, his slight frown spread into a grin when he saw her posted against a jet black SUV that matched her smooth but relaxed outfit choice.

“Took you long enough,” she hollered as she watched him cross the street with a sparkle in her eye and mirth in her voice. “I almost had the driver leave you behind.”

“Why? So you could enjoy the night with whoever else is in the car?”

When they were close enough to touch, Chadwick bent to join his lips with hers.

“Jealousy looks surprisingly good on you. Don’t worry, it’s just you me and the driver tonight. I’ll keep a third in mind for next time.”

“Where is new personality coming from?”

Declining to answer right away, Tasha opened the back passenger side door and held it open.

“We’re trading places tonight. Now get in. No more questions.”

------------

An entire night catered to him felt foreign. He hadn’t felt like the sole focus of anything not involving an on-screen performance in years. It wasn’t that he was complaining as thousands of thoughts rippled through his mind in the short ride to their destination, but he wasn’t sure how to react. Did he turn around and offer a coy smile when she opened the door for him or ordered a drink on the sidelines? How was he not supposed to go for his wallet when a monetary transaction was required? Was he being rude by not saying thank you after every gesture?

“You need anything else? I’m around if you want another.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I think we’re good for now. Keep the change as a tip.” CoCo flashed the sideline attendant her award-winning smile that produced an awestruck stare from the young man. When she turned to pass Chadwick the second beer in her hand, she lightly nudged his arm and laughed. “Loosen up! We’re at a Bulls playoff game! When is that gonna happen again?”

A small laugh preceded a sip from his plastic cup, “Good point. And thank you...for the drink.”

“If you say that again, I’m gonna have to take you home. I appreciate the thanks, but I also want you to enjoy the night. Your night.”

He nodded to show that he understood but kept his eyes on the side of her face when she turned to observe the game. She sat relaxed in a slight slouch, silently commanding attention in a way that would be intimidating to anyone lacking the light that she possessed. He wasn’t sure how she functioned with so much power on a daily basis, but he was happy to be positioned beside her.

Chugging the remainder of his beverage, Chadwick decided to literally roll his shoulder back, remove his jacket and loosed up to enjoy his surroundings. As the quarter rolled to the midway point, a buzzer sounded throughout the arena to signify a media timeout.

“It’s time for your Coca-Colaaaa KISS CAM!”

Fans not engaged in various conversations looked up at the arena’s jumbotron to watch the camera pan from couple to couple willing to display their affection for thousands of strangers. Some moments were sweet while others bordered on outrageous.

Enthralled in a conversation that was quickly becoming sexual in nature, Chadwick and Tasha quickly forgot that with elevated social stature came unwanted attention.

“Kiss Cam!” The first statement didn’t do much to get their attention. “Oh, c’mon! Kiss Cam!”

Honestly, the second time around went largely unnoticed until the cheering from the crowd around them began to grow. Chadwick was the first to look up and see their faces broadcasted around the 360 screens.

“Hey, look.” He extended his arm to direct CoCo’s attention to the screen. Initially, her eyes flickered with worry before softening into something he couldn’t decipher until she turned to face him.

“Let’s do it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah. Kiss me!”

“Co.”

“Fuck it, I’ll kiss you.”

Before he could react, her small hands cupped his face to bring him into a kiss. The entire arena became charged with loud cheers and whistles as they engaged in the largest public display of affection either of them would have imagined. Just as the kiss ventured into waters to graphic for the viewing audience, Chadwick pulled away with a broad smile gracing her face. She watched Tasha’s eyes remained closed for a second longer before they fluttered open to focus on his features.

“Loose enough for you, baby? Or should we have another drink?”

CoCo took the comment in stride and smiled. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her hand to signal to the sideline attendant. They’d be needing that second drink sooner than she planned.

-------------

A few beers and a win from the home team created the kind of buzz and tension that a couple at the tail end of a date needed to wrap up the night with more than a peck at the front door.

Hand in hand, Tasha and Chadwick walked through the sparsely populated park, enjoying the sounds of the passing city and each other’s company. They didn’t take themselves too seriously as they traded jokes about trivial matters and snuck kisses under the moonlight. The longer they walked, the louder a once distant saxophone became.

“Yo, it’s jazz in the park,” Chadwick exclaimed, breaking contact with CoCo to point in the music’s direction.

“You wanna go this late?”

“Can we? For a little bit?”

She could see the excitement in his body language as he impatiently shifted his weight on his legs. Smiling, she held out her hand to grab, giving him full permission to tug her along to the small crowd at the edge of the park.

A few couples gathered under a covered area, bodies pressed together to move in sync to a jazz rendition of Adorn. Chadwick didn’t miss a beat as he spun Tasha in a circle and pulled her close by her waist.

The vocalist sang a slower version of the song, making the moment feel suspended in time. This was the kind of spontaneity that characterized their time as kids ripping and running through the New York streets. A similar sense of carefree being settled over them as they spun in a slow circle in time with the music.

“When I was 18, I met this girl with a big mouth and chicken legs. She had a million opinions about everything under the sun which I loved because she challenged me to be sure of my beliefs. So, for some crazy reason, we decided to be friends.” He felt the vibration of Tasha’s chuckle against his chest and matched it with a laugh of his own. “Now, here she is, drunk, dancing with me in the park and sporting the wedding ring I imagined giving her all those years ago.”

After lifting her head from his chest, Tasha tilted back to look Chadwick in his eyes. They stared at each other with goofy smiles while they replayed random moments in their timeline that led to the present circumstances.

“For the record, I’m not drunk,” Tasha spoke to reignite the conversation.

“Well, I am. Take that for what it is.”

Tasha’s sweet smile quickly changed to match her bedroom eyes as she trailed her finger down her husband’s chest. “Maybe we should get you back home.”

----------

The quaint Chicago brownstone buzzed with muffled voices and music. Clothes lay scattered across the floor in a trail from the entrance to the bedroom leading to a spot where the air was thickest. Basking in the afterglow of adult activities, the couple lay on their backs staring up at the ceiling fan responsible for cooling their overheated bodies.

“Is this what I do to you on date night’s,” Chadwick asked, turning his head against the pillow to look over at his wife.

She smiled and nodded before breaking out in a small chuckle. “It’s great, huh? Being catered to for the night?”

“Hell yeah. You got it made.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed before turning on her side to face him. “I’m gonna make sure you have it made more often. Starting with more of the last twenty minutes.”

Her lips left a trail of kisses from his shoulder to jawline until he suddenly used his body weight to press her softly into the mattress.

“You’ve done an amazing job being me tonight, but I’m ready to get back into my role. I got some things I need to show you.”

Both of their bodies became charged with excitement and visions of what was in store. They’d be trading places in a different sense for the rest of the night.

--------

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman fluff #chadwick boseman fan fiction

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griffinsandpeacocks · 4 years

Text

LoonyTwo Writing Challenge Week 3 Prompt 1: Curiouser and Curiouser...

Adam sighs hating the walk home after he had had to drop off the car at a shop. He’d at least been able to bus most of the way home. The day at the office had been hectic last minute updates as they scrambled to meet the dead line for the start of the new quarter. He spots a man with black hair holding a piece of paper on his street looking confusedly around. He’s smartly dressed and has a tan though he’s tall and has a trim build he seems to almost float about seeming to move with the barest motion. It’s kind of creepy and Adam gets a tingle like he did when that fae had cursed him all those years ago.

“Can I help you?” Adam asks not wanting to accidentally cross one of those fickle Assholes again. The man looks at him sharp grey eyes seeming both curious and board.

“I’m looking for a friend at 45 N. Charm Street. They’re throwing house warming party and I was invited but I’ve got not the faintest clue where they’re at. I’ve never visited this part of the city. I’m not familiar with the layout.” He says and Adan sighs, the new neighbor that moved in while Ben was leaving for Uni.

“That’s the house next to mine, just up the street.” Adam says gesturing along the man Thanks him and walks up the street with him eyes scanning the house numbers until they reached Adam’s he sees the 45 next door and smiles.

“Hey I was supposed to have a tag along and Adonius is the one who catered, as a thank you I could have you be my plus one.” He offers and Adam paused. He could feel that tingle and had since the man had shown up.

“Sure... I’ll drop off my work related stuff and be right back out.” He wants to meet the new neighbor anyway and he wasn’t about to turn down another fae... Even if he would normally turn strangers down he didn’t want to cross any more fae. He goes inside and drops off his work bag and walks out with his jacket back on and the man is waiting at the edge of the yard grinning as he sees his neighbor walk out onto the porch and grin at the stranger.

“Oiy, you coming in?” He asks and the man chuckles gesturing at Adam.

“Was waiting on my plus one, you’re neighbor helped me get here you suck at directions!” They banter and Adam walks up but his neighbor had been pulled off by some others before they could be properly introduced and he watched the man skip about like a social butterfly through the group that was scattered about and noticed the tingle was worse and felt uneasy. He must be surrounded by fae. He is nervous and chats when talked to trying to keep up but feeling terribly out of his depth with the talk. He knows so little about whats going on in the magical community he worried he’ll come across offensively.

“Oh! You’re affected by magic not naturally inclined are you?” A person asked and Adam goes pink as eyes turn to him and he coughs uncomfortably.

“I learned my lesson... I was an arrogant fool got cursed and eventually thanks to a lovely woman broke that curse. I met my amazing wife thanks to it so I can’t say I regret much given I can’t be more proud of my son. I do hate that the staff I grew up with got caught in that whole thing.” He sighs and the fae snicker and start chatting in whatever language and Adam gets some greek but that’s it. He thinks a smooth line of latin floats into the air at some point and he manages to slide to a darkish corner to breathe a moment.

“Hey hiding are we?” The man who invites him says sliding up Adam sighs and nods.

“I came mostly because I’d rather not upset anyone in your circles... But I’m out of practice for these kinds of events...” Adam admits and the man’s eyes widen.

“Oh! So the poor cursed bastard’s you! I thought you were a werewolf or something! Shoot!” He says and Adam shrugs.

“I’m used to getting dragged into these situations now.” Adam sighs though it’s a lie typically they caught on he was cursed not born with magical aptitude.

“Still this can’t be comfortable...” Thane who Adam had heard the name of only thanks to other says and Adam nods shrugging.

“I’ll give you this, the food and drinks are good.” Adam says and then something catches his attention. His fingers are tingling.

“Please say you didn’t take anything from someone...” Thane asks and Adam sighs.

“Dammit.” Adam groans his vision fading out and he hears a curse but it goes dark. When he comes to he sits up on a nice coach a man with blue hair that fades out white and it’s pulled back he chuckles grinning.

“I uh... Hope you don’t hate me for a guests terrible sense of humor...” He says and it’s his neighbor.

“I just want to go home and forget I live next to someone in fairy circles. I just want to avoid pissing them off.” Adam admits and the man laughs and stands helping Adam up he walks them through the house avoiding busy areas and he walks Adam out the back and to his front door.

“I’m home most of the time I’ll be near by if you need help as far as Fae go... Also I’d suggest resting the next few days as they say it was harmless fun but I have no idea what they gave you.” The man says and Adam nods feeling like he might pass out again he steps inside and waves locking his door before going to his coach and calling into work to say he’d need the next few days off as he’d gotten some mail for his late wife. It hurt to lie but it was the only non suspicious reason he could think of off the top of his mind.

“My life just got interesting... Great.” Adam sighs into his living room as he nods off.

#beast #prince adam #hades #decendants hades #adam x hades #hades x adam #beast x hades #hades x beast #descendants #disney descendants #beauty and the beast #live action #Fae are not to be trusted #roofies #Don't do that to people

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everlarkficexchange · 5 years

Text

Always You

Written by: @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 46: Broken-hearted Katniss goes to see a psychic, hoping to get one last message to her departed loved one (Goodbye? I’m sorry? Where’s the key to the safety deposit box?). Peeta is earning his college tuition using his charm and empathy to tell fortunes. What happens when they encounter each other?

Thank You for the prompt Anonymous

Thank You to @everlarkficexchange

Rating T Canon character death.

My name is Peeta Mellark, and I am a Psychic.

Well, at least I’m pretending to be for the sake of my Fine Arts Degree. Mother, being the peach that she is, cut me off when I decided to major in Art instead of Business. Dad stood by and let it all happen as usual. He didn’t even say goodbye the night I left the house for good.

It’s fine. I’ve been getting along great on my own. I’ve got scholarships and have managed to cobble together a few jobs that don’t interfere with my classes but still pay well enough to keep me afloat. I work at a catering company on weekends, an early morning bakery shift two times a week and this job, which happens to be the best paying of the three. Now graduation is so close I can taste it, just one more month and I’ll be done…free.

Earning money using my charm and empathy to tell fortunes as a psychic may be pushing it, but these people all seem happier and more at peace after a reading and that’s how I’m able to stomach the deception. I’ve done readings for widows looking for safe deposit box keys, desperate souls wanting one last goodbye with their loved ones and people that just want a moment to say I’m sorry.

Those are the worst.

Sometimes it’s hard to live with, but name another job that you can pull a hundred dollars an hour? Truth is, this job just fell into my lap….and I’m good at it.

I sigh and settle back into my chair and wait for my next appointment, who will be here any minute. Tidying up my table, I put away the tarot cards I used in the last reading and run a cloth over the crystal ball. It’s just for looks but my boss Haymitch swears it adds to the ambience and make us look more credible.

A soft tapping on the door alerts me to her presence and when I look up, I see a young woman about my age. She’s not very big, nor is she particularly pretty. She’s followed closely by a smaller, blonder version of herself.

They’ve lost someone.

It’s clear by the pain on their faces. I want to tell them to leave, that I can’t help them, that none of this is real…but something stops me. I stand and offer them a seat before starting with the scripted spiel.

“Welcome to Psychics of Panem. Are you ready for me to begin?” I ask, glancing between the raven-haired girl and her sister. The latter looks at me with a shrug but offers nothing helpful.

Silver eyes meet mine and I’m struck. A strange warmth begins to crawl through my chest and I realize I was wrong, so wrong. Her delicate features are shadowed and darkened by pain and those twin moons shimmer with tears. She is…. unexpected.

“I don’t know why I’m here.” She whispers. “I don’t believe in this stuff.”

“That’s ok…Miss?”

“Katniss.”

I look to her sister and she trills. “Prim.”

“Alright, why don’t we get started.”

I relax, and let images and thoughts fill my mind as I try to string together some words that might make whatever these girls are going through, a little easier to bear. But I keep seeing her…just her.

Katniss.

It’s strange. She’s everywhere. I wonder if the guilt is getting to me, but I power through and state what I already know.

“You’ve lost someone. Someone that you love very much.”

“Yes.” She says, and her sister echoes her answer.

I close my eyes again but there’s nothing. Just a picture of Katniss in my head. My eyes startle open when Prim starts to speak.

“I had to convince her to come here, you know, it took me over a year.” Prim glances at Katniss’ hunched form. “She doesn’t think this stuff is real but she’s still spending the grocery money on you.”

Prim must see the horror flash across my face because she’s instantly contrite. “She hasn’t been eating much anyway.” Katniss drops her face into her hands and I notice her shaking slightly.

“I can’t do this. I can’t talk about her.” Katniss mumbles. She pushes back and springs up so quickly, the chair crashes to the ground. My eyes follow the violent swish of her dark braid as she dashes out the door. I realize I’m standing poised to follow, and I look to her sister…who is also upright.

It takes at least ten seconds before I understand what I’m seeing.

Prim did not move her chair, nor did she step away from the table. She just stood, the wood seemingly bisecting her legs from her torso. Looking at her face, I’m caught by her slight smirk before I fling myself away.

Catching a foot on my box of tricks, I land flat on my face. A little yelp escapes before I start army crawling for my life, knocking aside scattered runes and tarot cards. A raspy chuckle trails me as I end up wedged in the corner of the room, drawing knees up close and ducking my face down, blocking everything out with my arms.

I can feel her move closer and the bubbling terror threatening to come out as an embarrassingly high-pitched scream.

“Peeta?” Prim asks softly, clearly afraid of pushing me into heart attack territory. “I thought…I thought you knew. I’m sorry for laughing.”

“You’re a ghost?” I croak, finally peeling my eyes open and locking them on the girl currently sitting crisscross applesauce a few feet from me. She’s just a girl, just a normal girl, she’s right there, sitting and talking.

“Did you think all the people who came to you were still alive?”

Pictures flash through my head. I realize all the people that have come through the door speak only to me, never to each other. Always using me to relay information. Families, husband and wives….and now sisters.

How could I not have known?

I’m dizzy, my head spinning with a myriad of emotions. “But they…you…”

“I guess it’s easy to see only what you want to see.” She says calmly. “But Peeta, you have a gift. You speak, and it brings peace to their souls, so the dead can rest.” Prim offers her hands and I cautiously reach out and guide mine right through them.

“It’s real, Peeta.”

“What happened to you?” I croak, my throat feels raw.

“It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Katniss is alone, and she’s not supposed to be. She won’t survive on her own.”

“Why come to me?”

She thinks for a moment, looking through the air like it holds the answer to everything.

“How did you feel when you looked at her?”

“Not much at first.” I admit. “But then I saw her eyes.” Leaning back, I conjure her face again. “I felt warm…like she’s radiant as the sun.”

Prim smiles wide. “Yes! You’ve met before…but it wasn’t time yet. And then you were late to class and missed her.”

I instantly remember that day. The only time I was ever late to class and my fumbling entrance was covered by a dark-haired girl handing over a withdraw slip and picking up her paper.

I was too late.

“If you had seen her walk in, you would’ve asked if she was okay. Asked her if she wanted to talk over hot chocolate. You would’ve skipped that class, and you would’ve been there for her through the hardest period of her life.”

There’s a burning in my chest and I feel a wave of despondence take me under. “My mother called that morning.”

“I know. What she said isn’t true, Peeta. You’re worth so much, don’t let her take this away from you.”

All I’ve ever wanted was to be truly valued by someone. To be needed by them, loved by them. Someone I could love in return, without the ever-present fear of being rejected.

Could I have that with Katniss?

“Is it too late Prim?”

“No.” She stares, moving her gaze across a vast expanse I can’t see. “Time works differently here. For me, everything is happening at once, and at the centre of it all I can see you and Katniss. You are going to make my sister happy for the next sixty years. It was always going to be you, Peeta.”

“Katniss can’t move on as long as I am still bound to her. And she holds me in this place, both finite, and unmoveable. But there is so much more for me to see, infinite plains to explore.” She sighs softly. “I don’t belong here anymore, but she won’t let me go.”

“And I can help?” Suddenly, it’s what I want. To help Prim, to save Katniss. Every cell screaming out for me to find her.

“You can, and you will. But just so you know, Katniss is kind of…prickly. You’ll need my assistance.” She rubs her hands together like she can’t wait to get started.

I can’t help but smile at this girl that is gone too soon. It’s too fast, I know, but I believe everything she has said. A veil has lifted and my whole world is coming into focus.

“How will I find her?”

“It won’t be too hard…. she’s standing right outside. Katniss couldn’t really leave, not without the chance to call you a charlatan and yell at you for taking her money.” Prim grins.

“People still say charlatan?” I ask doubtfully.

“Katniss might, she’s an old soul. You’d better use that golden voice of yours to deliver my awesome message, so she’ll forgive you.”

Somehow, I’m already at the door. Prim hangs back, casually leaning against the doorframe like she isn’t a teenage apparition. With a nod to the left, she points me in the right direction.

I look down the street and there she is…Katniss. Leaning on a rock wall, her face buried in her hands. She looks small and sad and I want nothing more than to hold her but as I approach, gunmetal grey eyes flash with fury when they meet mine.

I’m in trouble.

“Are you done stomping around you- you fraud!” Katniss barks.

A vision flashes through my mind. A tough, spritely five-year-old with two braids instead of one, sharp grey eyes and a red backpack that looked almost as big as she was. She walked right up and pushed Thom Baxter for making fun of me. After wiping my tears and runny nose with the back of a fist, I smiled at her and she smiled back. My chubby five-year-old heart burst with feelings for the tiny girl. A day later, I was pulled from class and moved to the private school across town.

It was too soon.

Shaking the memory away, I move just a little closer. Warned that this would not be easy but I’m undeterred. I glance at Prim and she’s watching us rapt, like we’re her favourite daytime soap opera. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“I want my money back!” Katniss states with the awesome might of a hissing kitten and I swing my attention back to her. She’s shaking and looks like she’d love nothing more than to tear me apart. “You charla-”

“You can have it!” I rush out, interrupting what I know was going to be a scathing attack on my character.

“What?” Her form deflates, seeming to collapse in on herself.

“I’m not going to keep your money, but I still have a message for you.”

She stays silent, untrusting and defiant even with the tear tracks on her face.

“It’s from Prim.”

Her voice is an indignant screech. “How do you know about my sister? Have you been cyber stalking me?”

“No…I…no!” I defend myself frantically.

“So, you’re saying you can read my mind then?” She scoffs.

“Not exactly.” I take a deep breath in the hope that she will follow suit. “Though I suppose whatever is going on with me is similar.”

“Get to the point.”

“I know about your sister because she told me. I can see Prim.” Pointing over my shoulder towards the seemingly empty doorway. “She’s standing right over there.”

“Is this funny to you? Do you enjoy being cruel?”

“Get in there Peeta!” Prim cheers and I spin around.

“Give me something useful then!” I shout in return.

“Can’t! I’m simultaneously watching your children be born.” A laugh, “You fainted, fell right over like a rock!”

My eyes grow wide and I realize too late that I must look certifiable to Katniss, who is now staring at me like I have two heads.

“You’re crazy.” She states a little fearfully.

“I am not!” I defend.

There’s a chuckle behind me. “Quit laughing Prim, you’re not helping.” Throwing the words carelessly over my shoulder.

“She’s- She’s laughing?” Katniss stutters.

“Uh…yeah. She’s kinda cheering me on in a very unhelpful way.” I side-eye Prim and she smirks, giving me a thumbs up.

Katniss just looks at my suspiciously. “She had a very strange sense of humour. What does her laugh sound like? Teenage giggles? Pealing Bells?”

“Um…it’s more like a chuckle. She sorta sounds like an old man when she laughs.”

“Hey!” Prim shouts, offended.

Katniss’s face crumples and tears start to flow as she chokes on a laugh. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard it. Such a weird sound to come from teenage girl.”

Drawn back into this moment, Prim looks subdued and steps closer. “I think she might listen to you now.”

She stands almost directly in front of Katniss, focused on her older sister, hope radiating from her being.

“Prim’s close to me, isn’t she?” At my nod she takes a breath. “I’ve felt her around since she left. She pushed me to find you. I would’ve never had an idea as hairbrained as this. I mean, come on, a psychic? This mess has Primrose Everdeen written all over it.”

Panic wells in her eyes. “I’m not ready to let her go.”

“That’s okay, Katniss.” I remind her as gently as I can.

“What’s the message?”

I meet Prim’s serene expression and repeat after her.

“Fall in love, eat cheese buns and be happy.”

Katniss scowls at Prim’s relayed message and all I can do is grin.

“And what are you smiling about?” She asks, wiping the tears from her face.

The grin on my face is quickly replaced with something a bit more sombre, and I clear my throat.

“You’ve got this Peeta!” Prim says encouragingly, as she tries to muffle her laughter.

“I…um…well, it just so happens I make the best cheese buns in town.”

Epilogue

It didn’t happen overnight. Taking almost half a year for us to grow together.

It started with cheese buns and hot chocolate during my morning break at the bakery. Many late-night talks where I learned so much about Katniss and her life. And, finally feeling safe enough, I began to share my own past as well. Favourite foods, favourite colours, gave way to more serious discussions with Prim hovering at the edge of our periphery.

Then Katniss surprised me at my graduation.

I wasn’t expecting anyone to come, and the thought filled me with a sadness so profound I wondered if this was it…if I was always destined to feel like I was not good enough. But when I saw her in the crowd, those grey eyes caught mine and hope flared to life. I let my eyes fall to the sunset orange dress that hugged her slight curves before returning to her face, just in time to see her smile.

And that was it… I was a goner.

Everything changed after that. Things felt more solid…more real. Katniss started inviting me to her place for dinner and eventually, inviting me to stay after. On those nights, Prim was conspicuously absent, but it wouldn’t have mattered, our kisses and touches were chaste to say the least. Over time, our relationship grew into something so much more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

Then on one, seemingly normal day, I heard Katniss begin to sing. It was soft at first but so lovely, it drew me in like a moth to a flame. She was in the kitchen, chopping and preparing vegetables with Prim looking on and I felt something tense and snap, a glimmering current flowing through the room.

Prim startled but kept her eyes on Katniss. “I’ve missed her singing.” She turned her head towards me with a glowing smile.

“I just can’t believe it… she let me go.” Her excitement is clear as she crows, swaying in her untethered state. “All it took was a few months with you and your delicious buns!”

I feel my cheeks warm and smile back as I watch the girl hovering to ‘hug’ her sister. I am strangely comforted by her humour, it’s something that will not be lost, something I can remember about Prim.

“You guys are gonna do great! Tell Katniss I love her!”

And with one final gesture, a three-fingered-salute… Prim was gone.

Katniss turned, giving me a sad smile before walking into my open arms. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

“Yes, love.” And I pull her closer.

I had expected more, I guess. Bright lights, tearful goodbyes, and knowing Prim, maybe books flying off the shelves or something dramatic like that.

But I suppose the lack of fanfare suited the occasion. The tearful goodbyes had long ago been spoken. It was strange and ordinary, the gentle movement of someone special leaving the room.

We could only move forward. I kissed the top of her head and promised Katniss that we would have each other, that someday life would be good again.

And it was.

I love her like crazy, and for some reason, Katniss loves me right back. As fond as I am of her scowl, I like her smiles even more, so I stopped asking why and just decided to believe her…to believe in us.

We married on a warm spring day, in a meadow covered with wildflowers.

After, I tripped over a gopher hole and Katniss tumbled down with me. She rolled into my side and kissed me as we laughed, hands still entwined. Our simple wedding clothes streaked with green grass and flower petals, our slightly drunk officiant, Haymitch, looking on with mild disdain.

It was a good day.

When we were settled into our lives, I finally made use of my hard-won degree as Katniss worked to finish hers. And in the quiet times, she encouraged me to use my gift to help others, neither of us knowing where we might be had Prim not been able to deliver the message that brought us together.

Working at Psychics of Panem can be difficult, it can also be rewarding and Haymitch is grateful for the company a few days a month.

Years later, our daughter arrives. Katniss’s final push brought her wrinkled and squalling into the world. Either the sound of her scream or the baby’s wail proved to be too much, and Prim was right, I dropped like a stone. Ending that day with a beautiful baby in my arms, a tired wife at my side and an ice pack attached to my head. It was slightly easier when our son made his appearance, the fears that had plagued us the first time around had eased, leaving only room for joy.

Prim is never far away. Cheerful primroses, lovingly planted by Katniss, line the window boxes of our home and the picture I painted featuring a blonde girl with a quirky smirk hangs proudly alongside the portraits of our children, our family.

What a crazy, wonderful, unexpected life…

My name is Peeta Mellark, and I’m a Psychic.

#sunsetsrmydreams #prompt 46 #late submission #springtime edition 2018 #submission

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faean · 5 years

Text

Endeavor x G. Neutral Reader x Hawks

Requested by: Anonymous

Rating: T+; Language and Sexual References/Innuendos

Word Length: 2072

Title: Villains... Or you two?

“Of course, sir, I’ll head straight over there.” I hang up, putting my phone in my pocket as I leave the coffee shop.

So, the flame head finally had an epiphany, I think to myself. These past few weeks have been, strenuous, to say the least. Working with heroes guaranteed an interesting time, and I welcomed getting to know some of them personally.

Not this time.

I was paired with two of the top three heroes here in Musutafu, and I still cannot decide who got on my nerves more. Was it Endeavor and his blinding ambition? Or perhaps Hawks with his cringe-inducing arrogance? To be fair, I could look past such… qualities, if not for one particular reason that has made me regret becoming a Private Investigator.

The two heroes flirted with me, unabashedly, ever since they requested to work with me on a cold case that was re-opened after 23 years. Quite obviously, this has led to numerous issues.

One- We are on a case and must be professional. Which they regularly ‘forget’.

Two- I have a decade on Hawks, and the gap was even larger between Endeavor and me.

Three- They were willing to share me.

Four- I am quirkless, and I did not become the best PI in the world just to be catered by these two.

Five- That’s about it, but I wanted to hit a nice number to end on. So…

Getting in my car, I make no effort to speed to the meeting location where Endeavor would share his findings with myself, Hawks, and the small police squad I was given charge of by the Chief of Police; who happens to be a good friend.

Now, it may appear that I am indifferent about this case, but truth be told, I had solved it days ago. However, my ‘partners’ were reluctant to let me investigate on my own and had convinced the chief to ‘give us time to consolidate the evidence and prepare for a raid.’

Apparently, the threat was ‘too great a risk’ for Japan’s best PI to take on alone; despite having crossed paths with the League of Villains multiple times during other investigations, arresting several of its members and still completing the task I was hired to do. All while being quirkless, those love-struck fools.

Nevertheless, I listened to my superiors, ready to save their asses when the time inevitably comes for a confrontation… that they use for showboating.

Arriving at a warehouse that was a secret meeting place for law enforcement, I stroll through the metal door, greeting a few colleagues as I made my way to the front of the group. With a stern look, I urge Endeavor to share his ‘findings’, ignoring Hawks’ flirting. Neither hero was perturbed by my blatant disregard for their advances, and Hawks was content with looking up into my eyes (being several inches taller than normal had its advantages; this was not one of them) as Endeavor spoke in his usual proud tone.

“After much consideration and deliberation, we have deduced the location of the criminal organization that has been feeding vital intel to the League of Villains. After this brief, we will suit up and take action. Now…”

Having lost interest in his droning, and not wanting to listen to Hawks comments, I let my mind wander on the multiple high-profile villains that were associated with this case. Over two decades ago, these few villains had banded together and wreaked havoc in northern Europe. After being discovered, they scattered, establishing small safehouses for information gathering, always in touch.

I had been working on the case for nearly a year since learning of it, traveling everywhere, calling in favors. I had soon discovered that many of the safehouses had been sabotaged by an anonymous source, which I traced back to my home city in Japan; where the same villains had gathered once more to join forces with the League.

They were, indeed, not be underestimated, having sold out several allies for personal benefit. Even after 23 years, there was little doubt that age would be a factor in the coming battle; after all, if they could handle an entire nation’s efforts at stopping them, they could certainly hold their own with a small task force. If that task force didn’t consist of specially trained officers, two pro heroes, and the best damn PI in the world.

“You all know your roles, we leave in 15.”

Endeavor had finished detailing the mission, and I took the opportunity to head to my car to suit up, having acquired numerous ‘resources’ over the years; many of which were standard issue, but specially fitted and adapted to me alone. It was for the best, as my fighting style sort of required me to stay adaptable, which helped when facing down those with quirks.

My quiet time didn’t last, unfortunately, as it dawned on me that I was to ride with Endeavor and Hawks… Silently cursing myself for not having my motorbike, as that would mean the two would have to share the sidecar, which would be a hilarious sight-gag, I got into the driver seat and awaited their arrival.

With a few minutes to spare, I put on a playlist I made to help me relax, while simultaneously pumping me up for a fight. Admittedly, a lot of it was from an animated show I adore; you know, ‘It’s also a gun!’

While listening to the music, my mind began to wander, and I hesitantly entertained the idea of possibly allowing a single date with the two heroes. If we weren’t trying to save the city, and they at least tried to stay professional, then maybe after all was said and done, I’d go out with them. But, no. Worse was the fact that both were incredibly handsome, and Endeavor was a role-model for me when I was making a name for myself. And I may have a thing for younger guys…

A heavy sigh escaped my lips when the heroes entered my car, signaling it was time for the raid.

“I’m impressed, it only took all seven of you to get me tied to this chair and hang it from the ceiling.” I say smugly.

I was, obviously, tied to a chair dangling from the ceiling, the seven villains in a semicircle around me while my partners and squad were in the front room, fighting the countless lackeys they hired over the years. Thankfully, I got away from that pointless scuffle and was able to corner the villains we had been searching for. Naturally, they thought they had the upper-hand.

Oh, were they wrong.

Best part? The idiots started monologing. They took turns revealing all they had done, like they fucking rehearsed it. I was loving every second of it, considering they were holding my faux ear piece, which functioned as a recorder. They also removed my utility belt, claiming a toy gun and plastic knives. What they didn’t take was my bulletproof vest that was fitted to my body, so it looked natural; nearly a dozen real knives hidden on my person, including the one currently slicing away at my restraints; several shock-absorbing braces on my arms and legs that were reminiscent of an African hero’s panther suit; and a pair of faux glasses that I was wearing with thermal, night, infrared, and UV vision.

Being kind enough to wait until the end of the monologue, I stayed in the chair, reclining with my legs crossed while snacking on a bagel I had tucked away, a knife twirling in my free hand. When they finally stopped, a string of threats was thrown towards me before one realized my bonds were broken.

Having spent the 15 minutes they monologued mentally reviewing the info I gathered on them, creating a feasible plan to execute that would incapacitate the three villainesses and the three villains. Then, I was going to interrogate the behemoth of a person that was in charge to find out what secrets they had given to the League.

The villainesses consisted of one who could electrically charge their muscles for extra strength and speed, one who could bend light to create barriers and turn invisible, and another who could sap the heat from objects to effectively freeze them. The villains, on the other hand, had one who could exhale hurricane force winds, one who resembled a scorpion with a tail and pincers, and another who could increase gravity in a small area. As for the behemoth, they could block out all pain, and had a one time use of a mutated quirk that allowed to double the pain experienced and force it onto someone else.

Swinging from the chair and breaking the chain holding it, I spun it around as I descended, crashing it into the leader so I could focus on the other six. Hitting the ground rolling, my braces already storing energy, I blocked several charged punches from a villainess before judo flipping her into the tempest breather with the help of the braces, causing him to blow back the gravity shifter and knock him out while he, himself, got electrocuted. The villainess was knocked out from the force of the impact.

Three down, three to go. Then, the main boss … I may play too many videogames in my spare time. Ah, well. I was having fun, but it got exponentially more exciting when I was charged by the heat sapper and scorpion man; or so they attempted to fool me with. My special glasses allowed me to see the light bender who was shadowing the heat sapper (I probably should’ve learned their names).

All I had to due was time their movements, so they struck each other, which proved a challenge to me. After all, I needed the scorpion to strike and poison the heat sapper who would, in turn, flail and steal the heat of the light bender, freezing them in place.

Or, I could go a route that relied on actual skill, and not arbitrary luck (although, there was a heroine back in the states who could manipulate luck; I think she was part of some sort of force with an ‘X’ in it?).

Dodging the tail thrust of the scorpion, I grabbed his tail and pulled him into an overclocked punch, knocking him out. Then, ducking under the grasp of the sapper, I grapple her, spin around, and suplex her into the light bender, using up the stored energy in my arm braces (and possibly breaking someone’s bone(s)).

Finally, I moved on to the big one, seeing as they were finally able to pick themselves up from the ground and face me. I had to be careful with this one, seeing how they didn’t feel pain. But, as a favorite red-headed character from a show I like once said…

‘I don’t need him to feel pain; I just need him to GO DOWN!’

They charged me in a fit of rage, swinging an arm at me. I leapt up, allowing my leg braces to absorb the impact as I was launched into a wall. Once again using my braces, I timed my velocity to kick off the wall with maximum force, shooting towards final villain, and with a simple twist and drop kick, they crashed through the building, skidding into the street.

Strutting out into the main room where my squad and the heroes were preparing to breach the door that now lay splintered, I drunk in the praise of my squad (after an accidental misfire at me, which didn’t faze either them or me since I still wore my vest); having seen me in action before, they had an inkling of what to expect. As for the two males currently gawking at me, unable to respond, I didn’t hesitate to make a remark while still on my adrenaline high.

“Well?” I ask, my voice laced with authority as my lips donned a smug grin. “The sooner you two finish up the job, the sooner you two can fire your ‘shots’ in me. Or am I too much for the two of you to handle?” I finish with a wink and coy smirk, leaving to my car.

The last thing I heard was the scrambling of feet and an argument on who would top me first before I shout over my shoulder, “Who said I was letting either of you top?”

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki enji #endeavor #hawks #gender neutral reader #bnha endeavor #bnha hawks #bnha enji #enjoy you heathens

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suzie-guru · 5 years

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“The Bitch In The Moon”

A short story based in my Thereafter Dark universe. I’m already planning on reworking it into Carlie’s introduction chapter...

The sky was still cold black when Carlie Willow jerked out of the preciously few hours of restless sleep that she could manage during this time of the month.

Her heart thumped aggressively in her chest as she trained her eyes upwards, feeling the uncomfortable stiffness of sleep-grit stuck to her lids and lashes. The ceiling was made of a dark rough wood, and she realized, with acute discomfort, that she was laying on that same material, bare ass and all. Jesus, if she got splinters in her ass…where the fuck was she? This wasn’t any place she had woken up before.

The soft cluck cluck cluck hit her before the stench did, making her gag and sit up to dry heave. As her arms shook in their support of her shivering body, she coughed up thick salvia that clung to her raw lips in gooey ropes as she spat. She felt the burn of acid in her gullet and prayed that she could make it outside before she tossed whatever she had snagged the night before onto the dirt.

She belched dryly before lifting her gaze to the beady eyes of the hens that surveyed her as she lay on the floor of their coop, pale and sore and scratched. Little puffs of downy feathers drifted across the straw strewn boards, brushing against her bare skin with a ticklish softness. Carlie tried to count them before laying down once more, her head thick and heavy and her vision spinning nauseously. She closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly, the grain of the wood biting into her tender forehead.

Apparently, last night had been much rougher then she had thought it would be. A chicken coop. Huh. Well, first time for everything.

When she finally felt brave enough to attempt standing, she made her way past the chickens as they clucked their disproval in a growing thrum.

“Sorry if I got one of your friends last night, ladies,” Carlie said dryly, hobbling along on stiff legs, her skin itchy from grime, still hunched over from the pain in her abdomen. One particularly feisty mama hen pecked at her ankle as she passed, and Carlie kicked out, snarling. The hens squawked and scattered away, their distress over this strange creature strong.

Lucky for you that I can’t even stomach the thought of eating anything right now, Carlie thought with a sour snort, her eyes still burning. All it takes is one little snap, and then I could have one of your lovely warm bodies to chew on, feathers for garnish.

She winced as her stomach grumbled, then hobbled as quickly as she could across the yard to her little cottage, thankful that only livestock would be up at this hour. She could care less about her nudity, but it would be difficult to explain to an innocent early morning jogger or some kid waiting for the school bus. Especially with the angry red scratches up and down her limbs, her hair a tangled thatch, and being outside in the freezing air of dawn.

Could say that I was part of an orgy, she thought dryly as she picked her way through the icy clumps of grass – her soles were as tough as leather, but she didn’t need any additional discomforts to her sorry state. That’s typical teenager behavior, right? Orgies and vandalism?

Never mind that sex was off the table for as long as she could help it, and that taking part in acts of random vandalism would only invite attention she did not want. She couldn’t afford to be careless. Especially when she had just got settled.

She finally made it to the backdoor, and with a groan, knelt down and scratched around for the key. Her shoulder knocked against the door, which gave slightly.

Carlie’s head shot up, her eyes wide and alarmed, the panic jolting through her erasing any lingering aches. Did I not lock it last night? Fuck.

She rose, her eyes narrowed in fear, and tensed her body in anticipation before she threw open the door violently. She registered the bang as it echoed in the low light of the cottages living room, and she looked around with wary eyes. Everything seemed to be fine...

She sniffed the air to be sure, and then let out a growl, both out of impatience at her uneasiness and as a warning for anyone fool enough to be hiding in the shadows. She crossed over the threshold and into the sanctity the familiar darkness offered her, raising her chin defiantly. Even if there is someone in here, screw you. I need a shower.

She limped down the hallway, her eyes still searching for any sudden movements or shadows that shouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t really be a problem if she had to take on an intruder. She could still fight, but when all she really wanted to concentrate on was on losing herself to the steady thrum of hot water, letting it pour off her head and back and erase the stiffness in her joints...

She pushed her worries away, and soon Carlie stood under the water a few minutes later, shampooing her hair, her skin bright pink with the heat of it while the steam rolled up towards the piney ceiling and smudged the glass of the windows, making the dim early morning rays of the sun blurry.

She watched with lazy eyed satisfaction as mud and dried blood sluiced away from her and swirled down the drain. Practically purring from the comfort, she luxuriously stretched under the spray, feeling her tendons and muscles become rejuvenated. All that was left was a nice long nap before she went out for groceries, and then she would be ready for another glorious run…

She ran long fingers through her sodden hair, and then reached for the bottle of conditioner that stood next to her on the shelf. She normally didn’t use it, but she felt like luxuriating today. She purposefully squeezed out more then she should, and then rubbed it into her scalp, closing her eyes at the lovely sensation. God, she loved when she had time to pamper herself, though what Carlie thought was pampering was what the majority of people saw as basic necessities hygiene.

As her fingers worked away at her scalp, bits and pieces of images from last night came back to her…racing the wind and the shadows along the snaking line of the river, chasing after young rabbits fool enough to venture out while she was hunting, howling with joy and mockery at the stars stuck in the sky while she ran free. Her fur had blended into the night as she flew over the gorges, the ditches, jumping and rebounding off rocky sides. She had run through the black and silver forest, her eyes and heart and lungs feeling the tug of the moon each time her paws had struck the ground.

She tilted her head towards the spray and opened her moth, gargling the water that pooled there, feeling the track of it across her cheeks like tears. Her howl had been a song that night, not a wail of misery.

As much as she loved the fierce joy of pack-running, sometimes she had to be on her own. The night seemed more open when bloodlust was not making her vision tunnel, and she hated to even think of the chance of that lust transforming into any other kind of desire. She was still too young in the eyes of the pack to mate, thank fuck. From a human standpoint, she was at the stage when sexual explorations were primed and waiting for her, ready for her to learn.

But she simply didn’t want to learn, not yet anyway. She simply wasn’t human, either.

She shut off the spray and stepped out of the stall, the steam parting around her like water around a rock. She took deep breaths, letting the moisture curl into her belly. She hated the bold, fruity scents of bathing products – they smelled too artificial to her nose, and aside from deodorant, she normally did without perfume or other cosmetics. But Sophia had been able to find a line whose products had a gentle powdery smell that comforted Carlie. It smelled homey, a highly ironic fact given the life she led. She had been uprooted and moved to new settings ever since she was seven, but hey! At least her shampoo smelled like home. She snorted, then shook her hair like a dog.

After toweling herself off, Carlie slipped into some clean panties and padded over to her bedroom, damp hair brushing her back. The curtains were drawn but the sheer cotton still let enough light in to make her room glow cozily, the warm mahogany floors smooth under her scrubbed feet. The pale yellows and warm blues intermingled and made her feel even sleepier, and she yawned hugely before heading over to the only dresser in the room. She normally didn’t bother with nightclothes after showering, but she had been woken up too many times to the sound of people moving around the kitchen or the living room or outside her door, and having time to get decent was a foreign concept to most of the pack.

She tugged a grey tee-shirt over her head that she was pretty sure was Grant’s – she had given him permission to use her room to change for welding, and he had a habit of forgetting certain shirts he knew she liked. This one had been washed so many times the cotton was like angel down on her skin. It slid over her head, and she inhaled deep, the rich, woodsy smell of her pack-pal making her grin. She would have to talk to him about spoiling her like this, the fucking dork.

She turned her attention to the floor, spotting a pair of yoga pants. She quickly snatched them up, tugging them over her legs before they stopped just as she was pulling them over her thighs. Confused, she looked at the label, then growled in supreme irritation. Sophia’s.

Carlie sighed and kicked off the pants, and wandered over to the dresser once more for sweatpants. She couldn’t blame her cousin for being willowy and leggy and a much smaller size than Carlie, especially when Sophie had openly longed for Carlie’s muscles. And she had told Soph that her room was open to change in. But she could blame the average fashion designer for not creating clothes that catered to her body type. She glanced at herself in the mirror attached to the dresser, trying to study the reflected image without vanity.

The long, lean muscles of her legs and arms were her favorite feature, both limbs ballads to her love of running. The puppy fat of her youth still clung to her stomach, giving her a softness she wasn’t sure she liked. Her entire frame was etched with faded pink lines of old and healing scars – she only wore tank tops around the rest of the pack. Her flannel shirts hid everything well enough, even when the classrooms of the all the schools she had gone to boiled in the summer. She’d rather swelter in misery then risk nosey questions that just might unearth more information than she was comfortable with sharing. It had happened once, it could happen again.

She turned her attention to her face and bit back a sigh. She still had a bruise lingering on her chin from when she had misjudged a distance and rammed into a hulking pine on one of her runs. It stood out like a stain of ink upon her pale skin, a smudge of gray and lilac standing out amongst the coppery freckles smattered across her cheeks and nose. Her hair was tawny, wild and long and wet, the blunt bangs as always making her eyes look like they were peering out from some shadowed place, the gray blue of them alternating between icy and warm.

Just like Mom’s.

She shook her head and yanked on her usual pair of sweatpants, the ones that Sophia kept on threatening to burn one day. Got to get some real sleep, I’m getting sappy again.

She slid underneath comfortably cool sheets, and then wriggled around, letting her form become increasingly wrapped up in the plush multitude of comforters she collected on her bed. She had always been a snuggler, and loved the nest-like feeling of the cocoon of warmth as she slept, like a rabbit in its den.

The sun had risen now, a warm golden orange now painting the surfaces that it could reach, but Carlie’s eyes were fuzzy with sleep. It was a Sunday, which had used to mean that the pack would stop by her place for breakfast. But since this was still relatively new territory for all of them, they had agreed to let everyone settle in before getting together. The slightest thing could draw attention to them if they weren’t careful and didn’t behave – a casual breakfast together would lead to wrestling matches and injuries that would have the nurses at the local hospital whispering. Anything could uproot them.

But Carlie did not think of this, only let her eyes get heavier and heavier as the warmth pulled her deeper and deeper into a welcoming darkness, where she didn’t have to think about starting at another new high school tomorrow, or the squabbles of the pack.

She buried herself deeper into the blankets and let out a soft growl of contentment. Last night had been a night to howl with joy. Now was the time to rest herself and simply dream of the moon on her back and chasing after rabbits and stars.

#suzie's original work #suzie's original characters #Carlie Willow #my wild wicked winsome wolf girl #I love this girl so much guys/gals/non-binary pals #now I just have to work on Gil's introductory chapter...

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uzumaki-rebellion · 6 years

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Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 15

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"Ain't see this side of me Fluent in the sheets Can you read in between me? I ain't a stranger to the foreplay So we can skip the wordplay

Leave the lights on Leave the, leave the lights on Leave 'em lights on…"

H.E.R. – "Lights On"

The Blue Rose was a nondescript tan industrial building set inside a cul de sac. The only signage outside were the numbers of the address lit in neon blue colors. N'Jobu sat in his car to gather himself. What did he really plan to do? Drag her outside and berate her for working in a place like that? Stand in front of a stripper pole and yell at her for shaming herself in public? The blood in his veins surged through his hands as he gripped his steering wheel. How did he not know she worked in a place like this? He had assumed it was an all-night diner.

He saw several boisterous men walking in, and when he saw the dark mahogany double doors open, he could hear the loud thump of bass music, and various catcalls and whistles. When the doors closed again, he heard nothing. He closed his eyes. She was a grown woman. This was just a job. She was just earning money to support herself—

The thought of her naked and writhing on a stage propelled him out of his car, his hands balled into agitated fists. He entered the building and found a young fair-skinned Black woman behind an elaborate register. She was wearing a baseball top that was entirely too small for her large bosomed frame and the shortest shorts that displayed all her assets. She was re-supplying paper to her credit card machine. When she glanced back up, she took a long hard look at his clothes and his face before releasing a seductive grin.

"Hello there," she said.

N'Jobu handed her a black credit card and she swiped it. A separate set of doors led to the main room, and when he walked through, the smell of desperate horny men assailed his nostrils. Flashing laser lights, deafening music, and monetary notes were thrown on three separate stages. The two stages on the side were small and flanked by a larger one with a shining silver pole that ran through the ceiling. N'Jobu posted himself up at one of the three bars in the establishment, his eyes watching the stage as three women pranced out into position and began a new set.

Big tits, big asses, and thick thighs were the preference of this space, and the multi-ethnic male audience was appreciative and generous with their cash. The women were good-looking, athletic and limber. Also, completely nude. Glancing around N'Jobu already noticed a tent city with some of the men having intimate lap dances. He already felt a tension in his neck. Bast forbid he should see his woman grinding on some undeserving cock. He needed a drink.

Ordering a scotch on the rocks, N'Jobu leaned in towards the shapely rainbow-haired bartender to pay for his drink. She took one look at N'Jobu, then his credit card, and saw dollar signs.

"You look like a man who needs his own V.I.P. space," Rainbow girl said.

"Is that right?"

She nodded her head towards a space behind him. He looked in the direction she wanted him to see.

"Up there are private sections. I can set you up with bottle service. Exclusive. Private server…very private."

He caught her drift. He didn't even bother to ask her how much, just waved at his card.

"Set me up, I'll run a tab," he said.

Her eyes traced the outline of his expensive designer shirt. She saw his watch and the tasteful white gold chain around his neck. Rainbow grabbed another woman walking behind her with a tray of empty shot glasses.

"Misty, take this customer to booth twenty and set him up."

Misty, a Black and Vietnamese beauty, scanned N'Jobu with her dark eyes and her face lit up. Rainbow handed N'Jobu his scotch and Misty took him by his hand and led him to the steps that propped him up above the rest of the patrons. A man dressed in a decent suit and worked security for the V.I.P. section bent down to hear Misty talk. The suit unlinked a blue velvet rope allowing N'Jobu to walk up to his private perch.

The set up was decent; some Moroccan style couches and two black velvet chairs that sat close to a glass railing to see the action below. N'Jobu stood looking down at the main stage, his eyes darting to and fro for any sign of Califia among the women giving lap dances in the audience. The Blue Rose was huge and a bit chaotic.

"I'll be your personal server Mr., …?"

He didn't give her his name, just walked over to her and looked down at her face.

"Just bring me a bottle of champagne. Top shelf."

"Would you like any food, we have an excellent—"

N'Jobu shook his head. His mind was speeding ahead to what he would say when he saw Califia, or even what he would do. He needed privacy.

"Just bring me the champagne, for now, Misty," he said, enunciating her name so that his accent had the desired effect. She was swooning.

"Be right back," she said, adding extra swerves to her walk going down the steps.

He went back to standing near the railing. The dancer on the stage was being switched out again, the voice of an MC introduced the next performer. N'Jobu held his breath until he saw a slender Latina with ginormous knockers shimmy her way onstage to a fast trap beat.

"Shit," N'Jobu whispered to himself.

Scanning the room, he saw female servers catering to male customers and a few scattered handfuls of women patrons. The main dancer on stage held the pole with her hands and shook her naked ass so hard he thought it would snap off and fall to the ground. Laser lights and theatrical smoke, reeking of the dry ice that created it, wafted throughout the space, and a certain server caught his eye from afar. It was the two braids in her hair. He watched the server hand out drinks, take a few orders and then move past the main stage towards a bar in the back that was out of his field of vision.

Califia.

He felt his body relax. She only presented food and drinks. She wasn't on the pole. A part of him, the lascivious part of himself was a bit disappointed. Did he really think he was going to stand there in an elevated private section and watch her gyrate while sliding up and down a pole with her legs open with an audience? Did he really want to see that?

Sitting in his car earlier he envisioned all kinds of scenarios, men running up to the stage and throwing money on her, dudebros making filthy monetary notes full of damp sweat rain down on her breasts and ass. Drunk guys trying to press their faces into her chest to be motorboated, their dirty hands rubbing their sad crotches and then rubbing some part of her.

Misty returned with a fancy bottle inside a bucket of ice, and a single champagne flute held out to him. She placed the bucket on a table and pulled open the cork that had been popped before she came up the stairs. She poured his glass to the top. He drank until the flute was half empty.

"Will you need anything else?" Misty licked her lips and ran her fingertips across her nipples. Her hustle was not subtle. She may just be a server, but she was willing to give N'Jobu whatever he desired. A lap dance or even more. Had this been weeks in the past, N'Jobu may just as well sat on one of the couches, spread his legs and let this beauty climb on him, but he had something more valuable downstairs. And he wanted her in his presence. Immediately.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet and lifted out a fifty-dollar bill.

"There's a server downstairs with two braids and freckles near the stage. Send her up here to me, please."

Misty's face didn't fail to hide her disappointment.

"The girls downstairs have their sections that they are assigned…"

"I want her. Now."

Misty took the fifty and shuffled downstairs.

N'Jobu went to lord over the crowd and watch for his woman. She was making her rounds with a large tray of drinks that she balanced in one hand while fending off overzealous hands with the other.

The high heels she wore made her legs look longer and even sexier, and her uniform, the same as all the women servers and bartenders in the spot, was a tighter baseball top and short shorts that allowed lesser men to see nearly all of her curvy behind. He watched her bend over near the stage to listen to a man, and even from that distance, he could tell the other men watching her were salivating at the view she displayed. How many of them in that moment were fantasizing about getting up behind her, holding her waist and thrusting forward into that round piece of heaven?

He saw Misty approach her. He waited.

###

Califia was making bank tonight. Her push up bra was stuffed with fives, tens and a few twenties. She was going to have to run to the staff room soon to place her collected tips into her backpack located inside her personal locker so she could make room for more. She guestimated that she already had around two-hundred dollars, and her shift was still early. She would be working until six in the morning.

Making her way towards a few tables close to the stage, Califia saw Misty, a club favorite, come bounding up to her.

"Li Li, there's a guy up in twenty who wants you to be the server."

Califia glanced at Misty's pouting lips.

"I'm cleaning up here. Get someone else," Califia said, writing down two separate orders for two different tables.

She purposely had her hip thrust out, trying to finesse hard-up men with eye candy. The men she was taking orders from were definitely into big legs, so she wanted to make sure they could see her extra cocoa-buttered thighs. The club DJ was playing a hard banger of a classic Big Freedia bounce re-mix, so Califia added a few subtle body rolls as she took drink and food orders much to the delight of the men and two women in her section.

Misty rolled her eyes at Califia, but she seemed a little happy with the response she received.

"I'll let him know," Misty said flouncing away.

Califia looked up towards V.I.P., but the distance, bright lights, and smoky atmosphere made it impossible to see the person above them. Clearly, they had the paper to be up there, but Califia just wanted to take orders and serve drinks. V.I.P. work got a little handsy and often illicit. God bless the working girls that went that route, but she was good for the evening.

Califia made sure to give special attention to the two women patrons in her section. She checked in with them often, making sure they had plenty of water and the free salted snacks on each table.

"Let me know if you need anything," was her refrain for them. She did it not because she wanted tips from them, but to make them comfortable in the den of snakes men could turn into in a spot like that. Califia could handle herself with disrespectful clientele, but she had witnessed too many times the sharp turn a night could take with drunk touchy-feely males who could quickly forget a woman sitting in the audience wasn't a worker for the club.

"Come give me a dance, Ma," a guy called to her when she swept past with her empty tray on her way back to the bar.

Califia smiled sweetly, blew him a kiss, but kept it moving.

###

When Misty sauntered back up the stairs, she had a mischievous smile on her face.

"She doesn't want to come up here. Like I told you, all of our ladies have sections they are assigned to. And right now, Li Li is very content where she is."

N'Jobu glanced back down towards the main floor. He saw a man reach out and slap Califia's ass while she was carrying a full tray of beer bottles. He swallowed hard and turned his eyes back towards Misty.

"I can take care of you," Misty said.

N'Jobu took slow deliberate strides over to Misty. He towered over her but brought his lips to her ear.

"Go back down there and tell her this, …inyanga."

"Inyanga?" Misty asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Tell her to come up here again, but if she refuses, get close to her and whisper in her ear, inyanga."

N'Jobu held up another fifty.

Misty stared at him.

"Inyanga?" she said again.

"Perfect," he said. He handed her the fifty and returned to the glass railing. His patience was waning. He didn't want to go down there and cause a scene, but if Califia didn't get her ass up there within the next ten minutes he was liable to go ballistic and bellow her name from the balcony.

###

"What?" Califia asked when Misty crowded her space again.

"That guy in twenty still wants you up there."

"Forget it," Califia said, tucking a wad of bills down into her bra.

Misty stepped closer to her, put her hands onto Califia's arms, and whispered in her ear.

"He told me if you refused to come up again, he wanted me to tell you this…inyanga."

"What? Speak louder, I can't hear you."

"He said if you refused to come to him that I was to tell you this word…inyanga."

Califia eased back from Misty and took a step forward towards the balcony. She still couldn't see the shadowy figure perched up there because of the bright lights and the smoke.

"I'll take your spot," Misty said pulling the empty serving tray from Califia's hand.

Already on autopilot, Califia's legs carried her to the rear of the club, but her eyes were focused up, and eventually, she was able to make out his form and features. She stopped below him. Standing there, eyes raised up to him, the cacophony of action around her became white noise.

Staring down at her, his hands caressing the balcony railing, N'Jobu looked like some ancient haughty Cesar watching a riotous colosseum of bawdy women and lecherous men. How long had he been up there, watching her work? She tried to temper her breathing, but his face in the red glow of the V.I.P. lights had her guessing what he was thinking and feeling. From where she stood, she could clearly see the arch in his eyebrow, the tension in his eyes, and the way his lips poked forward, he was giving her the same stare he had right before he dragged her out of his car and spanked her in the back seat of his BMW. He was giving off molten lava levels of heat. And it was directed at her. She felt her legs quake like she was sinking into quicksand. She waited there like a very bad girl deserving of punishment. The thought made her mouth water.

"N'Jobu," she whispered to herself. His name felt hot and heavy in her mouth, a solid restless thing that needed a release. The moment he saw her lips move with his name, he beckoned with one hand for her to come up.

###

He was drinking champagne when she reached him. Standing near the top of the stairs, Califia watched N'Jobu turn to look at her as he leaned against the balcony.

"Li Li," he said, a smirk dancing on his lips.

She held out her hands.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why are you so far away from me?"

She sauntered in, self-conscious of what she was wearing as his eyes swept across her work uniform.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"You forgot to take the pie I made for you from my car. I was heading home and thought I'd drop it off. Bakari gave me the name of where you were. So here I am."

She glanced around the V.I.P. room.

"So, where's the pie?"

"Come here."

Califia hesitated then took some tentative steps until she was four feet from him.

"You want a drink? It's their best," he said handing his glass to her. She took it, the only time she ever had the opportunity to taste the best bottle her job had to offer. The champagne went down extra bubbly and extra dry. It was quite excellent. She held the glass out for more and N'Jobu walked over to a table and pulled the bottle out of the ice. He replenished the glass and watched her drink her fill. She offered the rest to him and he finished it, placing the glass on the table.

"Does it upset you that I work here in a place like this?"

"A little. If we weren't together, I probably wouldn't care, but it does irk me a bit if there are people here who touch you or look at you. It is your body, but…"

"But what?"

He shrugged.

"No, I want to hear what you have to say. It's my body, but…?"

"All I see in front of me is mine. Just mine. I don't want these cretins touching my treasure. That's all. And you look so damn hot right now, girl."

She pivoted around nice and slow for him then sashayed close to him so that her chest touched his. She played with the collar of his shirt.

"I've been working here for two years. I know how to handle myself. You don't have to worry, and you don't have to check up on me."

"I wasn't checking up, I just wanted to make sure you had your pie. I'm just surprised that this isn't a restaurant."

"Did you think I was dancing on the pole?"

N'Jobu's eyes looked away from her and he pressed his lips together tight searching for an answer.

"You thought you would see me down there on stage doing the do, huh? Admit it!"

N'Jobu tried to play it off, but she pushed her hand into his chest to make him confess the truth.

"Are you disappointed that you didn't catch me in the act?" she asked staring into his face as he tried to avoid direct eye contact. He was embarrassed. She thought he was so adorable when he was embarrassed. He couldn't even look at her when he was in that state.

"Do you want me to go down there and climb on the stage to fulfill your fantasy, sir?" she joked with him, pretending to walk towards the stairs, "I could get Misty up here because God knows she loves to give lap dances."

N'Jobu walked over to her and pulled her hand into his.

"How about you give me a lap dance, Li Li?"

Califia held his gaze, and then she heard the intro beat to a neo-soul jam, heralding the coming of Califia's favorite performer, Medusa.

"Come watch Medusa with me first," she said, pulling N'Jobu back over to the railing, pushing the velvet chairs together.

A woman with long thick honey-brown braids and dark olive skin took the stage, leaping onto the pole by her legs and spinning, her hair spiraling out of control as gravity whipped it around her turns.

Califia watched N'Jobu watch Medusa do her thing as men in the audience began tossing money and catcalling their appreciation for the level of skill Medusa brought.

The woman climbed her way to the ceiling, flipped upside down, released her hands and just allowed herself to slide down all the way to the bottom without hitting the floor with just her thighs. N'Jobu's eyes squinted hard.

"Wow," he said.

"I know," Califia answered.

Medusa pranced around the stage, her movement accentuating and punctuating the lyrics to the song she danced to.

"Not that I would want it, but you would probably be badass down there," N'Jobu said.

"Nah, that's a whole different skill set, baby," Califia said, patting his thigh.

The music switched up and Medusa elevated her game, causing Califia to jump up and clap.

"Get it, Medusa!" Califia yelled.

Medusa grabbed her own braids and swung her body around, dropping into the splits where they could all admire her abundant ass cheeks as they jiggled in time to the beat.

"I see you all still do that twerking thing," N'Jobu said.

"You think she's hot?" Califia asked.

"Yes. She's beautiful," he said looking up at Califia. He stayed seated and watched her gyrate in her shorts, her decadent thighs having the same effect on him as the patrons that sat downstairs. She raised her arms above her head and shook them with the music, and she felt his intense focus on her face without looking at him. When she did allow herself to look at him again, his eyes drifted to her neck and the cleavage she displayed that had money spilling from it.

"Califia," he said, his voice going low, constrained by what she guessed was his need to touch her.

Califia kept winding her body, her butt flexing and bouncing a bit as she moved in her heels. He tapped her arm.

"Califia," he said again.

She turned to look at him and noticed a change in his demeanor. That heat was back in his eyes.

"I want you to give me a lap dance," he said, patting his thigh.

Her head tilted.

"Well sir, we have rules," she said, running her fingers over her two braids and straightening them on her shoulders.

"I will abide by all of them," he said.

She gave him a long contemplative look then became all business.

"Give me a minute," she said and rushed downstairs.

###

Califia met Misty at the entrance bar.

"So," Misty said, looking Califia up and down, "how is that guy in twenty treating you? He's fucking hot."

Califia reached for four shots of the most expensive tequila the club had and placed them on a tray.

"That guy happens to be my boyfriend."

"No shit?"

"Yep."

"The guy with the black American Express card, Rolex, Hugo Boss fits and come-hither eyes?"

"That's my man."

Misty looked her up and down again.

"He seems a little refined for what I'd expect you to catch."

Califia knew Misty could get a little greasy when she was jealous, which was rare. It made Califia wonder how hard she tried to persuade N'Jobu to keep her as his server.

"How long have you two been together?"

"A year," Califia lied.

"Okay, girl. Still waters run deep, I guess. Wouldn't think you could pull someone like that."

Califia picked up her drinks.

"Darla knows this already, but he doesn't want anyone else coming up there. So pass the word along, would you?" Califia said, walking away with the tray and swiveling her hips. When she faced the security guard she nudged him with her elbow.

"The gentleman upstairs doesn't want to be bothered. Please make sure no one comes up unless he requests them personally. Especially Misty."

###

Califia and N'Jobu tossed back both shots of the tequila she brought up. She made him sit on one of the couches furthest away from the railing where they couldn't be seen. Above the couch were adjustable lights in various colors to set any type of mood. Califia chose a soft white light that allowed him to see, but not harsh enough to kill the mood.

Standing before him she held her hands on her hips.

"Rule number one. No touching."

"Got it," he said.

"Rule number two. No means no. Rule number three, I can stop at any time I choose, and if you make me feel uncomfortable, I will call Rusty, the security guard at the bottom of the stairs."

"Anything else?"

"Have fun."

Califia felt the tequila coursing through her as it chased the champagne she had earlier. She could feel the spreading warmth move from her throat and ease down into her chest. N'Jobu watched her face, his legs slightly parted with his hands resting on the sides of his hips.

The boom bap of the music down below was piped into their V.I.P. area with small but powerful JBL speakers above them. She didn't like the song that was playing, and once Medusa left the stage, the DJ returned to bargain basement beats.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, trying to read her facial expression.

"This song sucks…," she said, wishing she could have an on/off switch to shut down the music.

"I don't care about the music," he said.

She was ready to answer him when a slower seductive instrumental piped in.

"That'll work," she said as the tequila-infused her with liquid courage.

She bent down and kissed him softly on his lips then eased back.

Lord, please don't let this come off corny, she thought as she slid her hands down her waist and onto her knees. She spread her legs and dropped down to the floor. She kept her eyes on him until she spun around in her heels so that she was facing opposite him and eased herself back up so that her ass was near his face. She dropped down onto his lap and heard a slight groan escape him as his hands reached out to hold her waist. She already knew he wanted to lift her up and down.

"I said no touching."

She slapped his hands away as she did slow gyrations on his thighs then lowered her hands to grab her ankles, her legs in an upside-down V formation. She flexed the muscles in her ass causing small spasms of movement in each cheek.

N'Jobu said something in his own language as her fingers did a slow glide back up her legs. She angled her torso so that she could look back at him. She dropped back onto his thighs and inched her way further back on his lap until she could feel herself sitting on his dick.

She rested her hands on his knees, leaned forward and bounced, feeling his semi-erection grow under her. He thrust his hips a bit and she gripped his knees tighter to keep herself steady. The silky thin material of her short shorts was really a poor barrier, and she could feel him stiffening more beneath her wiggling. The tiny black G-string she wore tugged on her labia, the friction causing a pleasurable tingling sensation. She found herself exhaling through her mouth. She wanted to see his face.

Turning her body around, she rolled her hips on his lap, feeling her clit rub against his bulge. She exhaled harder, finding herself losing a bit of focus on the task at hand as she made small circles with her hips. She reached up and pushed her breasts together, her tight shirt forcing her tits to spill from her push up bra. Her nipples perked up, and she tweaked them through the shirt and bra with her fingers. N'Jobu's eyes darted between her face, chest, and waist. Her shorts were sticking to the shape of her vulva and she saw his eyes narrow as he noticed the evidence of her arousal.

"Califia," he whispered, still thrusting his constricted erection between her thighs, "let me see your pussy."

Her eyes closed involuntarily at the sound of his request. She was supposed to be running this lap dance. Not him. When she re-opened her eyes, she saw him staring at her mound, his lips parted, and his face constricted in a way that could be read as both pleasure and pain. He stopped thrusting into her, eyes still on her lower half.

"Ahhh, please…let me see your pussy."

She took her right hand and patted her vulva.

"You want to see it, baby?"

"Yesssss, please," he murmured.

She took her time reaching down between them to slide the material of her shorts to the side with one hand. Her other hand plucked at the G-string and they both saw a shiny thread of her arousal sticking to the panties. She tugged on it so that the thin black material spread open the right side of her inner lips and he could see her opening.

"Califia, shit," he groaned, his index and middle finger reaching over and scissoring her clit. He stared at the small trimmed thatch of her reddish pubic hairs on her mound and the freshly waxed smoothness of her vulva. She felt the flow of blood causing her to engorge, making her pussy a succulent oasis for the perfect dick.

"There are rules. No touching," she said brushing away his fingers, but patting her clit herself. N'Jobu's lips were pressed together in a tight line, his eyes steady on her hand slapping her own skin.

"Look at your fat pussy, baby," he said, his fingers on both hands twitching, trying to hold back from fingering her. His eyes raised to gaze at her again. His face looked twisted in anguish, and it turned her on. She unfastened his pants and he helped her slide his slacks and silk boxers down. She slid her fingers around his fat cock and placed it between her legs so that her slickened labia spread right below the head. She shifted her weight and began rubbing her pussy on his dick. They both could hear the sound of it slipping and sliding on him. N'Jobu's hands made another pitiful attempt to touch her, this time groping for her ass, but she slapped them away again and reached for his white gold neck chain necklace, twisting it in her hand so that she was actually choking him with it.

"I said no touching! Can't you follow the rules, sir?"

His eyes widened a bit with surprise, but she felt his cock pulse underneath her. She held onto the twisted chain and kept grinding on him, a slow tickling building up in her clit. She looked down at her labia pressed onto him. A thin drizzle of pre-cum spilled from his tip and she watched it roll down and coat her lower lips. She gasped and released his chain.

"Bay-bee…," she moaned out to him.

"Go ahead, girl. Give me that pussy."

"Uh, huh, uh, huh,…hmmmm…," was all she got out.

"That's your dick…that's your dick…that's all yours," he uttered, encouraging her to keep grinding on him.

"Huh, Jobu…," she said. She felt her voice straining, the wet evidence of her desire flowing out, making his dick shiny.

"Open up your pussy, let me see it," he said.

Califia reached down, lifted up from his dick and spread open her labia, her slippery fingers barely able to keep her folds spread apart. She saw his mouth drop open again while a deeply felt groan tumbled from his lips.

"You're coming home with me tonight," he said, still staring at her pussy.

"Bay-bee…," she whimpered.

"Look at me…I said look at me, Califia."

She kept her pussy spread open for him but allowed her eyes to rest on his face. The intensity she saw there brought her anxious desire for him to the surface. She closed her eyes seeking a little shelter from his gorgeous face, just enough of a break to let her gather her wits and keep from being overwhelmed by his forceful energy.

"Tell me you want me inside you tonight," he said.

She needed to rub herself against him, needed that fat dick to be buried in her balls deep. She couldn't take any more waiting.

"I want you inside me," she blurted out, "I need to be in your bed. I need you to be in my pussy, Jobu."

She spread her thighs so that her pussy splayed open wider.

"Shit," he said, his eyes wrenched back to her opening, "I'm going to be in there deep, baby."

Califia yelped and dropped back on him with her clit on his dick, rocking him with a frantic energy.

"You want me in there deep?" he asked.

"Yes!" she snapped, her body lurched forward as she held onto his shoulders. He enclosed his fingers around her waist to balance her.

"You'll take all this dick?"

"Yes, baby."

"All of it?"

"Bay-bee—"

"All this dick. Right?!"

"Yes—"

"Say it then! All of it!"

"I'll take all of it! All your dick…all your dick…all of it…Oh…God….Jobu…Jobu…Jobu…"

Califia's head fell forward onto his shoulder and she was cumming,…hard…all over his dick. She trembled in his lap as the spasms in her core rocked her into a state of bliss, her skin thrumming with the feverish release of her orgasm. She felt her toes bunch up as her thighs squeezed his hips.

She felt N'Jobu pull her close to him and she felt the warm breath of his mouth blowing in her ear. He was talking to her in his language again, the soft dulcet tones bringing her back to her senses. She felt his fingers pulling her G-string and shorts back into place despite the stickiness she felt still dripping out of her.

"Go get your things. We're leaving," he said.

"But I have to finish my shift—"

"Fuck that shift," he said, pulling her off of him and fixing his own clothes, "Go. Hurry up. I'll meet you down by the bar near the exit. I need to close out my tab."

She stared at him. They were finally going to do this.

"Call your grandmother and tell her you're not coming home," he said.

Califia saw the heat growing in his eyes again. She was still giddy from her orgasm.

"Don't even bother changing, just get your stuff," he said.

She ran down the stairs. All she could think about was his bed and him on top of her. At last.

###

N'Jobu paid for his time and drinks in V.I.P. Rainbow girl and Misty watched him as he waited for Califia. Misty, in particular, was giving him stares that made him feel like she was upset about something. Their manager, Darla, was not happy when N'Jobu announced in a brisk tone that they needed to find someone else to replace Califia for good.

When Califia walked back from getting her backpack and helmet, N'Jobu interlaced his fingers with hers and guided her out of the club.

"My bike is in the employee parking—"

"We'll come back for it tomorrow," he said shoving open the front double doors of the club.

Outside, the staccato click-clack of her heels echoed in his ears. When they reached his car, he opened the passenger side for her and couldn't keep his eyes off her backside when she climbed in.

He wanted to spank her.

The compulsion rose up in him so fast he had to catch his breath. But he had to get her home first, get her naked, make her understand that he wasn't playing about getting deep inside of her. His dick was a solid mass of neediness. She had him wound up tight, and now that he saw her pussy, and what awaited his cock, he had to fight an inner battle not to fuck her in the backseat right there in the parking lot. He prayed that the fresh box of ultra-thin condoms he had waiting at home could withstand the intense thrusts he had planned for her. He had to close his eyes for a moment when he opened his driver's side door. He hadn't felt this type of anticipation in a long ass time. It was making him feel punch drunk.

Watching her face when she orgasmed gave him such a rush. Even though he loved to hear his women talk back to him when he shared pleasure with them, Califia made his dick even harder with just the sounds and facial expressions she made. Those soft but desperate pants…the way her voice went "Oh!" when his dick rubbed her delicate folds just right, spreading his wetness all over her juicy clit. When he was on the edge, his lips parting as he watched her chase her orgasm, she seemed to pick up on his heightened pleasure, creating a feedback loop that spun him into his tortuous goal of not cumming until they were between his sheets. His balls had become so heavy that he thought he was going to lose it when thankfully, she let go first. He felt that Califia-induced tunnel vision closing in on him.

He started up the car and led them out of the cul-de-sac and away from the club. The first red light he came to, he looked over at her and knew he was in trouble. She had taken off her push up bra, and he could see her hard nipples poking through her top. And those fucking thighs of hers. He reached over and tugged on her shorts.

"Pull those down. To your ankles," he said.

Her eyes drifted across his face. The hard-line look in his eyes let her know he wanted it done right away. She pulled them down, letting her shorts and G-string sit atop her heels. He reached over with his right hand giving her mound a gentle tap.

"Open your legs," he said.

"Hmphh,…baby," she sighed, spreading her thighs a little bit. He tapped her there again a little harder with two fingers. She let her head fall back onto the headrest, but she kept her fervent eyes on him while twisting her lips.

"Show me your pussy again," he demanded, "use both of your hands."

Califia gently peeled back her inner lips and opened her center up to him. He checked the traffic light again. It was still red. He wet his ring and index finger with his mouth, then reached over and teased her opening. When her strained whimpering got the best of him, he inserted his fingers inside of her, just to the first knuckle.

"Jobu," she gasped. He pressed in more, all the way in, curling his fingers a bit. He started to tap along her wall.

The light turned green and he kept his fingers inside of her, giving slow rhythmic thrusts as he drove.

"I'm getting this pussy ready," he said, "don't move."

Driving closer to his apartment, he made his digits work a little faster. She dropped her fingers from her opening when they reached another red light.

"No, …put them back. Keep your pussy open for me, just like that…yes…wider…you're so wet for me…open it wider…yesssss… look at that pretty pussy…"

Her whimpering devolved into raw tremulous pants. Her eyes were still on him but at half-mast. He pulled his fingers out and yanked her top up so he could see her breasts.

"Fuck…," he said, squeezing her left breast and fussing with her nipple, "keep that pussy open."

She did. He played with her tits, then stuck three fingers inside of her. She kept her eyes on him.

"I like how you hold that pussy open for me," he said stroking her insides. She squirmed in the seat.

They came to another red light and he pulled his fingers out.

"Play with your tits for me."

Califia cradled and kneaded her breasts with such sensual touches that he found himself mumbling curse words in Wakandan. He told her how nice and ripe her breasts were, how he couldn't wait to suck on them after he fucked the shit out of her. She had no idea what he was saying, but he sensed the tone in which he spoke to her was getting his message across. Crude thoughts consumed his mind and he couldn't help it. He felt intoxicated watching her while also watching for the light to change.

Her thumbs and index fingers massaged her nipples, plucking them at intervals that made him forget to check the light. His escalating desire was making him impatient. He slipped his fingers back inside of her, hooking them so that he could tease her clit with the rest of his hand. He drove on while still giving her thrusts with his fingers. His dick jumping in his pants was almost unbearable.

"Jobu," she whined, and he couldn't look at her, his eyes fixed on the road, trying to make it safely to his apartment without crashing because of her distracting wet pussy. He spoke to her again in Wakandan, his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth brushing near his incisors as his words now incorporated the traditional clicks of his language. It was when he was telling her how she was making him feel and his tongue made a loud "clop" sound that she lost it.

He felt a tightening on his fingers and heard a long drawn out moan stagger from her mouth in waves.

"Yes, baby," he shouted at her as he felt her thighs slam shut around his fingers, "cum on my hand!"

He pulled up to the security gate of his apartment and put his car in park awkwardly with his left hand. Turning his head, he stared down at his fingers between her legs and then dragged his eyes up to her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she had her hands cupping her breasts like a divine offering. He wanted to reach into his pants and pull out his erection so he could decorate her tits with his semen, but his bed was mere seconds away in his mind.

He gently removed his fingers from inside of her, and her eyes parted open slightly, barely registering his face. He stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste her.

"Fuck," he said, licking his fingers with deliberate care as she watched him with sated eyes.

He found his parking spot and watched her slowly pull up her G-string and shorts. Hopping out of the driver's side, he wasted no time grabbing her backpack from the backseat and helping her out on wobbly legs. He clasped her hand and walked her up the stairs and into his home.

###

She felt like she was floating.

The minute they were inside the apartment, N'Jobu tossed her backpack on the couch and began kissing her without turning any lights on. She matched his intensity as he backed her towards his bedroom. When he had her in front of his open bedroom door he released her lips but kept his face near hers. She could feel heat radiating from his body. Draping her hands around his neck, she waited for him to say something.

"Is everything okay?" she finally asked when a minute seemed to pass and he didn't move or say anything. Was he changing his mind? His enthusiasm seemed to taper off.

"N'Jobu?"

She touched his face, unable to see him well in the dark hallway. He reached behind her and turned on his bedroom lights. His face illuminated, she realized she was mistaken about his excitement tapering off. She could see a yearning in his eyes, and his lips made her ache to kiss him again.

"I want to take my time with you," he finally said, touching one of her braids.

"Okay," she answered, giving him a shy smile.

He stared at her a bit longer, like he was trying to figure out the words he wanted to say. In the car, his voice rumbled foreign words that coaxed her into a state of uninhibited physical abandon. Sitting in a car with her legs spread open, the old torments of worrying that she would take forever to relax and climax was gone. She tumbled so fast into her orgasm that she almost forgot where she was when he helped her out of his car.

Trusting her instincts, Califia stepped into his bedroom backward, slowly unbuttoning her top. The track lights in his bedroom were ultra-bright. N'Jobu reached over and tried to lower the intensity of the lighting.

"Keep them all the way up. I want to see all of you," she said, kicking off her heels and sliding her shorts and panties off.

She stepped away from her clothes and kept easing back until her calves hit the bed. It was a lot lower than she expected. Glancing around she saw that all his furniture was dark chestnut, and he had a wing-backed chair propped near his mirrored sliding closet doors.

Looking back at him, she watched him unbutton his shirt, taking it off along with a black t-shirt and tossing them onto the chair. As he slipped off his shoes and socks, Califia crawled onto his bed, resting on her knees with her thighs spread wide. She skimmed her fingers around her breasts, cupping them in her hands and holding them up for him. His eyes were glued to her nipples as he slipped out of his pants and underwear.

Her eyes drifted down to look at his cock.

Jesus.

He was still semi-erect, but if he had more to fill out…

She felt a fiery electric spark race up her spine. He was the most beautiful naked man she had ever seen. Every ratio on his body was in proportion for complete perfection, and she couldn't get over the even rich color of skin. His white-gold necklace glowed against his ebony skin. Her eyes raked up and down his body and she was especially intrigued by the deep V lines that ran from his waist to his groin.

Plucking her nipples again, she rested her thighs back on her haunches. His eyes never left her breasts and she saw his dick grow to full hardness without him touching it, the weight of it making it bob up and down. A small gasp left her mouth and her fingers found their way between her legs as she played with her prominent slick folds. His eyes caught that movement as she teased her opening. She was learning all the things that got him off, and opening up her pussy lips and displaying them was a big turn on for him, so she tormented him a bit by opening and closing her folds while bouncing a bit on his bed, letting her pussy touch the expensive duvet. It worked. He grabbed his dick in one hand and slapped the weight of it in the other.

"Ooh..shit…" she whispered and fell all the way back on the bed, stunned by the loud thwack sound his dick made as he struck his palm several times with it. She bent her knees and spread her legs, working her fingers in small circles around her clit as she watched him approach her.

N'Jobu stroked his dick and kept his eyes fixed on her eyes. Califia sunk her fingers back inside herself, already super-charged by the sight of his cock and that fat sack of his. Her nose was crinkled and she felt her eyes squeeze shut as she smooshed her lips together. She craved another orgasm.

She felt her thighs being hooked and dragged to the edge of the bed. Eyes snapping open, she found N'Jobu down on his knees by the side of the bed with his face between her legs. Her thighs were hanging over his muscular arms.

"Lay back," he said in a soft voice.

"But I want to watch you," she whispered back.

He stared in her eyes for a few seconds.

"Then watch," he said, placing his entire mouth over her pussy.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh."

N'Jobu sucked pussy liked he sucked on her tits; Gentle. Probing. And oh, so slow.

The hair on his goatee gave a delicious tickle to her private parts, and he flattened his wide tongue to roll over her folds. His tongue explored each side of her labia, and when he feasted on her clit with delicate licks and circular sucking motions, she felt like she wanted to cry because he was gazing at her with such adoration as he did it. Every now and then his eyes would close and he would use his mouth to hum and vibrate her pussy. Lapping up her juices, he dipped his tongue in and out, still holding her thighs apart.

"Hunnhhhhhh," came out of her mouth, and he slowed down to an even more excruciating snail-like pace. All she could think was, This nigga is tryna kill me before I even get the dick.

His fingers slid up her waist and ribcage, gripping her breasts in each hand, squeezing, shaking, and claiming their fullness. Once he toyed with her nipples, an inner connection was made and a strong sexual current shot down to her clit. She began to moan and he lifted his head to stare at her pussy.

"Damn…Califia…girl….look at your pussy twitching…."

She lifted herself higher on her elbows and looked down at his glistening lips, goatee, and cheeks as his eyes were riveted to her clit. She could see herself jumping down there. He was mesmerized, allowing his tongue to dip and lick inside her juicy wet opening, then watch the reaction of her clit as it continued to quiver on its own. He took his thumb and pressed down on her clit with light pressure, then gave a slow delicate swirl to it with his tongue.

"Bay-bee," she said, wanting to cum all in his mouth at that point.

"Califia, I need to cum, real quick. I just…I have to… I can't…ah…shit…"

N'Jobu released her thighs and she saw his right hand grab his dick and stroke it.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

Was he about to bust one while he hadn't finished her off?

Legs splayed open, and her pussy on the verge of imploding from his mouth, she watched him stare at her pussy while he long stroked himself. He placed his fingers under the fat head and tugged hard.

"Your pussy is still twitching, girl. Goddammit….goddammit…your pussy—"

He gritted his teeth as he aimed his dick towards the hem of the duvet and released a stream of semen along with a painful groan that excited her even more. After draining his dick, N'Jobu looked at the puddle of cum he left on the bottom of the bed cover.

"Fuck," he said, his breathing unsteady, his fingers releasing his cock.

Before she could bitch to him, he was back on her pussy with a vengeance, and this time she fell all the way on her back, letting him have his way. Staring at the ceiling all she could hear was the smacking of his lush lips, the sublime gushy sounds escaping between her thighs with each lap of his tongue. She reached down and stroked his head with her fingers. He nipped, sucked, and swallowed everything that she gave him, and when he started humming and making her skin vibrate at her core once more, she gratefully came undone, her hips and legs bucking with unrestrained ardor. He had to hold her thighs apart to keep her from smothering him.

Looking down at him, he had a smile on his face as he studied her reaction.

"Oh my God…Jobu…baby…what the fuck?!"

Her body jerked a bit, and she closed her eyes, drawing in deep breaths to control her trembling. N'Jobu crawled up alongside her and kissed her. She sucked her own taste from his mouth and loved every moment of it as he fingered her right breast.

Drawing her in closer, he draped his arm over her stomach and kissed her cheek.

"You taste so fucking good," he said.

She beamed as she felt her body sink into a languorous state. She was so happy that she didn't have to leave his bed right away. She had texted Soliel at the club that she wouldn't be coming to spend the night with her, so there was no need to tell her grandmother anything. She wasn't expected anywhere until Saturday evening.

She stretched her body like a well-fed cat and threw her arm across N'Jobu's, looking him in his eyes.

"You made me feel so good. Three orgasms…"

She stretched again, a small yawn escaping her lips.

"Tired?" he asked.

"It's been a long day."

"It has," he said, kissing her cheek again, "you want to take a shower?"

The fingers on his left hand were still stroking and plying her breasts with light caresses, and she felt hypnotized by the motion. He would circle a nipple, then squeeze her breasts so that her large areolas would peek out from his hand. He bent his head to suck and bite at them as he was talking to her.

"I can give you a long clean t-shirt, and I have a lot of different body washes you can choose from…"

She tried to concentrate on his words but his handling of her breasts had her revving up again.

"Damn, you suck titties so good, boy…" she said, arching her back as his nipple play had her opening her legs again.

She reached up and pulled his hand back down between her legs, then reached for his dick. It had gone slightly soft. Slightly.

"So, a shower?" he said.

"I want you in me," she said showing no restraint as she worked his cock.

His eyes bulged when she squeezed his balls.

"Didn't you promise me you would go deep inside me?"

She massaged his cock until it was standing at attention. He grabbed it away from her and dragged it up and down and around her opening. When he pressed it against her center, she looked down at it nervously. It was so big. She watched him tease circles in her folds. He didn't think he wasn't going to use a condom, did he? She tensed a bit when she thought he was going to shove himself inside her unprotected and placed her hand on his hand to stop him from trying.

He kissed her again and rolled over towards a pillow. He reached under and pulled out a condom. She felt her body go slack with relief. He tore open the packet and rolled the condom onto himself. It was clear and fit his huge dick like a thin layer of skin. It was a brand she was unfamiliar with. Of course, he had a dick size that was new to her too.

N'Jobu pulled her closer and kissed her, and she eased into his full lips. In all honesty, they could kiss all night and she would be enthralled with him, but his dick was jutting out and striking her belly. He brushed a finger over her breasts again then whispered in her ear.

"Are you ready for me?"

"Yes."

He stroked her clit again, then dipped his fingers lower.

"So wet," he muttered.

He positioned himself between her legs, and she rested her thighs in her own hands, lifting them up a bit, presenting herself to him. She saw his face quake when she did that. There was something about serving herself up to him that just sent him over the edge. He reached over and grabbed a pillow for her lifting her up a bit and placing it under her back for comfort.

He looked down into her eyes, and she felt a swelling in her heart. He kept his eyes on her, then looked down for a second as he lined up his cock. She felt him press the head of his dick inside her, and then his eyes were back on her.

He pushed in slowly, watching the expression on her face. She shifted her hips as he eased in more. He was a third of the way in when the sensation of being too full too fast overtook her and she tensed.

"Am I hurting you?" The concern in his voice made her more comfortable.

"Give me a second to get used to it," she gritted through her teeth. He pulled back a little.

"No, don't pull out…just…take it slow…I'll be okay," she said.

The sensation felt so good, and so overwhelming at the same time. There was no dick like new dick, and N'Jobu was packing the good stuff. She wiggled on him a bit, and he exhaled hard, still gazing at her face.

"You're so juicy… pussy gripping me tight…," he said. She watched a sheen of perspiration accumulate on his brow.

He gave her small shallow thrusts and she got used to the shocking fullness. She spread her legs wider, removing her hands from her thighs and resting them on the planes of his chest. He looked down at his dick going inside of her.

"You okay?" he asked, staring into her eyes again.

"Go deeper," she said.

His eyes reacted to her words and he shifted his hips and thrust in further, making her lips press together then open suddenly.

"Oh…shit…," she said wrapping her arms around his neck, gently scraping her nails on his nape.

They both could hear his dick going inside of her. He pulled out a few inches, then slid back in a little further than he was before. He was stretching her out and it felt incredible. She laid back to watch him. His eyes fixed on hers, but they took on an intimate unguarded look. She could tell he was turned on by her and probably wanted to do more but also wanted to make her comfortable with his restraint.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"Fuck me."

N'Jobu lifted up his knees throwing her legs over his arms and plunged his cock as deep as he could get. She tried to watch his dick going in and out of her, but at that point, she needed to be fucked well by him, and just clung to his neck. His hips slamming into her were unwavering as he stroked deep inside her tight walls. She could feel her juices spilling against his thighs thanks to all those orgasms he gave her earlier. She couldn't hold onto him any longer and just fell back on the bed. He shifted again and pressed himself on top of her, his mouth searing the side of her neck as he sucked on it while slamming his cock into her. She felt his mouth angle up her face until he was rasping into her ear, "I'm balls deep, girl…shit…you're taking all this dick…fuck."

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held tight to his back.

He was hers.

She laid back and pondered every sensation he gave her, his lips right at her ear as he whispered things to her and only her.

"Jobu, you feel so good in my pussy."

"This pussy is all mine, right?'

"Yes," she moaned, "you're in so deep baby…so deep…"

"I should've been fucking you a long time ago," he said, pulling out slowly. He swiveled his hips and slid back in even slower. She wanted him fast and hard and began bucking her hips.

"Harder, baby…," she said, wanting his balls to slap against her ass.

"Harder?"

"Yes…harder…and faster… I want you to cum."

He stopped moving and lifted up to stare down at her.

"Is that what you want?" He said pulling his dick all the way out and slamming it back into her fast. Her eyes snapped shut. She took a deep shaky breath and opened them again.

"Fuck me," she whimpered, her eyes watery, her legs becoming tired and heavy. He lifted her legs up and threw them over his shoulder and drove his cock in until he bottomed out.

"You asked for this…is this what you wanted?"

His thighs were so strong pressed into her and she was so deliriously happy that they could be loud, nasty, and alone.

"I want it, baby. Give it," she answered.

N'Jobu's face was like a man possessed. He fucked her with abandon and precise dickmanship. She thought of the time when Serah told her about the way he fucked, and that bitch wasn't lying at all. She just let him go, and he was hitting angles and spots in her pussy that she didn't know she had. She was going to be sore later, that was a given because his dick was relentless. And she was taking it. His bed rattled and she allowed her fingers to graze across his taut nipples. His deep penetration worked her back out, and she relished every pull on her muscles that he dragged out of her.

"Damn this pussy is so good," he said.

"It's all yours," she said, reaching up and twisting his gold chain.

"Say that again," he urged, his voice straining.

She pulled and twisted his chain, choking him a bit.

"This pussy is all yours. Take it. Take it all baby," she said, squeezing her thighs tight.

"Ah fuck…." His lips parted and he was exhaling through his mouth now. She wiggled her ass and internally, she squeezed her walls now that she was fully comfortable with his dick.

"I feel you," he said, closing his eyes above her. She still pulled on his chain.

"You want to cum?" she asked him, her own voice sounded like it was going to crack. She released his necklace.

"Fuck my dick," he said, spreading her legs out further and pressing them down into the mattress. He reached up and squeezed her tits, then reached down to grip her waist. He was losing it. She wiggled on him, matching his thrusts and tightening her pussy on his dick, the friction between them a molten wet mess. He looked down at where they were joined.

"Damn, you're creaming everywhere!"

Lifting her head, she looked down and saw that it was true.

"You made me do that," she said.

"That's my fault?"

"Yes."

He gave her the biggest smile and then his face contorted when she gyrated and clenched his dick at the same time.

"This… good…pussy…fuck...I'm cumming!"

They both looked down at his surging cock and watched as it pumped semen into the condom.

"That's it, baby, give it to me," she said, taking her fingers and widening her labia for him.

"You're so good, girl…I'm filling this shit up-"

His voice broke and then he was speaking Wakandan to her until his hips jerked.

He squeezed her left breast hard, then collapsed in a satisfied heap on top of her. She held him tight and kissed his forehead. When his breathing returned to normal she heard him say, "You better call whoever you need to. You aren't leaving here for the next two days."

Chapter 16 HERE.

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#n'jobu #njobu #n'jobu fanfic #blackpanther #black panther #daddykillmonger

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