#we are not alone. we have never been alone.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― i like the way you kiss me . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

― the ways in which they kiss you when you aren't actually together yet ₊˚⊹♡

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn! reader, choso x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, slightly suggestive for some of them if you squint a/n: just some headcanons i wanted to write after listening to i like the way you kiss me by artemas plus i needed a short writing break from my risk - megumi fic that i've been working on. hope you guys enjoy this !!!

gojo satoru kisses you like he misses you already despite barely being apart for more than a few hours. it didn't matter to him that he just saw you moments ago. that was nothing more than a trivial fact to him, just like the fact that you two still weren't actually together yet, in the grand scheme of things. why should he be waiting any second longer to feel your touch on him? he was never good at being patient anyways.

"missing me already huh?" you murmur against his lips, his hands securing you against him as he pinned you against the brick wall of the restaurant behind you two.

he scoffs at your comment. "oh shut up." his lips are on yours again in a matter of second. you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying this. to see someone so powerful like gojo satoru yet so susceptible to your presence to the point where he couldn't wait anymore to have your lips against his. with his flushed cheeks and slightly puffy lips, you want to forever immortalise this image of him in your mind. silently, you thanked whatever was out there that he decided to forgo his sunglasses tonight as their absence allowed you to truly appreciate the beauty of his eyes, even being able to notice the tiniest specks of what appeared to be gold in his pupils.

as he tilts his head to the side to better fit his features against yours, you swear you can feel his every breath with how flushed his chest is against yours. you even earn a soft groan from him when your fingers dance across his undercut, taking your time to run your hands through his snowy locks.

you're glad that his eyes are closed right now, getting a ticklish sensation as his long eyelashes kiss the expanses of your cheeks with the slight flutter of his eyes so that he isn't able to notice how the red blush that was once contained on your face has now expanded outwards to the tip of your eyes. he bites at your bottom lip gently, as if asking for permission to go further and you grant his request with a faint gasp of your own.

"noisy, aren't we?"

"oh shut up."

geto suguru kisses you like you're his already. the way he snakes his arms around your waist and presses his lips against yours only makes you sink further into his touch. if he wasn't holding you up right now, you would probably melt into the floor just from his proximity alone. you've been dancing around the issue for a few months now, fleeting touches in a dark room, longing glances across the room. it was all fun and games for both of you, seeing how long you could drag out this game of teasing and temptation until the other had enough. you thought you were doing pretty well. that is, until he decided to show up here again and well, just imagine the feeling of his lips against yours wasn't enough anymore.

you've always wondered what it would feel like to card your hands through his raven tresses and now, with your fingers tangled in up there, you can safely say it was better than you could have ever imagined. if it wasn't you who was the one messing up his hair, he would have some choice words to say about it, but as of right now, that was the least of his concerns. right now, his priority was seeing how long it would take for him to become consumed by his desire for you and it seemed like he wasn't going to last long. not with how you would let out a low whine every time his teeth grazed your lips or with your wandering hands taking this opportunity to explore the expanses of his well-sculpted back.

you feel like you've just had your breath stolen from you with how heavily you were panting against him, your faces flushed with want and kiss-swollen lips as evidence of what had recently transpired between the two of you. neither of you make the move to break apart as he leans down to ask.

"so what does this make us?"

nanami kento kisses you with so much restraint it only incites you to try and break down his defences further. his kisses barely feel like pecks, leaving you to subconsciously chase him for more every time he pulls away. he doesn't dare to try and do more, to push the boundary further. not only are you not technically together yet but also he's afraid. not of you, but rather of what would happen if he let his resolve fall and indulged in his selfish desires for what would be the first time in a long while.

he stops for a moment, his face barely hovering centimetres above from yours as his eyes flicker between your slightly agape mouth and your half-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you try to anticipate his next. he couldn't tell which one was drawing him in more at that moment. his breath hitches momentarily when he feels a soft tug at his tie, your right hand absent-mindedly toying with the edges of it as you place your other hand against his chest as if attempting to brace yourself against him. he couldn't tell but your legs felt like they were about to give out at any second with how every single cell in your body felt electrified with the amount of desire and anxiety coursing through your veins.

silence dragged on for what felt like ages, both of you unmoving in your positions until you muttered under your breath. "kento..." your voice was barely above a whisper but at that moment, it turns out that he was not as strong in his resolve as he thought he was with that being all he needed to dive right into you, fully untethered this time as his lips crashed against yours.

kamo choso kisses you like he's scared that this will be the first and last time he'll ever get to do so. there's so much fear and hesitation in his movements yet at the same time, you can feel the fervour and passion that is pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against you. his hands are hovering around your figure, scared to fully let himself hold you as if he's worried that the moment he makes contact, you're going to snap out of whatever daze you're in and run away from him. you aren't going to do that of course, if only he knew how long you were waiting for this to happen. as you feel the cold of the concrete wall against your back, the two of you part, albeit reluctantly, from each other to catch your breaths.

"..are you sure?" he asks breathlessly. his pupils are blown wide open as his eyes seemingly turn into infinite purple voids, watching your every movement unblinking.

you run your fingers across the back of his neck, toying slightly with some of the loose black strands that were clinging to his skin. he looks pretty like this, you think to yourself. he looks at you so eagerly, so soft and pliable in your hands, as he nervously awaits for your response.

"never been more sure."

fushiguro megumi kisses you like you're the air he breathes. who would have thought someone so famously reserved like megumi had it in him like this? you aren't given long to ponder on that thought as his lips are against yours once again, moving in sync with an imaginary rhythm as you frenziedly grasp at the material of his shirt in a weak attempt to try and ground you against his closeness to you. with every slide of his lips past yours, you're pretty sure that he's simultaneously taking and giving you back your breath which you previously thought would be impossible to do but are now sorely proven wrong.

you're not even a lightweight or anything when it comes to alcohol but you're pretty sure you're drunk on the feeling of him the moment his mouth was on yours. much to your surprise, the spikes that he calls his hair are actually pretty soft as you run your hands through them, a soft tug at the hair beneath your fingers drawing out a barely disguised groan from him. you giggle softly against his lips at his reaction and he silences you with another kiss, not that you were complaining as you ardently respond by tilting your head off to the side slightly to grant him better access to your face. your eyes are closed but you can imagine the half-hearted scowl on his face with how his brows furrow in the way that they always do against your forehead.

even though it was barely minutes ago, your mind is hazy as you try to remember the circumstances that led to this situation right now. it was probably a stupid argument that you guys got into, like the two of you usually do, and somehow that resulted in him wanting to prove his point more unconventionally. you give up on trying to recall the details as you can feel your face start to burn up as one of his hands start to wander down to rest against your hips.

"so," he pants, the heat of his breath is warm against your lips. "does that prove my point?"

itadori yuji kisses you eagerly, trying to savour every single moment of his lips against yours. you could feel the excitement basically pouring out from him with each movement of his lips against you, even eliciting a giggle from him that reverberates against your mouth as your noses bump against each other. it's a messy, disorganised sort of kiss with you being sure this is the third time you've accidentally grazed your teeth against his. fortunately for both of you, you're all way too engrossed and intoxicated on the sensation of the other's lips to care.

every time one of you tries to catch your breath, the other tries to chase your lips as they attempt to recapture that feeling again. as your arms encircle his neck, pulling you close to him, you're pretty sure you can feel him groan quietly against your lips with his hands reaching up to cup your face. with a deep sigh, you sink into his warm embrace, taking the moment to fully breathe him in like your life depended on it.

one of his hands falls from your face and gives a tentative squeeze at your waist to which you gasp quietly. taking this opportunity, he breaks apart from your lips and presses a flurry of kisses across your face which earns him a wide grin from you as you half-heartedly attempt to defend yourself from his sudden kiss attacks.

if you knew that a simple, experimental peck on the cheek could earn you this, maybe you should try to do this more.

okkotsu yuuta kisses you like you're a dream come true. hear him out. he never thought that he would get to experience touch like this ever again in his life, nevermind it coming from you in this manner. to him, you were what sweet dreams were made of, so ethereal, so delicate and so much better than whatever could exist in such a cruel world like this. but once again, defying all his expectations, you were here right in front of him and your lips were on his, faster than in the blink of an eye.

cradling the back of your head with his hands, he leans into the feeling of your lips against his as the two of you move in sync with each other. as if the moment couldn't get better, it was as if your lips were perfectly moulded for his or vice versa. he didn't care which way it was, all this fact did was solidify the thought in his mind that you were sent down onto earth from whatever heavenly plane people like you come from just for him to bask in the presence of.

his eyes are closed for two reasons. one, because he's scared that if he opens his eyes, this will be nothing more than a dream that he has to wake up from and two because he's pretty sure that if he was able to see you in your flushed, kiss dazed glory, he would explode on the spot.

despite being able to tell how badly he's been wanting to kiss you, he doesn't let it overpower him, instead taking the upmost care to make sure that you were still unharmed, treating you as if you were some piece of delicate china that could break at the slightest of wrong moves. while it was nice, you were feeling particularly greedy in that moment. you wanted more.

right as he breaks apart for air, you're already back to pulling him closer than humanly possible at this point by the collar of his shirt and you find that you're rewarded with a soft gasp escaping from him as your lips find each other again, this time with a renewed sense of desire and want.

#dividers by cafekitsune #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk headcanons #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami x reader #megumi x reader #itadori x reader #choso x reader #yuuta x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #itadori yuji x reader #nanami kento x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #‧₊˚ ⋅ 🍵 writes

[dcxdpdabbles]

Could we get a continuation of a cluster of cores? Teen parent Danny is gonna be run ragged with so many little ones and it will only be a matter of time before Dani and Lian shows them the Puppy Eyes, good thing there gonna have plenty of aunts and uncles to also bully.

Roy's newfound hero is still locked in a coma. It's been nearly three months now, and they had managed to keep him alive with tubes feeding him food and water, but it worried everyone they could not figure out the reason for his slumber.

Dani, the young alien girl, assured everyone it was fine, as she could naturally sense her father's core healing. Despite their humanoid appearance, a quick scan showed that the Fentons (as Dani had identified them) were indeed aliens.

Then there were their documents. They were all legal... in Daxam, where these travelers were from. He had contacted the Justice League, and the Green Lanterns had easily authenticated their identities.

Daxam was a plant with a red sun, one that had life forms similar to those of Kryptonians. However, the natives of the plant, before Krypton colonized it, were different in how their young were born and the origin of their powers.

Roy has learned through the Oa headquarters records that Indigenous Daxamites were formed within cores. These egg-like parts held the entity of their souls but at too different times to fully hatch, so a sibling of a cluster could hatch five years before the rest. When they formed, their powers came from an "Obsession" or a part of their environment instead of just the sun.

Their culture and species revolved heavily around the child clusters, as Indigenous Daxamite could only lay them once in their lifetime. This was disastrous when their kind was slowly hunted into extinction, as Daxam was conquered nearly a hundred thousand years ago and became a colony by Krypton.

The Kryptonians had always targeted the clusters before they could hatch, drastically declining the numbers of Daxamites.

The Indigenous Daxamites had nearly been wiped out in a horrific genocide during the colonization days, and the remaining ones had been mixed with Kryptonians to the point their species had evolved.

The cluster of core births was nothing more than history to the planet, even when outliving Krypton. That did not mean that the generational racism died with the Kryptonians.

Daxamites had become hostile to the original Daxam dwellers (Roy found records of Kryptonians demonizing the species, often referring to their god Rao commanding them to cleanse the planet for daring to gain power from pagan gods. He is pretty sure that was just an excuse for the holy war, as Clark had never mentioned anything in.), and a sort of witch hunt for any pure Indigenous Daxamite sprung to life a thousand years ago.

The Green Lanterns corps had to step in when word reached them, but by that point, many innocent Daxamites had been executed on accusations alone of being Indigenous Daxamites. To the heavy heart of the reporting Green Lantersn, the Indigenous Daxamites have been wiped from existence because of the witch trials a good nine hundred years ago.

Oh, so they thought.

Danny Fenton and his children may as well be the very last of their kind. Roy figured that Danny and his people had hidden themselves from their government.

He likely had spent his life attempting to keep his kind a secret, as his planet had been under the thumb of an oppressive dictatorship since Krypton had perished. Daxam was notorious for its complicated border control, which made leaving the planet near impossible.

He is still determining what led to Danny's discovery, but based on what they managed to salvage from the bomb site of his once house, Danny fled his planet after his secret was outed.

There was an active warrant for his capture on Daxam and an open order to neutralize his "demonic unholy offspring." Roy felt sick when he heard from a grim-faced John Stewart, the Green Lanter working as their intermediary between the two planets, that the populace on Daxam had been campaigning for Danny's death to be slow and public, as the hatred for his kind was that deep.

Dani refused to explain how her father smuggled them all out. She mentioned a few times that they had help from a mysterious "Clockwork" but had to keep a tight lid on anything else.

All they knew for sure was that Danny was severely damaged from the escape, and his constant feedings to his young (even in his sleep, his body naturally sent over ectoplasm to the cluster that never left this side) had put him in grave danger when he saved Lian. Roy still held his daughter only because this man risked everything for a child of a planet he had no ties to.

He was willing to take on all Daxam if they dared to come for Danny for that alone.

Thankfully, Justice Leauge felt the same way, and with the support of the Green Lanterns Corp, they were debating with the galactic high court to make Danny a citizen of Earth using asylum. Things were looking good for their cause, given that Danny was with a child (children??) and that his small family was an endangered species.

The Justice League was also a recognized police force by the galactic association, no matter how new, so their word carried a lot in the court.

Roy was letting the big names handle everything political. Bruce, especially, was working overtime since the big bad bat had a giant soft spot for children. He focused more on his living situation and Danny himself.

Not only because they were best friends but because Gotham seemed to be one of the only cities with "ectoplasm" (High-density levels of death?? It was naturally, according to Daxam) that the Fentons needed. Danny was resting in the Drake Hospital of Gotham, while Dani had been housed with Jason.

Jason had been more than willing to open his home to Roy and Lian until they could return to their city. They were among the many houses destroyed, so it would be a while before their home was fixed. Oliver extended the same offer, wanting his son and granddaughter back home with him.

He would have taken Oliver's offer had Jason not asked first. Things were better between the arrows now that Roy had cleaned his addiction, but he felt more at ease with Jason.

She was still young enough to need slight feedings from her father but was also able to process food from the environment. Roy tried his best to make Dani feel at home, but he could tell by her somber eyes and weak smile that she was struggling with her displacement.

Jason was better at helping her. He made time to read her a bedtime story, have her help cook, and even take her on rides around Gotham on his bike, but somehow, he did it in a way that she didn't have to speak.

Dani seemed relaxed with him.

Roy has always known Jason was better with kids, but seeing it in person makes his heart melt.

"Is my dad awake yet?" Dani asks Lian one morning. The two girls were playing with dolls, though Dani seemed confused by them the first time. She apparently never had a doll before, and Roy is curious if it was due to her being on the constant run or if dolls were not toys on her home planet.

"I don't think so. But don't worry, my Daddy is a hero. He'll save him!"

Roy's heart leaps in joy at her words, but it breaks only half a second when Dani replies in a small voice. "My Dad is a hero too. But he can still die."

Gosh, is that something a child should say?

Roy puts down the pan he used to make pancakes, wiping his hands on his apron to tell the girls breakfast is ready when Jason comes stumbling out of his room. He had a late night as Red Hood, having taken out an uprising in one of his territories.

Usually, this means Jason sleeps until two or three in the afternoon so to see him up and about at nine was a shock. He has his phone pressed to his ear, with a frantic look in his eye causing Roy to tense.

"Thanks, Tim. I'll get Roy and the girls ready. We'll be there as soon as I can," Jason said, twisting to grab hold of Roy's shoulder. We need to get to Drake Hospital."

Hope rose in his chest as Roy pressed a hand over Jason's "Is he awake?"

Jason's mouth tightens. "No. One of the cores hatched."

Oh no.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Cluster of Cores #Part 2 #TW: Racism #tw: religious trauma #TW: Talk of injustice to Indigenous poeple #Danny and his kids backgrounds were created by Clockwork #It's was already a existing issue #He just put the Fentons as a Daxamnite to make it believable #Danny is in a coma #Roy and Jason are husbands #Pre-Roy/Jason #Dani is worried about Danny

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

HBCU CONFESSIONS.

Part Four

One entire month.

Valencia wanted nothing to do with Erik. He had come to terms with that after many failed attempts at trying to talk to her. She blocked him, she hadn’t been active on the blog in weeks since her last message, and every time he would see her around campus or in the dorms, she would turn a blind eye or walk in the opposite direction. She even stopped studying in the library to avoid him. And the thing is, she didn’t look sad, hurt, or angry. She walked around campus with a pep in her step and she smiled brightly.

Moving on wasn’t hard for her apparently. Erik can respect that. He fucked up, even if he hadn’t intended to. He didn’t plan on rekindling anything with Jeanette. EVER. At D9 parties, it’s a routine to get a sexy dance from a SOROR, but Erik didn’t expect to be the chosen one. She hopped up in his arms and locked her legs around him in a vice grip. His brothers circled him and cheered him on. Erik dropped her and she went in for a kiss. Valencia was gone within two seconds.

She hadn’t seen the part where Erik laid into Jeanette’s ass about that. Everyone thought it was hilarious. He was pissed. The dancing, he could have told her no, which he knows he fucked up on, but that kiss was unexpected and DEFINITELY not what he wanted. He apologized many times, tried speaking to her in person, and even asked her roommate, Brielle, to relay a message to her. Her socials were private and she didn’t accept outside messages from people she didn’t follow.

He wasn’t going to invade her personal space and corner her. She wanted to be left alone, he’ll give her that. No more texts, no more blog messages, no more trying to talk to her in person. He wished her well although he still really liked her. He really wanted another shot. But it would take a lot of work because Valencia would not let up. Erik respected that. He loved it actually. Maybe he needed the wake up call. He’s so used to things being easy. Nothing challenged him. But this? She wouldn’t budge.

After an exhausting class, Erik decided to make a stop at Andrea’s office and get some insight from his friend. On his way there, James was leaving her office. He was in the middle of fixing his tie and looking really sneaky. Erik snorted and shook his head. It was obvious what they were doing in there. James turned towards Erik’s direction and he smiled. They dabbed and bro hugged.

“You lookin’ stressed, my nigga. What’s good?” James questions with a chuckle.

“Lady trouble,” Erik replied with a monotone voice.

“You? Lady trouble? Since when?”

“Since now, fool.”

James didn’t believe that for a second.

“Not Mr. Suave himself. Listen,” James clapped Erik on the shoulder, “Whoever it is, she’ll come around, bruh.”

“I can never take you serious, Yo’” Erik shakes his head with a smirk, “Drea still in there? Should I giver her some time or?”

Erik jokingly pointed to the door causing James to crack up.

“Knock first.”

James backed away, saluting Erik before making his way down the hall.

“Come in!”

Erik twisted the knob and peeked his head around the door cautiously.

“Is it safe to enter, or do you still need some time?”

“Erik!”

He laughed before opening the door further. Andrea was in the middle of fluffing her voluminous hair into a ponytail. She cut her eyes at Erik and gave him a look. He sauntered over to her desk, pulled out the chair, and proceeded to take a seat while cuffing the crotch of his slim fit slacks.

“What can I do for you, best friend?”

Andrea folded her hands on her desk, tapping into her professor energy.

“I figured I could come to you for some advice. Before we get into that though,” Erik sat back in his seat, folded his arms across his sturdy chest, and arched a brow, “I see things are moving along with you and Jay.”

“They are,” Andrea cleared her throat, “Rather nicely actually…”

“And all that worrying was for nothing. I told you it would work out, girl.”

“Thank you for being so supportive!” Andrea replied with an overzealous tone, “Enough about me. What’s going on?”

“…Valencia.”

Andrea sat up straighter. A smile slowly crept up her face.

“I know that you know that I KNOW,” Erik pointed his finger like Denzel, “who my crush is.”

Andrea chuckles, “Of course I know. Don’t I use the blog too? I saw what she sent weeks ago…”

Erik propped his elbows up on her desk.

“Tell me I fucked up.” Erik said.

“You fucked up. And Jeanette is a fucking nuisance.”

Erik exhaled, “The car wash is tomorrow afternoon. She’s gonna be there—”

“Then tell that ho to leave you alone, Erik! You know it’s harder for me to get buck because I work here and I can lose my job, but she needs a reality check. I mean…did you want to get back with her?—”

“Hell nah. I wasn’t expecting all of that. I’m interested in Valencia. I wanna make it right so we can continue getting to know each other.”

Andrea raised both of her brows and grabbed her drink tumbler, sipping her tea. Erik gave her a strange look.

“And yet you allowed that girl to throw herself all over you in front of her.”

“I didn’t allow—okay, okay…I should have been more proactive in stopping her. I see that now. What should I do?”

Erik was desperate. If nothing else worked, he would leave her be for good this time. He was tired of the mental turmoil. One second he wants to leave her be, next second he’s trying to figure out how to win her back. This shit was driving him crazy. He had this on top of school to worry about.

“You’re known to be that guy, right? And you’re such a romantic, right? Romanticize her. Do it for everyone to see. Be your most vulnerable self. Show her that you will do anything to get her back.”

Erik drummed his fingers against her desk and twisted his thick lips in deep thought.

“…All I’m saying is, she’s a really nice girl. She’s such a sweetie pie. She didn’t deserve that mess. Do whatever you gotta do, Daka, seriously. I like you with her,” Andrea smiles, “I want this to actually work.”

Erik bowed his head and smiled. Even that knowledge made him feel like complete shit. Even after she told him how she’d been mistreated in past relationships. Andrea was right, he needed to go all out with his approach to this.

_______

It’s an abnormally hot day, the sun beating down on all those melanated bodies in the parking lot. Erik makes his way over to his group, shirtless and wearing athletic shorts that showed off his muscular legs. He wore Adidas slides on his feet, polarized aviator sunglasses, and purple paint streaks beneath his eyes like a proud Que Dog. Three Omega branded scars were on his right bicep.

His chest and toned stomach with skin golden brown made the gold chain hanging around his neck pop. Throwing up the hooks in greeting, his Bruhz handed him a bucket full of sudsy water and a sponge. Today was the yearly charity carwash. They hosted the event at a local lot in Houston and booked a DJ, grilled food, and offered pouch drinks. All sororities and fraternities from TSU banned together. The turnout was always big, and cars were already lining up.

"Where the hell is Isaiah?" Erik protests.

A fellow Omega, Travis, shrugged his shoulders.

"He already in hot water with the shit that happened last weekend. He keep this shit up, he's getting cut."

Erik slaps hands with all his boys, even men from other fraternaties, grinning excitedly to be at the function. Just then, Isaiah came strolling over wearing nothing but purple basketball shorts, his Nike slides on his feet with a gold fanny pack with his letters on it hanging loosely across his chest. He had a crisp line-up and all like he'd just gotten out of the barber chair.

Erik inclines his head, pulling his sunglasses off and approaching the neophyte, "You're late, Static. Get your narrow ass over there and help those cars."

Erik shoved the soapy bucket and sponge in his hands.

"Chill, Poet, I had to grab some supporters," Isaiah tilts his head and jerks his thumb behind him, a group of pretty women in a neon green Jeep Wrangler waving over at them from their open window. They honked their horn and shook their titties at them.

"Hi, Poet! you lookin' real good!" One of the girls shouted.

Erik couldn't help that he was good-looking. He's a tall man with caramel skin that was a shade darker due to the southern heat. His athletic shorts hung low off of his hips and gave anybody that looked hard enough a preview of what was beneath. He was a walking thirst-trapper.

"See? they want you, Poet," Isaiah slapped his chest with the back of his hand, "I'm lookin' out for you."

Erik put his shades back on and walked away, Isaiah throwing his hands up.

Andrea and her line sisters were wearing fitted tanktops with their soro colors and letters on it. They had black biker shorts on and different types of black sandals. The Zetas wore their soro t-shirts and little denim shorts. Majority of the ladies were mostly covered up but when the AKAs arrived, it was a scene straight from ATL. Bikini tops and booty shorts. Andrea shared a look with her sisters and rolled her eyes. It was known for the AKAs to pop out and do the most, which made them the popular ones. Jeanette wore a pink bikini with her bundles in a ponytail covered with an AKA trucker hat.

Erik locked eyes with her through his sunglasses and Jeanette blew a kiss at him. Ignoring her, Erik jumps in to help, motioning for the next car to pull up. A middle-aged black woman with her toddler in the backset gave Erik heart eyes out of the window of her Honda Odyssey. Erik gave her a smirk, sponge and bucket in his hands.

"How much to clean my whip, handsome?"

"Twenty dollars, ma'am."

"Here you go..."

The lady boldly slipped the twenty in Erik's waistband. He shakes his head, Ignoring the laughter from everybody who caught that. He placed the money in a collection bucket before cleaning her car off.

"Get it extra clean for me baby!" She shouted with a wide smile.

While Erik cleaned, a Zeta walked over offering free water and the option to park and grab some cookout food or a mixed drink pouch. Erik grabbed the hose when he was finished and the woman rolled up her windows so he could rinse it down. When he was done, his shorts were soaked. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his big boy made an appearance. The woman drove off and Erik motioned for the next car. Erik spotted Isaiah running game so he whistled, Isaiah turning in his direction.

"Static, you better get to work boy! making your brothers look bad! us Nupe's are known for being clean!" A Kappa brother teased.

"Nah, G, we ain't letting a dirty dawg show us up! Poet! you better get yah boy in line! making ya'll look worse than he already did!"

Erik shot a pointed look at Isaiah. Isaiah walked over and got back to work, motioning for an all-black, 2019 Ford Focus to pull forward. Meanwhile, Erik took a water break and after drinking it all down, he used the hose on mist to spray his body. He could feel eyes on him and when he looked up, Jeanette was eye-fucking him while sucking on a Bomb Pop, the cherry lime of the popsicle dripping to her chest from her sloppy slurping. She made her way over and Erik shot a glance at Andrea.

"This is the first time in weeks that I've been this close to you," Jeanette licked her popsicle, "You avoiding me again?"

Erik threw a towel over his shoulder and shut his eyes before opening them to stare down at Jeanette.

"You're not still upset about that kiss are you?"

"I am. Because you don't know when to chill the fuck out." Erik argued.

He walked around her and Jeanette marched right after him. He waved his hand for a car to pull forward and they rolled their window down. The driver handed Erik some money and he placed it in his pocket before cleaning the car off.

"You act like what we had wasn't real! you said so yourself that we could make it work again. Or did you forget?!"

Erik agressively scrubbed the car, his annoyance towards Jeanette growing, "I never said that shit to you. You wasn't thinking about none of that with that nigga dick in your mouth." Erik quipped.

Jeanette and the driver had to look at Erik in disbelief that he even said that. Jeanette was so shocked that she dropped her popsicle. Erik continued cleaning the car like he didn’t just say what he said.

“Fuck you! I wasn’t going to wait around, Erik! Don’t act like you weren’t doing whatever it was you were doing!”

“I wasn’t though,” Erik glanced back at her over his sweaty shoulder, “Look, I’m not doing this with you. Why don’t you pitch in and help.”

Jeanette was fuming. She stomped away, grabbing the water hose out of a soro’s hand, turning it on the highest pressure before spraying Erik in his back. He flinched and dropped the bucket and sponge. He turned to her with rage. That was painful, especially since he hadn’t expected it.

“THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, GIRL!”

Erik really wanted to call her a bitch but he had to bite his tongue. She laughed right alongside her AKA sisters. Others snickered and laughed as well, not fully comprehending that Erik was seriously angry.

“What? You deserved it, Erik!” Jeanette yelled.

Erik grabbed an extra hose and sprayed the car down. He shook his head and flared his nostrils, heart thumping in his chest. When he finished, he walked over to Andrea and the other Deltas. She met him halfway and he turned for her to examine his back. The water hoses were attached to a fire hydrant. She could see that the middle of his back was bright red and irritated. James strolled over to look as well.

“You good, E?” James questioned.

“Jeanette is doing too fucking much. Look at her.”

Three pairs of eyes fell on Jeanette twerking on the hood of some guys car. It worked, because he gave her fifty dollars instead of twenty.

“I’ll be aight. She just needs to stay far the fuck away from me.” Erik spoke angrily.

“I’m here if you need me,” Andrea said.

Erik walked away and picked up his sponge and bucket. After refilling the bucket, he made his way back over. He kept cutting his eyes at Jeanette. He wanted his lick back for that. So much for ignoring her. Taking the bucket, while her back was turned, Erik dumped it over her head. She screeched and flailed her arms.

“OH MY GOD!!!! MY HAIR!!!!!”

Jeanette snatched her hat off and rubbed soap from her face. She turned a rageful gaze towards Erik and he laughed in her face. Laughter echoed across the lot.

“You started it!”

“Awww! Now you’re mad!”

“Get her ass, Poet!”

She pushed Erik and stormed past him to grab a towel. He made a crybaby motion with his hands as if he were rubbing his eyes. Some of her AKA sisters rushed to her aid and they didn’t hesitate to shoot Erik dirty looks. That’ll teach her ass not to fuck with him again. Erik refilled his bucket with a smirk on his face as he watched Jeanette drying her weave. She noticed and gave him the finger. Erik returned the gesture.

Some time went by, everyone working hard and raising money. The next car, Isaiah motioned to pull in and when they did, he recognized them and spoke their name. Erik heard and his head whipped in that direction so fast he could have twisted his neck. His once sour mood was no replaced with anticipation.

“Valencia, what’s up girl?”

Valencia was sitting in the passenger side of Brielle’s white 2019 Nissan Altima. Skai and Cindy were in the backseat. Brielle was wearing a yellow tube dress and her braids down and flipped to the side. She accessorized with octagon-shaped silver hoops and Y2K shades with butterflies.

“Hello,” She gave him a wave before passing him a twenty, “This is my donation.”

Brielle, Skai, and Cindy handed over their money.

“You ladies wanna stick around for some good vibes? Just pull in after I’m done.” Isaiah said.

“Will do. It looks lit out here,” Brielle looked around with a smile.

Isaiah couldn’t stop staring at Valencia. She glanced up at him with a straight face.

“Aren’t you gonna clean the car?” She questioned.

“Yeah but I’m tryna see what’s up—”

“STATIC!”

All four ladies and Isaiah followed their gaze towards the source of the shouting. Erik walked over with his usual gait. He paused in front of Isaiah and pointed to the car behind them.

“Get yo’ ass back there and clean that Jeep pulling in.” Erik ordered.

Isaiah kissed his teeth but before he walked away, he grabbed Valencia’s hand that was dangling out of the car window, kissing it before giving it an affectionate squeeze. She jerked her hand away, staring at him with her nose turned up.

“I love it when you play hard to get, girl!”

Erik put the sponge in the bucket and placed his hand on the hood of the car, leaning in towards the open window to peek inside. He still had his shades on, so Valencia was staring at her reflection through the lenses. She looked visibly tense, toying with her hair and jerking her leg.

“How’s everything, ladies?”

“They all said ‘good’ in unison, all except for Valencia. Erik caught Brielle trying to be discreet with bumping Valencia with her arm. Valencia shifted in her seat.

“…I’m doing great, you?”

This was the most she’d said to him in a month. He parted his lips but no words came out. Erik furrowed his brows and cleared his throat.

“I’m good. Been busy…”

He tapped the hood of the car. If only she were alone.

“…Are you gonna clean us off?” Brielle asked.

The awkward tension between them was palpable.

“Yeah, I gotchu, arms in and roll up the windows tight.”

They did as they were told, Valencia and Erik staring each other down. He went to work sudsing up the sponge and then he started with the back of the car first. He then moved onto the hood of the car, taking his time to get every spot. He walked around to the drivers side to clean the front and back doors and windows, and then he made his way around to the passenger side. Erik scrubbed the back down, then he was right at Valencia’s window again.

She focused her eyes forward while he cleaned but when he made it to the front window, Erik watched as her eyes scanned his body. He titled his head towards her, licked his lips, and flashed her a grin. She quickly averted her gaze to her lap and Brielle’s eyebrows disappeared behind her curly ginger bag. Skai and Cindy were giggling in the backseat. Erik retrieved the hose and started spraying the car down. He stood at the front of the car again, smirking at her through the window.

Erik walked over to Valencia’s side when he finished and Brielle eagerly rolled the window down. Valencia shot her a look and then she turned her attention to Erik who was leaning into the window. Valencia inhaled slowly and then exhaled a shaky breath. Removing his sunglasses, Erik kept his gaze pointed at Valencia. Now, she had no other choice but to look him directly in the eyes.

“…Got you ladies all cleaned up. Why don’t ya’ll stick around for a while? Grab some food, dance a little…”

He was really asking Valencia.

“Oh, we will. Right V?” Skai said.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Brielle replied, fighting the urge to laugh.

Erik waited anxiously for her to speak.

“…sure. We’ll hang out for a little while.” Valencia said.

“Bet. Say less…”

Erik stood at his full height, his lower half in her face. He slowly backed away and Brielle pulled off.

——————

They’d just finished the last few cars and by then the lot was filled with people having a good time. Erik slipped on a cropped golden yellow muscle tee that had Omega Psi Phi printed on the front in purple letters and the fraternity logo in the center. He sipped from a Blue Raspberry drink pouch that had some Hipnotic in it. He took pictures with his bruh’s and other fraternity buddies as well as the ladies

Valencia was leaning against the side of Brielle’s car, drinking a watermelon mixed drink. Erik kept looking over at her, wanting to approach her badly. Jeanette hadn’t bothered him since the hose incident and he was grateful. They were too busy putting on a performance, doing an AKA stroll to entertain people. Like clock work, Isaiah approached Valencia to talk to her and Erik noticed that he had one too many drinks. He kept grabbing Valencia’s arm and Erik could tell that she wasn’t asking for any of that attention.

Erik jogged over and yoked Isaiah up by the collar of his T-shirt. Valencia looked up at Erik with wide eyes. Others started paying attention as well.

“The fuck you doin’, Static?” Erik barked out.

“We were just talking, right, Valencia?”

Isaiah looked at her expectantly. She cut her eyes at him to Erik and then Valencia shoves him out of her way before storming off. Erik let go of Isaiah and pushed him back, causing him to stumble.

“Yo, what the fuck is your problem, Erik?!” Isaiah questioned with frustration.

“You don’t know what no means, nigga? And how much have you been drinking?”

“I only had two drinks, relax. You got a thing for Valencia or something? Every time I try and talk to her, here you come cock-blocking.” Isaiah fired back.

A few Bruhz came over to see what was going on.

“All good?”

“It’s cool. Poet can’t stand it when it ain’t all about him, that’s all,” Isaiah jokes.

Erik cut his eyes at Isaiah, one of their brothers clapping him on the shoulder to calm him down. He tried to get Erik riled up with some barking and goofing around and Erik gave in. The party continued and then the sky turned a deep orange. Erik could see Valencia walking towards a trash can to throw away her plate. It was now or never. Erik walked over towards her with his hands in his pockets and before she could walk away, he took a hold of her hand and she looked up at him.

“Valencia, can we talk? Please?”

“No, Erik—”

“I’m sorry, okay? Look,” Erik let go of her hand, “I know that I fucked up. I should have stopped her from jumping on me like that. The kiss—you ran away so fast you didn’t see how pissed I was that she kissed me. I don’t want her…I wasn’t planning on rekindling anything with Jeanette…”

Valencia looked down at her feet. She kicked at the ground with her arms folded. She finally looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and feel those lips again. She looked so damn sexy in that dress.

“Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to come thru at Poetry Live tonight? I’m gonna recite some new shit and…I’d really like to see you there. Will you think about it?”

Erik tilted his head down at her. She pondered, her cafe noir eyes looking heavenward. Valencia exhaled, staring up at Erik through her lashes. He waited with bated breath. She parted her full lips to speak.

“I’ll be there.”

Erik cracked a dimpled smile. Valencia gave him a small smile and then a quick once-over before walking away. Erik made it back to his group and he spotted Valencia and her friends leaving. It was definitely a step into the right direction. Erik was happy about that. Andrea made her way over to him with a knowing smile.

“I saw that, Daka. So, is she coming?”

“She’ll be there. I’m a lil’ nervous. Not gonna lie.”

Andrea laughed, “you got this!”

“I just wanna make it right. I want us to get back to how things were, you know? I was just getting to know her in so many ways…”

Erik cut his eyes at Andrea and she stared at him with her mouth agape.

“I BET,” Andrea rolls her eyes.

After another hour, they started to shut things down and it took them another hour to make sure everything was cleaned up before heading out. Erik was exhausted with no time to get rest since he had to get ready for tonight. He made it back to his RA dorm with a sweaty body and tired limbs. Dropping his gym bag onto the floor, he grabbed his towel, rag, soap, and a fresh pair of briefs with a pair of basketball shorts.

In the showers, he cleaned himself off good, thinking about the night to come. Valencia was going to be there, and he hoped that she would give him a second chance. After rinsing off the second round of soap, Erik pat dried his skin and before he exited the shower, he slipped on his briefs and shorts. Towel over his shoulder, he exited the bathroom and made his way down the hall to his room which was a short distance away.

Back inside, he shut his door and turned on some music to get ready to. He took off his shorts and opened his closet to grab an outfit he planned to wear.

Ping.

Erik paused.

That sound could only be from one thing. He took long strides to his lap top on his desk and pulled out the chair. He touched the mouse pad to wake his lap top screen up and then he went straight for Tumblr. There, he clicked on his message thread and his eyes scanned back and forth, reading the words.

ebonygoddess1990s: I know it’s been a while. I’ve gone an entire month not speaking to him. Today I spoke to him for the first time and it reminded me of what happened at that D9 party. He asked me to come to Poetry Live tonight and I’m a little nervous. A part of me wants to forgive him, but the other part of me has trust issues. What should I do?

Erik for the first time didn’t know what to say. He didn’t feel right messaging her. He could simply persuade her into forgiving him, but then that would be manipulation. He slowly closed his laptop and stood up from his seat at the desk.

He was going to make it right as authentically as possible.

————

“How do I look?”

“Girl…you look damn good.”

Brielle snapped her fingers while Valencia did a turn. She was all dressed up herself in a denim dress with platform chunky brown heels and her big, curly ginger hair styled in two Afro puffs.

“He’s gonna love it.” Brielle said.

“…this isn’t for him, it’s for me.”

Brielle rolls her eyes at the ceiling, “Right. Sure.”

They grab their bags and then head out of the dorm room. Skai was going to drive tonight. Cindy and her were waiting in the car. They left the dorms and headed towards the parking lot. There, they spotted Skai and she was talking to Dior. Valencia’s footsteps slowed down and she instantly grew defensive. Brielle looked at her with an equally angry expression.

“Let me go, I’ll see you there…”

Dior looked at Valencia.

“Brielle,” She touched her arm, “Valencia—”

Valencia smacked her hand away. Hard. Dior raised up on her and Brielle leaped between them.

“Let’s get going! Right, Val?” Brielle pleaded.

Brielle looked over at Skai for help. Skai walked towards them and grabbed Dior by the arm.

“Yeah, let me go before I drag this bitch all over the parking lot!” Valencia shouted after Dior.

Dior yanked her arm out of Skai’s grip.

“Awww still mad your crush doesn’t want you?”

“Dior!” Skai yelled, “Chill out!”

Dior put her hands up, “I’m chill. She’s the one that put her fucking hands on me.”

“I should have been put my hands on you!!!!” Valencia screamed.

“THEN WHAT’S GOOD?!” Dior screamed back.

“Just go, Dior,” Skai moved her towards her car.

“I’m going. Just as long as she stays over there.”

Dior backed away to her car with a big grin on her face. There was a girl in passenger seat, laughing at the entire thing. Dior got in her car and drove off. Valencia took meditating breaths while Brielle tried to calm her down.

“She pulled up to my car to talk, Valencia. I wasn’t trying to start trouble,” Skai spoke to her defense.

Brielle ignored Skai. She loved her friend but if she was going to keep being friends with Skai knowing that she didn’t like Valencia and was probably talking shit about her, she had to cut her off too. They all got back into the car, Cindy rubbing Valencia’s shoulder.

She just wanted to have a good night. Megan Thee Stallion Cognac Queen came one and Valencia started rapping the lyrics. She wasn’t going to let that dumb bitch ruin her night.

Her makeup looked good, her outfit is sexy, she felt the hottest she’s ever felt. She felt great. She rolled her window down and as the air whipped across her face, she couldn’t get Erik off of her mind. Valencia couldn’t help but smile to herself. He looked extra scrumptious today. The effort he took into winning her back made her feel good. She wanted him to know that she could easily forget about him and move on.

Erik still tried. This man could have any woman on campus, hell, even his crazy ex girlfriend, and yet he didn’t want her or anyone else but Valencia. She couldn’t control the butterflies. It’s been a month too long. She could only hope that tonight would go right.

“We’re here.”

It was a huge turnout. Brielle parked and they all stepped out. From the outside looking in, Poetry Live was packed like sardines.

“Please tell me Russ saved a table for us,” Cindy said.

“I hope so, because I am not standing.” Brielle said.

They were carded at the door and when they were in the clear, all four of them walked inside. Cindy took the lead, searching the crowded room until she pointed towards a round table with a great view of the stage. They squeezed through people dancing and having a good time with drinks in their hands. Cindy wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s shoulders and went in for a kiss. Valencia sat her bag on the table and looked around. As she scanned the room, her eyes fell on Erik, sitting at a table with Andrea, James, and a few of their friends.

Valencia’s eyes scanned his body from head to toe. He had a fresh retwist and he was dressed nice with a layered gold chains hanging from his neck and black diamond earrings in his ears. He didn’t have his glasses on tonight, so Valencia could see his onyx eyes more clearly beneath the lights. She shifted in her seat and fiddled with the strap of her bag when he finally looked over at her. They locked eyes and then a slow smirk crept up his lips. She felt hot all over. He waved to her and Valencia returned the gesture. He checked her out from across the room and with an appreciative nod, he mouthed ‘you look amazing’.

Valencia blushes and mouthed ‘thank you’ in response. She reluctantly pulled her gaze away and released a shaky breath. He always makes her so flustered.

“Everyone looks so nice tonight like it’s a special occasion!” Brielle said with a sonorous tone.

“I know! We need drinks!” Cindy declared ecstatically.

“I second that,” Valencia fanned herself.

Their waiter returned and they put their orders in. Valencia looked around the room again and in a booth seat, Jeanette and Dior sat surrounded by their AKA sisters. They were dancing and causing a scene since they needed to be the center of attention at all times.

“SKEE-WEE!!! SKEE-WEE!!!!”

A few Zetas threw up kitty hand signs, Deltas threw up triangles, Sigmas threw up three fingers with their thumb and ring finger down.

Their drinks came and Valencia automatically took sips of her Long Island Iced Tea. She couldn’t stop herself from looking over at Erik’s table again and he was stomping around like a proud Que with his Bruhz Valencia giggled at Erik’s mug. He settled back in his seat and took a sip of his drink.

After some time, the lights in the room went dim and a spot light hit the stage. It was a spotlight with a purple hue. Valencia was nursing her second drink, taking careful sips so she wouldn’t get drunk too fast. She was too busy turning up with her friends to notice that Erik himself took the stage. He walked up to the mic apprehensively, grabbing the pole with one hand while adjusting the mic with his other. The sound of the mic caused everyone to turn their attention towards him.

Valencia looked at him and her smile disappeared from her face and in its place was a nervous look. Erik’s presence on that stage commanded the room to silence. The only sound being that of Usher Dot Com instrumental. Valencia scanned the room, and then her eyes looked towards the stage again.

“Hello…hello…hello. I’m sure most of you know me but I’m gonna introduce myself anyway. My name is Erik. My friends call me E, Daka—that’s short for my middle name, N’Jadaka, and Poet. Uhm,” he placed his hands in his pockets, “It’s been years since I’ve been on this stage. Tonight I have some new shit,” Erik chuckles nervously, taking one hand out of his pocket to run over his locs, “This is for you, Valencia.”

Valencia’s eyes went round like saucers. Her eyebrows shot up as she looked around the table at her friends, all of which were staring back at her with big goofy smiles. One by one, they each pulled a rose from beneath the table and handed it to her. Valencia clutched her chest, the roses placed in front of her on the table rendering her speechless. Others stood from their tables and walked over, handing her red roses painted with glitter.

“W—What?” She accepted another rose, “I can’t believe…”

After the last person, Andrea, handed her a rose. Valencia had a full bouquet in her hand. She wanted to cry. This was the most beautiful thing a guy has ever done for her. And it wasn’t over. She looked up at Erik with glossy eyes. He smirked at her and gave her a wink.

Valencia…

I'm sorry for what I've done

I'm sorry for who I've been

Sorry for where its gone

So sorry to lose a friend

I’m sorry I kiss your plump lips in my sleep

So sorry I can’t get you off my mind

As I lose myself and find myself

I’m sorry if I wonder do I ever cross your mind

So hypnotizing…

Your soft voice and bashfully beautiful gaze

I’m sorry we’re apart

I’m not sorry I’m falling for you though

Forgive me if I can’t help that I want you

Forgive me…

If I stumble and fall.

Too clumsy…and my words do not form as I wish

So let me kiss you and let my lips paint for you

All that I feel in my heart.

Let my hands touch again…and my mouth again…

Erik paused. The suspense of his words blanketing the room. Valencia drew her bottom lip into her mouth. She could never…would never forget how his mouth felt on her pussy. Saying that on stage in front of everyone…

Every rose I gave to you

I hope brings a smile to you face

Inside each rose is a piece of my soul

So Valencia

I want your trust more than anything

Baby girl

It was a bad decision

And now I want you here

So please take me back

'Cause I need you right now

Vulnerable words from your Poet…

Erik backed away from the mic, and instead of snaps, everyone clapped. There was a standing ovation. Erik exited the stage and walked over to Valencia. She stood up and tears rolled down her cheeks. She opened her arms and Erik pulled her in for a tight hug. He pulled away and Valencia surprised with a kiss to the cheek. It didn’t matter if it was the lips or the cheek, he was happy as hell.

“This is so much—Erik, thank you,” Valencia blotched her eyes dry.

“Anything to put a smile on your face again,” Erik said.

————

Valencia returned to her dorm room with a smile and her bouquet of roses pressed against her chest tightly. That was the sweetest most sincere thing any guy has ever done for her. She liked Erik even more. Brielle decided to stay with Skai for the night and Valencia was grateful because she needed to process this alone. The fact that her friends even knew what was going to happen all this time and they didn’t give her a hint amazed her.

Valencia sat on her bed to take off her shoes. As she did, she looked at the selfies she took with Erik before she left. Her phone vibrated and she noticed it was a text from Erik. She unblocked him on the ride over. Valencia read his text and she instantly smiled.

Erik: care for a night swim?

Valencia knew that he would be texting her. He whispered to her that he planned to send her a text with a surprise later. So, he wanted to go swimming? Valencia smiled at her phone as she texted a reply.

Valencia: absolutely ☺️

Erik: Cool. I’ll meet you there. Bring a change of clothes 😈

Valencia shot up from bed and headed towards her closet. She opened a drawer that stored all of her bikinis and found an orange one. A pink body con, a thong, sandals, and a few pieces of jewelry went into a bag. She quickly undressed and put the bikini on with Erik’s hoodie on top. She slipped on a pair of slides and grabbed her bag, phone, and keys. She made her way over to the pool and when she got there, Erik was nowhere to be found. She shot him a quick text message outside of the entrance to the pool.

Valencia: Where are you?

Erik: One second

The door opened and Erik was dressed in a pair of blue swim shorts that hugged his thighs. He was shirtless and still rocking the gold chains. His locs were in his face, almost long enough to cover his eyes. He opened the door further and Valencia slipped inside. The luminescent swimming pool looked calm and lonesome. The blue hue created the same glow around them. The tiny ripples created a specular reflection across their bodies as they dress closer.

Placing her bag down, Valencia took off the hoodie and sat it on a bench. She stepped out of her slides and walked over towards Erik. His eyes roamed her body, and then he licked his lips. Valencia sat down on the edge of the pool and Erik joined her. Their feet slipped into the water and it felt warm. She turned to look at him before timidly avoiding his gaze to stare down at the water. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of her.

“That was beautiful, Erik.” Her voice echoed as she spoke.

“Thank you. It wasn’t my best but…It was definitely my most vulnerable.” Erik said.

“Well, I thought it was heartfelt and sweet. How the hell did you get everyone to go along with it?”

Erik laughs, “The car wash? I pretty much went around and asked every one if they wanted to participate. The roses were planted there beneath the tables.”

“Very clever,” Valencia giggles.

“I knew you weren’t gonna let me off the hook that easily, and for that…I thank you.”

Valencia looked up at him through her lashes.

“…I’m happy we can start off where we left off.” Erik said.

“Me too…I did miss you…I just….I have major trust issues.”

Erik shrugged, “I get it. You ain’t gotta explain that to me.”

Valencia tucked her chin and smiled.

“The water looks good,” Valencia stood up, “I’m getting in. Are you coming?”

“Yeah.”

She stepped into the pool from the ladder and backstroked towards the deep end. Erik swam over towards her, water splashing on Valencia. She giggled, splashing Erik back even though it wasn’t intentional that he got water in her face. Back and forth they played water tag.

“Okay! Stop!” Valencia shielded her face, “Truce!”

“You givin’ up that easily, girl?” Erik teases.

“Yes, I am. You’re stronger.” Valencia said.

“Am I?”

Erik swam over and picked Valencia up. She squealed before Erik tossed her playfully, Valencia going under. She reappeared, smoothing her braids from her face. Erik laughed at her attempt to glare at him. It was cute. They circled each other, staring each other down. Valencia broke the eye contact first. Erik inched closer. They paddled their arms and propelled their legs to stay afloat. Erik looked so delicious. Valencia couldn’t help but to reach up and smooth his locs back from his eyes.

“…You’re so handsome,” Valencia shyly looked at him.

“And you’re so beautiful.” Erik replied.

The sound of his voice bouncing off of the walls shot straight to her pussy.

“I want to kiss you…” Erik whispered.

Valencia turned away from Erik. He watched her go under, swimming away from him. Erik followed and took in a breath before going beneath the water. He swam, following her until she turned his way, still under water. She broke the surface and Erik was right there, centimeters away from her face. They stared into each other’s eyes and then Valencia’s back hit the edge of the pool. Erik trapped her there. Water dripped from his hair and made his lashes look wet and curled.

“…Can I kiss you?”

Valencia looked from his lips to his eyes. She slowly nodded her head and Erik closed the space between them, his lips crashing into hers desperately. He yearned for her lips. Erik grunted against her lips. Valencia opened up and Erik swiped his tongue across her teeth. Valencia draped her arms over his shoulders and Erik gripped the edge of the pool harder. His chest and crotch were pressed snuggly against Valencia’s body.

Their heads swiveled from left to right, tongues dancing, their lips moved together in a sloppy manner. It was hot, sexy, steamy, and passionate all at the same time. Valencia wrapped her thighs around Erik and he took that opportunity to pick her up. They moved towards the center of the pool and after sucking each other’s faces off for minutes, Erik came up for air. That didn’t stop him from kissing her. His lips were on her neck now.

“Mmmm,” Valencia moaned.

His lips kissed the tops of her breasts and between them. He looked her in the eyes while doing it. She knew what he wanted. Valencia slowly grabs one of Erik’s large hands and guides it to her bikini strings. He didn’t take his eyes off of hers as his fingers pulled, the top falling from her chest. Erik’s eyes dropped down to admire them. B-cup, perky, with perfect nipples and areolas. Deep brown and tasty.

“Damn, baby,” Erik whispered, “Fucking beautiful…”

His lips were on hers again and then he broke the kiss, lifting her up more so that her breasts were in his face practically. Staring up at her, Erik wrapped his thick lips around her left nipple and started sucking. That sensation was a tickle that went straight to her pussy. Her clit jumped, her inner thighs gripped him tighter, and her breathing became uneven.

Erik took his time sucking each nipple. They were so stiff and begging for attention. The sensation of his warm mouth and soft lips did that. She couldn’t watch him doing it anymore, it was too much. She instead moaned towards the ceiling with her eyes shut. Now, his tongue flicked her nipples. Valencia looked down with her beautiful mouth parted, tiny breaths of pleasure from between her lips. She loved that he took attention to her breasts. Her ex would suck a nipple for only ten seconds. Isaiah didn’t even care to do it.

Another box checked off her list.

“Erik…”

He lightly nibbled with his teeth on the tips of her nipples. She gripped his shoulders tightly. He dragged his tongue and lips all over her areolas like a starved man. Valencia couldn’t take it anymore. She tried to move her chest away from Erik’s mouth but he wouldn’t stop. Her body tensed up and she started to panic. What the hell was happening?

“Unh…Erik…uh—uh—uhhhhh—”

Her body trembles, as if the water ran cold. He pressed his face between her breasts and exhaled. Did she just experience an orgasm from nipple play? A wetness that didn’t come from the water made her pussy hot and sticky. Erik looked up at her with a smirk and Valencia couldn’t help but giggle.

“That was intense and out of my control.” she spoke breathlessly.

“Didn’t I tell you I can be your first of many things, beautiful?”

“Yes,” Valencia bites her lip. “Getting freaky in a pool is definitely something I’ve never done.”

“Hmm,” Erik brought her down so that they were face to face, “Getting your pussy ate pool side sounds amazing right now, don’t you think?”

Erik’s hand came down to sit between Valencia’s legs. He cupped her pussy in his hand over her bikini bottoms and slowly rubbed up and down. His thick digits applied pressure to her clit and he could feel her piercing. Valencia closed her eyes and parted her lips.

“Nah…look at me…”

She took her time opening her eyes. When she did, she was staring into Erik’s eyes.

“I still have those panties…”

She shuddered. Yes, her used thong from a month ago.

“They still smell amazing by the way.”

A sly smirk painted his thick lips. She looked away. She couldn’t believe this man still had them! That was the nastiest thing and she loved it.

“…what do you do with them?” Valencia asked with a small voice.

“Well…I sit them on my face and I just…beat my dick whenever I think about you…”

Her face grew hot and she shifted in his embrace but Erik made sure she didn’t move. His hand rubbing up and down felt so good. Valencia started circling her hips while his hand rubbed. He chuckled at her and that Que tongue teased her.

“I guess you can say I’m obsessed. I need a new pair to add to my collection…”

“What else are you obsessed with…sexually?”

Valencia had to chew on her bottom lip to control the tremors. He started rubbing her clit in a circle with his finger tips.

“I have fetishes and kinks…bondage…voyeurism…exhibitionism…toe-sucking…that’s just to name a few.”

Valencia is familiar with BDSM but she’d never experienced any of it. He has a foot fetish and that’s something she always found interesting. She’s very ticklish, so she hoped Erik wouldn’t do that to her. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“How about you?”

Valencia blinked away from him, “Uhm…well I do have some kinks for some things—I’ve never tried—it’s not as hot as yours though.”

Erik cocked his head. They floated towards the edge of the pool again and Erik sat her down. He stood between her legs and looked up at her eagerly.

“You can still tell me,” Erik said with a reassuring voice.

“…okay…I consider myself to be a size queen.”

Erik lifted a single brow.

“Do you know what that means—”

“I do. You prefer big dicks. Bigger than average dicks.”

It was the way he said that. Valencia couldn’t look him in the eye after that. Erik laughs.

“Sexual partners with bigger dicks…coming from you, that’s…not what I expected.”

“What did you expect then?”

“DD/LG. Sex talk…you know size queens take dick, right?”

Erik emphasized dick strongly.

“I know,” Valencia looked away shyly.

“Aight,” Erik smiled playfully at her, “What else?”

“…I feel like I have an oral fixation…”

“Me too. I definitely do,” Erik chuckled.

He reached up to stroke between her legs. She shut her thighs and trapped his hand there.

“Spread your legs, Valencia…”

She did as she was told.

“Bring your feet up and open wider…”

She leaned back and carefully brought her legs up one-by-one. Her pussy was sitting phat between her legs from that position. Erik got closer, taking his thick fingers to push her panties to the side. What he saw blew his mind. Her wetness had a slimy consistency to it that connected to her bikini bottom. She was ready for some dick and his mouth. He used his thumb to peel back her outer lip and the more he did, the more it leaked.

“Fuck…you should see this…you’re so fucking wet, girl…”

Valencia scooted her hips towards the edge and Erik used his tongue to swipe between her outer lips. Valencia placed a hand on the back of his head. He was slurping and sucking at the same time. Anything to get all of that tasty stuff in his mouth. He flicked his tongue up between her folds and the sensation caused her clit to ache in the best way.

“Yes…mmm…Erik, that feels so good…I missed your mouth…”

That was music to his ears. She could hear him smacking his lips and the sound of his wet tongue.

“Daddy…yes…please don’t stop…make me cum…”

Pushing her thighs back, Erik did just that. He didn’t stop. He sucked that bejeweled clit into his mouth and sucked to his heart’s desire and it tugged on Valencia’s heartstrings. She had his locs in her fist. Her wet braids fell over her face. Her naked chest thrust forward. It was the most erotic thing.

“Oh my gosh!”

Her body spasmed and Erik dipped his tongue into her entrance so he could catch it all. Every drop needed to be on his tongue. Valencia pushed his head away and sat up. Erik shook his locs from his eyes and licked her sticky sweetness from his lips.

“We need to take this shit to my room now…I can’t do what I wanna do to you here…”

Valencia knew she was in trouble. He gave her this look and she just knew.

————

They entered the Omega Psi Phi house and Erik shut the door softly. Hand in hand, they crept up the stairs and when they both made it to the top landing, Erik led Valencia down the hall to his right. Majority of the house was still out for the evening. His room door was the most decorated out of the ones at the end of this hall. He took out his keys from his hoodie pocket and opened his door. Valencia slipped inside first and then Erik came in right behind her before shutting his door and locking it again. The room was cloaked in darkness with a little light from the streetlights outside peeking through the blinds. Erik took her bag from her and she could see his silhouette moving towards a desk.

He flicked on a lamp and adjusted the lighting so that it was dim. A yellow ambiance filled one corner of the room and the area where the bed resided was 80% dark. Valencia thought it was the perfect glow for what was about to go down. Erik proceeded to take his laptop out of his book bag and Valencia made herself comfortable on his bed. It was neatly made and fluffy. Some music played and Valencia figured it was to muffle the noises they were about to make but one thing about her, if it feels good, she can’t keep quiet.

Erik took off his hoodie and T-shirt. He stood in front of her with a bare chest and shorts on. They took a quick rinse after swimming. Valencia removed Erik’s hoodie from her body and her panties. She kicked off her slides and went to shield her body with her legs. Erik walked up to her on his bed and while his eyes looked down at her, he slowly peeled his shorts off. Valencia watched his movements with a steady gaze.

She could see that he was well groomed down there. When his dick bobbed out, she went still with speechlessness. It was thick, long, and veiny with heavy balls to match. Shaft the color of hickory and the tip reminded her of cinnamon. Something you would see in a porno. She’d never seen a dick this big in person. That’s all she had to compare it to. Valencia didn’t even want to venture a guess as to how big he is. Tonight was going to be the night where she explored her size queen fantasies.

“You’re so big…”

Valencia wrapped her small hand around him. Her fingers barely touched. She didn’t want to look scared, but she was. She replaced her shocked expression with a flirty smile. Erik reached down and caressed her chin. She knew what he wanted. She wished she’d practiced for this. She wanted to impress this man badly with skills she didn’t possess. Sure, she could give head, but would he enjoy it?

“Valencia.”

She was knocked out of her daze. Sitting up on her knees, she leaned forward while gently stroking him. Valencia would dart her eyes up at him timidly while his fat dick was in her face. So much dick.

Don’t chicken out, she thought.

“Go on, don’t act all shy, get a taste.”

Valencia let go of his shaft to push her braids back over her shoulders. Erik helped her by taking her braids into his fist loosely.

“Thank you,” She took him into her grasp again.

Fear flashed before her eyes and Erik used his thumb to stroke her chin again.

“C’mon, don’t be scared. Not with lips like that…”

She giggled nervously. Valencia leaned in and flicked her tongue along the tip of his dick like she was testing the waters. Erik’s grunt made her kiss his tip with her juicy lips.

“Stop teasing me and suck this dick.”

Valencia opened her mouth and Erik tugged on her braids so she could look up at him. She shut her eyes while sucking his wide tip into her mouth. That action alone made her jaws sore.

“Open your eyes, Valencia,” Erik tugged on her hair, “What I say?”

He was starting to show his dominance more and more. Valencia blinked up at him, the view from her position a sight for sore eyes. That body and that face with that big dick in her hand was all too much. She sank her lips deeper, and Erik exhaled a longing breath.

“You got a tight ass throat, ma…”

Valencia popped her lips off.

“I’m sorry—”

“Nothing to apologize about, baby. Put that mouth back on daddy’s dick.”

She did as she was told.

“There you go, put some more in there…”

She squeezed her thumb and breathed through her nose. A technique she’d learned about but never really used. She wasn’t a throat goat but she’d never had to challenge herself until she met Erik.

“Good girl…mmm.”

She added more spit to her sucking. There was no way she was going to fit all of him in her mouth. Valencia stroked him like she was grinding pepper with one hand while she sucked whatever she could.

“Look at you, all that being scared and you sucking it just like I like it…nice and slow…lots of spit…such a nasty girl.”

Erik licked his lips at her and his eyes were low. He kept making these grunting noises in his throat. She loved it so much.

“Those lips…feel so good on my dick, baby…”

Erik did something she wasn’t prepared for. He thrust his hips forward a little and more of his dick sank down her throat. Valencia gagged and her body jerked away from the feeling. Spit was hanging from her mouth and she looked up at him with wet eyes.

“Did I tell you to stop sucking?”

“N–no,” Valencia sniffled.

Erik tapped her lips with his dick.

“Open your mouth.”

Panic set in. She opened up and Erik had a hand on the back of her head and one on her throat. He started fucking her mouth slow. Valencia placed a hand on his thigh to try and control him. A knock suddenly came to Erik’s door and not once did he stop.

“Poet! Me and the rest of the guys were going out for drinks. You wanna roll out, dog?”

“Nah! I’m good. I’ll see ya’ll tomorrow!”

Erik bites down on his bottom lip when her lips popped off. He rubbed his dick along her lips, dribbling her lips with his tip before whispering for her to open the fuck up.

“Aight! We’ll catch up!”

When the coast was clear, Erik groaned.

“When I cum don’t you come up off this dick, you hear me?”

“Mhm,” Valencia couldn’t use her mouth at the moment to reply. Only sounds.

She sucked and sucked and her jaws ached but she was determined to make him cum. She was doing so well and Erik was loving it so much. He started moaning and saying her name. She felt in control. With a deep inhale, she took a chance and relaxed the back of her throat, twitching it around his tip.

“Shit, here it comes—”

Valencia sat still with Erik’s dick between her jaws. She could feel him throbbing with his release. He came in her mouth and it was thick and warm. She swallowed quickly, careful not to choke. It was a lot. She wasn’t surprised, with a dick that big and balls that heavy, it was expected. She came up for air and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. Erik twirled one of her nipples while bending over to kiss her lips. Tongue and all.

“You did so good, baby.” Erik whispered against her lips.

“You liked it? I wanted to make it good for you.”

“You made me cum didn’t you? I was tryna hold back but I couldn’t control it. I wonder what that pussy gonna do to me…”

“The same,” Valencia boldly replied.

“Yeah? That pussy gon’ make this dick bust too?”

“Mhm,” She jerked him while chewing on her bottom lip and staring him in his eyes with all the strength she could muster.

“You better hope I don’t bust in you…”

Erik tongues Valencia down again. His words fluttered in her mind. She was on birh control but she’d never let a guy do it. Isaiah drunkenly told her that he wanted to cream pie her, but he was wearing a condom. Erik planned to fuck her raw.

“Come sit on my face.”

Erik climbed into his bed and propped his pillows up. When he was settled, Valencia threw her leg over him and Erik popped her on that bubble booty with a hard slap.

“Turn the other way…just like that…”

She turned her back towards his face while her ass and pussy sat inches away from his mouth.

“Arch that back, girl.” Erik commanded with another smack to her ass.

Valencia did as she was told and Erik spread her cheeks . He didn’t waste time tongue-fucking her wet hole and slurping up her clit. Valencia clawed the sheets and started grinding her pussy along the length of Erik’s tongue. He spit on her pussy and sucked it back up over and over. Her eyes crossed like she was losing consciousness.

“OOH!, Erik, fuck, I’m gonna cum already!”

Erik whacked her across the ass through her release. He was showing a roughness with her that overwhelmed her. Valencia didn’t have time to recover when Erik sat up and positioned her on her back. He loomed over her and his lips pressed firmly against hers. She could feel his thick fingers between her thighs, stroking her pussy before slowly sinking two fingers deep.

“Uh—”

“I gotta make sure I open you up for this dick, girl,” Erik whispered.

His fingers pumped in and out of her. He was knuckle deep and torturing her spot. Valencia turned her face away and Erik attacked her neck. The obscene noises her pussy made was similar to squelching. She felt that from head to toe. Erik’s continuous nasty talk in her ear with a husky voice had her whimpering.

“This my pussy, Valencia?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to fuck you…”

She felt a flutter in her belly from his words. His anxiousness let her know that she was going to take it all over his bed.

“Ima be in that pussy every way I can…you’re so pretty…you have the best pussy, babygirl…My dick is so hard…”

She could feel his stiffness on her inner thigh. Rigidly tapping her.

“I’ve been waiting for this shit…”

“Daddy—”

“You wanna cum? That pussy cumming again?”

“Yes—”

“Tell me whatchu want…open your mouth and tell me. All that shy shit is over wit’ you know what time it is.”

“…can I cum, please, daddy?”

She clawed his back. The more he continued to finger-fuck her, the harder it became to hold it in. She felt a sensation and she was afraid she was going to urinate. It was so intense, Valencia couldn’t fight it.

“Erik, Erik, Erik!”

“Gimme that shit.”

A stream of liquid similar to a fountain stained the sheets. It was too powerful and the more he fingered, the more she did it. She’d never ever squirted before.

“Oh my gosh,” Valencia tried to catch her breath, “I squirted…I’m sorry, I made a mess.”

She shielded her face with her hands in embarrassment. Erik moved her hands away and showed her his messy fingers before sucking on them.

“You can squirt, you can cream, I want all of that shit. Don’t ever be embarrassed about what this body can do. I’m so crazy about you…”

Erik pecked her lips and she could taste herself. He sat up on his knees and spread her thighs. Valencia hitched her breath when he started spanking her pussy with the tip of his dick.

“…A fat puss and a fat dick…you know what time it is, right?”

Valencia nodded her head with a pout of her lips.

“I’ll go nice and steady, okay?”

Erik kissed her inner left thigh before he gripped the base of his dick in one hand, gliding it between her folds before the wide tip of his thick pipe sat at her entrance eagerly. She watched as his chest moved up and down and his eyes focused on his movements. His eyes drifted up her body to rest on her face.

“It’s gonna feel so good…you’ll be begging me not to stop…”

She brought both of her arms up and her hands squeezed the pillow beneath her head. She tried to steady her breathing, but when Erik finally thrust forward, she lost her cool.

“Shit,” she squeezed her eyes shut, “It’s too much…”

The tip popped in and instantly she clenched him. Erik groaned. The snugness around his tip felt so fucking food. He needed more.

“Ima give you more…fuck, Valencia, pussy tight as fuck…”

He had his hands on the back of her thighs and both of them watched as he fed her pussy more fat dick.

“I’m tryna behave but all I wanna do is dig yo’ shit out.”

He gave her this look that told her ‘I’m ready to go berserk’ he would stop to give her a second to adjust and then more filled her up. She threw her head back and moaned. Erik had half of his dick in there.

“Look at me, talk to me…”

He withdrew his hips and Valencia’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open.

“Tell me where I’m at…”

“You’re in my pussyyyyyyy!”

Tears rolled down into her hairline. The sensation was so intense. She couldn’t even describe how wet she was. She felt so full.

“I’m finna’ go harder. You ready?”

Valencia had panick in her eyes. Erik kissed his teeth. He was impatient and with her good pussy wrapped around his dick she better get ready.

“Be a big girl and take it…own it and take it, ma.”

“…okay.”

Erik dropped that dick off in her all the way now and Valencia cried out. He leaned over her body causing her hips to lift from the bed. He put his fist into the mattress and the momentum of his thrusting went faster and faster. She didn’t know what to do.

“Yes,” Erik whispered, “I’m in this pussy now. hmm…”

“Unh—”

It felt so intense and so amazing. Erik sat up so he could look her in the eyes. He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and delivered sharp thrusts while staring her down. She was completely ruined and all he did was fuck her and look at her.

“I c–c–can’t hold it—”

“FUUCK—”

Her orgasm rocked through her body. Erik slipped out and she exhaled a shaky breath.

“Look…”

She sat up on her elbows. His dick was coated in cum and brick hard. Erik looked at her through his locs, a teasing smirk on his face. He was on her again, not even telling her how he wanted her. Instead, he positioned her with her face down and ass up. He fixed her arch, adjusted her legs, and then with two large hands on her ass cheeks, he pointed his tip at her opening and bam! He was back in like he never left.

“Keep that arch. What the fuck did I say?”

“Okay!” Valencia bowed her back, “Do I need to do it more?”

Erik didn’t respond with words, he fixed her himself and then spanked her ass.

“Ouch,” it stung so hard, “daddy that hurts..”

He kissed her cheeks and she whimpered.

“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you listen to what I say. Stay just like that.”

Erik’s dick went in and out. Each time it would go in, her pussy would queef. So much creamy mess. She felt it in her lower belly, it created intense pressure to the bottom of her pussy, her body quaked out of her control. So many different sensations hitting her at once.

“Mhm, you look so good right now…”

Valencia looked back at Erik.

“It’s s–s–so deep….” Valencia stuttered.

“I know, baby, but you’re doing so well, pretty girl…now daddy gotta bust it open some more…”

With just his hips, Erik showed her a good time. When he wanted to play back shots, he didn’t want you running and pushing him away. Her ass ricocheted off his hips and all she could do was grip the sheets and moan so loud it bounced off of the walls. She couldn’t do anything about the intense sensations.

“DADDY! OH MY GOD! ITS SO BIG! ITS SO BIG, DADDY! OH MY GOSH! ERIK! ERIK! ERIK!”

“Don’t push me away,” Erik locked her wrist behind her back as he barked out his command, “FUCK!”

He slowed down and Valencia tried to catch her breath. She didn’t want him to slow down. She wanted more dick. How was it possible to want more when she couldn’t even take it in this position?

“There you go…there you go. You fucking me back? Oh, so now you ain’t scared of this dick?”

Valencia threw it back on him and Erik stood there watching her with unblinking eyes and his mouth hanging open.

“Didn’t I tell you I would have you on this dick? Didn’t I fuckin’ tell you that?” Erik slapped her ass, “You showing out, girl. Fat pussy takin’ it like a real size queen.”

She looked back at him and licked her lips.

“Can you beat it up, daddy?”

Valencia was talking her shit. Erik pounded her pussy out.

“UHHHH SHIT!” She yelled.

Valencia sat up and Erik placed a hand around her neck from the front.

“Right there! Please don’t stop!” She begged.

Pound after pound. Her body seized up.

“You ain’t gotta tell me, baby, I feel that pussy…don’t hold back, give me what I want, wet up this fuckin’ dick!”

“YES!”

Erik slipped out and Valencia fell flat against the bed. She rolled over and stared up at Erik before reaching her arms out. He chuckled, picking her up and then she wrapped her legs around him snuggly.

“You want me to fuck you in the air?”

She nodded her head and bashfully smiled at him.

“I’ve always wanted to be picked up during sex. I wanna see how it feels…”

“I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Erik lined himself up and dropped her down on his dick. He palmed her ass and forced her down on his big dick, bouncing her up and down at a leisurely pace so she could feel it from the tip to the balls. Erik dipped his hips and Valencia had her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!” That’s all she could do. Moan and live in the moment.

Erik pressed his forehead against hers. She took in a sharp breath.

“I’m so close, this pussy gon’ make me cum so hard, fuck, gahdamn, shit, this wet pussy…tight, wet, gushy pussy—”

“I’M CUMMING FOR YOU!” Valencia declared.

“Cum on this fucking dick!”

Valencia came so damn hard. It was an out of body experience. She clung to Erik tightly and he sat on the bed and bounced her in his lap. Her words ran through his mind.

“Daddy! I wanna have your baby!”

“Valencia—”

Erik’s balls tightened and his shaft throbbed and twitched the same time her walls clenched him.

“Ima fucking nut—FUCK—”

He lifted her off of his dick and she was on her knees fast, sucking him clean. Erik sat back on his elbows and his body twitched. Spurt after spurt of his thick cum covered her lips and dripped onto her breasts. She jerked him while sucking on his tip.

“Unh, mmm, huhhhh, uhhhhh, fuckkkk….”

He was too sensitive. He grabbed his dick from her and sat up. Valencia licked her lips and tried to clean herself off. She peeked up at him and gave him a small smile followed by a giggle.

“I can’t believe I said that.”

She laughed it off, trying her best to conceal her embarrassment. She was so caught up in the moment. She covered her face and Erik moved her hands away. He helped her to her feet and sat her in his lap.

“Forget I said that.” She looked down into her lap, “That was amazing…”

Erik tilted her head up and stared into her eyes.

“I don’t want to forget it. And you need to stop feeling so ashamed. Shit, I almost gave you that baby.”

They both laughed. Valencia pressed her face into Erik’s neck.

“…you might experience a lot of emotions. It’s intense…”

“I’m so happy I got to experience it with you.”

Erik kissed Valencia on the forehead.

“Me too, baby girl. And I want more moments with you.”

Erik pulled the sheets back and he laid back against his pillow with Valencia snuggled close to him.

“You wore a nigga out…”

Valencia giggled.

“I could go for round two…”

———

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @bakarisprxncess @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @princessxotwod @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @beautybyfire @abluesforlyssa @xo-goldengirl @mbakuetshurisprincess @4ftwonder @raysunshine78 @sensitivelegend @sourbabynaee @gotbeefbitch-blog @efonteno @akimi-youngblood @badassdoll @shyblackgurl @childishgambinaax @teheeboo @skylahb @gigafaex @readingaddict1290 @circeaphoenix @xsweetdellzx @carewornblackgirl @queengodiva619 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @jamaicanqueenaa

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hey could you write a fem!reader x Spencer reid where reader was kidnapped by an unsub?

liaison!reader

all your belongs were left in your bedroom, phone included. there did appear to be a struggle, a chair was knocked over and your purse was slipped onto the floor with the contents scattered about. there was a dent, almost a punched hole in the wall near the door. specks of blood left behind.

“i- i was supposed to meet her. we- we always leave the office together, but she was staying behind and- and insisted i go home. it’s my fault.” spencer was shaking as he recalled seeing you just last night in your office. the two of you were talking for a while and you told spencer to head home, said you needed to finish some paperwork you forgot earlier.

if he just walked you home- “it’s not your fault.” hotch’s stern voice stopped spencer’s racing thoughts. “reid, i need you to focus. has she mentioned anything within the past week about strange occurrences happening? feelings that she was being watched?” jumping into ssa mode, looking for breadcrumbs on your trail.

spencer closed his eyes and shook his head, fingers twitching at his sides. “no- nothing. but maybe they- they were following our route after work. saw the opportunity when she was alone.” again the thoughts were screaming at him.

hotch just nodded and pulled out his phone, “garcia, i need you to pull up the security footage from last night. i need all angles of y/n, she’s currently missing.”

three days. it’s been seventy two hours since you were taken. spencer tried not thinking of the statistics that came with the chances of surviving a disappearance, but everyone knew they dwindled each second the clock hit another hour.

but there hasn’t been a body reported yet, so your chances were still high. the team is assuming that the unsub is planning to keep you hostage for up until a week at most, so they have four days left.

he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. he didn’t bother leaving the office, just camped out at his desk or in the conference room to lay on the couch as he thought. he wanted to tell you he loves you, that each second you spend together is a new memory he can always look back at clearly and yearn for more.

he can’t say he’ll protect cause that would be a lie now, but he’ll always try his hardest to stop this from happening again. spencer would wrap you tight into his embrace to keep the outside world from ever laying a harmful finger upon you.

“reid,” a call of his last name. he spun in his desk chair to see hotch running from his office. “we found him, now we just gotta get her.” spencer never moved that fast in his life than when him and hotch bolted for the stairs.

“y/n! y/n, it’s reid! y/n!” spencer ran through the houses layout with hotch and swat behind him. he didn’t care about himself in this moment, just finding you alive and breathing was his goal.

“found a basement,” he heard over his inear. he scurried down the stairs just as they bashed the heavy door down. he was about to call your name again when his was called first.

“spence,” a whisper in the dark space. flashlights flickered around the room before landing on you, chained to a brick wall as you sat on a dirty mattress. you were disheveled and bruised, you started to sob when spencer pulled you into his gentle hold.

“i got you. i got you, love.” spoken into your ear as his palm caressed the back of your head. your were a shaking leaf and he held you closer and let his lips press into your temple. “i got you.”

#erin writes spencer #erin’s blurb requests #a 1k special #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x liaison!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[project-sekai-facts]

is it ever mentioned if rui causes property damage when he blows things up at school or if entering kamiyama unauthorized as emu does is trespassing because i want to know who may canonically have a criminal record

As far as we know Rui has never been arrested or charged with anything which means he technically has no criminal record. However he canonically has tresspassed into Phoenix Wonderland (and been chased out, but not caught), and the explosions go down on several counts including property damage, endangering the public, owning the explosives without any sort of license or anything (idk how law works), and probably several others. How he still attends kamiyama is a mystery, let alone how they haven’t called the fucking police on him and just leave the disciplinary committee to deal with him lmao. Tsukasa probably gets in on this due to being an accomplice.

Also Emu canonically trespasses on Kamikou grounds but once again the faculty just leave the disciplinary committee to deal with it.

Nenerobo having concentrated lasers that can hurt people severely also probably breaks several laws, and Nene could probably get in trouble for owning her.

In other words all of wxs has broken the law.

Maybe the police just don’t exist in-universe. That’s cool.

#asks #again. idk anythint about law.

[princesimonsblog]

I need to talk about Charles’s death scene because it's the most beautiful death scene and one of the most beautiful scenes in general that I've ever seen.

It starts with quick flashbacks of what happened previously, Charles defending that kid and then getting himself attacked by his friends because of that. We've already seen all that.

But then it switches to him, alone and shivering, in the attic. We know what is going to happen. We already know he is dying. The light is cold, just like he is.

Then, enters Edwin, holding a lantern, bathing the attic in a warm colour. And Charles can see him. We and Edwin know why, Charles doesn't, yet.

Edwin wanted to bring him the lantern in case it helped, but it's already too late, Charles is dying. So he stays. They talk, Edwin answers Charles's questions, all while Under the Milky Way plays in the background (and what a beautiful song). Charles learns that Edwin is dead and is a ghost and he looks sad for Edwin, but he asks more questions, until he can't anymore.

When Charles doesn't have much energy left, he's not shivering anymore, his body can't even do that anymore. He's too tired to talk. Edwin reads him a story, changing his voice according to the characters.

Charles looks out the window as Edwin's voice fade in the background.

Then, we see him standing near that window, in a tank top, no longer wearing that blanket. At first, we don't see Charles's body, giving us the time to understand what just happened. And then he turns and sees his own body. He just died.

And despite knowing that throughout the whole show, Charles is a ghost, seeing his memory of his death still hurts. It's unfair. He was killed by his friends because he chose to do the right thing. But it's also beautiful, because Edwin was there. Edwin made what would have been a cold and lonely death a warm and friendly one, despite the fact that they were just strangers back then.

Charles then choses to stay with Edwin, and it's the start of a beautiful friendship between the two, a much more beautiful existence then they both ever had when they were alive (or even in death in Edwin's case, when he was in Hell).

This scene never fells to make me cry. It's so sad and beautiful. It makes me feel so deeply for him, a beautiful soul whose life got cut short.

And another reason why I love this scene so much is because it's when Charles and Edwin first met. It's how and why they became friends. This scene wrecks me on so many levels and I'll never shut up about it.

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #dead boy detectives spoilers #spoilers #edwin payne

[pinkiemachine]

BATMAN: GOTHAM FILES - SEASON TWO

OKAY, so this season starts off with a spectacular BANG! Joker makes his debut, causes a ton of mayhem for the Dynamic Duo, but of course, in the end, the heroes save the day. Here’s some sketches of Joker I’ve been working on…

Still not sure if this is what I wanna go with. Like I said, work in progress.

Anyway, what really matters is what happens after Joker gets defeated. He’s thrown into Arkham Asylum, for the Criminally Insane, and the doctors there attempt to treat him. Namely, one Harleen Quinzel. This does not go well. Instead of her being able to bring Joker back to sanity, he manipulates her and gets her to cross over to the insane side, becoming his twisted on-again off-again lover, and they break out of Arkham together.

But this is all happening in the background while the rest of the season goes on. The real highlight of Season 2, aside from revisiting classic villains and meeting new ones, is the arrival of BATGIRL! Now, Barbara Gordon (17) was going to get a law degree after high school, but after seeing what sort of corruption there was in Gotham from her father’s police job, she’d lost faith in the system. Instead, she became inspired by Batman to take matters into her own hands. Batman initially tries to tell her to stop—she’s just going to get herself hurt—but then she manages to make a strong case for herself. She’s smart, she’s been taking self-defence classes since she was three, she knows the criminal justice system, she’s passionate about making a difference, Robin’s allowed to fight crime despite being four years younger than her, and… she’s not going to take no for an answer. Batman begrudgingly agrees to let her help, especially after she saves his life on a mission, but he has one condition: no crime fighting alone. She must always have backup. He’s not about to let the police captain’s—now Commissioner’s—daughter get hurt on his watch. Because he knows who she really is. Because he’s a detective.

So now they’re the fanatic threesome. I should also mention that there is NO Dick X Barbara. He’s 13 now, she’s 17, both going on 14 and 18. He’s like a little brother to her. Moving on.

Some time goes by, more baddies get thrown into Arkham, and then… Bruce meets Catwoman. It happened on a cold night when Bruce was soloing it as Batman. Dick was behind on his homework, Barbara was taking time off to rest, so he was all by himself when he got called in to investigate a series of expert burglaries/murders. He had to admit, she was good at what she did. Barely a trace of her was left behind… but barely was enough. He figured out her next target and then had her captured in one fell swoop. Catwoman. It’s not like she was a brawler or anything, just a cat burglar. It was during their ride in the Batmobile later that they got to talk some and learn about each other. Bruce questioned her about the two other robberies—ones where people died—and Selina pleaded innocent. She never killed people. Then, surprising Batman, she managed to escape from right under his nose. They would meet again, though, when he and Selina teamed up to catch the other burglar who had attempted to frame Selina with murder. The two had formed something of an attachment. Selina found Bruce attractive, and Bruce thought she had some good in her (and was also attractive), and they both found themselves wanting to see each other again some time. Purely for work purposes. Bruce only wanted her to face justice. There was totally NO OTHER reason. *cough cough* I have a post where I talk more about her and her relationship with Bruce.

Moving on, there’s an episode where we briefly head to Star City and meet The Flash, but THEN we get introduced to Ghostmaker. A fellow vigilante from Bruce’s past. His rival… and friend. He had also been one of Ra’s’s top students and they had fought often, but the main difference between them was that Ghostmaker was willing to kill. Bruce wasn’t. They have some funny, witty, exciting times when he comes to visit Gotham, but in the end, Bruce establishes that Gotham is his city. And there will be no killing in his city.

Grande finale sees the return of the Joker, alongside Harley Quinn’s debut!

It’s big, it’s exciting, there’s mystery, there’s crime, there’s shenanigans, and… you know, I haven’t thought this finale through all the way yet… but details… not important… right? It’ll come to me. Eventually.

So that’s season 2 :)

Part 3 👇

Part 1 👇

More of Bruce and Selina 👇

#dc #dc comics #batman #bat family #Bruce wayne #batgirl #Barbara gordon #dick grayson #robin #batman and robin #fandom #head canon #fan fiction #Gotham Files

[bansurii]

Pen Pals

pair: sukuna x afab!reader

content: smut, stalking, threats, slight violence, dubious consent i think ?, profanity, choking, an impossible angle, sukuna is a serial killer but we never touch fully on that, reader is scared a lot, and idk what more is needed but just be careful proceeding MDNI thank you!

line dividers @cafekitsune

“So, what if your charming pen pal turns out to look like Quasimodo?”

“I have his picture! Besides, it’s not like we’ll ever actually meet. He’s serving life.”

Your friend gaped at you, her eyes widening in disbelief. 

The conversation had begun with your usual letter-writing ritual. What had once been a simple hobby had evolved into an infatuation with a man labeled as one of the world's most dangerous criminals. Despite his reputation, his letters had been nothing but kind, making your heart flutter with each new page. His picture revealed a ruggedly handsome man, his body adorned with tattoos that hinted at a dangerous past.

You had told your friend about him almost a year ago. Predictably, she responded with trepidation, urging you to choose a less notorious correspondent. 

“He’s still a person,” you’d argue. “Even the most hated need love too. And what harm could he do if he never knows where I live, let alone what I look like?”

However, his latest request had unsettled you both. He wanted a picture of you, something to remember you by during lonely times. Your friend was livid when you mentioned it.

“You cannot send him a picture! What if he has friends on the outside? I refuse to become a target because of your bad decisions!”

You laughed it off, continuing to write a diplomatic yet affectionate refusal. Your friend, exasperated, finally sighed in defeat.

“Well, enjoy writing to the serial killer. I’m staying at my boyfriend’s place for a while. If he gets out and comes after you, call the police first, then me.”

You reassured her with a laugh, promising to be cautious. She hugged you tightly before leaving. Neither of you noticed the grey car parked across the street, its presence having become so familiar it was easily ignored.

The following evening, a knock at your door startled you. Expecting your friend, you were puzzled to find no one there. Just a box. 

With a mix of excitement and dread, you approached the door. The box bore a note in handwriting you recognized instantly:

*Such a beautiful home. I thought you would enjoy a little gift from the other side…*

Your anxiety surged. You scanned the empty, unnaturally quiet street before retreating inside. The flickering streetlight across from your home seemed dimmer than usual, casting eerie shadows. A rustle in the bushes sent you scurrying back inside, locking the doors and setting the alarm with trembling hands.

The box sat ominously on your coffee table. Despite your curiosity, fear kept you from opening it. Instead, you holed up in your room, hoping sleep would come despite the dread gnawing at you.

In the dead of night, you jolted awake to the sound of metal scraping against metal. Someone was inside your home. 

Determined not to fall into the typical horror trope of investigating, you stayed put. But then you heard it—footsteps, slow and deliberate, ascending the carpeted stairs.

Panic gripped you. Clutching the bat you kept in your closet, you listened as the intruder approached. The door across the hall creaked open, and you steeled yourself for the worst. But then you recognized the sounds—muffled giggles and a familiar voice.

Relief washed over you. Your friend had returned, and apparently brought her boyfriend. You set the bat down, heart still racing, and fell back into bed, the adrenaline finally giving way to exhaustion.

In the morning, you would face the box and the mysteries it held. For now, you allowed yourself to sink into the comfort of your bed, hoping that sleep would bring a respite from the turmoil of the past few days.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your bedroom. Despite the terror of the previous night, you felt a strange sense of calm as you padded downstairs. The box still sat on the coffee table, its presence a reminder of the eerie note and the mystery it held.

Taking a deep breath, you sat on the couch and gingerly lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in a bed of luxurious velvet, was an object that took your breath away. It was a stunningly crafted necklace, the centerpiece a large, gleaming sapphire surrounded by intricate filigree work in white gold. The piece was elegant, expensive, and utterly out of place for something sent from a prison.

You lifted it gently, the gem catching the light and casting tiny rainbows across the room. For a moment, the sheer beauty of the necklace overshadowed your fear. How could something so exquisite come from a man behind bars?

Elated but wary, you turned the necklace over in your hands, inspecting every detail. It was flawless, and the craftsmanship was impeccable. This was no ordinary gift. 

Your mind raced. How did he manage to send something so extravagant? More importantly, how did he know your address? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recalled your friend's words: *“What if he has friends on the outside?”*

The realization hit you hard. He must have outside help. Someone capable of acquiring such a piece and delivering it to your doorstep. Your elation was quickly replaced by a deep sense of unease. 

How long had he known where you lived? You thought back to the grey car that had been parked across the street. Was it connected? Had you been watched?

You set the necklace back in the box, hands trembling. The beauty of the gift now seemed tainted by the sinister implications. Your friend's warnings echoed in your mind: *“I am not going to die because of your bad decisions!”* You couldn’t ignore the danger any longer.

Reaching for your phone, you dialed your friend’s number. She answered on the third ring, her voice groggy with sleep.

“Hey, it’s me. You were right. We need to talk.”

Later that day, your friend arrived, her face a mix of concern and frustration. You showed her the necklace, and she gasped.

“This is... gorgeous. But it’s also terrifying. How did he send this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “And I don’t know how he found my address.”

She paced the room, glancing nervously out the window. “We need to call the police. This is beyond creepy.”

You nodded, knowing she was right. The thrill of your pen pal had turned into something dangerous, something that required more than just caution. As you picked up the phone to dial the authorities, you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you, the sense of being watched. The beautiful necklace now felt like a heavy weight, a symbol of the peril you had unwittingly invited into your life.

As you waited for the police to arrive, you couldn’t help but wonder about the man who had written such kind letters. Was he truly as dangerous as they said, or was there more to the story? Either way, you knew you couldn’t continue the correspondence. The price of your curiosity had become too high, and your safety was worth far more than any thrill or beautiful gift.

A few weeks had passed, and your friend continued to stay with her boyfriend, feeling guilty for leaving you alone but too scared to return. She called you every day, ensuring you were unharmed and feeling as well as could be expected. The police had stationed an officer outside your house during those weeks, but with no further incidents, they eventually recalled the officer. They advised you to call if anything came up, assuring you they would do their best to keep you safe. You had downplayed the threat, omitting any mention of your pen pal. Had they known the full extent, they might have placed you under witness protection.

Unfortunately, the eerie calm was shattered today.

The grey car had returned, and this time, you could make out the driver. He bore a stark resemblance to the picture you had seen of your pen pal, the world’s most dangerous criminal, now sitting outside your home, watching and waiting. But for what? What did he plan to do once you were alone?

You couldn't call out from work again, needing to maintain some semblance of normalcy. Steeling yourself, you put on your best intimidating face and walked to your car, though you felt more like a deer caught in headlights. Ignoring the piercing, watchful eyes of the man was harder than you imagined, but you managed to get into your car and drive away.

You knew it was foolish to drive to work, thinking he might follow you, but if he knew your address, he likely knew where you worked. At least at work, you'd be surrounded by people and security personnel. If he tried anything—which you doubted he would in such a public setting—there would be help nearby.

The day dragged on, dread gnawing at you. Your focus was shattered, and your supervisor almost reprimanded you until they realized how shaken you were. They backed off, giving you space to regain your composure. HR knew something was seriously wrong but couldn’t disclose details to anyone else, offering you a temporary reprieve.

But this day was particularly harrowing, and you barely made it through. As the workday ended, you practically sprinted to your car, seeking the relative safety it offered while there were still people around.

Home was a different story.

You entered, not realizing the door had been unlocked until you were already in the living room. Shock, dread, and fear flooded you as you saw him there, seated on your sofa.

He was casually examining a picture of you with your friend, family, and your old pet. He looked content, as if he belonged there, as if he were truly at home.

Panic surged. You wondered what he could do to you in such close quarters. Thick walls muted sounds from neighboring homes; no one would hear you in time. You felt paralyzed, unsure of what to do if he made a move.

He shifted his position, dropping one leg and crossing the other, all the while holding your gaze. He took in your presence, the real you, not just the image he had studied. You were no longer a picture, but flesh and blood, standing before him.

“Nice to meet you, [Your Name].”

You had never told him your real name, only an alias. Somehow, he had discovered your true identity, just as he had found your address.

“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion. I couldn’t resist, especially after a month of silence from you. I noticed you called the police. I'm quite impressed that you managed to keep my presence in your life a secret.”

You trembled, tears starting to well in your eyes and trickle down your face.

“Ah, don’t cry. I’m not here to harm you. What I have in mind will be much more pleasurable. For both of us.”

His words chilled you to the core. The beauty of the necklace, the allure of his letters, all seemed like a distant dream compared to the present reality. You stood frozen, unable to move or speak, as he smiled at you, his intentions shrouded in menace and mystery.

“I-I…” 

The tears began to slow, your breath evening out as a semblance of calm started to return. He watched you closely, giving you a moment to dry your face and find the words that had eluded you. 

But silence persisted. Your thoughts were in disarray, still grappling with the reality of his sudden presence. He seemed to sense your inner turmoil, knowing you needed time to process the situation. As he approached, his imposing figure loomed over you, each step bringing him closer.

Realizing his intent, you instinctively retreated, but his long strides easily closed the distance. Your back met the cold, unyielding wall, trapping you. You wished you could tear it down, burrow into an indestructible sanctuary, and escape the nightmare your life had become. 

His proximity was overwhelming, a blend of menace and fascination, as you stood frozen, unable to tear your gaze from his. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, a storm of emotions threatening to consume you both.

He continued to close the distance, his presence suffocating yet electrifying. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he drew nearer, until he was mere inches away. He raised his arms, placing his hands on the wall on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. The scent of him, a mix of cologne and something distinctly male, enveloped you.

"Is this what you like?" he asked, his voice a low, tantalizing murmur. His eyes bored into yours, searching for a reaction.

Your breath hitched, the proximity overwhelming your senses. The thrill of fear and an unexpected surge of excitement coursed through you, leaving you dizzy and unable to respond.

"Tell me," he continued, leaning in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is this what you've been waiting for?"

The intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his breath, and the sheer force of his presence made it hard to think, let alone speak. You were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, your mind a chaotic mix of fear, confusion, and a strange, unwelcome attraction. His dominance was intoxicating, leaving you both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

His hands remained on the wall, trapping you, as his eyes continued to hold yours captive. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with unspoken tension. In that moment, you realized you were at his mercy, and the realization sent a shiver down your spine.

The intensity in his gaze didn't waver as he spoke again, his voice a silken whisper. "Why don't you show me around? I'd like to see more of your home."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, feeling compelled to comply. Slowly, he dropped his hands from the wall, giving you a semblance of freedom, though his presence still dominated the space. He gestured for you to lead the way.

With trembling steps, you walked towards the staircase, feeling his eyes on you, a constant reminder of the danger and allure he embodied. The transition from the living room to the upper floor was surreal, the normalcy of your home tainted by his dark presence. Each step up the stairs felt like a journey deeper into an inescapable labyrinth.

You reached the top of the stairs and paused, glancing back at him. His expression was unreadable, but a faint, almost predatory smile played at his lips. You hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door to your bedroom.

"This is my room," you said softly, stepping inside.

He followed, his tall frame filling the doorway before he moved to the center of the room. He looked around, taking in every detail. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt exposed and vulnerable.

"Show me more," he instructed, his voice firm yet oddly gentle.

You led him to the adjoining bathroom, your hands trembling as you opened the door. The bathroom was small but neat, the shower glistening under the overhead light. He inspected it briefly, then turned back to you, his eyes locking onto yours.

"This will do nicely," he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

Your mind raced, the reality of the situation pressing down on you. "What do you want from me?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "For now, just your cooperation. Tonight is just the beginning. After the night's activities, I might need a place to clean up."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. The ambiguity of "activities" left your mind reeling with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. You found yourself nodding, unable to do anything else.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hand lingering on your cheek. "Now, let's make the most of our evening together."

His touch was both reassuring and sinister, a stark reminder of the control he wielded over you. “Take this off…”

You were shocked, appalled even, at such a request from a man you barely knew, despite the intimacy of his letters, the truths he shared, his truth. 

You hesitated, glancing up at him with a mix of trepidation and a spark of rebellion. 

He smirked slightly, as if he had anticipated your resistance. His hand reached out, but you scurried backward, clutching onto what felt like the last vestiges of your dignity. 

He wasn’t taking no for an answer, not from someone who had shown him such genuine kindness, such unguarded affection for the first time in decades.

It dawned on you just how monumental a mistake that kindness had been.

As you stood there, frozen in your shock, he moved swiftly. In an instant, he had closed the distance between you, his strong hands seizing your blouse. The fabric bunched under his grip, the force of his hold sending a jolt through you.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his voice a velvet threat. “You and I both know this was inevitable.”

His words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the palpable tension that seemed to throb between you. His touch, firm and unyielding, ignited a tumult of emotions within you—fear, defiance, and a disturbing undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite name.

“You think you can just come into my life and—” your voice faltered, the defiance wavering under the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t think, I know,” he interrupted, his tone commanding and confident. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours. “You invited me in with every letter, every secret you shared. This connection we have—it’s real. And now, it’s time to face it.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled you closer, the proximity making your heart race. The air between you crackled with an undeniable energy, a mix of danger and an inexplicable pull that left you both terrified and entranced.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” you whispered, desperation creeping into your voice.

“No,” he replied, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the reality of your situation crashing over you. The walls of your sanctuary seemed to close in, the room shrinking as his presence dominated. You were caught in his web, and the more you struggled, the more entangled you became.

With a final, firm tug, he brought you even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s see how this night unfolds,” he murmured, a promise and a threat woven into his words.

In that moment, you realized there was no escape. You were his, for better or worse, and the night was just beginning.

His deft hands worked quickly, yet with a surprising gentleness, as he pulled at your blouse. He was careful, mindful of not tearing buttons or threads, his touch respectful in its slow haste to undress you. Each movement seemed deliberate, as if he were savoring the unveiling of your skin, as if he knew the value of each delicate inch.

Once your clothing lay discarded, you stood before him in just your bralette and panties, exposed yet somehow still veiled in mystery. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the sight of a woman—a vision of beauty that left him breathless. He drank in every curve, every line, every delicate feature, his gaze lingering on each detail as if committing them to memory.

He had seen countless women in his lifetime, but none had captivated him quite like you. There was something about you, something ineffable and intoxicating, that drew him in, leaving him hungry for more.

In that moment, as you stood there before him, vulnerable yet unyielding, he realized just how much he craved you. And he knew, with a certainty that bordered on obsession, that he would stop at nothing to possess you completely.

You knew that begging would likely be futile, so you chose silence instead, allowing your gaze to wander anywhere but at him and what he was doing. But he seemed to revel in being watched, his ego swelling as he unveiled each layer of your clothing.

His touch was insistent as his index finger and thumb grasped your chin, forcing your gaze to remain solely on him. You felt a surge of defiance rise within you, but it was quickly quelled by the intensity of his gaze.

With practiced ease, he removed your bra, followed by your panties. The air between you crackled with tension as he exposed you completely, and you couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

A low groan escaped him, barely audible but unmistakable. It was a sound of longing, of desire unleashed after years of confinement. You realized then just how long it had been since he had seen a living, breathing woman, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You stood there, naked and exposed, feeling his eyes on you like a physical touch. There was something primal in the way he looked at you, as though he were seeing you for the first time, drinking in every curve and contour of your body.

You tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was difficult under his relentless gaze. You felt stripped bare, not just of your clothing but of your defenses, your vulnerabilities laid bare before him.

As he stepped closer, the heat of his body enveloping you, you knew that there was no turning back. The night stretched out before you, a vast unknown filled with equal parts fear and fascination. And as he reached out to pull you closer, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises lay in store.

Your cheek pressed into the cold, quartz floor of your bathroom, every nerve ending alive with sensation. You could feel the weight of him behind you, his eyes drinking in the sight of your rear pressing against his hips. His blazer, shirt, and pants had been discarded, leaving him in just his boxers. Despite the fabric that still separated your bodies, you felt everything from him—his warmth, his strength, his desire.

He had positioned you in a neat arch, your body stretched taut, every muscle straining against the confines of your own submission. His command was clear: remain still, hold that position until he was ready to take you further.

You obeyed, every fiber of your being thrumming with anticipation and fear. The cold floor beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him, and the sensation only heightened your awareness of every touch, every breath that brushed against your skin.

Time seemed to stand still as you waited, your body poised on the precipice of something unknown. You could hear the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat, a counterpoint to the electric tension that hung heavy in the air.

And then, without warning, his hands were on you, tracing the contours of your body with a touch that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers were skilled, mapping every curve and dip with a precision that left you breathless.

You felt him shift behind you, his body moving with a fluid grace that belied the strength coiled beneath his skin. You were afraid of the movement, wanting to look behind you to see what exactly he was doing. And when you felt the tip of him nearing your heat, you redacted the beautiful arch he helped you to create for him and tried to squirm away.

Before you knew it, he had your hair twisted in his hand, pressing your head painfully further against the floor, his breath fanning over your ear. “Move again… and I will crack your skull over this floor and with this treasure I’ll summon something worse than death for you.”

And then, with a suddenness that stole your breath away, he entered you, filling you completely with a single, powerful thrust.

The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of pleasure and pain that threatened to consume you. You bit back a gasp, your body trembling with the effort to remain still as he took you further, deeper into the abyss of his desire. He was much too large to enjoy, your stretched muscles struggling to comprehend the intrusion.

And as he moved within you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge of oblivion, you realized that there was no turning back. You were his, body and soul, caught in the grip of a passion that threatened to consume you both. And in that moment, as he claimed you as his own, you surrendered to the darkness that beckoned, knowing that there was no escape from the depths of his desire.

By the time he was finished, you had orgasmed nearly six times. The final was barely an orgasm, he had edged you and slapped your ass. Breathy laughs finding your ears and somehow you felt yourself able to share his laughter. Your cunt clenched against his twitching length, a feeling he relished in.

Just when you thought he was finished, he pushed your legs apart as far as they would go, nearly into a split, pressing himself further into you, impossibly deeper. Your eyes bulged, hips tightened and your cunt contracted against his deep-seated length once more, your cervix contracting and relaxing in slow bouts against his tip. He lifted your hips, allowing him a new arch, fresh angle, and an even deeper reach. 

You wanted to sob, to beg him to stop, but you also wanted to see what he would do in this position. 

He reached one hand in front, taking your neck into his possession and he pulled back just enough to keep you stationary and choke you slightly at the same time, the angle would do the rest. 

And slowly, he pulled back, allowing just the tip to remain before he thrusts intensely inside of you, pressing against the spot he knew would drive you insane. 

And you cursed him, screaming out all sorts of obscenities and lewd things as he continued to abuse the same spot. His girth squeezed in and out of you with much effort, the tightened feel of your cunt in this position was the one thing that kept him grounded, eyes drawn into a focus on your connected bodies. 

He had cum so many times and this position had him dangerously close to blowing his load again, but he held back just enough. He wanted to cum with you again.

Increasing his speed, he pushed and pulled inside your pussy, watching as it sucked him and pushed him out simultaneously. 

“S’kunaaaa… Fuuuccckkk! Pl-please!”

He knew what you were begging for, screaming out his name for. And he was so close to giving it to you. He had to give you what you wanted since you had been so obedient for him all night. He was nearing his end, bringing his free hand down to your clit and rubbing dangerous circles and odd shapes into it, nearly ritualistic in his methods and just he groaned his approval, you squirted. Full-body quakes erupting, your eyes rolling back into your head. Anyone watching the scene would have thought you were having a seizure. 

But Sukuna knew. And you knew.

It was simply nirvana.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #mdni #sukuna #dead dove do not eat #pen pals #inmates #inmate #inmate pen pals #sukuna is humane and ooc a bit here #i loved it #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #afab!reader #sukuna x afab!reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk ryomen #jjk ryomen sukuna

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Yoichi Isagi's older sibling.

"Who's that?" In the middle of their gathering as this happened to be their first week off at blue lock, Chigiri was the first to notice the presence of other from afar. "Yeah, who's that? They've been looking at us ever since we got here." This time it was Bachira whom have been long aware of the other person presence ever since they have gathered in the cafe. "And they're good looking too." Eita spoke that causes everyone to look at the person they were talking about. It was a person wearing shades and a mask, so how could Eita tell they were good looking? "Who- ah. That's my older sibling." This time it was Isagi who spoke. "Who-?! What?!"

Imagine, as far as you are aware of. Your younger brother Isagi was supposed to be on that so called project, blue lock? Was it? So now that you have seen him in the midst of the crowd in the middle of your agenda. You cannot helo but to observe him in the far distance, was that really your younger brother? Come to think of it, your mother has been urging you to attend some game just a couple of days ago as well as making you come home last time. But you cannot, you are busy nowadays.

Imagine, just a couple of seconds ago you are pretty sure they were all looking at you. And now, they are all in front of you with Isagi at front leading them in tow. "It's really you kiddo." You spoke in awe once he was in front of you. "Are these your friends? That quite... a lot." With all sorts of hair color variety too causing you to sweat drop. "Well... things happened. But! These are my friends from blue lock, and this is my older sibling, Isagi (First name)." "It's a pleasure to meet my younger brother's friend." You chuckle, removing your mask as you throw your arm around Yoichi's shoulder and making a two finger salute towards his friend that have their jaw dropped. "You bastard! You never told us you have an older sibling let alone a them being a model!"

Imagine tagging along with them. Sure you were in the middle of your agenda butttt that could wait, you haven't hangout with your brother for a while now. Besides, it was fun to have them around, youths have their own ways of enjoying and it's really fun. So you tag along, paying things on their behalf as the oldest among them despite those punks being loaded as fuck. Damn, they even have the Mikage heir among them and that young model you have seen before. Still, the point is that you are the oldest, and you have taken a liking on these punks so it was your treat. Not that you played with them though, you just watch them from the side. Looking at your brother fondly with a smile on your lips.

Imagine having a smoke break, a piece of cigarette yet to be lit up on your lips as you lean against the wall on an alley when you heard a footsteps coming towards you. "You smoke?" You shake your head, finger reaching out for the cigarette on your lips before signing your brother to come closer. "Why are you outside? Aren't there more time left at the karaoke?" "Oh, I just went outside for a breather." You nod once again and silence take over the place. Suddenly you really want to smoke but held it in as you open your mouth. "So.. How's blue lock?" It was an unexpected question coming from you, at least for Isagi. You have never taken interest when it comes to such things after all. But now that you asked, his eyes sparkle unknowingly. You on the other hand listened as your brother rant about his life inside the blue lock.

Imagine in the middle of their bowling match, in the midst of fun, you receive a text message from your manager causing you to bid your goodbye to them. "Oh." You look back at them that was watching your departure. "It might be too much to ask but please take a good care of my brother." You bow before standing up straight again. "And Yoichi." Before he knew it, a card was thrown in his face. "Feel free to treat your friend and buy whatever you want, you're at home till the end of the week right? I'll come home tomorrow." You spoke looking at him. "Well then, goodbye." With a silly as salute and a wink, you turn your back at them.

Imagine, Isagi always found you intimidating. Maybe it was the age gap between the two of you or the difference in your personality but you were quite hard to get along with to be honest. But now that he think about it. "Woah, you have such cool sibling, Isagi." His friends- his team mates exclaimed, even Aiku and his team could only agree. And with a laugh, "Yeah, so cool, right?" Isagi said smiling.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

#dark night hero #blue lock #blue lock fanfic #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock isagi #platonic relationships #platonic #bllk scenarios #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk headcanon #bllk isagi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #siblings

[reiderwriter]

Here Isn't Where I Wanna Be

Chapter Four of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With Spencer gone, you find yourself spiralling into anger again until a new friend - and a silver lining to your entire situation - appears.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, mentions of the smut in the last chapter in detail, no explicit smut.

A/N: And so we get to it - the plot!! If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the replies or in my inbox, and feedback is greatly appreciated~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist

With Mondays back to normal, you were surprised to find yourself still under the weather the day after Spencer had left you. 

Walking into your office, your body anticipated the fight, muscles tensing, heart beating, blood pumping as you opened the door to your office. Logically, you knew he wouldn't be there. He'd practically shouted it at you the Saturday before. But seeing the vacant desk left you angry once again. 

Tense for a fight, you couldn't stop pacing back and forth in your office as the hours ticked on. A small part of you had hoped that the activities you'd indulged in during the weekend - and indulged was the word for whatever it was you'd done - had simply been your over active imagination once again. 

But even though Spencer has cleaned you up to the best of his ability, had left you in your bed in fresh clothes and tucked under the covers, he couldn't erase the traces of himself on your skin or in your apartment. 

The files you'd both thrown around on the tables were still strewn haphazardly around, the tangle of last night's clothes still discarded suggestively in a line to your couch. He'd washed you up, sure enough, and you'd found a towel and wash cloth in your laundry basket the next morning, but he'd not done a thorough job and you found yourself washing all traces of your activities away from your inner thighs still. 

So, yes. You paced in your office, and you waged a silent war against the empty desk. 

The first week, you were sure they'd come to collect it, to move it elsewhere. 

After all, his time with you - with the university - was done. 

After two weeks, you started spreading yourself out across both desks, twisting them around into an inverted L space so you could roll your chair between the two of them. You stacked books on the stupid reminder of him, you used it as a dining table on late nights and short lunch breaks, you kicked your feet up on it as you read and acted as though it were yours and had never been anyone else's. 

And then you got angry enough that you unblocked Spencer Reid's number. 

You were raging and suffering this torment alone, and why should you be? You'd made a mistake with the case files, sure, but you'd been driven to it by his cockiness, his actions. You deserved the chance to make his life hell one last time as well. 

You took yourself home that night, wrapped yourself in a blanket and pulled your laptop in front of you, and unblocked his number. 

Immediately, you put the phone down and opened your emails. 

You'd take responsibility for the messages, sure, but you had not blocked his email. Searching through the files, you looked through your department database for his work email, searched your inbox for his messages, and came up blank. 

It took you two hours of traipsing through each email - admittedly, you'd probably signed up to one to many mailing list - just to be sure. You finally turned to your spam folder, and there it was. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath as you looked through ten emails. Ten emails from his FBI email account. No wonder they hadn't gotten throug, it was an unauthorised email on a company server. 

You only grew angrier as you read through the messages. 

“Y/N, I have reason to believe you have a file I need as soon as possible. Please message me back as soon as you get this. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I haven't received word from you in 24 hours. If there's something wrong, please reach out. If you're being stubborn, I hope you see reason. Spencer.”

“Y/N. I have your address. If you don't reply in the next four hours, I will be paying you a visit to collect the file myself. You have blocked my number and resisted adult conversation, and I am tired of playing these games. Spencer.”

Sick of playing games? 

From the man that had been playing jenga and scrabble with your bookshelves, that was absolutely rich. You may have worked out that nights frustrations with him easily, but you found yourself angry all over again.

You hadn't even checked your phone yet either, sure that he'd blown that up too until he figured out his number was blocked. 

He'd found your address. He'd practically stalked you to get what he wanted, and then he'd just washed his hands of you the night after? 

It had been a month, and you were still frustrated. 

Your stomach flipped, bike rising in your throat as your anger burned through you.

If he could find you, you sure as hell could find him. You'd assumed he'd found your address through work, and realised it was just as easy to find his as well.  

Before you could stop yourself, you were loading yourself into a car at 8 pm. and driving across the city to Spencer Reid's apartment. 

The red blurring your vision didn't fade until you sounded against his door and were greeted with an entirely too feminine “I'm coming!” 

The woman who opened the door was blonde and cute and sweet, and she had a wonderful smile. You were going to rip Spencer Reid's throat from his chest. 

“I-I’m sorry, I was told this is Spencer Reid's apartment,” you said, trying your best to disappear into the night.

“Oh, yes. Can I help you?” 

“No. No, I'm sorry, I- I don't need help.” 

You must've looked uneasy in that second because before you knew it, the woman was inviting you inside for a hot drink, taking your few seconds of hesitancy to push down your guards completely. 

“Spencer doesn't keep much here in terms of food, but I know there has to be some…aha! Coffee!” 

“No, thank you, really I'm alright, I should leave-” 

In another two minutes, she'd talked you into sitting down and had put a mug in your hands. In a miracle turn of events, you'd actually relaxed enough to take in your surroundings. 

It was like you'd stepped back into your work office. Spencer's apartment, or at least the main living space, was filled with books. There were stacks everywhere, the shelves alphabetised - obviously - and looking neatly chaotic. 

You wanted to examine everything, every picture, every trinket on the shelf, every weakness he had that you could exploit. You wanted to know him. 

“S-So,” you started, turning back to the woman who'd sat herself down in a chair opposite you, staring at you excitedly. “How long have you and Spencer been dating?” 

The woman spluttered her coffee before sending up a howl of laughter that had your cheeks heating. 

Okay. Misunderstanding. You were less pissed at Spencer, but only a fraction.

“Oh, god, the idea of me and the good doctor is incredibly ridiculous. No, it feels incestuous, actually. Really, like shivers down my spine type stuff.”

“So you're his sister?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. Spencer was an only child. You had spent three months with him, you knew at least that much about him. 

“I'm Penelope, I work with Spencer. He's on a case right now, and I came to find him a book.” 

“A book?” You asked again, taking another sip of your drink. Mistake aside, you felt comfortable sitting with her. The couch was comfy, the entire apartment was damn cosy, and it smelt….

Your spine straightened when you realised it smelt like he did, when you realised that thought was somehow a comfort to you. Your stomach had settled for the first time in a week, and the nausea leaving your body after four weeks of anger had made you sick. 

“Yeah, we've been working back to back cases, so he didn't have time to come back and pick up materials, so here I am as his little fairy godfriend to send him a care package.” 

You laughed gently and pulled your feet underneath you on the couch, curling up again. 

“He doesn't deserve you.” 

“What makes you say that?” Her face was open. Her tone was light  but you felt that you'd just walked into a trap. Even though Penelope had described her role on the team to you (not a profiler, not a big risk), you couldn't help but feel as though you were walking into a trap. 

“Well, he's… he's… You know the man better than I do, right? He's infuriating.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave you a smile but didn't say a word. 

“He's domineering. He thinks his way is the best way, he- he- he rearranged my bookshelves!” 

And my guts, you thought to yourself, holding your tongue just quick enough to not let that slip out. You still weren't sure where you stood on the sex. It was good. It was great. It was more than great, and yet you'd hated him until the very second he put his lips on yours, and you hated him again when you'd woken the next morning. Surely that meant that you'd still hated him while fucking him, that you'd just been temporarily blinded by lust? 

“Your bookshelves?” 

“At the university. Sorry, I- I didn't introduce myself, did I?” You told her your name, how you'd met Spencer and regaled her with tales of your office antics. 

“Penelope you, you should've seen the look on his face. It was priceless! Like a deer in headlights, his eyes were so wide, it was adorable,” you said, recounting the run-in with the student. 

“And then, infuriating man, he said he'd spent all dat looking at me, but like, with the books-” 

You realised after five minutes of talking that Penelope had gone completely quiet, just grinning. Uncharacteristically quiet. You'd known her less than an hour, and you knew it was uncharacteristic for her to be so quiet. 

“So you hate him?” She asked, noticing your abrupt stop. 

“I- yes. Yes, I did. I do."

“It doesn't sound like you-” 

“We- we parted on really bad terms. I think. I took one of your files accidentally, and he was very angry, we both said some things-” And did some other things, you thought. 

“Things that I'm sure we both regret.” 

“Oh my god-” the other woman said, suddenly going wide-eyed and jumping up from the couch. 

“You're the- you're the reason he was late! He's never been late, never, apart from - well anyway he's never late but he was late and… oh Miss Y/N, you're not telling me everything!” 

“What? N-No, I don't know what you're-” 

“Luke owes me $20. This is wonderful. Look at me, I'm not even a fancy shmancy profiler or anything!” 

“Penelope please-” 

She heard the plea in your tone and sat down again, zipping her lips up and throwing away a non-existent key. 

“While we were…arguing, he accused me of having blocked his email, ignoring him on purpose. I found out today that he emailed from his FBI account and not his university email-” 

“So it was sent to your spam folder? Yeah, it happens all the time.” 

You shot her a tired look, and she repeated her action. Lips zipped, key thrown.

“I came here to….” To what? Fight with him again? See him again? To one up him? To kiss him again, feel his hands on you, feel his fingers inside of you, his to guess on your clit as you rode his face again, his hands around your throat as you came on his dick, as he blew his load inside you, filling you with his cum- 

“Shit.” 

“Shit? What's… what is shit, Y/N? Please enlighten me, because everything seems very not shit to me right now, other than the fact that I'm due a video call from our boy wonder soon and I haven't located this book yet.

You counted in your head and then recounted again as all the blood drained from your body. You didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that you'd come here just to see him again  using whatever old excuse you could find to get back into his arms (or more accurately, his bed). 

You counted, and you counted again until your brain fogged, and you couldn't even hear Penelope asking you if you were alright anymore. 

“Penelope, I- I think… Penelope, can you keep a secret?” 

“Yes, I can absolutely keep a secret. I'm a great secret keeper. Everyone says if you want a secret keeping, Penelope is your girl-” 

“Okay, that's- that's enough. I need to- shit, I need to go and get…” 

For the thousandth time since Spencer left, you stood up and started pacing. 

“Okay, now you're worrying me, friend I just made. Please don't freak out on me.” 

“I'm sorry, I'm going to freak out, I think I'm pregnant. Very much freaking out.”

All of a sudden, Penelope was up and pacing beside you. 

“Pregnant! With a baby? You think you're pregnant with a baby?”

“I don't see how I could be pregnant with anything else?” 

“You're sure?”

“No! I need a test or a sign from God or something.” 

The woman took a deep breath herself and then grabbed your shoulders, hauling you to her side. 

“Okay, breathe. You sit here, I’ll go pick up a test. Don't go anywhere and don't spiral. Rearrange the bookshelves of you must but don't. Leave. Okay?” 

You nodded, and she rushed out of the door in a whirlwind.

For at least ten minutes, you stayed completely still. It had been roughly seven weeks since your last period and 26 days since you and Spencer had sex. He hadn't pulled out. He hadn't worn a condom. He hadn't asked if you were on birth control. As much as you wanted to be angry, though, you hadn't told him to pull out. You hadn't stopped him and asked him to put on a condom, and if you were telling the truth, you enjoyed it all the more when he'd finished inside you. You'd forgotten that you'd gone off your birth control when you'd started your job, knowing that tenure came with health insurance and wanting to get the implant cheaper or included in your premium. 

What a brilliant plan.

Still, you weren't expecting this, and you were in a haze. 

Seven weeks. You'd missed a period, and you hadn't even noticed. 

You stopped spiralling when you paced into the bookshelves and started actually looking at the things laid about on his shelves. 

There were chess pieces, small rooks placed here and there, as if dropped and forgotten. Paper stuck out of the books at all different angles, and you noticed his looping scrawl on a few of them, his notes brief and indecipherable, but still bringing a faint smile to your lips. 

Then there were the pictures. There were a lot with an older woman you instantly recognised as his mother, and your heart softened as how they looked very protective of one another. Others showed him with his team, with Penelope, and a stern looking middle-aged man, two women, a happy looking, well-built man. There were weddings, faces that popped up here and there. There was a very young, very vulnerable looking Spencer playing chess with an older man. 

The room was filled with family, and you couldn't stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you took in how much Spencer could love. 

He cared, and he cared deeply, and there were all these people in his life that enjoyed being around him. And he hated you. 

Your heart sank, and you were about to leave when Penelope appeared again, test in hand and gently pushed you into the bathroom. 

You took the test and waited. Penelope waited beside you, clutching your (clean) hands in hers as she talked you through her day, distracting you in the only way she could.

But your brain resisted everything, focused only on how you were about to grow a family with a man you knew didn't enjoy your company. 

“What am I going to do, Penelope?” You whispered, suddenly afraid of what your future looked like. 

“I can't - I can't raise a baby with a man that doesn't love me the way-” 

You ran a hand through your hair, biting your tongue quickly. 

“You don't have to answer me, but is it… is there a chance it could be Spencer's?” 

You nodded before you could even think of lying, too wrapped up in your mental to-do list building up and up and up. 

“It could be negative? This could just be panic and stress and-” 

You heard the alarm you'd set for the test go off and jumped up, sprinting into the bathroom. 

Two lines. What did two lines mean? Two lines meant baby. 

Baby. You were having a baby. 

“Y/N, what does it say?” Penelope asked from behind you. 

“It's… I'm…shit.” 

She came up behind you and looked herself, cursing the same way you did as she watched you for your reaction. 

There was a baby. You were going to have a baby. 

Okay. You could have a baby. You could bring a baby into this world. You just had to figure out how, and write a to-do list, and avoid telling your boss until you got tenure, and tell your parents, and tell Spencer. 

Spencer. 

You had to Spencer. You collapsed to the ground, mumbling to yourself as Penelope fanned you with her hands, squeaking at your unresponsiveness. 

“Spencer…” you mumbled. “I have to tell Spencer.”

You blinked the fog out of your eyes and stood quickly, absent mindedly making a note to check if sudden movements were good for the baby or not. 

“Penelope, I need some help,” you said, moving to the living room and pulling our your phone. She trailed behind you, sending you a worrying look, and you thanked the heavens that you'd managed to run into the most forgiving angel of a woman on quite possible the best/worst day of your life. The jury waa still undecided. 

You snapped a picture of the shelves, and then, throwing your phone down, you started tearing each stack apart. 

Once you'd made a large enough gap in the stacks, you turned back to Penelope. 

“We're going to tell Spencer. Like this.” 

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @nvrlandqueen

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #reiderslibrary #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[flemingsfreckles]

Grandkids Pt 2

Jessie Fleming (parent fic)

Synopsis: you and Jessie ask your daughter about her rumored boyfriend, it’s doesn’t go as well as you had hoped. Also based off this request! Follow up fic to this previous fic.

Warnings: mentions of sex, birds and the bees talk again, nothing too explicit, some angst

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this will probably have a part 3 :)

“Ame?” You knock on your daughter's bedroom door, calling her the nickname she got as a little girl from Jessie.

“It's open.” She replies.

You give your wife a smile and a quick squeeze to her hand before you open the door. You and Jessie both walk in, closing the door behind you your daughter spins around in her chair.

“What?” You watch the expression on her face change looking nervous. “Who died?”

“No one died.” You reassure her.

Your daughter looks between you and Jessie. “Then what’s going on?”

“We just wanted to talk to you…” you pause, giving Jessie the chance to talk, she’s been silent since you left the office, you look over at her and she’s looking at the ground.

“Then talk.” your daughter spins back around, turning her head back into the textbook on her desk. She had gotten Jessie’s knack for school, always working her hardest, trying her best. Your son had gotten your interest in school, or more lack of interest in school.

“We need your attention for this.” Your daughter throws her head back and lets out a huff before turning around again. She crosses her arms and looks between you and Jessie. You sit on her bed, across from her. You look at Jessie who’s standing still just by the door. You pat the side of the bed and she snaps out of her stare and moves to sit next to you.

“We overheard some things Riley was saying when you two got home today.” You pause, hoping your daughter wouldn’t make you drag this out and would jump in confirming or denying the boyfriend. She doesn’t. “He mentioned a boyfriend.”

You watch your daughter break eye contact with you, her eyes finding her hands fidgeting, just like Jessie did when she was nervous. You also notice the redness starting to form on her cheeks.

“Amelia?” You don’t want to force her to tell you, you want her to do it on her own, but it didn’t seem like she was going to offer that information voluntarily. She doesn’t look up from her hands. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I guess.” She mumbles. You practically feel Jessie tense up next to you at your daughter's mention of the boy.

“Okay.” Now you were racking your brain for what to say next. “That’s fine we’re not upset, you can have a boyfriend. What’s his name?”

“Nick.”

“Nick, how do you know Nick?” You question.

She glances over to you. “School. He’s in my advanced calculus class.”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Couple weeks.” She shrugs as if she’s unsure.

“Have you gone on dates?” You realize it’s starting to feel like you’re interrogating your daughter, but you had questions and wanted to know.

“Yeah. We hang out at lunch, we’ve gotten dinner with a group of friends, we study after school together sometimes.”

“Alone?” Jessie finally chips in.

“I mean, we’re at school, but yes, it’s usually just us,”

“You will not be allowed to be alone with him anymore, you will not make us grandparents for at least another 10 years.” Before your daughter finishes, Jessie cuts her off.

Your daughter's jaw drops. “Oh my god, is that what this is? You’re trying to give me the sex talk again?”

“Amelia we just want to check in with you, you’ve never had a boyfriend, we just wanted to kind of cover our expectations.” You try to explain to her that this is more than just a sex talk.

She just looks at you.

“We’d like to meet him, especially if you’re going to continue seeing him.” She nods at you. “He won’t be a distraction, if there’s a negative change in your school, your behavior, your attitude, that we think is due to him, that’ll be a problem.”

“He won’t be a problem.”

“He’s welcome to come over, but you two won’t be alone in the house together. No behind closed doors activities, especially not now while this is new and we don’t necessarily trust him.”

“Ughh” your daughter covers her face, obviously not enjoying the conversation being had, she knew where it was going and what you were implying.

“Look, Amelia, none of us are comfortable having this conversation, but,” you let out a sigh, looking at Jessie and then back to your daughter. “If you have any questions or I don’t know concerns, confusion, regarding the physical intimacy that comes with,”

“Oh my god.” Your daughter plugs her ears with her fingers. “I know how sex works, I don't need to be taught.”

“Amelia, act like an adult.” You give her a stern look and she drops her hands.

“If you’re dating, that part of your relationship is going to come up. Your mom and I just want to establish this open line of communication regarding anything you may have questions about. We’d rather you come to us than consult the internet.” You glance at Jessie, trying to give her the option to jump in and talk but she stays silent. “We get that you’re nearly an adult, sex is a natural thing, we just want you to be safe and smart about it. We’re not going to tell you what you can and can’t do with your body, you’re legally a consenting adult. We just, if it’s something that’s going to happen or you think might happen, you can talk to us.”

“Can I talk to both of you? Or is just Mom okay with this?” Your daughter is now looking at Jessie but pointing at you.

You look at your wife, her jaw is clenched, as if she’s been holding back snarky comments the whole time you’ve been talking.

“Ma?” Your daughter tries again to get Jessie to speak. The two of them stare at each other, no words being exchanged. You take the moment to realize how alike your daughter and wife are. Their freckled faces, both sporting an embarrassed blush on their cheeks, their hair, your daughter’s much longer than Jessie’s but similar in color and texture. In this moment their stubbornness, them both sitting, not speaking at each other. You daughter had always been Jessie’s little girl, your son clinging more to you, you knew your daughter would want Jessie’s approval, she’d want confirmation that she could go to Jessie if she needed something.

Jessie pushes herself off the bed, not uttering a single word shaking her head as she walks out of the room. Youre stuck for a moment. Completely stunned by what just had occurred. Stunned by your wife’s lack of regard for your child who just wanted some reassurance. Once you snap out of your stunned state you look over to your daughter. She's blinking rapidly, her lower lip is being held tightly between her teeth but the way it was quivering still noticeable.

“Ame.” You stand up and go to wrap your arms around your daughter. You were ready to rip into your wife for her immaturity but first you had to comfort your daughter. “It’s alright.”

“Does she hate me?” You can hear your daughter sniffle slightly as she speaks.

“Oh honey! No, she doesn’t hate you.” You squeeze her tighter.

“Then why won't she talk to me?” Her voice breaks as she asks you, breaking your heart. You feel a tear from your daughter's face hit your forearm.

You give her a kiss on the top of her head. “She doesn’t hate you honey. She just, she’s having a hard time, I think shes just realizing that her little girl isn’t so little anymore. It’s hard, you used to be so small. But that’s still not fair for her to behave like that.” You feel your daughter nod into your chest. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

“Okay.” You release your daughter from your grasp, looking at her teary face. “Amelia, we both love you, she’ll come around.” She nods again and you turn to leave her room.

“Thank you.” Your daughter says right before you leave her room. “For treating me like an adult, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you both sooner about him, it just never felt like the right time and I wanted to make sure it stuck and I was worried I’d just be scolded and told I wasn’t allowed to date, except that’s what it seems she wants.”

“She’ll come around, I promise.” You give her a smile as you close the door behind you. The smile immediately dropping when you see Jessie standing in the living room.

“Bedroom, now!” You say through your teeth as you glare at your wife when you step out of your daughter's room. You grab her arm and pull her behind you across the house and into your room, shutting the door hard behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” You try to keep your voice quiet, Amelia already being upset you didn’t want her to overhear your fight and blame herself. Jessie says nothing, cowering away from you.

“Seriously Jessie, she asked me if you hated her! Our daughter thinks you hate her, do you realize how fucked up it was to walk out? All she wanted was something from you, you said nothing to her! She wanted to know she could come to you, that she could trust you with questions and you failed to show her that she could!”

“I, I didn’t know what to say.” Keeping her eyes on the floor Jessie quietly mutters.

“Anything, anything would’ve been better than what you did! She’s in her room crying, she thinks you’re disappointed in her, she’s done nothing wrong!” You raise your voice accidentally.

“I know.”

“You better fix this, tonight.” You give her a hard look before you walk out of the room, not caring how hard you closed the door behind you.

You wander out to the living room, slumping down on the couch. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You had felt confident going into your daughter’s room, you and Jessie had just talked, she had agreed that you’d talk to her as an adult, give her the opportunity to ask questions, and Jessie had completely abandoned that plan.

Part of you understood how Jessie felt, it was hard realizing your kids weren’t kids anymore. It was hard, but you knew it was coming. You had 17 years to prepare and it definitely didn’t feel like enough time. You accepted Amelia was an adult now, you had given her more freedom, asked less questions about where she was going, you expected her to behave like an adult, and she had. She had proven to both you and Jessie that she was more than capable of being her own person. She had a job, she did well in school, she was home on time, she was a good kid who turned into an equally good young adult.

The longer you sit on the couch the more uncomfortable you become. It was as if you could feel the tension between the two sides of your house, your daughter's bedroom off to your left and your shared bedroom with Jessie off to the right of where you sat. No noises or signs of movement coming from behind either door.

It takes time but finally your bedroom door cracks open and your wife steps out. She makes the move toward your eldest child’s bedroom stopping in front of where you sat. “Can you come with me?” You push up from where you sat and follow her to the doorway.

You stand behind Jessie, she was going to have to make the move, you weren’t here to help her. She knocks, Amelia answers the door without a word she gives you both a glance and then turns back toward her desk.

“Amelia,” Jessie starts as she walks into the room, she sits back on the bed as you two had before, this time you stay by the door. Jessie pats her hand on the comforter, inviting your daughter to come sit next to her. Amelia sends you a pointed look before slowly making her way to sit.

Jessie holds out her hands to your daughter, Amelia places her own into Jessie’s. “Amelia, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for walking out before, that was not the right choice, I just needed to take a moment, I’m sorry I made you think I was upset with you.”

“It’s alright.” Your daughter shrugs.

“No, it’s not. That was a bad example of how to deal with my emotions. I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m not upset with you, and I certainly don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I just needed to process a little bit more.”

“You told her?” Your daughter now looks at you, annoyance on her face.

“She did.” Jessie steps in to defend you to your daughter. “I was being selfish, your Mom called me out on it, she told me I hurt you because I was too caught up in my own feelings. Don’t be mad at her.”

Amelia looks between the two of you. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Jessie takes a deep breath, letting the air out of her lungs before she starts. “I don’t want you sleeping with him.” Jessie is able to get out before your daughter interrupts.

“I’m not Ma, we haven’t, we won’t-” Jessie gently shakes Amelia’s hands, giving them a squeeze.

“First off I want to meet him, before you two continue on dating, I need to see if he’s a good person. If we don’t think he’s a good person, that’ll be a different conversation, but I trust your judgment so I’d like to think he’s a good person. He will be respectful of you, and respectful to us, he’ll be respectful to your brother, he’ll respect your time, he’ll respect your friends. He will understand that while, yes, he’s your boyfriend and you’re his girlfriend, you are not his, you’re your own person.”

Your own eyes widen at the speech your wife is suddenly giving your daughter. It wasn’t the first time Jessie had been stern with your kids, she had been before when it came to them being disrespectful or doing something potentially dangerous. This was different, she wasn’t necessarily being stern, but firm in her expectations and you couldn’t help but feel proud of her for first owning that she messed up with your daughter earlier, and now giving her the fair and adult conversation that she had previously feared.

“You two will not be allowed to sleep over at each other's houses, you will not be out extra late with him. I know you say you haven’t slept together and you won’t, but I’ve also been a teenager so I know how quickly that can change. And I’m not an idiot, so don’t try any of that sneaky shit missy. Your Mom and I played that game, we did all the sneaking around when we first dated, we know all the tricks and all the places you can hide.”

“Gross.” Amelia mutters under her breath.

It’s now your turn to feel the embarrassment as Jessie brings up how the two of you used to sneak around as teenagers, being only able to see each other on National Team duty, you made good use of hotel rooms, training rooms, closets, bathrooms, all while hiding your relationship for the first two years.

“I’m also not ignorant enough to realize you don’t need to have a sleepover to have sex. I don’t know why parents think it’s only at night. Regardless, the door stays open when he’s over and in your room. And, I can’t believe I’m saying this, if you’re going to have sex with him, just please be smart about it. You can come to me or your Mom, I promise. I’d rather you tell us it might be on your mind, than sneak off and do it in his car in a dirty alley with no protection and then we have grandkids, we can discuss birth control if it comes to that. But no sex in a sketchy alley. And don’t rush into it, don’t you dare let him rush you or pressure you in anyway into it! Am I clear?”

“Yes.” Amelia says, nodding while still avoiding eye contact with you and Jessie, choosing to stare across at her desk chair.

“Any questions?”

Your daughter shakes her head and Jessie reaches for your daughter's phone on the nightstand and hands it to her. “Now, invite him for dinner on Friday.”

“Ma, no!” She snatches the phone from Jessie’s hand but doesn’t make a move to text Nick.

“Invite him Amelia, if he’s a decent person, you have nothing to be worried about.

“I’m not worried about him, I’m worried about you two, you’re both going to interrogate him and scare him off!”

“No we won’t.” You reassure your daughter, you didn’t want to scare the boy, you just wanted to get to know him. Dinner seemed like a safe way to do that.

“You might not, but she will.” Your daughter cranes her neck to look at you, her arm pointing at Jessie in front of her.

“I’m your mother, I'm allowed to interrogate him. Invite him Amelia, if Friday doesn’t work we’ll do a different day but I’m meeting this boy.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

#oop #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[pucked-bunnie]

shameless flirt ⎜ a.matthews

pairings: auston matthews x reader prompts: "you can rest your head on me, I don't mind" + "I dont want to be alone." genre: fluff ⎜angst ⎜friends to lovers⎜ warnings: injured players ⎜auston is a little espresso depresso ⎜just auston being in love the whole time ⎜had to make tyler the bad guy, sorry ⎜ synopsis: working as a team trainer came with many ups and downs, when you pull one of toronto's super stars the downs seem to outweigh the ups - but auston is always willing to bring you back up. word count: 4.8k authors note:  this was a WIP i had already started but when doing the prompt list request I got two request that I felt tied in nicely, so I put them all together. I also love our gentle giant auston matthews. (disclaimer : none of the hockey events in this are accurate - so dont come for me.)

(unedited)

+

+

“You need to stop staring.” You can’t help the way you jump at the words, glaring at the man behind you before turning back towards the rink. 

“I’m not staring.” You huff, flicking some hair away from your face. “I’m assessing.” The large man steps forwards leaning against the barricade besides you, his eyes trailing over your face before following your gaze to the player on the ice. 

“Assessing for what?” Auston asks, his gaze watching his teammate curiously, before moving back towards you. Your frown was deepening as you watched the Swedish player move through the drills on the ice. “Is he okay?” 

Something was wrong.

What were you seeing that he couldn’t? 

“That is for me to know and for you to probably never find out.” You sigh as you push off the wall, turning towards the large man. “What’re you doing out here anyway, don’t you have an interview to do?” Auston shrugs as he turns away from the ice to look at you. 

“Is he injured?” He questions and this time you shrug in return. 

“It’s none of your business, Auston.” You begin holding up a hand before he begins to complain, “It’s a suspicion, nothing more and once it concerns you, you’ll be the first to know.” You finish, smiling as your player makes his way to the boards, unstrapping his helmet as he skates. 

“How was that, doc?” William asks, a large grin planted on his face as he nods a quick hello to his teammate. 

“Subpar.” You respond, William’s smile dropping slightly. “You seem to be favouring your left leg, I need to do a physical on you at some stage this afternoon if you manage to catch a free moment.” You continue, looking between the two players before letting out a relaxed grin. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Willy. But we can’t have you out there if you can’t play your best.” William nods slowly, trying to return your smile but you can see the worries running through his head quicker then he can keep up. 

He’s hiding something from you and you are determined to find out what it is. 

“Meet me in the treatment room after you shower, we'll go over my concerns then.” You say dismissing William back to the locker room before turning to Auston, glancing up at him with a sigh. 

“You need to go do your media, Auston” He opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head before you trudge down the tunnel after William. 

Working for the Toronto Maple Leafs had been nothing short of a dream for the three years you had been with the team - with one of the senior trainers leaving after last season you had been approached to step in as a full time trainer and senior member of staff - your role changing drastically and sometimes left you in the firing line when an unpopular decision had to be made. 

“He’s getting pulled isn’t he?” Auston’s voice sounds from the door of your office. William had left your office over an hour ago his eyes watering as you gave him the bad news. You had spent the hour in silence typing up the email recommendation to the coaching staff. 

“I can’t tell you anything, Auston.” You say quietly, “You know how this works.” Auston nods, taking a few steps into the room before closing the door behind him. 

“Is it bad?” 

“Auston, please.” You respond, rubbing your fingers against your forehead, a long sigh escaping you as you slowly nod your head. “It’s bad enough that he needs to focus on rehab right now.” You say, before adding “everyone’s gonna hate me for this.” This wasn’t your first time pulling one of the core four on the team - last time the boys had been more lenient as you were one of the junior staff members and the decision had your previous supervisor taking most of the heat - this time you were on your own. 

“I could never hate you.” He says softly, his chest squeezing as he watches the tiredness smooth over your expression. 

“Thanks.” You say with a bitter laugh, closing your laptop as you reach for your bag under the desk. 

“They’ll give the team an update tomorrow.” 

Auston stands with you, his hand reaching out to pull open the door waving for you to exit first. “I’m serious doc.” He says, “I’ve got your back.” 

Twenty four hours later you watch from the doorway as the coaches deliver the news to the team - the coaches waiting till after practice to announce that William would be pulled for the foreseeable future - Auston’s eyes flick to yours every now and then as the coaches refuse to divulge too deeply into the details. 

“What do you mean he’s getting pulled?” Mitch asks softly, yanking at the straps of his padding, pulling the equipment off slowly, “He seemed completely fine.” The volume is the locker room raises as the team all share their opinions of agreement.

The coach takes a moment to let the group voice their frustration before speaking.  “Our trainers are some of the best in the world.” Sheldon begins, “They have everyone's best interest at heart - she made the call to pull Willy as it was perceived that he was trying to conceal an injury and in the long run would be doing more damage. Willy agreed it was the best thing to do with hopes that with his full focus on recovery it will make him available for the playoffs.” Sheldon's words seem to quiet the group.

Auston hands pause on the laces of his skates as he glances over to you again, seeing your head fall, your hand pushing the loose hairs out of your face, as you whisper something under your breath before lifting your head again. “Anyway, let’s wish William all the best in his recovery and hope to see him back on the ice soon.” Sheldon finishes before dismissing the group, shouting out a quick morning practice time for tomorrow morning before exiting the locker room. 

The locker room is quiet after the coach leaves, Auston risking one more glance towards you, his heart jumping in his chest as he sees your eyes already locked on him with a sad smile on your face. Auston glances away quickly engaging in the ongoing conversation besides him to try and ignore you and your gaze on the side of his face.

He still notices when you turn slowly and decides to leave the room. 

+

+

“Fuck.” Sheldon swears under his breath as the end of game horn rings - the crowd of red roaring in victory as the home team groups together on the ice, patting each other on the heads. The sea of blue fans beginning to exit the stands all sending glares of anger towards your team slowly skating their way to the bench - hoping to make a quick exit. 

The game had been an intense one - the team had been so close to pulling through but continued to miss their shots, the fire power significantly decreased since you pulled one of their top scorers. You keep your head down low as you follow the last player down the tunnel, everyone making their way into the locker room - “Doc, we need to talk for a moment.” Your steps freeze as you glance ahead to the maple leafs coach waiting to the side of the locker room - his arms folded against his chest. 

“Sure, thing.” You say, plastering a smile on your face as you step away from the group - one of the players pausing by the door of the locker room, his hand making quick work of his helmet as he glances between you and his coach. 

“You have something to say, Matthews?” Auston glances at his coach, his mouth opening slightly before closing again, his gaze trailing over to you, your head moving side to side in the smallest movement he barely catches it. 

“It’s okay.” He can see you mouth the words, your head motioning for him to enter the room behind him before turning back towards his coach. 

“Don’t be too hard on her.” He says quietly into the hallway not waiting for you or Sheldon to respond before trudging into the locker room. 

“We both know that your decision to pull Nylander is one that can’t be reversed until you sign off on his physical.” Sheldon begins - the leafs had implemented a new protocol on the return of players from the injury reserve, the doctor who made the decision to pull the player had to be the one to sign them off on returning to avoid players and coaches undermining the doctors decision. 

You nod your head slowly - your smile faltering as you catch on to what the coach is hinting at. “You want me to sign him off early?” Your question almost comes out of your mouth as a scoff - your eyebrows raised as your smile officially switches to a frown. “You want me to break protocol for this?” You reiterate, your own arms crossing against your chest as you stare down the coach. 

“No, of course not.” Sheldon’s words come out with a nervous laugh - his gaze flicking over the hallways as he takes a step forwards - his voice lowers as he speaks again. “We only have one more game before the playoffs - we need our team back at full potential.” 

You nod taking in his words, giving him a second to continue, “You understand, don’t you? You know what this would mean to the team - to be able to begin the playoffs as a force to be reckoned with… we can’t do that without our core four.” You shake your head as you take a step away from the desperate coach. 

“No can do, Sheldon.” Your words are firm as you glance to the players beginning to hover at the door of the locker room. “I’m not going to risk him injuring himself permanently for the sake of playing a game.” You know your words are making the coach angry - his rage simmering as a red tint rises up his neck. “I care about our players, and I’d hope you’d share the same sentiment, coach.” The words hiss out of you as you glare at the man, not wasting anymore time in making your way into the medical bay besides the locker room - closing the door tightly behind you. 

You miss the way the rest of the team let out whistles of shock as their coach lets out a huff of displeasure.

You miss the way Auston watches you walk away, a slight grin on his face before his coach dismisses him to finish pulling off his gear. 

+

+

The team was two hours behind schedule - most of the staff already seated on the plane waiting for the players to join them so everyone could make the three hour flight back home. Slowly the players made their way onto the plane - each taking up their normal seats, most of the time the players would sit amongst each other while the staff would find their own seats towards the back of the plane - Sheldon considered it another of his many ways for the team to get closer together. 

“Auston, you gonna join us for some black jack?” Mitch’s voice carries through the airplane - his hands already shuffling a deck of cards, two of his team mates looking up at the newest arrival in anticipation. 

Auston hesitates looking between the empty seat next to you - and his best friend waiting for him to take the seat across from him. “I think I’m gonna miss out this time.” Auston says slowly walking further down the aisle - Mitch looking at his friend in disbelief. “I’m just super tired.” Auston adds as he shoves his bag in the overhead locker before dropping into the seat beside you - your eyes shooting over to him in confusion - your hand lifting to pull one of your AirPods out of your ear. 

“What are you doing?” You sneer under your breath - not missing the way some of his teammates glare over at you. “You need to move - staff and players don’t sit together, Auston.” Your hands shove at him lightly, but Auston makes himself comfortable in the seat beside you, a soft smile on his face as he ignores your pleading, clicking the seat belt at his hips and settling into the seat.

“This is ridiculous.” You huff, giving up on trying to move the large man, pressing play on the iPad screen in front of you, one AirPod still in your ear as the movie continues. “What’re you watching?” Auston asks as the flight attendants move down the plane checking everyone is buckled in and comfortable. 

You let out a long yawn as you shoot him a glare, “None of your business.” If your words were meant to stop Auston from interacting with you, they seemed to be doing quite the opposite. 

“You’re tired?” He questions as you let out another yawn, slapping a hand over your mouth to cover the movement, “You can rest your head on me.” He says softly, lowering his left shoulder, patting against the hard muscle with a grin, “I don’t mind.” He adds quickly, lowering his shoulder a little bit more. 

“Auston, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“It’s probably not.” He agrees, his right hand reaching over to shuffle your iPad into the middle of your seats, before reaching over his body to gently pull your head down onto his shoulder, his left hand, grabbing for yours - your fingers lacing together as he sits your joined hands comfortably in your lap. 

“But that’s never really stopped me before.” 

Your breath gets caught in your chest as you think of all the ways people must be whispering about your position - not daring to lift your head off Auston’s shoulder to look around at the people around you - not daring to lift your head from the comfortable fabric of Auston’s fleece jumper. 

“Rest, doc.” He whispers softly, his hand squeezing yours, as he watches the movie on the screen, pulling the spare AirPod out of its case to shove in his ear. 

You’re not sure when you fall asleep but you wake to Auston’s hand squeezing yours, his head laying softly on top of yours, a jacket thrown over your torso, the movie credits playing on the screen of your iPad. 

“We’ve arrived.” The flight attendant says quietly, her gaze flicking over you and the man beside you with a knowing grin - leaving as you thank her, detaching your hand from Auston’s, the man letting out a soft groan, his hand reaching out to take yours again. 

“We’re here.” You whisper to him, slipping his jacket off of you to place back into his lap, gathering all your stuff before shoving it into your backpack - gently reaching to pull the remaining AirPod out of Auston’s ear, sliding it back into the case. “Auston?” You say softly as you shake his shoulder lightly. 

He sits up slowly, stretching his arms above his head as he glances over at you, your bag already slung over your shoulder as you wait for him to move so you can exit the plane. 

“Same time tomorrow?” He asks, undoing the belt in his lap, and stepping out into the aisle. You shake your head as you pass him, not able to stop the spreading grin on your face. 

+

+

Your head falls forwards as the end of game horn sounds for the last time in the regular season - the leafs lost again - the final game of their season they lost and they lost by two. Even though they were still guaranteed a position in the playoffs it never felt good to start the first round on a loss. 

Not to mention the news hitting the team yesterday that they would be up against Boston in the first round - the two teams notorious for having very intense games. 

No one says anything as the team makes their way back to the locker room - everyone stripping off their gear with heavy heads, most wanting nothing more than to get on the plane and head back home, you included. You can’t ignore the way people glare at you as you enter the room, some players whispering to each other under their breath in frustration. 

Some of the team still makes friendly conversation or sends you tight smiles as you help them unwrap their tape - or roll out their tight muscles, but most say nothing. Your final patient never makes his way into your medical bay - the other doctors packing up as you wait for the tall brunette to pop his head into the room, but nothing, not even a glimpse of the large player. 

“We’re going to take this stuff out to the crew, are you alright to pack up the rest?” One of your colleagues asks as he passes by you -  a few cases in his hands. 

“Yeah, I’ll be good to go in just a moment.” You say softly, letting out a quiet sigh as you turn to pack up your equipment, turning as you head a soft knock on the door. 

“Do you still have time to help me get this tape off?” His voice is quieter than usual - the player you were waiting for standing by the open door - his skin red from where he had tried to rip the strapping tape off on his own. You nod quickly, taking in his sad eyes - the skin around them redder than usual. 

“I tried to get it off myself, but you’re clearly too good at your job.” Auston says a bitter chuckle coming out as he takes a seat on the table in front of you - your hands digging through your bags for the adhesive removal spray. 

“Why didn’t you come ask for help sooner?” You ask quietly, as you behind to spray the remover on the remaining tape wincing at the rash spreading across his skin where the tape was already removed. “You could’ve gotten someone else to remove it.” You add quickly the thought that maybe he was trying to avoid you running through your head quickly. 

“Why would I do that?” His question confuses you, your eyebrows furrowing but you continue pulling off the tape. “You think I’m avoiding you?” 

“Aren’t you?” You ask bitterly, remembering the looks of the others on the team, the ones that clearly blame you for the loss. “Everyone else hates me right now, so it’s not like I blame you.” Auston just watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your chin wobbling as you try to suck in the overwhelming disappointment that’s been growing in yourself. He watches as you focus all your attention on pulling off the tape, keeping your attention on his sore skin as you rub soothing cream over the rash that he gave to himself. 

“I could never hate you.” He says softly as you twist the lid back onto the cream, standing from his spot on your bench, his hands raising to your face, lifting your head to tilt up towards him. “I told you when you first made the decision - I could never hate you, no matter what anyone else thinks - not even what you think, do you understand?” Your chin trembles as his thumb strokes against your cheeks softly, your head nodding in confirmation, his hands staying just under your jaw as he lets out a soft sigh.

“Then why are you sad? Why didn’t you come to me to help?” Your question stalls Auston’s ministrations on your skin, his thumbs stopping in their motions as he stares down at you, his jaw clenching as he tries to find his words. 

“I’m just disappointed.” 

“Disappointed?” 

“In myself.” He confirms before adding, “In the team, we let one person's absence throw us off the ball - we do this every god damn year.” His forehead drops to yours, his hands slipping away from your face, sliding over your shoulder before grazing down your arms, his fingers reaching out to lace with yours. “I thought we were going to do better this year… I thought I would do better.” 

The sound of footsteps in the locker room makes the two of you jump, your hands slipping out of his as you quickly throw the rest of your equipment into their cases, turning back to Auston with a soft smile. “You should finish getting change for the flight.” Auston nods, frowning as he glances out into the locker room seeing the other doctors hovering by the door. 

“You’ll wait for me?” He asks quickly, your head nodding before you can even register what he asked, his body slipping through the door before you can take back your agreement. 

But you do as requested, handing off your cases to the other doctors promising them you’d meet them on the plane, making excuses about Auston wanting to talk about a treatment plan for his shoulder - they both nod understandingly moving quickly to get the last of the equipment to the trucks to take to the airport. 

Auston’s surprised to see you still standing outside the locker room when he exits - his back thrown over his shoulder, a large white hooding thrown over your uniform as you turn towards him. The two of you walk to the bus in silence, neither knowing why you had stayed. 

Neither of you know why you still stayed as you sit next to each other on the bus. 

As you fall into your seats besides each other on the plane. 

Auston’s surprised again as you take hold of his hand once the flight takes off - your gaze focused on the window as the plane levels out - your headphones over your ears as you pretend your thumb isn’t rubbing gentle circles on the back of his hand. 

“What is going on with you two?” Auston’s head shoots up from the video playing on his phone, Mitch leaning over the back of the chair in front of him, his eyes lingering on the joined hands sitting in your lap. If you head Mitch you pretend not to, your chin in your hand as you keep watching the black sky pass by. 

“None of your business.” Auston replies, praying to whoever will listen that you don’t pay attention to Mitch’s interrogations, praying that you don’t take your hand out of his. “Mitch drop it.” Auston sneers as his friend's gaze drops to your joined hands again, Auston squeezing yours as he feels your fingers loosen on his. “Please.” Auston adds, Mitch’s eyebrows raising in surprise as he throws his hands up in surrender. 

The rest of the flight passes in silence, most of his teammates busy with their own unwinding processes, a lot of the staff sleeping for as much of the flight as possible. 

Neither of you two sleep. 

Neither of you acknowledge the other until the plane stops on the runway - the players and staff quickly making their way off the plane, stretching their limbs as they go. 

“Do you have a ride home?” Auston asks, his chest tightening as you finally pull your hands out of his, the warmth of your skin lingering in his palm. You shake your head softly, pulling out your phone and flashing the Uber app on your screen. “Come home with me.” Auston says wincing as the words hit him as soon as he says them. 

“Not like that - I mean I wouldn’t be against it but… I just…” 

“What do you mean then, Auston?” You interrupt, your face soft as you wait for him to respond, giving him the time to collect himself. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” He admits quietly, “I’d really like to spend some more time with you.” You don’t say anything, glancing down at the open app on your phone before glancing back up at him - handing your unlocked phone over, the arrival address waiting. 

“No way in hell you’re paying for the ride.” He hisses, pushing your phone back towards you as he pulls his own phone out of his pocket, reaching overhead to pull his backpack out of the locker, his hand reaching out for yours as he drags your off the plane behind him - the two of you bypassing the rest of the staff, Auston sneaking to grab your two suitcases before rushing you off the runway and into the airport an Uber waiting out the front. 

Auston sits comfortably in the silence, his hand warm between the two of you - his heart beating so fast he’s glad you know how to do CPR cause he might need it if you do anything else. 

Auston thanks the driver as he pulls up outside his building - pulling the bags from the trunk - your small duffle stacked on top of his suitcase - the bags dragged behind him as he also drags you behind him and into the empty lobby. 

“This place is really fancy.” You say as he scans his house fob - the elevator automatically selecting the floor for his condo. Auston doesn’t say anything, pretty sure he’d throw up if he attempted to get words out. 

“Are you okay?” You question as the elevator dings - the doors opening to the front door of his condo - the only condo on this floor. 

“Mhm.” He answers, swallowing his nerves as he shoves his key into the lock, opening the door as quickly as possible pulling you quickly into his empty apartment. 

“No Felix?” You question as you glance around, an empty crate sitting in the living room with no sign of the dog. 

“He’s at Mitch’s - Felix loves visiting Zeus when we go on roadies.” Auston finally speaks, his hand dropping yours for just a moment to set up your bags by the front door, pulling his large puffer off his shoulders and throwing it over a coat rack by the front door.   

“Make yourself at home.” Auston says as he strides into the kitchen grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, his gaze shooting over to your body relaxing into the cushions of his oversized couch. 

“Where the hell did you get this thing?” You question as he hands you your bottle of water, slumping into the seat beside you, a grin on his face as he watches you settle in further. 

“I don’t know if my sister bought it.” He says quickly, your eyes squeezed shut as he reaches for a blanket draped over the back of the couch, throwing it over your lap. 

“Well I need the link.” You comment on bliss twisting the lid off the water as you take a sip. 

“It was almost ten thousand though.” Auston’s hand moves to pat your back as the water gets stuck in your throat - coughs racking your body as you pat your chest. 

“Never-mind then.” 

“You can use mine whenever you want.” Auston says and you scoff, falling back against the couch as you drop the evil water besides you on the couch. “I’m not kidding.” He adds. 

Auston doesn’t know what makes him change his position. 

He’s not sure why he lies down on the couch, his head gently landing in your lap. 

He’s not sure what to do when he feels your fingers thread in his hair, running softly through his messy locks - the water from his shower still making the ends of his hair wet and tangled. 

Auston’s not sure when you both fall asleep - his phone making him squint as he checks the time - the four am flashing as he throws the device to the other side of the couch. 

He drags himself off the couch slowly, careful not to wake you as he slides his arms under your body, lifting you gently with a soft grunt as he scuttles down the hallway - his room only lit by the lights of the other high building through his window, his body freezing as you let out a soft whine as he drops you onto his mattress dragging his duvet down the bed to throw over your body. 

He doesn’t know what makes him round the bed, sliding onto the mattress behind you, pulling the blanket over his body as well, his mind running so fast as you turn on the mattress, your hands reaching out to tangle in the fabric of his shirt, your body shuffling in the cold sheets to move closer to him. 

“Don’t make things awkward, Auston.” You huff, as one of your hands releases his shirt, grabbing his frozen arm to drape over your waist, a happy hum leaving you as he pulls you tighter against him, his chin resting against the top of your head. “We’re going to have to talk about this in the morning.” You say. 

“I know.” He responds. 

Neither of you know when you fall back asleep.

But neither of you complain as you wake up bundled together in the large king bed. 

#auston matthews #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #prompt request #prompt list

[meazalykov]

curiosity kills the cat

barca femeni x esmee brugts x reader

summary: reader faces rejection from her crush.

according to fans of barcelona, y/n had always been good at concealing her feelings throughout football matches. nobody never really knew what she was thinking when she had to take corner kicks, penalties, or other scenarios. she has a true poker face. 

during her intense football training sessions with the barcelona team, she has more expressions with her friends, but sometimes they might not know how she's truly feeling. some of the older girls— like alexia and ingrid– will check up on y/n even if she is perfectly fine due to her secretive nature. 

what the team doesn’t see is the amount of times the defender looks over at her crush, esmee, during their training sessions. both of the girls joined the team this season and y/n was interested in esmee’s shy personality since the first day. however, y/n had kept this crush a guarded secret. 

she knew that the girls on the team would’ve teased her if she showed any hint about being interested in the dutch woman, so she didn’t talk or look at esmee in any special way unless she could easily explain herself. 

after a hard-fought El Clásico match, with y/n getting two assists leading to a 3-0 win, y/n found herself alone in the dressing room with Esmee. the (reader’s nationality) girl was in the dressing room first, grabbing her stuff to take a shower, but the dutch woman came in second.

the rush of adrenaline and the rare privacy gave y/n some bravery. she knew that her close friends like jana, bruna, or ona would’ve teased her if they saw her doing this, so she knew she had to do it now or never. she took a deep breath and, with her heart pounding, spoke out in the echoed dressing room.

"hey, esmee, good game!" y/n started, trying to sound casual.

“hey y/n, and yes it was very good. great job on the assists by the way!” esmee smiled as she looked ahead at y/n. the girl blushed at the dutch who had a signature shy smile on her face. 

“thank you! i wish i would’ve scored that one pass ona made but olga blocked my shot” y/n said as she giggled at the memory from half-an-hour ago. esmee nodded her head as she remembered the sight from the benches. 

“yeah, i get it.” esmee said. 

 "yeah---um- es, can I–?” y/n cut herself off when she heard footsteps outside of the dressing room.

if someone on their team walked into the dressing room a second later, y/n would’ve said nevermind. however, the footsteps seemed to walk by and further away outside from the dressing room. 

“can you???” esmee’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“i was going to ask if i can ask you something.” y/n said as tapped her bare foot on the ground in nervousness. 

“oh yeah of course” esmee sat down on her bench and untied her pink colored cleats. y/n looked at the sight in front of her, distracted from what she was going to say, before she realized that she couldn't avoid esmee now. 

“ I was going to ask if you'd like to go out sometime? we could maybe grab a coffee or something?" y/n smiled in nervousness. 

“wait as friends or—?” esmee's eyes widened in surprise. 

“as a date–” y/n quickly said. her heart raced as she saw esmee’s surprised look turn into a guilty, sad look on her face. 

"y/n, I... I don't know what to say– I'm flattered, really, but I can’t go on a date with you. I have a girlfriend back home." esmee says, referring to her home as the netherlands. 

the barcelona defender standing felt her heart shatter, her face flushing with embarrassment and horror. "oh– I didn't know. I--- I'm sorry," she stammered, trying to hold back her embarrassment as she realized that she was rejected from her own crush– who happened to be her teammate. 

"It's okay, y/n," Esmee said softly. "I didn't talk about it much. I didn't mean to hurt you."

y/n nodded, managing a small, forced smile. "no, it's fine. i'm glad you told me."

a guilty esmee left the dressing room, not knowing what to say further. y/n didn’t bother going into the showers– she slumped onto the bench, feeling a wave of heartbreak and self-doubt. she began to question her own likability, feeling the sting of yet another rejection she received from a crush she had.

growing up, y/n had experienced having crushes like the average teenager. however, she had to witness kids around her experience the full relationship package meanwhile she couldn’t escape the crush stage. most of the people she liked never seemed to like her back. do people think i’m ugly? is there something wrong with my personality? and similar questions spiraled  in y/n’s mind. 

an entire group of her teammates walked into the dressing room seeing the girl with tears poured down her eyes. the team's captain, Ale, along with Ingrid, Mapi, Aitana, and Frido, gathered around her in shock. she was happy thirty minutes ago about beating madrid, what happened? 

"oh no– whats wrong niña?" alexia asked, her voice full of concern.

"I-I just feel so stupid.” y/n said, criticizing herself over something the girls didn’t know about. 

“don’t say that! you’re not stupid–  what's going on?” ingrid said, pulling a bit of hair behind y/n’s ear.

“I—-fuck—-- I just asked esmee out, I asked her out on a date.. I didn’t know she had a girlfriend otherwise I wouldn’t have done that” Y/N admitted, her voice trembling. some of the girls were shocked, while the others felt guilty about the situation. If y/n came to them about her crush, they would’ve told her about esmee’s girlfriend back on her national team. they’re (also) surprised that y/n didn’t know about that.

“i’m not sure if its that serious– but i just feel so embarrassed and... unlikable right now." y/n shook her head and looked up at the ceiling in the dressing room, trying to hold back her tears from her eyes. aitana wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders as frido placed her hand on y/n’s knee, rubbing it gently. 

"oh, y/n," ingrid said, sitting beside her. "rejection is tough, and i’m positive that esmee doesn’t think you’re embarrassing by what you did. there's so many people that like you.”

"being rejected by her doesn't mean you're not likable. it just means that esmee isn't available– it happens." mapi chimed in. y/n closed her eyes as she wished that she would’ve kept her mouth shut. eventually she would’ve known about esmee’s crush and could’ve moved on in peace. now she’s upset that she had to embarrass herself. 

"there's nothing wrong with you sweetheart. you’re an amazing person– and i am not saying that just because you’re my teammate either." fridolina added on, her soft facial expressions looked at the younger girl with guilt. 

despite their comforting words, y/n now couldn't shake off the feeling of being left out. everyone in the dressing room has a companion and a person to love with. she didn’t. now she feels worse. 

"It feels like everyone else has someone, and I'm always the one getting rejected."

alexia squeezed y/n’s shoulder, remembering how she used to be in y/n’s position at one point. "rejection isn't a reflection of you. in fact- it has to do with the other person. do you notice how esmee rejected you because SHE'S the one in a relationship? not because there was something wrong with you– It just means that she isn’t the right one for you."

"exactly," mapi added. "you deserve someone who wants you, for you– and someone who happens to be available."

aitana grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "you’ll be the happiest girl on the pitch when your girl comes into your life." 

y/n smiles for the first time in fifteen minutes, hoping that aitana is right. 

“thank you guys, i appreciate your words.” the heart broken girl says. 

--

happy pride month woso tumblr 🏳️‍🌈

<3

#esmee brugts #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen #aitana bonmati #ingrid engen #mapi leon #alexia putellas

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #cod krueger #sebastian krueger #konig #konig cod #cod nikto #polyamory #bad neighbours #men at work

[satellite-evans]

Familiar Echoes

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: When Y/N, the daughter of the duke of Ashbourne returns to Aubrey Hall, old feelings resurface between her and Benedict Bridgerton, sparking tension and intrigue. As they navigate past misunderstandings with the support of their families, they must confront their emotions and decide if their childhood bond can evolve into something more.

Word count: 4.7k words

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, mention of nude models, childhood friends, misunderstanding

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is my first Benedict fic so I am very excited, hope you guys will like it :)

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The sun cast a warm, golden glow over Aubrey Hall, its rays filtering through the trees and illuminating the vibrant gardens where the Bridgerton children played. Benedict Bridgerton, with his dark curls and inquisitive eyes, was only ten years old, yet he was already showing signs of the artistic and passionate young man he would become.

In the gardens, Benedict was engrossed in a spirited game of hide-and-seek with his siblings and their dear friends, the Y/L/Ns. The daughter of the Duke of Ashbourne, Y/N, was Benedict’s favorite playmate. Her laughter was his favorite and her eyes mirrored something so beautiful, so pure.

Benedict, you’ll never find me!” Y/N called out, her voice echoing through the hedges.

He grinned, determined to prove his best friend wrong. They had spent countless afternoons exploring the grounds, creating imaginary worlds, and sharing secrets that only they understood.

Finally, he spotted her hiding behind a rosebush. “Got you!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and twirling her around.

She laughed, her joy infectious. “You always find me, Benedict.”

He smiled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll always find you, Y/N.”

But the idyllic days of childhood were not to last. That evening, over dinner, the Duke of Ashbourne announced that his family would be leaving London for an extended stay in Italy. The news hit Benedict like a blow, and he struggled to hide his disappointment. He looked over at his friend and saw those same pure eyes filling up with tears. It broke his tiny heart into pieces.

“Leave London? Whatever for?”

Benedict was thrilled that his mother asked because he desperately needed to know why they had to leave.

“We have decided it is time to show our children the world. My father took me on similar journeys when I was their age, and those experiences were invaluable. I want Thomas and Y/N to have the same opportunities—to see different places, learn new things, and broaden their horizons.”

Your mother nodded in agreement, her expression resolute. “We believe it will be good for their education. There’s so much to learn beyond the walls of London, and we want to give them a chance to explore and grow in ways they cannot here.”

Violet glanced at the Viscount, her husband Edmund, who had been listening quietly. He smiled and nodded, understanding the importance of such a decision. “I agree with you, William,” he said to your father. “Traveling and experiencing different cultures can provide a wealth of knowledge and perspective that one simply cannot gain from books alone.”

Thomas, your older brother, seemed very excited about the upcoming adventure.

But Y/N did not.

She was thinking all about how terribly she was going to miss her dear friend Benedict and how awful it was going to be, not to be in his presence all the time.

After dinner, Benedict found Y/N in the music room, softly playing the pianoforte. He approached her, his heart heavy.

“Why do you have to go?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with sadness. “Father believes it’s for the best. He wants us to experience life. He also mentioned that we will also visit Greece and many more."

“But what about us? What about our adventures?” Benedict’s voice cracked with emotion.

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “We’ll always have our memories, Benedict. And we’ll see each other again. I promise.”

Benedict squeezed her hand, trying to hold back tears. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she echoed, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes.

After staying a few more days at Aubrey Hall, the Y/L/N family departed, leaving a void in Benedict’s heart. As their carriage disappeared down the long driveway, he stood beside his father, Edmund Bridgerton, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Time will pass quickly, my boy,” Edmund said gently. “And you’ll see her again before you know it.”

Benedict nodded, but the ache in his heart remained. Little did he know, their next meeting would be years away, and the feelings he harbored would only grow stronger with time.

Years had passed since the Y/L/N family’s departure, and Benedict had grown into a handsome and talented young man. He pursued his passion for art with fervor, yet a part of him always yearned for the companionship he had once shared with Y/N.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm golden glow over Aubrey Hall, when Lady Violet Bridgerton received the letter. She was seated in the drawing room with her children, each engaged in their own activities. Anthony was reviewing estate documents, Colin was reading a book, Eloise was writing furiously in her notebook, and the younger ones were playing a game by the fireplace.

"Everyone," Lady Violet called, her voice filled with excitement. "I have just received the most wonderful news."

The Bridgerton children looked up, curiosity piqued.

"What is it, Mother?" Anthony asked, setting aside his papers.

Lady Violet grinned. "We are to have guests. The Duke and Duchess of Ashbourne, along with their children, are coming to visit."

A chorus of reactions followed. Eloise raised an eyebrow. "The Ashbournes? Weren't they the family that moved away to travel the world?"

"Yes, indeed," Lady Violet confirmed. "The duke was a dear friend of your father. They moved away years ago, but they have decided to return for a time."

"Does this mean we’ll get to see Thomas again?" Colin asked, a grin spreading across his face. "I always liked him."

"And Y/N," Daphne added, her eyes twinkling. "I remember she was always so talented in the pianoforte and the harp."

Benedict remained silent, a slight blush creeping up his neck. He hoped no one would notice, but of course, Anthony did.

"Well, well, Benedict," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It looks like your childhood crush will be reunited with you," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Benedict tried to maintain his composure. "Don't be ridiculous, Anthony. That was ages ago."

Colin chimed in, unable to resist the opportunity to tease his brother. "Oh, come on, Benedict. We all remember how you used to follow her around like a lost puppy."

Eloise snickered. "And how you would turn bright red whenever she spoke to you."

Benedict sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "I was a child. We’ve all grown up since then."

"Perhaps," Anthony said, leaning back in his chair. "But it will be interesting to see how things play out now that you’re both adults."

Lady Violet intervened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Enough teasing, boys. Let us make sure everything is ready for their arrival. They will be here in a few days, and I want everything to be perfect."

As the family dispersed to prepare for their guests, the three Bridgerton brothers found themselves alone in the study.

Anthony leaned against the desk, his expression thoughtful. "It will be good to see Thomas again. He was always a good friend."

Colin nodded. "I heard he’s become quite the gentleman. And he was always supportive of Y/N’s education and talents. Not like most men of our time."

"True," Anthony agreed. "Thomas was never one to adhere strictly to societal norms. He always did what he thought was right."

Benedict, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "I wonder how much Y/N has changed. She was always so passionate about music and poetry."

Colin grinned. "Still thinking about her, eh? You know, Anthony and I used to place bets on when you would finally tell her how you felt."

Benedict rolled his eyes. "You’re never going to let this go, are you?"

Anthony laughed. "Not a chance. But in all seriousness, Benedict, it will be good to see them again. And who knows? Maybe this visit will bring about some unexpected surprises."

Benedict sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. "Maybe."

Y/N stood by her bedroom window, looking out at the rolling hills of their estate as the sun began its slow descent. She was filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension about their imminent departure to Aubrey Hall. The Bridgertons had always held a special place in her heart, especially Benedict, but years and distance had complicated those feelings.

"Are you ready, Y/N?" Thomas's voice called from the hallway.

Y/N turned away from the window and smiled as her brother entered the room. "Almost. Just gathering my thoughts."

Thomas gave her a knowing look. "Excited to see the Bridgertons again?"

"Of course," Y/N replied, smoothing down her dress. "It's been too long."

Thomas leaned against the doorframe, his expression thoughtful. "You know, Anthony mentioned in his letters that Benedict has been quite busy at the Royal Academy. Apparently, the place is famous for its...nude models."

Y/N's hand froze mid-air, her heart skipping a beat. "Nude models?"

Thomas nodded, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Yes, it seems our dear Benedict has been immersing himself in all aspects of art. Anthony said in his letter something about him knocking over an easel while staring at a rather attractive model. Everyone had a good laugh. Quite the scandal, isn't it?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed as she tried to mask her reaction. "It's part of his training, I'm sure. Nothing more."

Thomas watched her carefully, his smirk growing. "You’re right. Still, it's interesting, don’t you think?"

Y/N forced a smile. "What’s your point, Thomas?"

"My point," he said, stepping closer, "is that you seem unusually interested in Benedict’s artistic pursuits."

Y/N met her brother’s gaze firmly. "I’m interested in all my friends' pursuits. Nothing unusual about that."

Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "Very well. But remember, Y/N, I know you better than anyone. I can tell when something—or someone—is on your mind."

Y/N lifted her chin. "And I can assure you, Thomas, that my mind is perfectly clear."

"Fine, fine," Thomas said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where to find me."

Y/N nodded, grateful for her brother's support, even if she wasn’t ready to share her feelings. "Thank you, Thomas. Now, let’s focus on the journey ahead."

"Agreed," Thomas said, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

Y/N took his arm, and they made their way downstairs where their parents were waiting. As they stepped outside, she felt excited about the days to come. But also jealousy, which she never felt before in her life. She knew that it was none of her business what Benedict did or did not do. Nevertheless, she could not help herself feeling this way.

The journey to Aubrey Hall was filled with excitement and nostalgia. As their carriage approached the estate, memories of their childhood flooded Y/N’s mind. She felt a mix of eagerness and nervousness, wondering how much had changed. Still, there was a feeling Y/N couldn't shake away. The things that her brother told her about Benedict still haunted her. Benedict changed, she knew that for certain, but she really hoped that his feelings did not.

" It feels so strange to be back again," Thomas said, making Y/N turn to him. "It is like we have never left."

Her father nodded. "I get what you mean. It was like yesterday when you and Benedict were chasing Y/N and Daphne in the garden while Edmund and I were watching with a smile on our faces."

After mentioning the late Viscount, the eyes of your father started to fill with tears. He was in shock when the news came that Edmund passed away. It took him a few months to process the tragic loss of his closest friend. Y/N could not even imagine what Benedict went through.

"We all miss him terribly," your mother said, taking her husband's hand in hers. "But there is no need to sadden ourselves with the past. You will get to see Anthony as the new viscount. I'm sure he fitted the title well."

Your father smiled at his wife and kissed her hand. She always knew how to lift her spirits.

"Just like how Thomas will fit the title of the duke of Ashbourne well." Thomas rolled his eyes while Y/N and her parents started laughing.

"Believe me, father, that it will be years before I will get the title. You will live a long life with mama and your children and grandchildren by your side."

the funny banter between the Ashbourne family was not something new. They always have differed from the rest of the ton. There was no marriage pressure. The duke and duchess put the education of their children first, wanting nothing but happiness for them.

"Look, they have arrived!"

The Ashbourne carriage rolled to a stop in front of Aubrey Hall, the Bridgerton family waiting outside to greet their guests. The air was filled with anticipation and a touch of nostalgia as the two families prepared to reunite after so many years.

Lady Violet stepped forward with a warm smile. "Welcome, welcome!"

The Duke of Ashbourne, a distinguished gentleman with a friendly demeanor, was the first to step out, helping his elegant wife, the Duchess of Ashbourne, out of the carriage. Following them were Thomas and Y/N, who looked around with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"It’s wonderful to see you, Violet," the Duke said, embracing Lady Violet. "Thank you for having us."

"The pleasure is all ours," Lady Violet replied. "We’ve missed you terribly."

As the Ashbournes stepped out of the carriage, the Bridgerton children moved forward to greet them. Anthony, Colin, and Benedict engulfed Thomas in a warm embrace.

"Thomas, it’s been far too long," Anthony said, clapping him on the back.

"Indeed," Thomas replied, smiling. "It’s good to see you all."

Y/N followed, greeting each Bridgerton sibling with a warm smile and a hug, her demeanor friendly and welcoming. However, when she reached Benedict, her expression changed. She gave him a polite nod; her smile barely reaching her eyes.

When Benedict watched her getting out of the carriage, he only had one thought.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

Her blonde hair changed into a darker shade of brown, but her eyes were the same. They were still mirroring such beauty he wished he could draw. Her smile was still contagious, affecting him immediately with his own.

" Mr Bridgerton, it is good to see you. How have you been?"

Mr Bridgerton? Why was she so formal suddenly? Was she not as excited to see him as he was seeing her?

"Miss Y/L/N, It is great to see you too. I am well, thank you for asking, been quite busy with my paintings."

Y/N’s gaze turned icy. "So I’ve heard." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked straight inside, leaving Benedict standing there, bewildered.

As Benedict watched her retreating figure, he felt a pang of hurt and confusion. He glanced towards Thomas, who was already looking at him with a knowing look, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Sensing the tension in the air, Thomas was the first to speak. "Well, it is rather chilly out here. Let’s all follow my dear sister inside, shall we?"

The group laughed, the tension easing slightly as they followed Thomas into the grand entrance hall of Aubrey Hall.

As they made their way inside, the tension between Y/N and Benedict did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family. Lady Violet exchanged a concerned glance with the duchess while Anthony observed the interaction with a furrowed brow.

Once inside, they were led to the grand dining room, where a sumptuous feast awaited them. The grand dining room at Aubrey Hall was resplendent with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the elegantly set table.

The Duke of Ashbourne, seated beside Lord Anthony Bridgerton, raised his glass. “To old friends and new beginnings,” he toasted, his voice rich and warm.

The toast was met with a chorus of agreement and the clinking of glasses. As the first course was served, Lady Violet began the conversation. “William, Eleanor, how has your journey been so far? Any memorable adventures?”

Eleanor smiled, glancing at her children. “It’s been a wonderful experience. We’ve seen so many beautiful places, and the children have learned a great deal.”

“Indeed,” the Duke added. “Thomas and Y/N have taken to it splendidly. Y/N, in particular, has been quite inspired by the landscapes for her poetry.”

Lady Violet’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Poetry, Y/N? That’s marvelous. You must share some with us later.”

Y/N smiled politely. “Of course, my lady. I’d be happy to.”

As the conversation flowed, it eventually turned to the Bridgerton siblings. “Benedict,” the Duke said, turning his attention to the second eldest Bridgerton, “I hear you’ve made quite a name for yourself at the Academy.”

Benedict, who had been quietly observing Y/N, nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ve been fortunate to study under some very talented artists.”

Y/N, unable to suppress her irritation, interjected with a cool tone. “Including some very talented models, I’ve heard.”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Benedict’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Yes, we do work with models. It’s a necessary part of our training.”

The duchess, sensing the awkwardness, tried to steer the conversation back on track. “I’m sure the experience has been invaluable, Benedict. Art requires such dedication.”

Benedict nodded, but his eyes remained on Y/N. “It has been invaluable. Every aspect of it contributes to our growth as artists.”

Thomas, ever the peacemaker, chimed in. “Anthony told us about some of your work. It sounds quite impressive.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a tight smile. “Yes, very impressive. Especially the part where you managed to knock over an easel. Quite the spectacle, I hear.”

Benedict’s jaw tightened, and he glanced around the table, noting the concerned expressions of his family. “It was a mistake. One that was quickly rectified.”

Colin, trying to lighten the mood, laughed. “Well, Benedict has always had a flair for the dramatic.”

Eloise nudged her brother. “Perhaps a bit too much flair, at times.”

Laughter rippled around the table, but the underlying tension remained. Y/N felt a pang of guilt but was too stubborn to relent. She glanced at her brother, who gave her a pointed look, silently urging her to ease up.

Lady Violet, ever the gracious hostess, smoothly transitioned the conversation to more neutral topics, asking about the sights the Ashbourne family had visited and their future plans. The dinner continued, but the strained interactions between Y/N and Benedict cast a shadow over the evening.

As dessert was served, Lady Violet addressed Y/N directly. “Y/N, my dear, I’ve heard you play the pianoforte beautifully. Would you grace us with a performance after dinner?”

Y/N, grateful for the distraction, nodded. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

The meal concluded with polite conversation, but the tension lingered. Y/N excused herself to prepare for her performance, and as she left the dining room, she felt Benedict’s gaze on her, filled with a mix of hurt and confusion.

Later that evening, Y/N sat at the grand pianoforte in the drawing room, her fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. Heart filled with the hauntingly beautiful melody of a piece, she knew the room—Benedict's favorite.

The Bridgertons and Y/L/N's watched in silent admiration, but Benedict’s eyes never left Y/N. He was captivated, every note and every word pulling him deeper into the memories of their shared past. As the song drew to a close, Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and as the last note lingered in the air, a single tear slipped down her cheek. Across the room, Benedict’s own eyes misted over, a tear tracing a path down his face as well. The rest of the family exchanged knowing glances, sensing the intense, unspoken connection between the two.

Y/N stood, curtsied, and, with a polite smile, excused herself from the room, needing a moment alone to compose herself. As she walked down the dimly lit hallway, her heart ached with a mixture of regret and confusion.

Benedict, unable to bear the distance and misunderstanding any longer, quietly followed her into a room. “Y/N, wait,” he called softly.

She stopped but didn’t turn around, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Yes, Benedict?” Her voice was calm but strained.

He approached her cautiously, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Why are you treating me like this? What have I done to deserve your coldness?”

Y/N finally turned to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Benedict. I’ve been perfectly polite.”

Benedict shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been distant, cold. This isn’t like you. Please, tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it."

She crossed her arms defensively, her gaze piercing. “I don’t know what you’re imagining, but there’s nothing wrong. Perhaps you’re just seeing what you want to see.”

His frustration bubbled over, and he stepped closer, his voice low and intense. “This isn’t about what I want to see, Y/N. This is about what’s real. You’ve changed towards me, and I need to know why.”

She took a step back, her breath hitching. “It doesn’t matter, Benedict. Go back to your paintings and models. I could not care less."

His frustration turned to desperation, Benedict reached out and gently but firmly grasped her arm, pulling her back towards him. They stood face to face, the tension between them crackling with electricity. His voice was a murmur, filled with desperate longing. “But you do care, don't you? Why do you care, Y/N? Tell me.”

Her eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze making her heart race. She tried to look away, but he cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Y/N. Please.”

Her defenses crumbled, and she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t care. Why should I? What you do is your own concern.”

His grip on her arm tightened slightly, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned in closer. “You do care. I can see it in your eyes. In your big beautiful eyes. Why won’t you admit it?”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling with the effort of holding back her emotions. “Because it’s easier not to. Because admitting it means facing the truth.”

“What truth?” Benedict’s voice was a mere breath away, his lips inches from hers.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could no longer deny the truth to herself or to him. “That I never stopped caring about you, Benedict. That I’ve loved you since we were children, and the thought of you with someone else… it breaks my heart.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. “And I’ve loved you, Y/N. I’ve loved you every single day we’ve been apart.”

She closed her eyes, the tears finally spilling over. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I was a fool,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way. But I can’t keep it inside any longer.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world seemed to fade away as they poured all their longing and love into that one moment, finally allowing themselves to feel what they had denied for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. “No more secrets,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky but filled with hope.

“No more secrets,” Benedict promised, his eyes shining with love and determination.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other, the weight of their confessions lifting from their shoulders. The tension that had once filled the air was replaced with a sense of peace and newfound understanding.

Just then, a voice broke the silence. "Well, well, what do we have here?"

Y/N and Benedict sprang apart, startled, as Thomas stepped into the hallway. His expression was serious, his eyes locked on Benedict. Y/N's heart raced, fearing her brother's reaction.

"Thomas, I—" Y/N began, but Thomas held up a hand to silence her.

"I always knew I’d have to deal with this day," Thomas said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned his gaze to Benedict, who stood his ground, though a hint of apprehension flickered in his eyes. "Benedict Bridgerton, you have compromised my sister's honor. There’s only one way to settle this."

Y/N’s eyes widened in fear. "Thomas, please, don’t—"

Thomas continued, a stern look on his face. "We must duel."

The hallway fell silent, the tension thick in the air. Then, to Y/N's utter astonishment, Thomas’s serious expression broke into a wide grin, and he burst out laughing.

"I’m just kidding!" he exclaimed, clapping Benedict on the shoulder. "You should have seen your faces!"

Benedict let out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. "Thomas, you nearly gave us both a heart attack."

Y/N exhaled deeply, her heart still pounding. "Thomas, that wasn’t funny!"

"It was a little funny," Thomas said, still chuckling. "But really, everyone in the drawing room is waiting for you two. They’ve been hoping for this day for a long time."

Y/N and Benedict exchanged a glance, their relief mingled with the lingering rush of adrenaline.

Thomas gestured back towards the drawing room. "Come on, let’s not keep them waiting."

As they re-entered the room, the gathered family turned to look at them. Lady Violet and the duchess’s faces lit up with delight, and Daphne’s eyes sparkled with joy. The Duke of Ashbourne stood beside Lady Eleanor, his expression warm and approving. Anthony, Colin, Eloise, Gregory, and Hyacinth were also present, each showing various degrees of amusement and happiness.

"There you are!" Lady Violet said, her smile warm and knowing. "We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost."

"Come on," Colin said, grinning broadly. "Don't keep us waiting. Are you finally together or not?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed as she glanced at Benedict, who nodded, smiling. "Yes, we are," she said, her voice clear and steady.

Lady Eleanor’s face lit up even more. "Well, then, I think it’s safe to say we can start planning a wedding."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "Mama, it’s way too soon for that!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing even deeper.

The Duke of Ashbourne chuckled, patting Y/N's shoulder gently. "Your mother is just excited, dear. But we should let the young couple take their time."

Colin and Anthony, standing near the fireplace, exchanged a look and grinned. "Well, Benedict, looks like you’ve finally caught the eye of a Duke’s daughter," Colin teased.

"Always aiming high, aren’t you, brother?" Anthony added, his tone playful.

Benedict, his arm still around Y/N, beamed. "I guess I’ve always known what I wanted."

Daphne approached Y/N, embracing her warmly. "Welcome to the family, officially."

Y/N’s heart swelled with happiness. "Thank you, Daphne. I’m so glad to be here."

Eloise, ever the sharp-witted observer, smirked. "Well, it’s about time. I was beginning to think you two would never figure it out."

Gregory and Hyacinth, the youngest Bridgerton's, clapped excitedly. "Does this mean we get to have another party?" Gregory asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Hyacinth grinned. "I hope so! I love weddings!"

As the evening continued, the family celebrated the long-awaited union. Lady Violet and Lady Eleanor eagerly discussed wedding plans, while the Bridgerton brothers teased Benedict good-naturedly.

Thomas, watching the scene with a satisfied smile, caught Y/N’s eye and gave her an encouraging nod. She smiled back, her heart full.

Later, as the festivities wound down, Y/N and Benedict found a quiet moment together. He took her hand, his eyes full of love. "I meant every word I said earlier, Y/N. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She looked up at him, her heart brimming with emotion. "And I love you, Benedict. More than I can say."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "Let's always be together. Always."

"Agreed," she whispered, feeling the weight of the past lift away.

As they stood there, surrounded by family and love, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful future together.

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