#i don’t want anyone to come and take it from her i don’t want anyone to show her that being like that is wrong and weak | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 2 days

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HBCU CONFESSIONS.

Part Three

Valencia: You ready?

Erik: You wanna come down to my room? I’m almost finished, I just hopped out of the shower.

Valencia stood in front of a mirror propped up against her side of the dorm room. The idea of going to Erik’s room excited her. Biting down on her bottom lip, Valencia quickly typed a reply.

Valencia: Of course ☺️

She checked out her attire one last time. That yellow dress on her body was sure to have Erik’s attention. At least that’s what the blog said.

-Erik loves sundresses or anything showing off legs and hugging curves. Bonus points to bold colors that pop against brown skin ☺️

Valencia grabbed her black crossbody bag from her bed and she left her dorm room. She shut the door softly, waiting until a group of students talking closely together walked by. The RA dorm room was at the very end of the hall near the bathrooms. Valencia walked down the hall, keeping a lookout for anyone who would be spying on her. Not that anyone really gave a fuck. Rochelle was messing around with a few male students regularly.

Her footsteps came to a halt in front of his door. Valencia raised a fist and knocked with uncertainty. Valencia withdrew her hand and fiddled with her bag. She rocked back and forth on her heels, clicked her tongue, looked from one end of the hall to the other. The door opened and Erik peeked his head out, smirking at her. She could tell that he was trying to conceal himself. Was he—

“Come in.”

The door opened enough to let her in. Valencia’s eyes scanned the room first and then they landed on Erik. She had to close her mouth before she drooled down her chin. If there was a word to collectively describe how delicious he looked at the moment, Valencia would say it. His locs were flesh against his forehead. His skin was glistening and moisturized. He was shirtless with a single gold cross chain hanging between his pecs. His jeans hung low on his hips teasing her.

“I…hello.”

Erik chuckles, “Let me grab a T-shirt and we can head out, okay?”

“Uh-huh…”

Erik turned to grab a folded white T-shirt from his bed. He didn’t take his eyes off of Valencia as he pulled the T-shirt over his head. She peeled her eyes away to look around the room. She had to calm herself down because it was getting heated. Her skin was flushed, body temperature increased, breathing rapid. She noticed a pair of gold boots haphazardly placed in a corner near his closet.

“You ready?”

Valencia’s cafe noir eyes fell on Erik. He was fully dressed now, holding a denim jacket in his hand.

“I figured we could go to this bomb ass diner I found about a week ago. Best milkshakes I ever had.”

“Is it Macky’s Diner?”

“It is,” Erik smirked at her, “Damn…”

“Wha—what?”

“You. That’s what.”

Erik moved closer, literally standing over her to the point where he had to crane his neck. Valencia’s eyelids fluttered and she looked up at Erik through her lashes. She dropped her eyes to his lips, then his neck.

“This color on you…”

Valencia blushed, “You like it?”

“It’s one of my favorites.” Erik gave her a lop-sided grin.

His hand reached down to twirl one of her braids around his finger. Valencia’s sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed to Erik.

“You got some explaining to do, baby girl.” Erik said with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh,” Valencia giggles, “The picture…”

Erik tilted his head and looked at her.

“The one with your face down and ass up. Yeah, that picture.”

Valencia was shrinking beneath his gaze. A nervous feeling tickled her belly. She tried to come up with a remark in her head.

“No need to be all coy about it.” Erik laughs.

“I—I thought you might want to have something to look at when…when I’m not around. So you don’t forget about me.”

Her small voice, timid yet sexy eyes, and voluptuous lips had Erik in the strongest chokehold. He had the biggest crush on her in two days time.

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried.”

Erik’s hand reached past Valencia and turned the doorknob. Her beautiful smile at his words warmed his heart. Valencia turned her back towards Erik and he used his hand to hold the door open so she could walk out. She stood back and watched Erik shut and lock his door before they walked down the hall side by side.

The lounge area was surprisingly empty. They took the elevators down and Erik walked ahead to hold the door for Valencia. He shocked her by gripping her dainty hand in his much larger one. She looked from their hands to his face and nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip to fight the urge to smile hard. Holding his hand made he blush uncontrollably.

They finally made it to Erik’s car. He released Valencia’s hand to open the door for her. She lowered herself into the seat, the smell of mahogany teakwood filling her nose. The leather seats were warm against the back of her legs since his car was within a shaded area. It was clean inside minus a gym bag tossed in the backseat. She secured herself while Erik slipped into the drivers seat. When he turned on his car, the car vibrated from the music Erik was listening to on max. The Scotts by Travis Scott ft. Kid Cudi filled the interior of the all black Hellcat Challenger. Even in low throttle, the supercharge whine was the best automotive sound Valencia ever heard. She felt like she was in a race car.

Erik turned his music down a little, laughing at the expression on Valencia’s face. One hand whipping, Erik sat his other hand on Valencia’s thigh. Die Young by Roddy Ricch was next on Erik’s playlist. She loved trap music. Her own playlist would probably shock Erik. He started stroking her thigh and Valencia had to distract herself with fixing her hair in the mirror so she wouldn’t shudder.

“We’re five minutes away.” Erik said.

_________

They walked into the diner hand-in-hand. They came in at the best time. The hostess led them to a booth seat right next to the window. Valencia sat across from Erik and two seconds later, their waiter, a stout, curvy black woman with cropped curls came over to their table.

“Hello. What can I get you to drink?”

Erik stroked his soul patch down to his goatee in deep thought.

“I’ll do a cookies and cream milkshake. No Cherry with extra Oreo.”

“Okay. And you?”

“Can I have the same please? And a water.”

“I’ll have a water as well.” Erik added.

“Alright. I’ll be back with your drinks.”

The waiter sauntered away. Valencia scanned the diner, avoiding Erik’s gaze because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She placed a hand over her belly to calm the butterflies. She really needed to relax.

“Are you enjoying the date so far?” Erik questioned, breaking the ice.

Valencia finally looked at him. She gave him a warm smile.

“Yes. I’ve never been on a date before so…”

“Really?”

Erik furrowed his brows at her in disbelief.

“My ex before college never asked me. A guy I was talking to during my sophomore year stood me up. And Isaiah—that was a mistake. Pretty much no experience in what it would be like until now.”

Valencia shrank in her seat. She started overthinking again. Her inexperience probably turned him off. Once again, she was proven wrong.

“Here are your drinks…”

The waiter who Valencia recognized to be Pam from her name badge— she didn’t give them her name—sat their drinks down.

“Ready to order?” She clicked her pen.

Erik motioned for Valencia to go first. She was so distracted by Erik she hadn’t even looked the menu over. She opened her menu and skimmed.

“Okay…I’ll do a cheeseburger with french fries. Extra salt and pepper on the fries please.”

The waiter jotted that down and turned her eyes onto Erik.

“I’ll do the same but make it a double cheeseburger.”

Both of them handed their menus over. Pam walked away to put their orders in.

“…To respond to what you said, they didn’t deserve you. I’m happy to be your first date though.”

Erik smirked at her causing his dimples to pop.

“…And don’t feel ashamed of your inexperience. Ever.”

“Thank you,” Valencia hunched her shoulders and blushed.

“You’re a swimmer? I noticed the bathing suit you had on beneath your shorts today had the school logo on it.”

“I do! I’m on the swim team. Swimming is a real passion of mine. I’m not looking to go pro or anything like that. I’m amongst a few family members of mine who can actually swim.”

Erik nodded his head, “I love to swim myself. Haven’t been in a while. I used to go night swimming in the pool at TSU. I was cool with the coach at the time. Now, since I’m a TA, I can just badge right in.”

“Hm,” Valencia drew in a slow breath, “What else do you like to do?”

Erik looked away and down at his hands on the table he smirked to himself.

“I really enjoy poetry. I used to write my own and recite it at Poetry Live. Most of my work is sexual. Anyone can talk dirty, but there’s an art to painting erotic images in another’s mind…”

Valencia didn’t know if there was even a kink to describe what Erik was explaining to her. If it is, she may have discovered a new kink of hers. She rested her chin into her hand and focused on him.

“…Whether it’s my warm voice whispering into someone’s ear, or amplified. Through words I can arouse a reader. I just think that’s powerful.”

Silence filled the space between them while they enjoyed their shake. Erik licked his lips and then he started talking again.

“Words may be primitive shapes, or puffs of spoken air, but a mind can transform them into a force of thrilling potency. It imbues them with a sexual power. Our mighty mental engines are voracious, they yearn for novelty, new instructions to drive the looms of our imagination to weave stunning new patterns…”

Valencia gawked at Erik. He chuckled.

“I can be very eloquent when I choose to be.”

“I can see that,” Valencia giggles.

The waiter returned with their food. Valencia’s eyes widened at the portions. She wasn’t going to finish all of that. Erik and her reached for the ketchup at the same time. They both laughed and then Erik passed her the ketchup first. Valencia ate her fries while thinking of something risky to do to tease Erik. She was taking advice from the blog earlier after sharing that she would be going on a lunch date.

-You should tease him some more. Maybe eat your food in a sexy way. Slow, make noises.

Valencia grabbed a fry and when Erik glanced over at her she bit down on her fry slowly, drawing it into her mouth with her tongue. Erik rolled his lips, his dimples deep in his cheeks.

“Mm, that is so good,” Valencia closed her eyes, “Mmm…I love French fries.”

“I can tell.” Erik laughs.

Valencia paused, a nervous chuckle escaping her mouth. She sat her fry down and rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Remind me to never do that again, she thought.

“So, how long have you had a thing for me?”

Valencia darted her eyes across the table at Erik like she’d been caught. Erik laughed with all his teeth.

“What makes you think I have a thing for you?” Valencia quipped.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Erik spoke sarcastically, “The constant blushing. The way you can’t even look me in the eye.”

Valencia rolled her eyes. She looked away and back to her food.

“How long?”

“Months…”

She swirled a french fry in ketchup.

“I wish I would have known. I’m glad I do now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m feeling you too. I’ve seen you around campus. I’ve peeped you out for a while now.”

“…what?”

Valencia gave Erik an incredulous look.

“Yeah. Might as well throw it out there. I didn’t wanna make it obvious because I saw you with Isaiah. I didn’t think you were available. Probably thought I was too old for you or some shit…”

Valencia could not believe it. Erik had been interested in her this entire time?

“Are you being serious?”

Erik chuckled.

“Erik?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. Why would you think that I wouldn’t? You’re gorgeous.”

Valencia turned her face away, giggling. She covered her mouth to contain her laughter. They went back to eating their food and the entire time, Erik would look over at her and Valencia would look up at him. Her foot brushed against Erik’s beneath the table and she held her breath when Erik did the same to her but intentionally. Valencia clenched her thighs together to calm the throbbing between her legs.

“I was thinking we could hit up this black-owned library before going back to campus. Is that cool?”

Valencia bobbed her head, “I’m down.”

_________

Ding.

The bell alerted to their arrival. Valencia loved the smell of a library. It’s a combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness. A customer slipped past them after purchasing a book. The cashier looked up at them and gave them a welcoming smile.

“I’m Simone. Let me know if you need anything.”

Erik and Valencia thanked her. Everything was neatly placed and organized. Hand in Erik’s, he led her to the back of the library, and between two stacks beneath a low ambiance.

“This is where I find the best poetry.”

Erik released her hand and he walked up to the shelf to his left first. His thick, pointer finger moved from book-to-book. Valencia followed him, her eyes scanning the books. There was one sticking out from its spot so she paused, grabbling it from in between just so she could read the front cover.

“Verbal Stimulation: An Intimate Collection of Poetry. Sounds promising.” Valencia whispered.

Erik turned towards Valencia. He studied the front cover of the book.

“I’ve read this one…actually, I think I may have this…”

Valencia handed him the book. Erik opened it, turning the pages a few times before he found one that he really liked. Valencia leaned her shoulder against the shelf, veering closer to Erik. He cleared his throat and his voice took on a much lower timbre.

“i like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

i like your body. i like what it does,

i like its hows. i like to feel the spine

of your body and its bones,and the trembling

-firm-smooth ness and which i will

again…and again…and again

kiss, i like kissing this and that of you.”

Erik looked down at Valencia and a smile slowly crept up his lips.

“E.E. Cummings. He writes a lot of erotically charged love poetry celebrating self-love and the excitement of a love affair.” Erik informed Valencia.

“I liked that one.” She replied with a hushed tone and tempting eyes.

Erik placed the book back on the shelf and they continued down the aisle. His footsteps paused again when he’d noticed another book.

“This one is Pablo Neruda. One of his books…”

“Can you read to me again?” Valencia pleaded.

Erik gave her a once over with a smirk. He opened the book to the first poem.

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.”

The more he recited poetry to her, the more her panties grew wet. Erik noticed, and he inched closer to Valencia. She placed her back against the shelf and Erik loomed closer, his chest almost touching hers.

“Isaiah called you poet…”

Erik’s eyes danced over her face. Valencia’s eyelids fluttered.

“We have nicknames. Poet is one of my nicknames. My brothers know that I’m a man of words. They used to crack jokes until they realized that my words had an effect on women. They didn’t have much to say then.”

Valencia tucked her chin and quietly giggled.

“Well, I like the nickname,” Valencia looked up at Erik shyly, “Can I call you Poet?”

“If you want,” Erik licked his lips, “You can call me anything you want…”

Erik’s face drew closer to Valencia’s. She released a shaky breath. A tickle crept over her skin when he pressed his lips against her ear.

“I have another one I think you’ll like. It’s one of my favorites…”

“O—Okay,” Valencia shivered.

“Like one slutty little horny slave

listening to her master.. she behaves

he mind keeping hidden what she craves

one hard black dick her pussy loving raves…”

Valencia closed her eyes. Her hands came up to rest on Erik’s chest. She could feel his hands on her waist now. He drew circles with his fingertips, eliciting a whimper.

“I want to unleash on to you

Not out of love but because you know how to receive

Teeth digging into your fair fragile skin, rupturing

I feel hunger ever more

Your little wet mouth lingering in obedience yet I strike with punishment

Feeling your breath withdraw under the pressure of my hand wrapped around your throat…”

His hands leisurely smoothed up her waist until his hands were flush against her back. Valencia slowly opened her eyes and Erik was staring down at her through his gold-rimmed glasses. Her glossy, full lips parted slightly and her eyes focused on his mouth as he recited erotic poetry to her.

“The sight of her makes my mouth drool

So tempting, so irresistible

I take her in my arms

I lick my lips in anticipation

Pulling back the cover

I gaze at her pretty pussy

I can’t wait to taste her pretty pussy

The flavor of her arousal so deeply embedded on my appendage.”

Valencia’s chest heaved up and down, her breasts pushing against Erik’s chest. Now, they were playing into her size kink. The way he crowded her space with his much bigger and stronger body made her phat pussy quiver. Erik used one hand to stroke her chin with his thumb while the other now took its place on her ass.

“Did you like that?” He whispered.

“Yes…”

Erik dropped his onyx eyes down to her lips. His top lip twitched slightly with anticipation to taste her juicy mouth.

“You have the most beautiful lips…”

“So do you.”

Erik smirked at her and then he inched closer. Valencia titled her chin up and closed her eyes. The moment his plump lips graced her full lips, a spark ignited within her. Her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders. She stood on her tip toes in her sandals. Erik wrapped a single arm around her waist. Their heads tilted to the left, both of their plump bottom lips sinking into each other like wet cushions. Erik sucked her lower lip into his mouth and dragged his teeth over it before using his tongue to trace the inside of her lip.

Valencia moaned softly into his mouth. Her dress hiked up beneath her ass, almost exposing her black thong. Their lips made moist, smacking noises. Both tongues hot and wet. Erik’s other hand squeezed Valencia’s buns, so much that her pussy opened up. The cool air of the library against her heated pussy caused her to moan.

“Mmmm…”

It was a mixture of a whimper and a moan. The sexiest fucking sound Erik had ever heard. He broke their kiss and his eyes scanned her body.

“That pussy wet?” He asked with a husky voice.

She nodded her head with a pout of her lip.

“Tell me that pussy wet…”

He dragged his tongue over her tongue.

“Tell daddy that pussy wet, baby…”

“…Daddy…my pussy is so wet…”

Valencia’s face was hot. She’d never been talked to like that. Ever. She couldn’t even believe she said it. Erik’s hand sat beneath the under cuff of her left cheek and he made it jiggle. She pressed her face against his chest, her shyness something she was unable to control.

“Can I touch that wet pussy?” He whispered.

Valencia nodded her head again, unable to meet his gaze. Erik didn’t force her to say it this time, only because he was so anxious to see and feel that wet puss for himself. He hadn’t been this excited and aroused in a long time. Valencia turned her back towards Erik and poked her butt out against his crotch.

Erik looked both ways to make sure there wasn’t anyone lurking. He could hear voices so he needed to make this quick. Erik brought a hand around and between her legs. The temperature there made him groan against her hair. Valencia braced herself on the shelf in front of her. Erik started off by stroking her pussy lips up and down through her panties. There was a heated damp spot right in between as if her panties were sitting right in the middle of her phat lips.

Using his middle finger, eyes still looking around, Erik stroked from the top of her pussy, all the way to the back. He did it a few more times before he pinched her pussy lips between his fingers. Valencia’s forehead fell forward and she quietly moaned. Erik did it again. His dick was twitching. He flicked her pussy lips with his fingers and in his mind he couldn’t believe how phat her pussy was.

“Damn, Valencia…”

Erik carefully slipped the crotch of her thong to the side. Valencia inhaled. They sat perfectly to the side and Erik didn’t waste time touching her. When the flesh of his fingers graced the flesh of her bald pussy, Erik exhaled a longing breath. He took his time stroking her outer lips. She had inner folds that poked out between her outer lips. Like a pretty flower. He was shocked when he’d noticed that she had a clit piercing.

“You got your clit pierced?” Erik whispered, his tone laced with shock and arousal.

Valencia chewed on her bottom lip.

“That’s not what I expected at all,” Erik chuckles.

“It’s a VCH. I got it a year ago—”

Erik used his fingers to spread her pussy open wide. He fingered her clit and Valencia almost shouted. He flicked her clit non-stop, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She had to bite down hard on her lip to control herself. He then used his middle and ring finger to circle her clit.

“Uhhhhh…”

Valencia almost pulled books from the shelves. Her inner thighs quaked. She could feel her nipples harden.

“Erik…”

“You’re right baby girl…this pussy is wet…”

Erik massaged her clit over and over and since it was so quiet in the library, Erik could hear her pussy making creamy noises.

“That pussy talking now…fuck…”

“It feels so good…” Valencia spoke with a hushed tone.

The smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body against her back had her dripping.

“I wanna feel it deeper, baby…”

She knew what he meant. She was a little nervous because all the times she’d been fingered by her ex, she never enjoyed it and always avoided it. Valencia relaxed her body, but her heart was racing. Two of Erik’s fingers sat at her entrance. She stilled her body with anticipation, gaining the courage to look back at Erik. The second her cafe noir eyes met his, those thick fingers were pushing up inside of her.

“Oh my gosh…”

He sank his fingers deep. He started stroking her spot.

“Daddy—”

Erik placed a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Her ass pressed into his crotch and she writhed against him. The sound of her pussy was so loud and obnoxious.

“You’re making too much noise…I know it feels good, baby, but you gotta stay quiet…”

The way he fingered her made her fall in love. He knew where to touch and stroke. She was clenching around his fingers. Uncontrollably. She could feel herself dripping down her inner thighs. His hand must be soaked. It had to be with the way he easily went in and out. His wrist didn’t get tired. His fingers didn’t cramp up. She mumbled something against his hand but her words were lost on him.

“This pussy is deep and fuckin’ wet…you lovin’ this shit…my mouth is drooling…”

Erik had to bite down on his lower lip. She gripped his fingers again and he could see her eyes crossing.

“I’m…”

She hung her head and pressed her face into her arm. Erik’s fingers sloshed in and out of that wet fucking pussy and when she climaxed it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She fell back against him, reaching behind her to grip his arms. Her knees almost buckled and a thin layer of sweat made her mocha skin glisten. Erik’s fingers carefully withdrew from her pussy. Even though her panties were pushed to the side, the amount of creamy goodness that came from her stained them.

Erik looked down at his hand and his fingers were dripping wet and creamy. He could smell her pheromones, the scent of her pussy wafting his nose. She smelled amazing. Erik loved the smell of freshly fucked, horny, wet pussy. Bonus points if it’s clean, well taken care of pussy. Valencia turned and braced herself against the shelf. She stared up at Erik through her lashes with low, wanton eyes.

“You made a big ass mess…”

Valencia watched Erik suck on his fingers. He cleaned them off like it was a sweet treat. Her mouth dropped open in shock. He licked between his fingers, the palm of his hand, and sucked on his own lips to get any remnants of her onto his tongue. All while looking at her intently.

“Mm,” Erik licked his lips again, “You taste amazing.”

“T—Thank you.”

Come here so you can taste it…”

He curled his finger for her to come to him. She tilted her chin up.

“Stick your tongue out…”

Valencia did as she was told. Erik touched tongues with her and then they french kissed. Valencia whimpered into his mouth. She’d never tasted herself before. This was the nastiest thing and she loved it. Erik drew back to stare her in the eyes. He was so horny. His dick was fat and long between his legs.

“Take your panties off.” Erik commanded.

He wasn’t asking, he was telling.

“Right here?”

Erik chuckled, “You let me play in your pussy right here, didn’t you?”

Valencia giggled. He had a point.

“Okay…”

She slipped her hands beneath her dress. Valencia pulled her thong down and stepped out of it. She held her panties out in her palm for Erik. He snatched them and balled them up before placing it inside of his pocket.

“Mine…”

What was he going to do with fhem? Valencia felt a little self conscious. Used panties? Erik could sense her nervousness.

“Thank you for letting me touch you like that.”

Erik kissed her cheek softly. She smiled up at him and swayed from side to side.

“Thank you for making me fall in love with fingering. I’ve avoided it for so long because I didn’t like it when my ex would do it…he made it hurt.”

“It’s never supposed to hurt, ma. That nigga didn’t know what he was doing.”

Erik stroked her cheek with the side of his finger. She was so precious. It made him feel good that he was her first date and first great finger-fucking partner.

“I’ll show you what it’s like anytime you want. Whatever you want, I’ll show you. You have my number…”

Valencia swooned at his words. Erik couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her one last time before they left with one of his favorite poetry books for her to read. When the both of them appeared at the front of the store again, Valencia expected the cashier to mention how they’ve been gone for so long, but surprisingly enough, she simply smiled knowingly at them.

“Find everything okay?”

“Yes,” Erik replied.

She rung them up and they left hand-in-hand back to the dorms.

_________

Back at the dorms, Erik and Valencia stopped in front of her dorm room. She hesitated to enter, and Erik was reluctant to leave. The car ride over, Valencia would catch glimpses of Erik smelling his fingers. The reason for that is because his fingers found their way between her legs again. He’d only done it so he could smell and taste her. It was the most primal thing she’d ever seen. The recollection of her thong in his pocket turned her on and she pictured him smelling her panties. He even questioned if her STD panel was up to date and how often she got tested. Very mature and necessary considering the amount of unsafe sexual activity going on. They exchange info and that was the final green light to go further. And boy was Valencia thrilled about that.

“I’m not gonna lie…I wanna eat your pussy.”

His boldness was too much. She hid her face behind her hands, only for Erik to move her hands away.

“Your dorm or mines?”

Erik quirked a brow at her. He was dead serious.

“Uhm…we should go to yours. Only because I don’t know if Brielle is in there or not…”

“Smart.” Erik said.

He grabbed Valencia by the hand and led her down the hall. They made it to his room and he unlocked the door. They slipped inside quickly and Valencia sat down on his bed while Erik shut the door. He told her to get comfortable so she removed her sandals. She couldn’t believe this was about to happen. If Valencia had ever created a list of things she’d never done or things she’d had bad experiences with, pussy eating would be one of them. Her ex had little to no experience with it and Valencia didn’t care much for it. Isaiah was flat out terrible at it. So far, Erik had proven to her that he could easily change her mind so she wasn’t worried about his pussy eating skills. With a mouth like that, he better be a pussy monster.

The walls in the dorms are thin. Erik decided to put on a playlist of his from the TV in the dorm. He opened Apple Music and found a random rap song for background noise. One she hadn’t heard of but the beat was good. It was definitely something she would shake her ass to. Erik sat his jacket down and kicked off his shoes. Valencia watched him pull his shirt over his head and his abs flexed. One thing for sure, Isaiah has a nice body, but he wasn’t touching Erik.

He walked over to Valencia and climbed onto the bed. She backed up towards his pillow and giggled when he pounced her. They started off with a make out session again. Valencia opened her legs and rubbed her inner thighs along Erik’s waist. His kisses trailed down her neck while his hands pushed her knees back. He sat up on his knees and then his eyes dropped down to admire her pussy. It was smooth, wet, and phat. Pretty chocolate with a pink center. The VCH piercing popped against her flesh.

“The prettiest pussy.” Erik praised.

“Thank you,” Valencia looked away.

“Aight, rule number one, don’t look away while I eat it…”

“Yes sir,” She replied.

“Rule number two, don’t push my head away. I hate that shit. You want it, you take it.”

That scared her. Valencia didn’t know what she was in for.

“Lay back…”

Valencia relaxed against his pillow. She looked down at him, watching him lay flat against his abs. He kept her thighs pushed back and then without further ado, his tongue licked a long trail up her pussy. Valencia’s mouth opened. She locked eyes with Erik and he spread her lips before doing the same thing with his tongue to her inner folds. She curled her toes and fought to shut her eyes.

“Fuck,” She whispered.

This was a real challenge. Keeping eye contact while his tongue flicked, twirled, and glided all over her clit. He knew how to work that tongue on areas she didn’t know could feel so good. He made sure each spot got equal attention.

“Fuck, you taste so damn good…”

“Mhm,” Valencia nibbled on her bottom lip.

Erik planted kisses on her clit before those same lips started softly sucking. Valencia took in a sharp breath. Erik flicked his eyes up at her and then they rolled shut. Valencia threw her head back. Her legs were shaking like she had Parkinson’s. When he released her clit, they both stared at how stiff and swollen it was. This is the moment when Valencia knew she was in trouble. The VCH piercing made her clit extra sensitive. That’s why every time she used her vibrator, she could never last. Two minutes into masturbating and she was cumming.

Erik flicked her clit just a little and Valencia’s body jerked like she was doused with cold water.

“It’s too sensitive—”

Erik wasn’t trying to hear that. He started sucking again. His sucking this time was more like french kisses. Slurping sounds filled the room. He forced her thighs back harder now. He gave her another break, her clit popping out of his mouth.

“You gotta take it. Don’t keep this pussy away from me.”

His voice was huskier and it had Valencia in a trance.

“Okay, daddy.” She replied with a small voice.

He went back to munching. Valencia moaned loudly. The sweetest moans. She fought to close her thighs despite Erik’s words. Her body seizes and she clawed at the sheets. Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head.

“Unh! Uhhhnnnn!”

She climaxed. Valencia couldn’t believe how hard she’d cum. He finally came up for air. His beard was soaked. Pupils dilated, he looked like a pussy eating savage. Valencia sat up and stared between her legs. She’d never known that her pussy could tremble but she watched it in real time. One look at Erik and she knew he wasn’t finished.

“Mm,” Valencia whimpered.

“Turn over and put that ass in the air.”

She moved towards the center of the bed and arched her back deep like she did in that photo. Erik stood behind her, shaking his head at how fucking beautiful her wide open pussy and ass looked from the back. Valencia peeked back at him. They locked eyes and then Erik whacked her ass with both hands. She flinched and moaned. He jiggled her cheeks while spreading them at the same time.

“This my pussy to play wit’ now. I better not find out you giving this up, hear me?”

“Yes, daddy.” Valencia replied.

“I’m not joking, girl…”

She knew he wasn’t. His tone alone told her that. And why would she? He’s the best she ever had.

Erik got down behind her and started slurping her from behind. The position and the way he did it felt more intense for Valencia. She curled her lower legs up and went flat against the bed, reaching behind to hold her ankles. Erik slapped her cheeks before continuing his feast. She moaned into the bed.

“Yes, daddy,” Valencia cried.

She started moving her hips with the motion of his eating. She felt her body shake out of control and she couldn’t hold her ankles any longer. Valencia moaned on a loop, falling onto her side on the bed. Erik tilted his head and ate that pussy from the side. She held her thigh back and pressed her face into her knee. She was shaking out of control.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” Valencia begged.

“Mm-mm,” Erik hummed into her pussy.

She felt herself squirt a little and Erik licked that up. His tongue would push inside of her, his lips would suck whatever he could, his saliva mixed with her juices added a sensation mixed with heat. It was amazing.

“So good…I…so good…I’m cummin’…I’m cummin…”

She almost closed Erik’s head between her thighs. He finally stopped and the visual with his messy locs and wet face was beyond sexy. Valencia rolled over onto her back and covered her face with her arm. Erik stood up and his jeans were hanging low on his hips. Valencia moved her arm away from her eyes and she stared openly at his print. What was he holding back in those jeans? A python? He was big. She sat up on her knees and reached out a hand to stroke him. Valencia gripped him and squeezed. That elicited a grunt from Erik.

“I can return the favor.” Valencia said.

“As much as I would love you to, I have to get ready for tonight…”

Time was lost on her. She hadn’t realized how late it was. Valencia tried to hide her disappointment but Erik caught her face in his grip and forced her to look up at him.

“I promise. Daddy will give you this dick tonight, baby. After the party, okay? I promise.”

Erik kissed her lips and Valencia stood up to fix herself. She still had to figure out what she was going to wear tonight and it always took her forever to do her makeup. She also needed another shower. Erik helped her with her shoes and then he walked her to the door. He grabbed her by the hand one last time, pulling her into another kiss. Valencia smiled against his mouth.

“I’ll see you later, aight?” Erik said.

“Okay.”

She waved goodbye and left his dorm room. Walking down the hall, Valencia squealed. This was probably the best day of her life so far. At her dorm, she opened the door and found Brielle sitting on her bed on her lap top.

“Where have you been all day?” Brielle pestered.

“Went for lunch, got some fresh air, that’s all…”

Valencia was happy that whatever had Brielle’s attention stopped her from noticing the big, goofy grin on her face.

“This blog is hilarious! Listen to this…I’m fucking my professor for an A in his class. He got me pregnant. I don’t want an abortion, but he has a wife and kids. The sad truth is, I know he wouldn’t leave his wife for me even though he complains about her having wack pussy. I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s wild! What school?”

“Morgan State.” Brielle replied.

_________

A Delta is, whatta AKI ain't. What a Zeta wanna be and whatta Sigma can't. What a Alpha likes, whatta Kappa loves. and whatta a Que Psi Phi can't get enough of. THAT IS A DELTA!!!!

Delta Sigma Theta kicked it off with their stroll through fhe party. Andrea lead the way proudly. Knuck if You Buck filled the party and everyone had their phones out recording the ladies. Body rolling and hands forming a pyramid. Their competitive chant had the other sororities, like AKA, dismissing them and rolling their eyes. The Kappas wolf-whistled, The Alphas watched with proud stances, and the Omegas shouted.

“Get it Get it.”

“AYE! AYE!”

“That’s right!”

The room was packed from wall to wall. It smelled like weed and sweat. Valencia took her place as a wall flower, dressed in a sparkly bandu with black high waisted jeans. She accessorized with large silver hoops and a layered chain necklace. Her braids were down her back and her face was beat to the gods. She added body glitter as a final touch to draw the look together. Brielle and Skai were on the dance floor, grinding all over each other. Cindy was there with her boyfriend who is a Kappa, chatting with him closely with drinks in their hands.

Dior was standing with the AKA’s she’s an AKA just like her sister Jeanette. It was too crowded to try and watch them do their entrance so Valencia stood back and waited for Erik to do his thing. The crowd erupted when AKA took over.

“SKEE-WEE!!! SKEE-WEE!!!!”

Valencia could see them a little from where she stood.

“A-L-P-H-A

K-A-P-P-A

A-L-P-H-A

Whooo those AKA's

An Ahhka is what a Delta ain't

What a Zeta couldn't

What a SGRho can't

What the Kappas like

What the Ques love

What APhiA can't get enough of us!!!!”

“Valencia, you okay?”

Cindy tapped her shoulder, startling Valencia. It was so loud she could hardly hear Cindy.

“I’m okay! You know how I get with crowds!”

“You wanna grab a drink?!”

That sounded good to Valencia. She nodded her head and grabbed Cindy’s hand. She led the way over to the open bar stock piled with alcohol. Valencia asked for a mixed drink with tequila. The bartender whipped something up for her and she sampled it to see if she liked it. It was strong but very good. Now that they were standing by the bar, Valencia could watch. The Zeta’s were doing their thing now.

“The men, the men, of Black and Gold

1-9-0-6 too cold, too cold

They came to a Zeta and they said to me

They said, ‘I’ll never be as COLD as a Z Phi B.’

The men, the men, of KAPsi

Phi Nu Pi ’til the day that they die

They came to a Zeta and they said to me

They said, ‘I’ll never be as PRETTY as a Z Phi B

The men, the men, of Q Psi Phi

Down dirty dogs ’til the day that they die

They came to a Zeta and they said to me

They said, ‘I’ll stop being NASTY for a Z Phi B!!!”

They performed a choppa style stroll that went so hard Valencia had to cheer them on. Her mother begged her to be a Zeta but she wasn’t interested in pledging.

“ALRIGHT LADIES!!!! LET THESE MEN DO THEIR THANG!”

The Que Dogs stepped up. They all wore skull masks in their colors to conceal their faces so Valencia didn’t know which one Erik was.

“FUCK IT UP!!!!”

Down in the valley, woh ohh ohh ohh!

There is a place that I long to go!

The name of this place rings in my ear!

Omega, Omega, Omega, Omegaaaaaaa!

Land of the Purple and the Gooooold ohhh!

Land of the Purple and the Gold!

They marched up with heavy stomps and enter-linked arms. The room was filled with flashlights from cellphones.

I kNEW THIS GIRL! (bruhs say Yeah)

SHE DATED AN ALPHA! (yeah)

HE BOUGHT HER A HOUSE! (yeah) HE BOUGHT HER A HOUSE!(yeah)

THE SAME GIRL! (yeah)

SHE DATED A SIGMA! (yeah)

HE BOUGHT HER A CAR! (yeah) HE BOUGHT HER A CAR! (yeah)

THE SAME GIRL! (yeah)

SHE DATED A KAPPA! (yeah)

HE BOUGHT HER A BLOAT! (yeah) HE BOUGHT HER A BOAT! (yeah)

THAT SAME GIRL! (yeah)

SHE DATED A QUE! (yeah)

HE GOT HER THE HOUSE, THE CAR, THE BOAT; AND THE PUSSY TOO! AND IM GON’ AIGHT! AIGHT! AND IM GONE AIGHT! AIGHT!

Valencia clapped and cheered with a big smile on her face. She recognized that voice. It had to be Erik leading that chant.

They circled each other, barking and howling. It was a turn on for sure. They finally removed their masks and tossed them to the side. Seeing Erik perform had Valencia feeling extra giddy.

The charismatic dance that included jumping, splits, torquing bodies in the air — it’s called “hopping” — is a very athletic show that requires extensive practice to get the mostly synchronized routines down. Those are the videos that pop up on social media, the group breaking out in a routine in the middle of a crowd. The bent just-so elbows and hands pointed at a specific angle — the pose to signify an Omega — that’s what overwhelmed the crowd. The tongue featured in nearly all of those photos — sticking out at odd angles, hanging down — that’s because people in the fraternity consider themselves “dogs.” Atomic Dogs.

The way Erik led the stroll had Valencia stunned. She wasn’t the only woman that felt that way. When they finished, the applause surrounding them was deafening. Erik dabbed up his brothers excitedly and even when they finished, they continued to bark and stick their tongues out savagely. That same tongue that was licking her pussy earlier. Erik scanned the crowd and he spotted Valencia. He made his way over towards her, Cindy watching with nosy eyes.

“Did you like our stroll?!”

“YEAH!” Valencia shouted.

“You look amazing,” Erik pulled her in, “You gon’ have all my attention now…”

Cindy gave her friend a look before slipping away to watch her man do his thing. Andrea cheered and jumped up and down when James stepped up to perform with his Kappa brothers. Erik stood behind Valencia with his arms wrapped around her waist while they watched. Valencia sipped from her solo cup, the tequila already making her tipsy. She scanned the room and noticed Dior and her older sister, Jeanette, watching her with hard eyes. Valencia gave them a strange look before Erik distracted her with his lips on her neck.

What is a nupe? Is it a name understood by few, used by many,and respected by all? Is a NUPE a man of Kappa third, a "son" Diggs second and a child of God first? Is a NUPE a Greek Step Shower, a Lady Mind Blower, and a Pretty Ass Bow Thrower? it is also ever man dreams to become one and every woman desire to have one beside her! It's what a Alpha wanna be and a Que Dawg aint. It's what a Sigma try to be and what an Iota aint.!! YO YO!

Erik threw up a fist to cheer his friend on. Others joined in as well. They finished and the Alphas did their thing. Valencia downed the rest of her drink and asked for a refill while Erik was on his second drink of the evening. He was drinking on Hennessy mixed with Hypnotic. A drink he said was nicknamed ‘Incredible Hulk’. When they finished their strolls, the party commenced.

The tequila gave Valencia some courage. She was bent over with her cup in her hand, shaking her ass on Erik’s crotch. He had his cup in one hand and his other hand on her spine, guiding her. He would roll his hips so she could feel his bulge. They weren’t the only ones getting down. D9 parties are known to be wild. Sex-filled and rowdy.

“Let me get you another drink…”

Valencia didn’t need another one but she agreed. Two drinks in and she was feeling loose. Erik disappeared with her cup and Valencia waited. Someone bumped her shoulder hard and she stumbled in her heels. A random girl with a big natural fro helped her and they both looked towards the direction of who did it. Valencia noticed Jeanette giving her a dirty look.

“BITCH!” Valencia yelled.

“What the fuck is her problem?” The girl questioned angrily.

“I don’t even know that bitch!”

One thing about Valencia, she can throw hands. Don’t let her shyness fool you. Erik returned with her drink and noticed the rage on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Some stupid bitch bumped me on purpose. I don’t even know this chick…”

Erik searched the room. Valencia took her drink and Erik leaned down to kiss her lips.

“I’ll be fine.” Valencia said.

“Come dance with me…”

They went to the dance floor again and her ass was on him again. Erik held her hand up while she expertly whined her hips. They locked eyes and Erik bit his lip at her. She loved seeing him in his glasses, but when he didn’t wear them she could really get a good look at his eyes. Dark and sexy. Erik pulled her up and he started touching all over her openly.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in here…so damn fine.”

Valencia blushes.

“Thank you, My Poet.”

“YA’LL READY TO GET NASTY?!!!”

“Ahhh shit,” Erik noticed his line brothers approaching him, “Here y’all niggas go!”

Valencia stepped to the side, laughing at Erik trying to fight off his friends playfully.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea and the woman that bumped Valencia started to perform for Erik. Erik looked her up and down with amusement. Valencia looked between them both, her smile replaced with a look of annoyance. The chick got up in Erik’s face and hopped up, wrapping her legs around him. The room got loud and wild. Valencia was almost knocked down. Granted, Erik wasn’t her man officially, but who the fuck did she think she was? Erik laughed and the sight of him laughing pissed Valencia off. He put her down and the bitch kissed him. Valencia turned to walk back to the bar. She was livid.

Valencia sat her cup down and shook her head. She tried to calm down. Maybe she was over exaggerating. She walked away so fast, she probably missed Erik telling the chick off. But still, it hurt a little. Valencia knew all too well about being cheated on and played with. It happened to her twice. If she was going to give Erik a chance, he needed to be honest and not lead her on.

“Valencia…”

She turned and came face to face with Dior.

“What is your girls problem?!” Valencia argued.

Dior snorted a laughter.

“That’s my sister Jeanette. I heard from Skai that you had a crush on him…too bad he’s not available, sis.”

“Let me guess, he’s dating your sister?”

“Yeah, pretty fucking much. That’s his ex. They broke up because he was going to the military. Now that he’s back, they’re tryna connect again.”

Valencia glared at Dior. She didn’t believe any of it.

“Don’t believe me? Go ask him then.”

Valencia looked towards the crowd She hesitated before turning her eyes back towards Dior.

“Why the fuck are you even telling me this? Because if it’s to piss me off it’s definitely working.” Valencia quipped.

“I just thought you should know. Better sooner than later, right? How would you feel if you found out about it later?”

“Girl, please. I can see right through you. I don’t want Isaiah, so why are you so mad? Give it up.”

Valencia walked away. She had to before she did something reckless. Plus, it wasn’t worth it. Erik wasn’t her man and she wasn’t going to fight over him. She’ll simply walk away, no big deal. One thing for certain, Valencia can move on and never look back.

She left that party as fast as she could.

_________

Fresh face and in pajamas, Valencia sat at the desk in her dorm, the only light coming from her laptop. The tequila had given her a headache. She massaged her temples while ignoring her phone. Erik had called and texted her, wondering where she was. She was in her feelings honestly and wanted nothing to do with him and that party. Maybe she needed to sleep it off. It hurt so bad because she really liked him. He didn’t have to play along. If that’s your ex, why even entertain that mess? These are the games she’s not willing to play.

-How’s everything going with your crush? 😌

Valencia typed a reply.

-Not so good. He isn’t my crush anymore 😪 he just played in my face. Men ain’t shit.

She shut her laptop and climbed into bed to try and get some sleep. Dreams of Erik took over her mind in slumber.

You see that q-dog over there? Play with em’ if you want to and he’ll break your heart…

@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 @melodicheauxxlovesfood @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @princessxotwod @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee

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

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riddlesb1tch · 3 days

Text

Nature's A Bitch

Azriel x reader

summary: Reader is on her period and amidst the crankiness due to a lack of sleep and her hormones going haywire, she says something to Azriel she doesn't mean. Now, she has to apologise.

warnings: mentions of blood (only once and nothing gory)

~●○°●○°●○~

You clutched your stomach, groaning in pain as another cramp hit. Earlier in the night, you’d woken up to excruciating pain in your abdomen and had odiously discovered you’d gotten your period. The rest of the night was spent barely getting any sleep, staying in a fetal position in an attempt to relieve the cramping. However, they only seemed to intensify as the night went on. Your only option was to ignore the pain and try to fall asleep.

It was a Saturday morning when the usual knock sounded on the door. You buried yourself under the covers, groaning, trying to drown out the annoying sound of Azriel knocking on the door. Due to having barely gotten any sleep the previous night, you’d rather never wake up again than be awoken at this hour. Especially knowing what waking up entailed.

This was routine for the two of you. You and Azriel had been best friends for decades and somewhere along the way, you fell into a routine where Azriel woke you up on days he was home with a hot cup of coffee. The two of you would sit in bed and drink it then head to training.

Of course, this caused both of you to get teased a lot by the rest of IC about each other but you didn't care. It was fun chatting with Azriel about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. Today, though, you just weren’t in the mood or the physical state to wake up.

By your guess, it was the ass crack of dawn right now, like every single day when he came to wake you. Mother Nature had built a chicken into this male that started cawckawing at the first rays of sunlight. This normally amiable quality of his annoyed the shit out of you today.

The knocking continued on the door but you didn’t respond, doing your best to ignore the sound and sleep again.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Azriel’s voice boomed as he barged into your room. His thudding footsteps approached the bed before he rolled you over to make space for himself to sit.

“Brought you coffee,” he said gently. Extra black as you like it.”

You continued ignoring him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone for the day. He did not, however, because you could still feel his knee slightly nudging your back as he sat next to you on the bed. Honestly, his presence felt quite nice because suffering all night felt a bit lonely. It was only his relentless attempts at waking you up that nagged you.

When you didn’t reply, Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Y/n?” He asked, peeling the covers back from your face a little bit.

You didn’t know why this simple act enraged you so much. It was the mood swings that came with a period but the simple act of Az lifting the covers off your face made you snap. You sat up so fast that Azriel jerked back in surprise, spilling some of the coffee on your covers.

“What the fuck do you want, Azriel?” you yelled, furiously glaring at Azriel who looked at you stunned. He had never witnessed an outburst like this from you.

He gaped for a second, then said, “What do you mean? I came to wake you up like I do every morning,” he stated in confusion.

You shook your head in frustration, massaging your temples to relieve the building headache now.

“Yeah well maybe I don’t want your ass barging in here every fucking morning to ruin my day,” you said in frustration, pulling the covers back over your head and trying to fall asleep.

Azriel’s heart dropped all the way to his feet. That was the one sentence he’d dreaded to hear from anyone in the family but it especially stung coming from you. You and Azriel had been there for each other for the longest time. You had been there every single time he felt his inadequacies overtaking his qualities, been there to bring him down from every single nightmare, every reminder of his horrible past. So for him, it felt like having all that information made you realise you didn’t want to be his friend and simply put up with him because you were too kind to hurt him. Well, that had been his suspicion. A suspicion you’d just confirmed.

You didn’t see the pained look in Azriel’s eyes when you said that, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil of emotions. Some part of him knew you didn’t mean it and were probably just having a bad day. Another, bigger part of him though, was chastising him for being a burden, telling him that he was as unwanted as he’d always thought and now the truth was in front of him.

He got up from your bed and set the coffee cup on your nightstand. This time, no thudding footsteps were telling you he was walking out of your room. You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind Azriel before you were pulled back into a deep slumber.

~●○°●○°●○~

You woke up around noon, still in excruciating pain from your cramps. Some part of you wanted to stay in bed, in the comfort of your blankets and the warmth they provided. Eventually, though, the disgust from the blood overtook your need to be comfortable, and you willed yourself out of bed. You took a hot shower, used some muscle relief balm on your back and stomach to relieve the pain, changed into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, then guzzled down a couple of painkillers from Madja to rid yourself of some of the misery.

Afterwards, you headed out to eat something.

Because it was the weekend, most of your family was home. Chatter was heard from the living room: sounds of talking, laughing, dishes clinking, and chairs scraping against the floor. A small smile made it to your face. While the scales of your emotions were tilted more to the negative side during your cycle, the bright sounds of chatter and laughter never failed to lift your spirits a little.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted in a much more chirpy mood than earlier this morning.

“‘Morning’ ended 2 hours ago,” Mor judged.

You rolled your eyes at the blonde and looked around at everyone in attendance. One person seemed to be missing; the one who was always there if he was home because family mattered to him the most. So when he was absent from family time, you frowned.

“Where’s Az?” you asked.

“I actually…don’t know,” Rhysand replied, brows furrowing. It was weird that even Rhysand didn’t know where Azriel was since due to his prying nature, he always entered people’s heads and found out what everyone was doing. So if Rhysand was unable to do that, that meant Azriel had blocked him out, which could mean only one thing: he was brooding.

Without another word to your family, you turned around and headed straight for Azriel’s room. Honestly, chances were low you’d find him there since his favourite place to brood was either the terrace or the bench in front of the Sidra, but given the rest of the family was home, there was a higher chance he’d stay in his room to avoid the risk of people talking to him.

You gently rapped your knuckles on the door. There was no response, so you tried twisting the door handle. His room was open, as always, so you walked in…into complete darkness. The room was shrouded in shadows running rampant, trying to veil Azriel from whoever may enter the room.

You practically felt the shadows exhale in relief when you entered as if they’d been waiting for you to come and negate whatever thoughts were running around in their master’s head.

“Azriel?” you called into the darkness.

Silently, you closed the door behind you. Azriel would not appreciate more people prying when he was feeling like this. From muscle memory, you took slow and careful footsteps towards the bed. Shadows swarmed you as you walked, brushing your legs as if urging you on.

Finally, you reached the bed. Your shins hit the mattress and you leaned forward to rest your hands on the bed and feel around to see where exactly Azriel was. Your hand slightly brushed the side of his thigh and you exhaled with relief. Immediately though, that turned into a sharp inhale when Azriel jerked away from your touch.

That was weird. He’d never done that before.

Guessing as to which way he was sitting, you settled down next to him on the bed, one leg folded on the bed while the other dangled off the edge.

“Az?” you called, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked.

Once again, Azriel turned away from your touch. Your anxiety was growing now as you grew more agitated with not knowing what was bothering him.

“Talk to me,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“You-” a broken voice came. “You don’t need to pretend to care, Y/n,” Azriel said.

“‘Pretend to care’ what? What do you mean?” you asked. “Pretend to care about what?”

“About me,” he sniffled.

Your heart audibly cracked.

“Azriel,” you said in a stern voice. “You know I love you. How dare you accuse me of pretending to care about you when you know you’re my best friend.”

He scoffed and you just knew he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t sound like it this morning,” he said angrily.

Now you were confused. You thought back to what happened this morning. You recalled Azriel walking in with a cup of coffee. You didn’t like that he was trying to wake you up. And then you said-

Your eyes widened as the realisation dawned on you.

“Oh Azriel,” you said, at a loss of words to excuse your shitty behaviour. “I- I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage.

“Just forget about it, Y/n. At least now I know the truth,” he resigned.

“No,” you stated adamantly. “You don’t know the truth.”

“Then please, enlighten me. Cause where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been putting up with me for the past five decades because you don’t have the guts to tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me!”

The pain in his voice killed you.

“Azzy,” you sighed in defeat. “I started my cycle yesterday,” you explained. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I just couldn’t sleep the whole night and the thought of getting out of bed was the most painful thing ever so I snapped when you pulled the covers back. I’m sorry, I should have just told you what was going on.”

As you spoke, you noticed the shadows slowly retreating to their corners. Little by little, you could see Azriel sitting in front of you. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and tear-stained cheeks. You felt horrible. You brought a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek.

“Oh Az,” you sighed.

“Is that true?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation.

“Yes,” you nodded earnestly. “Azzie, there’s no relationship I value more than yours and I would never, ever intentionally do anything to damage it. I would especially never intentionally hurt you. I hate myself for saying what I did. I hope you can forgive me,” you pleaded with him.

Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. “Of course.”

You could finally see all of him now. The shadows had completely retreated to their corners save for a couple that remained to stroke your cheek with affection as if thanking you for clearing things up with their master.

“I love you, Azzie,” you smiled at him.

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel said.

He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and clung to you. In that one hug, he communicated what losing you meant for him, and you vowed to yourself to protect this male at all costs.

tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fluff #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader angst #acotar angst #azriel shadowsinger angst #azriel shadowsinger x reader angst

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azzifudd · 3 days

Text

i don't wanna see you with anyone but me

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed.

rated: teen

3.0k words

disclaimer: as always, this is fictional

[AO3 Link]

Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed. It’s already been a bad morning. Early morning games are always tough on the team, and they’d gotten to the hotel late last night because of an expected traffic jam, leading to even less sleep.

And now, instead of helping her warm up and hyping her up like she normally is, Paige is at the opposite end of the court giggling with some girl on the other team.

They only have a few weeks left together before Paige has to go home, and instead of being with Azzi, she’s off flirting with someone else.

Azzi takes another shot, grunting when it bounces off the rim. The ref finally blows his whistle, signaling the teams to line up for tip off. Paige starts to walk back toward their side of the court, but not before that girl says goodbye with a hand pressed to Paige’s arm.

Azzi’s petty enough that she pretends she doesn’t see Paige’s offered high five before she runs onto the court.

Azzi plays like a woman possessed. By the time the final buzzer sounds, they’re up 25 points after her efficient 33.

“Okay, killa!” When Paige bounds up to her, bumping into her with her chest and trying to wrap her arms around her, she shrugs her off.

“Why don’t you go comfort your new friend?” Azzi heads to the bench to take a much needed drink of water. Paige trails close behind her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her.” Azzi flicks her head in the girl’s direction. Azzi has to admit she’s pretty; with dark skin, dark hair, and big brown eyes. She’d probably enjoyed it a little too much when her crossover had landed the girl on her ass, but like she’s said, she’s petty.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know her.” Paige looks dumbfounded.

“You seemed to know her well enough that you spent all of pregame talking to her instead of helping me warm up.” She tries to keep her voice low, knowing that their voices would echo easily in the gym no matter how loud the other games were.

“She said she was a fan! I was just being nice!” Paige crowds into her space, voice defensive.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

“Azzi, come on, you’re being crazy.”

Azzi sees red, elbowing Paige in the stomach, pushing her lanky body out of the way easily. “Get away from me.”

“Fine!” Paige throws up her hands. “Come find me when you’re done being crazy.”

The rest of the day drags as they have to take the long drive home together in the car with Azzi’s family. Her parents clearly want nothing to do with their drama, ignoring the two ticking time bombs in the backseat.

When they finally make it back to the house, Azzi storms inside, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

“So… what happened, big dawg?” Tim asks Paige as she helps him unload their bags from the car.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Paige huffs, frustrated.

“I didn’t say you did.” He replies, patient.

Paige hesitates, suddenly feeling awkward about talking about this with her what are they? her girl? her Azzi’s dad, but he stops her before she has to.

“You don’t have to tell me the details, but give her some time to cool down, and then just talk to her. You know how she can be, I mean both of you are stubborn as hell, but when has she ever stayed mad at you for long?

That’s true. It’s one of the things that Paige likes the most about Azzi, that no matter how annoying Paige is being, Azzi still wants her around.

When they’re done unpacking, Paige goes to find Azzi. She stops in the kitchen to grab some reinforcements. When she gets to Azzi’s door, she hesitates. She’s never had to knock before. But before she even needs to, it opens.

She and Azzi stare at each other for a moment before they’re both blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

Then they’re both giggling and Azzi pulls Paige into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“I brought this, in case you were still mad at me.” Paige holds up a cartoon of ice cream and a spoon.

“Only one spoon?”

“In case you were still mad at me,” Paige repeats. Azzi laughs and tugs Paige over to sit on the bed, where they take turns eating bites of the ice cream.

“I’m sorry I called you crazy.” Paige says, wincing as she remembers it. “I shoulda seen how upset you were.”

“And I’m sorry that I overreacted when I saw you talking to someone else.” Azzi twists her fingers together. “I just got so mad when I saw you talking to her. And I know how popular you are, and you deserve every bit of it, but…”

Paige just waits because she knows Azzi needs to talk it out herself, and that she just needs Paige to listen.

“I know it’s selfish, but part of me just wants to keep you to myself. Because as soon as everyone finds out about you, they’re gonna want you.” Azzi glances at Paige then, almost certain she’ll see a cocky grin on her face, but Paige just listens.

Paige gets it. Sometimes someone can just look at Azzi for a second too long and it makes her want to just take Azzi and hide her away. But she can’t, so she just reaches out to hold Azzi’s hand.

There are so many things she wishes she could say to Azzi, things that she can barely stand to consider because they scare the shit out of her.

So she just settles for saying the one thing she knows to be true.

“I’m yours.”

Paige watches Azzi blush, stunned and speechless.

“Can I kiss you now? Lowkey it was so hot how jealous you got.” Paige laughs when Azzi pushes her with a hand to her face.

But then that same hand is gripping at her collar and pulling her on top of Azzi and then there’s no more talking.

It’s a Friday night, and Paige is sober.

It’s not the most uncommon occurrence, not anymore. After her ACL, she has learned to be a bit more responsible, a bit more grown up. So when the girls had decided to go out that night, she volunteered to be DD.

And if that gives her a chance to watch over Azzi a little more closely she will take it. The younger girl has been acting off in the past weeks. On the outside, she doubts that anyone else has noticed, but she almost knows Azzi better than she knows herself.

It becomes even clearer that something’s wrong when Azzi returns over and over to the bar, taking way more shots than she usually does.

And now, a few hours into their night, she has disappeared. It’s a small bar, in a small town, so Paige isn’t too worried, but Azzi has never been one to wander off, and especially not on her own.

Paige pokes her head through the door to the back patio which consists of a few picnic tables, lit up with fairy lights. She almost heads back inside when she hears a familiar laugh from the far end of the patio.

When her eyes adjust to the light, she sees Azzi sitting on a table, a tall form looming over her.

“Azzi!” She barks out, strides long as she rushes forward. The figure steps back from her friend, and Paige vaguely recognizes her as one of the members of the girls volleyball team.

“What?!” Azzi fires back, stopping Paige in her tracks.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“I’m talking to a friend.” Paige fights the familiar twist in her stomach at the sight of Azzi’s hand on the other girl’s arm. “Is that okay with you? Or are you the only one allowed to flirt with every woman who throws themselves at you?”

Paige feels like she’s been punched in the gut. She sees a hint of regret on Azzi’s face before she turns her head away.

The stranger looks like she would rather be anywhere else, and Paige would be more embarrassed if she wasn’t so focused on Azzi.

“I’ll see you in class, Azzi?” When Azzi gives a jerky nod in response, the girl takes her leave, giving Paige a cold look as she goes.

Azzi’s eyes are glassy, her cheeks obviously flushed even under the dim lights. She takes a heaving breath, face turned away while she clearly fights tears, and Paige hates that she is the reason for her best friend’s pain.

“Az-” Her hands reach up to find their usual place at Azzi’s waist, but she freezes when Azzi flinches away from her. Her fists clench as she drops them at her side.

“Am I not enough?”

“What?” Paige chokes out. The thought is inconceivable. She reaches out again, grasping at where Azzi has wrapped her arms around herself.

Azzi still isn’t looking her in the eye.

“Azzi, come on.” Paige sighs in relief when Azzi allows her touch, hands warm against the skin exposed by her crop top.

Azzi’s eyes brim with tears. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

That’s when Paige knows something really might be wrong. Azzi is always the one pulling her out of her shell when she’s upset, and she wasn’t usually one to hide her own feelings.

“It’s just us. Me and you.” Paige brings one hand up to cup her jaw and brings their gazes together. “Talk to me. We promised that we’d always talk to each other.”

Azzi takes a deep, steadying breath. And then another.

“I know that we agreed when you came here that we’d pull back and keep it more casual.”

You wanted that! Paige wants to say, but she can’t deny that she took advantage of it, loved it at times even. She can’t deny that sometimes it was nice to be able to talk to, flirt with, and kiss girls who didn’t hold the power to crush her with one word.

But none of those girls ever made her feel even half of how Azzi did, like she could conquer the world if only Azzi was at her side, holding her hand.

“And I know that we decided last year that it was best for the team and for everyone if we just.. didn’t complicate things.”

She keeps it unspoken that it was never that simple, and that it had tested their relationship more than ever having each other so close, but being unable to really be together the way they both hoped the other wanted. And then the season had ended with that devastating loss, and neither of them had had the emotional capacity to deal with all of it.

And then her ACL had happened, and just when Paige had thought that she couldn’t be forced any lower, there was Azzi. Azzi, who had just shown up to hold her, and let her yell and cry, and not be okay, for once.

It still sucks, and there are days where she’s so desperate to play that she cries, but she’s not alone in it. She’ll never be alone again, not as long as she has Azzi. And she knows now, sure as anything, that Azzi is all she’ll ever want.

“I thought something had changed between us this summer, and I’ve been waiting for you to be ready, to tell me you were ready.”

Paige feels like this is a conversation she has been waiting to have for a very long time.

“Do you know what my first thought was the first time I saw you? ”

Azzi huffs in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you shoot a basketball for the first time, and thought, damn, I have to play with her, and then I did, and it was better than I even imagined it would be. Then I got to sit next to you on that plane, and got to really know you, and then I knew that I just wanted you in my life forever. So don’t ever think that you’re not enough. You’re all I’ve wanted since I was sixteen years old.”

Azzi’s eyes shimmer with tears, but the smile on her face is radiant. Paige tugs her even closer by the waist until Azzi hooks her arms around her shoulders.

“I wish I was as good with words as you are,” Azzi says, pressing their foreheads together. “I wish I could tell you what you mean to me.”

But Paige doesn’t need Azzi to say it. She can feel it in the way Azzi’s heart pounds against her chest where they are pressed together. She can see it in the way her lips tremble like they’re about to kiss for the first time.

And she can feel it in the way Azzi presses their lips together, like she never wants to stop, like breathing matters less than kissing her.

Paige is unzipping her luggage when her phone rings with a Facetime call from KK. She taps accept and as the screen fills with an image, she realizes it isn’t a normal call.

The angle is askew and the camera is out of focus showing a gym with a few figures in the distant background. Somehow KK must’ve accidentally called her. She hears KK’s voice loud and clear joking around with someone with an Australian accent. She smiles, happy that her little freshman is getting along with everyone at the Dawg Camp. She almost hangs up the call when the camera focuses itself and the figures in the background become clear.

They’re a bit far away, but Paige would recognize that form anywhere. Azzi stands at the opposite court putting up shots, though her feet stay planted on the ground. Her stroke is still smooth as butter though, and she’s so strong that the shots swish through the net even if she can’t get off the ground yet.

Someone’s under the net, someone tall with dirty blonde hair, rebounding for Azzi, and she says something, too quiet for Paige to hear from this far away, but she does hear Azzi’s responding laugh.

The sound, one of Paige’s favorite sounds, one that normally never fails to bring a smile to Paige’s face, instead sends an uncontrollable roll of unease through her gut.

She knows it’s irrational, to still get jealous when someone else makes Azzi smile. She’s never been more secure in their relationship than she is now, but apparently that jealous part of her is still alive as she squints down angrily at her phone, watching fucking Kate Martin?! standing way too close to her girl.

“What the hell?” She mutters, and then the phone is moving and KK’s face fills the screen.

“Oh, what the? P. Boogers! My bad, how long have you been on my phone?”

“Kamorea!”

KK jumps from the unexpected growl in Paige’s voice. “Damn what’s gotten up your butt? Say hi to Georgia.”

“Hi,” Paige says, brusquely. She swipes the FaceTime to the corner of the screen, tapping open Instagram and navigating to Azzi’s profile.

“Jeez, tough crowd.” She hears Georgia say as she taps on Azzi’s following, scoffing when she sees Azzi’s most recent follow.

“Dude, lemme talk to Azzi.”

“Y’all fightin’ or somethin’? She seemed all goofy after she talked to you last night.” KK thinks for a second. “Oh was it because you were cheesin’ at those dancers?”

“What?” Paige sputters. “I was just being polite!”

“Mm, sure.”

“Whatever, just let me talk to her, bro come on.” Paige nods, impatiently.

KK rolls her eyes, but still walks down the court. “Azzi,” she calls out. “Dumbass on the line for you.”

Paige watches Azzi’s face come into focus, first looking confused before a smile blooms on her face, dimple creasing her cheek.

“Babe, hey.”

Paige feels all the uncertainty and jealousy just fade away at the sight of that smile.

“Hey,” she replies, softly.

“Did something happen?” Azzi’s brow creases with worry, and she walks a bit away so they can speak in a more private spot.

“No,” Paige lies, suddenly embarrassed about how much she overreacted. “I just miss you.”

“Paige.” Azzi's smile grows even wider. “You called KK to tell her how much you missed me? You just saw me like two days ago.”

“Well, she pocket dialed me, and I saw you, so-” She cuts herself off. “Yeah.”

“I miss you too, dummy.”

Azzi’s smile is softer now, the sight of it fills Paige’s chest with warmth, so different from the mess of emotions she felt just minutes ago. Azzi has always been that for Paige, her safe place, her peace, her home.

Paige hears the noise in the background pick up and Azzi looks up, past the camera.

“You gotta go?”

“I’ll call you later?”

“You better.” Paige smirks and Azzi rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, I gotta go.”

“Wait,” Azzi pauses with a finger over the screen. “Is Martin still there?”

Azzi looks confused, but she still calls out, “Kate!”

Kate appears over Azzi’s shoulder, looking slightly puzzled at being summoned, but with a friendly smile anyways. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hey, how are ya?”

“Good, happy to be here, you know? Just taking it all in. Azzi’s been really nice about helping me actually. Since she’s been here before.” Kate smiles at Azzi, who returns it.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great, huh?” Paige winks and Azzi snorts softly. But then she says, voice serious, “Keep an eye on her for me, would ya? She doesn’t like to ask for help for herself sometimes.”

“You got it, Paige. Good to see you.” Kate jogs off to join the others in the now starting scrimmage.

When Paige looks back to Azzi, she almost blushes at the look in her eye.

“You’re always taking care of me.”

“Well, I kinda love you a little, so.” Paige scratches the bridge of her nose, feeling bashful all of a sudden.

“I kinda love you a little too.”

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi

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flemingsfreckles · 2 days

Text

Dress

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: inspired off the song Dress by Taylor Swift (normally not a big TS fan but this song gives off such gay/secret relationship vibes)

Warnings: suggestive, language

WC: 2.3k

A/N: pretend Jessie is still at Chelsea for the sake of this 🙃 also ignore Niamh in the photo, there’s like only 2 photos of Jessie in that button up outfit and I’ve used the other one already, despite the fact that yall want a Niamh x Jessie x Reader fic, this is not it.

Your eyes scanned the room filled with your teammates in search of the brown hair and brown eyed Canadian you were trying to find and yet trying to avoid coming into direct contact with.

In your second scan of the crowded room, you find her across the way, speaking with some of your other teammates.

You watch as Jessie’s eyes catch yours, before they widen and trail downward, taking in your whole body. As her eyes admire you, you watch her suck in a large breath, her eyebrows raised, cheeks puffed out as she slowly releases the air in her lungs. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. She gives you a small and slow nod when her eyes meet yours again.

You had succeeded.

You knew she wanted you to rush over to her, to say hello, give her a hug, whisper something for just the two of you in her ear, so you did the opposite.

You found Millie first, giving her a hug, she gushed over your dress. You chatted with her for a bit, glancing around the room occasionally, noticing Jessie’s eyes always meeting yours. She was watching you intensely, just what you had hoped.

You were quickly interrupted by Guro, Erin, and Sam all making their way over, drinks in their hands. The three greeted you, all making comments that they were shocked by your dress, in a good way of course. It felt weird having your teammates gush over your appearance, you had been dressed up around them before but usually opted for a blazer, pantsuit, never before a dress.

Wanting to tease Jessie more, you continue making your rounds, avoiding the area of the room where she and Niamh stood. You took the occasional glance in their direction, Jessie’s eyes always looking over Niamh's shoulder and at you. You felt like prey being hunted by her intense gaze. You talk with Aggie and Maika, a couple of the assistant coaches, dragging out the conversations, keeping Jessie waiting for you. When you had finally said hello to everyone that had already arrived except Jessie, you decided it was time to put the poor girl out of her misery.

You finally make your way over to Jessie. She’s staring you down as you approach her, her eyes locked on your body.

“Hi Jess.” You lean in giving her a hug and she gives you a peck on the cheek. It’s casual, quick, and boring to the outside world. But the way you slid your hand down to the small of her back and the way she let her lips linger on your cheek for an extra second, was not casual.

When you pulled away from her you kept your hand on the small of her back, turning so the two of you were shoulder to shoulder as if you were standing before a game for the anthems.

“You look,” she lets out a sigh that tells you everything you needed to know, “you look fantastic.”

“Thanks. Actually funny enough, I was told if I always dressed like this, maybe I wouldn’t be single.” You say it as a joke, Jessie doesn’t take it as one.

“You’re not single.” The Canadian leans in to grumble into your ear, clearly not a fan of the thought of you being available.

“Oh I’m not? I don’t recall anyone asking me to be in a relationship.” You pat her back softly, letting your fingers just barely dance into the waistband of her pants.

You and Jessie had been seeing each other as more than friends for a couple weeks now. It had started as innocent coffee trips, those trips quickly became more formal coffee dates, those dates turned into spending the afternoons and evenings at each others places, which led to just three weeks ago, you straddling the Canadian on her couch, your fingers in her hair and her hands around your waist as the two of you kissed for the first time. You hadn’t yet put any form of label on it, but you continued seeing each other, the romantic and sexual tension very much still alive between the two of you.

“I don’t like how they’re staring.” You can feel the jealousy radiating off of Jessie. She’s looking out across the room to all your teammates. It was weird, the new attention you were getting. You knew none of your teammates meant it in a way of making you uncomfortable and you knew that, it was just different seeing them surprised by your outfit.

“No need to be jealous, Fleming.” You say to her before leaning in close again to whisper in her ear as she takes a sip of the beer in her hand. “Just remember I bought this dress thinking about only you taking it off my body tonight.” That gets Jessie’s attention, her eyes widen and she’s sent into a coughing fit choking on her drink. Your comment is said half as an invitation, half as a statement. The two of you had made out plenty in your three week escapades, but not getting any further than you did only four days ago in her apartment after training.

You had been making out against the hallway of her apartment when Jessie had picked you up, your legs around her waist as she carried you into her bedroom. She had quickly discarded your training top, kissing down your neck before removing your bra and starting to harshly suck dark red marks across your chest. You had removed her shirt and just as she leaned down to trail kisses down your stomach her phone rang. A FaceTime call from her sister. She had apologized profusely as she threw your shirt back to you as she donned her own. You weren’t upset, you had been the one who insisted she answer the call. However the interaction left you incredibly sexually frustrated for the next few days, giving you the brilliant idea of the dress.

You were already in need of an outfit for the banquet, leading you to be wandering around the store. You had texted Fran, Niamh, and a few other teammates to see what they were wearing. You walked in circles looking at jackets and pants, shirts, nothing seemed to pull your interest until you found yourself in the gown and dress section. The black dress you had bought was on display, it caught your eye. It was a tight, yet tasteful black dress, more than appropriate for the occasion and yet perfect to make Jessie have the opposite of appropriate thought.

Sneaking around with her had been fun, the quick glances in the locker room, the extra second you two spent looking at each other after Jessie had ended up with her body pressed on top of you after you tackled her a little too hard at training, the way she’d give your hand an extra squeeze when you’d high-five after games, all the subtle moments of your relationship happening right in front of everyone’s eyes, without anyone knowing at all.

Those red marks she had made on your skin the other day were now golden bruises across your chest, an arousing reminder of your evening when you got dressed this afternoon. You were thankful they weren’t visible in the lower cut neckline of the dress. You took one last look in the mirror before you left to come to the banquet. You couldn’t help but smirk at yourself, you wanted to drive Jessie crazy, make her stare, make her blush, make her squirm in her seat while she tried to keep your teammates oblivious to your situationship, this dress was going to be perfect for that job.

“We should go mingle.” You say, dropping your hand from Jessie’s back, a few more members of the staff had arrived, you wanted to say hello. Jessie just lets out a dissatisfied grumble. “I’ll see you in a bit.” You say to her as you walk away. You only get a few steps before you turn back, delighted by the sight. Jessie’s eyes had been fixated on your ass, she only looked away when she noticed you turned around catching her behavior. Her face flushed slightly and you gave her a quick wink before turning and moving to the other side of the room.

The seating at dinner was beyond your control but whoever was in charge of it did you a huge favor, sitting you right next to Jessie. You wander around looking for your name, finding it on the little place card, you take a lap looking at the rest of the names on the table before you come back reading the final name on the table for the seat to your left. You almost let out a laugh as you read Jessie’s name. This would be fun.

Dinner starts innocently enough. Plenty of conversation to keep both you and Jessie thinking about other things than the tension between you. It’s only once everyone starts eating, conversation slows and it becomes increasingly obvious how close you’re sat to her.

As you finish up your meal and speeches begin to start, you feel a weight on your lap. Jessie’s hand, under the tablecloth, resting on your upper thigh. She gently squeezes and you’re thankful that no one is seated directly behind your table, meaning no one sees how you move your leg outward to encourage her touch.

You let her touch your thigh, rubbing your skin through the dress for a couple minutes before you promptly stand up, excusing yourself to the table, saying you had to use the restroom and you’d be back. As you walk away you can’t help but turn back giving a look at Jessie, whose eyes were again watching you walk away.

You head to the bathroom, half because you had to use it and half because you wanted to see if Jessie would follow. You get your answer when you open the door from the stall to go wash your hands and Jessie is standing, arms crossed leaning against the wall. You take a moment to take in her stature, you had been so focused on her reaction to your own dress that you didn’t fully appreciate her appearance yet. She looked good, her dark dress pants tight in all the right places, her blazer hugging her shoulders, even if she didn’t intend it, her outfit was having an effect on you.

“You’re a tease.” She says, watching you again like prey as you walk over to the sink.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” You say, putting soap on your hands. “I’m not doing anything.” You give her an innocent smile through the mirror.

Sick of your behavior Jessie comes up behind you, her front flush to your back, pushing you slightly into the countertop. Her hands find your sides, just under your armpits. “You did this.” She lets her hands run down your sides and over the curve of your hips. “You chose this dress, you chose to tell me that you want me to take it off, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And it’s working?” You give her a cocky smile as you move away from her grasp to dry your hands and turn the water off.

“God, yes it’s working, you already get me worked up in regular clothes, but then this dress…” her voice trails off as she again takes the time to look over your body, head to toe, appreciating your dress. She bites her lip momentarily, walking up to you again. She leans into you, putting her lips quickly to your neck, giving you a soft kiss, then another just below your ear before she brings her lips to your ear and whispers. “You're driving me insane. I wish I had just ignored the call and fucked you instead the other day.”

You hum in agreement, you also wished she had just fucked you then and there. “But this is more fun.” You give her a raise of your eyebrows.

“You’re coming home with me.” She says as she leans back from you, still only inches from each other.

“I will, if you can be good the rest of the night.” You were going to give in and let her take you home no matter what, but you wanted to keep your evening of teasing and fun going for a little bit longer.

“I’ve been good!” She protests.

“I dunno Jessie, hand under the table isn’t what I would consider behaving.” You let your own hand drag on her thigh, mimicking her touch from earlier. You can feel her push her thigh into your hand desperately.

“I could’ve done worse.”

Returning her teasing from earlier you lean into her now, placing an open mouth kiss to her neck before whispering into her ear. “Behave for the rest of the night and I’ll let you do your worst to me later.”

You watch Jessie’s mouth fall open slightly as you pull back. Her stare intensifies on you, pupils wide. Knowing she was lost in her own dirty thoughts you take the opportunity to step away from her and open the bathroom door.

You turn back to look at Jessie, her mouth still agape, eyes locked on you. “Come on, only a few more hours of this banquet and then you can make those dirty thoughts you just had about me a reality.”

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

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gojotojis · 4 hours

Text

The Party pt.1

summary: you’re in love with your bestfriend but he’s pining after someone else and you’re too delusional to let him go.

pairing: college student! fem reader x college student! Sukuna

content MDNI: pining, angst, unrequited love, bestfriends, bestfriends brother, asshole sukuna, sexual conversations, drugs, alcohol, orgasm from kissing, enemies to loversish?

A frown mars your face as you watch him talk to her. A lump forms in your throat and your heart clenches. You hardly know her but it’s clear she likes him, she’s leggy and blonde with this sexy dominating presence.

It’s not like he talks to you about the girls he’s into, it’s never come up and you’ve always been grateful for that but seeing what you guess to be his type, in person feels painful. You’re the complete opposite of her, and it’s clear with the way he looks at her.

He turns around and points at you which makes your face heat up as Yuki smiles and waves at you. You awkwardly wave back before turning away. You watch a large muscular tattooed arm grab a fench fry from your tray and swat at it. You look up to see Sukuna grinning as he gorges on your fry before he grabs another one.

“Just take it all, I’ve lost my appetite,” you say shoving the tray toward him as you cross your arms and turn your cheeks, pouting.

You hear the scraping of a chair against the cafeteria floor as he takes the seat beside you. You sigh frustratedly hoping he’ll asks what’s wrong. He doesn’t so you sigh again more loud and exaggerated.

He still doesn’t answer but you hear him eating your fries so you huff and turn your body to face him. Only Sukuna knows the crush you have on his brother because one night you all got so drunk, you began to climb into Choso’s bed with no panties.

Luckily Sukuna was sober and tossed you over his shoulder, handing you your panties, not without teasing of course and had you sleep in the guest room. You were mortified but liquor does that to you.

“Just spit it out brat,” he says, his head resting on his fist as he stares at you with a bored expression.

“What does Yuki have that I don’t?” you ask genuinely. You’ve been friends with Choso since middle school and he’s never once looked at you as more than a friend. You always envisioned you’d lose your virginity’s to eachother, he’s the only other Virgin you know and you deluded yourself into thinking it’s fate.

“Giant tits, and a fat ass,” Sukuna answers bluntly which has you frowning. If it were anyone else, those words would hurt but Sukuna bullied you since you were kids. He bullied everyone and still does, there’s not a single person you can think of that he likes aside from his brothers which he’ll deny.

“A sense of fashion too, you dress like Adam Sandler,” he says looking at your sweatshirt and leaning over to see your baggy sweatpants. You have a sense of fashion, you just don’t bother dressing up.

Classes are so fucking early that you throw on the comfiest outfit and head to school. Your only friend is Choso, and you guess Sukuna though he occasionally hangs out with you two.

And yeah you could dress sexy but what’s the point, you don’t want to hear Sukuna call you a man with tits and you feared if you started dressing differently, you’d attract male attention that wasn’t Choso’s. A real man will like you no matter what you wear.

“I quite like Adam’s style,” you say and he scoffs, shoving another fry into his mouth.

“Trust me, we know. Do you even know what a thong looks like?” He asks, you have the urge to pull the band of your sweats down and show him the one you’re wearing but you don’t.

“I do but I’m sure you’ve seen more than me,” you say, an insult that reads like a compliment as it hits his ears and he smirks.

Sukunas fucked his way through half the school, you’ve had girls come up to you and give you their phone numbers because he forgot to get it from them. He didn’t forget anything and you know that, it’s scary how opposite he is from his brothers. Like the one bad apple off the bunch.

“There’s still a pair I haven’t seen, more like granny panties but a win is a win,” he shrugs and your cheeks burn red. You can’t stand his crude behavior, and you hate the way it makes you squirm.

“You’re the most disgusting creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting,” you say, grabbing your water bottle. You wrap your lips around it and drink, watching as Kiko Yukimura approaches your table.

Her fingers wave at Sukuna, completely ignoring you as you watch her sit on the edge of the table beside him. He leans back and spread his legs as her nails run up his bicep.

His large hand splays across her hip as she speaks.

“I’m having a party tonight at eight, you should definitely come. Yukis already inviting Choso, they’ll be free weed and booze,” she says as he slides his hand down the band of her skirt.

You watch the way she squeezes her legs as he pull at something. You see him tug the thin red strap up before letting slap against her skin.

‘Thong’ he mouths to you and you glare in mortification.

“Pussy too?” He asks, his hand running up her exposed thigh. You turn away, more interested with the dent in your water bottle but you don’t miss the ‘yes’ she whispers.

He pats her ass when she jumps up and starts walking away. Sukuna grabs your water and starts drinking from it, you make a mental note to throw it out.

“Wonder if Choso’s gonna invite you,” Sukuna says teasingly as he leans back, arms folded behind his head. His biceps flex, as he stares at you.

“Doesn’t matter, I don’t want to go,” you say and he hums to himself.

“Not surprised, good for you though. Heard tonight’s the night Choso’s finally gonna get his dick wet. Probably best you stay inside for that,” he says and your eyes widen. You’re to haunted at the idea of Choso having sex with Yuki to even care about the vulgar language Sukuna spews.

“Hey guys,” you hear Choso from behind you and it startles you. Sukuna barks out a laugh while Choso simply smiles.

“Yuki invited me to Kikos party, free weed sounds good,” Choso says and his brother grins. “Free pussy too,”.

Your fingers tremble as you stand at the front door of the Yukimura residence. You decided on a black mini skirt and floral black corset that holds your tits tight.

You already dread what Sukuna will say but this is last ditch effort to get your man. You shiver when you feel the breeze hit your pussy, a reminder that you opted for no panties tonight. If Choso’s getting pussy, it’s yours.

Your shaky fingers press the doorbell to the giant house and Kiko immediately opens it. Her eyes widen at the sight of you, hair curled down to your waist and black liner lines your eyes from top to bottom, a sharp wing eye at your creases.

“You look sexy” she says pulling you inside, your thigh high boots rub against eachother as you awkwardly rub your exposed arms. The music is loud and the house is clouded in smoke and green led lights flashing. Choso offered to pick you up but you didn’t think you could handle his reaction if he saw you walking out of your house like this.

Several people fill the home, it’s not so bad to the point where you can’t move but it is slightly crowded and the party officially started thirty minutes ago.

You lace your fingers together and force your legs to move forward. Unsure of where you’re going until you spot several people in the backyard by the pool. You recognize the long black hair as you slide the door open and step out.

You hearts loud in your ears as you hear them laughing, Choso has lips wrapped around a bong and Yuki sits beside him. She’s dressed in black leather pants and a white tank top, she hardly puts effort into her look and yet still looks so sexy.

“y/n! You look hot!” Yuki says, the first one to notice you. Choso turns and starts choking on smoke as Yuki stands up and pulls you into a hug. You’re much shorter than her so you have to turn your head so you’re not suffocated by her tits.

She quickly pulls back and guides you toward the group which consists of Kento Nanami, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Utahime, Shoko, Choso and you spot the pink head of hair sitting infront of you, his back to you. You wave awkwardly as you step in the center of everyone.

Your backs to Sukuna, dreading the laugh you know he’s going to choke out. Everyone waves back, Gojo and Geto look dumbstruck and it makes your cheeks turn red. You feel confident enough to turn and face Sukuna, his expressions unreadable as his eyes take you in.

“Is this Adam Sandler enough for you?” you ask but he doesn’t answer, for once he doesn’t have some disgusting or vile comeback and you feel satisfied but also self conscious. You take the only empty seat which unfortunately is beside him.

You watch his hand flex and clench the beer in his hand. Your eyes drift up and see his jaw clench. You wonder what’s his problem but you look forward to see Choso staring at you. Your crossed legs squeeze tight, waiting for him to compliment you but it doesn’t come. You want to frown but don’t bother, he probably just doesn’t want to hurt Yukis feelings.

You watch everyone pass the bong around. You smoked weed once and nearly choked to death so you opted for edibles. You attempted to hit Choso’s bong once and hated the experience.

“Want a hit?” Geto questions, holding the bong out for you and you shake your head.

“She doesn’t know how to wrap her lips around it,” Sukuna speaks up for the first time tonight and you tap your nails against your thigh to stop yourself from smacking the blunt he’s holding. Geto coughs awkwardly before passing the bong to Utahime.

“I’m bored,” Shoko announces, a cigarette between her lips.

“Never have I ever or truth or dare?” Gojo questions, wiggling his eyebrows. Both games sound dreadful to you.

“What are we twelve?” Nanami asks and you hold back a laugh at his tone. Your eyes find Choso and Yuki whispering to eachother and his hand grips hers.

“Truth or dare,” you say, answering Gojo and he claps.

“Don’t listen to her, she’s never played a game beyond hide and seek,” Sukuna says, puffing out a ring of smoke. You pinch his arm and he hisses, you smile at him innocently as Gojo attempts to get everyone’s attention.

“Never have I ever, I need a drink” Shoko says and Utahime agrees. The group decides on that and Geto runs inside to get cups and a bottle of Svedka. He comes back and starts pouring into cups before handing them out.

“I’ll start,” Utahime offers.

“Never have I ever failed a test,” she says making Sukuna groan. “She’s about as boring as you” he says looking to you before he takes a sip of his drink, your cup remains untouched.

“Never have I ever fucked a virgin,” Shoko says and everyone’s cup go up but yours, Choso, Utahime and Nanami’s. You’re not sure why your heart stops for a second at the sight of Yuki taking a sip but you shake the thought away.

You look expectantly to Sukuna, now his turn and he grins at you which makes you nervous. “Never have I ever wanted to fuck my bestfriend” he says and you tense. You don’t dare touch your cup, there’s no proof but you watch several other others take a sip, excluding Choso.

“Drink up, cheater,” sukuna whispers in your ear. He’s mean, he’s always mean but tonight he’s different like he’s targeting you and you can’t understand why.

It’s your turn now and you quickly try to think of something that’ll feel like a slap to the face for him, “Never have I ever been jealous of my own brother,” you say, eyes staring into his red ones.

He takes a sip without breaking eye contact, the game continues and you still haven’t taken a sip. Your stomach tightens when it makes its way back to Sukuna, and you know he’s thought of something nasty, just for you.

“Never have I ever lost my virginity,” he says and your face reddens. Everyone knowing you’re a virgin isn’t the worst thing in the world but he nods his head at something infront of you and you turn. Choso takes a sip and your throat tightens. You look back at Sukuna with anger, and watery eyes. Why’s he being so fucking cruel.

“Never have I ever been so fucking miserable with my own life that I take it out on others to the point where nobody can stand to be around me. To the point where I have to fuck anything with a pulse to feel something,” you say, eyes glaring at him.

Everyone just stares awkwardly between you two as he takes a sip. He looks so unbothered, and it pisses you off.

“Think I’m gonna go inside,” Nanami says scratching the back of his neck before he walks off and a chorus of ‘me too’s’ go off. Choso’s stares between you and Sukuna but you simply shake your head as Yuki pulls him into the house leaving you and Sukuna alone.

You take Choso’s seat and grab the bottle of svedka on the table. Unscrew the lid and take several sips, your face scrunches and your throat tightens at the burn but you don’t care.

“What did I do to you?” you asks as he tosses what’s left of his blunt on the ground and crushes it.

“You really gonna fucking cry over a guy that doesn’t want shit to do with you? I did you a favor, stop being a crybaby” he says irritated. Your nails dig into the skin of your thigh.

“I fucking hate you,” you say and he shrugs.

“The feelings mutual, I fucking despise you,” he says and your eyes water. Tears roll down your cheeks as your lips wobble, you never cry especially not infront of him but he’s so fucking mean it breaks something in you.

“Stop, don’t do that,” he says like, the sight of you crying bothers the hell out of him.

You stare down at your lap as your shoulders shake and tears spill against your thighs. You sniffle as your cries turn into sobs. You don’t just cry because of his words but because you’re not good enough, you’re never good enough. You’d been deluding yourself that Choso actually liked you.

You flinch when you feel hands grasp your face, you feel thumbs swipe at the tears away from your cheeks. He tilts your head up and sighs.

“Crying over someone that doesn’t want you, won’t make them want you more,” he says, kneeling in infront of you. His face looks almost pained. His thumb glides across your bottom lip, maybe harmless but it creates heat between your legs.

You feel guilty and confused at the way your body reacts and he slowly sinks his thumb into your mouth. Your belly tightens, and you almost lick his thumb but he tugs your lip down, showing your teeth and you can’t help but furrow your brows.

Your eyes widen when he leans forward, his hands uncross your legs and spread your thighs apart before his large body nestled between them. His face is inches from yours, your hair falls you both like a curtain and he does the strangest thing.

His nose brushes against your hair and he inhales. Your breathing heavies and your chest tightens but you don’t stop him, you just watch. His fingers graze your cheek and your skin burns under his touch. You’re confused as to what’s going on, you’ve never seen Sukuna this gentle in his life.

Your eyes close the closer he leans into you until his lips touch yours. You’ve never kissed anyone before and you’re not sure how you feel about Sukuna being the first. You feel curious and can’t help when your tongue touches his lips, licking them and he groans, the sound going straight to your pussy.

He licks you back but you don’t open your mouth, so he pinched your arm making you gasp and his mouth devours yours. You’re scared you’re not a good kisser but you push the thought aside as you try to mimic his movements.

Your arms wrap around his neck, the feeling in your belly making you push your hips against his abdomen. His large hands grip your waist as he tastes you. Is kissing suppose to feel like this? You moan when he sucks your tongue into his mouth and you cry out feeling your body tremble against him. You shake and he pulls away.

“Fuck,” he breathes. You just orgasmed.

You feel so embarrassed, that you’re quickly up and walking into the house. You pray nobody saw that as you quickly set up an Uber to come get you, you actually want to die.

You’re striding out of the house, mortified, confused and ashamed. Your Uber arrives within five minutes and you’re on your way home, your fingers graze your swollen lips. What the fuck just happened?

Idk if I like this but either smut in part 2 or 3!

#sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #king of curses #choso x reader #sukuna x reader #toji fushiguro #choso smut #sukuna smut #choso kamo #gojo smut #toji smut #gojo satoru #friends to lovers #sukuna au

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superprincesspea · 2 days

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 16 - Uncle

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

When you make it into the centre of camp, you can still feel the press of Aemond’s touch on your body, and the heat of his kiss on your cheek, but there’s no time to slow your racing heart. The wheelhouse is already coming to a halt and the groom is hurrying to open the door.

Your mother emerges first, her face seemingly horrified by your tousled appearance, as she rushes to smooth your hair and pull a stray pin from where its clinging on for life.

“Just look at the state of you!” she hisses, and you wonder if your cheeks look as flushed as they feel.

“I think her appearance is quite becoming,” Alicent says, emerging from behind your mother’s frown with a coy smirk before she glances around for the whereabouts of her son.

“It was the wind,” you say, pushing your hair behind your ears while knowing fine well that the wind wasn’t the only thing which had tangled with it. There had been fingers, long, deft, and impossibly gentle.

Perhaps Alicent suspects as much, her head tilting, regarding your appearance with more scrutiny than before.

“Was it not the race?” she counters, and you swallow fresh nerves, wondering if everyone in the wheelhouse had noticed the way you and Aemond had charged down the road.

“That too...” you admit, and she hooks her arm into yours, tugging you into a leisurely walk towards her tent.

So much for staying with Cassandra , you think, glancing over your shoulder to where your mother and sisters are being left behind.

“And who won the race?” Alicent says, drawing your attention back to her face.

“I did, your grace.”

“Ahh,” she smiles excitedly, holding you tighter, her cheek touching your shoulder for just a moment, “and was my son an insufferable loser?”

You laugh, despite the nerves knotting in your stomach, you can’t help it. Insufferable was certainly a choice word for her second son, and though you think her completely accurate in her estimation, you dare not say it.

“Or is he just always insufferable?” she presses, seeming to sense your reluctance, and this time you manage to contain your amusement to a smile, though you’re feeling more at ease in her company.

“Perhaps we can agree that all men are at least a little insufferable?” you suggest, and now it's the queens turn to laugh, her body shaking, her arm holding you tighter.

“Only a little?” she says when she’s caught her breath, and you meet the mischievous look in her eye with a small smile before she releases your arm and gestures for you to enter the royal tent.

It's far bigger than it looks from the outside, and so bright and airy, with the sunlight diffused through the thick white linen and a pleasant breeze blowing in at just the right angle.

You take a seat on one of the green velvet floor cushions and Alicent sits across from you, before beckoning for a maid who places two cups on the low table and fills them almost to the brim with a honey-coloured wine.

“You know... you can tell me everything ,” she says in a hushed tone when the maid has gone, and you think it strange to gossip with the queen about such things as suitors, stranger still that her son is the man in question.

What could you possibly say? What did she want to hear?

You let those questions go unanswered for long enough that Alicent speaks again.

“I noticed you were riding Ōños,” she suggests, still trying to draw you into the conversation she wants to have, and her eyes are wide and probing, desperate for any scraps of information.

“I was.”

“Strange ,” she continues, undeterred by your lacklustre answer, “I don’t believe my son has ever allowed anyone else to ride his horse.”

“Then I should consider myself quite fortunate. Ōños is truly a wonderful horse.”

“If he is wonderful then it is thanks to Aemond, my son is so diligent in all matters as I'm sure you must have realised by now?”

“Prince Aemond is certainly...” single-minded, cocky, competitive, “ dedicated .”

She blows out a small breath of satisfaction, seeming glad to imagine that you might see him as she does. Her golden boy, her perfect son.

“He told me you almost beat him at Cyvasse the other day,” she smiles, delighted by the idea, and you try not to laugh. The last game you’d played with Aemond had been in his room, and he was letting you win, not succumbing to it.

“That is an exaggeration,” you insist, wondering what else Aemond might have mentioned to his mother.

Yet, her lips purse, and from the way she sighs, you imagine he has said as little as you are saying now, and you don’t know why, but you feel the sudden urge to reveal more. Maybe it's the way her eyes turn down or because, no matter the people surrounding her, she always seems so lonely.

“The prince...” you begin and already you regret your words, but you can’t stop now, “was so kind as to give me a tour of the library yesterday.”

“He did?” she brightens, “and what did you think?”

“That it was very beautiful.”

“And where you will always find my son, if you should ever have cause to look for him...” she leans forward, seeming to forget decorum in favour of answers, “ do you? Have cause to look for him I mean?”

“Not that I can recall,” you say, feeling certain that Aemond was not the only single-minded member of his house.

“Do you picnic here often?” you ask, changing the subject and Alicent’s eyes turn wistful, her gaze wandering across the camp.

“I used to bring my children here all the time when they were small, away from court where they could just be . It's so wonderful seeing Jaehaerys and Jaehaera here now.”

You turn your head, to look where she looks, and find them charging across the clearing with their wooden swords and shields clutched tightly in hand. But it's the determination furrowed into their brows which really catches your eye, and they seem to have only one opponent in mind when he strides from the woods- Aemond .

Your heart skips, your cheeks flushing again as you watch the kindly way he reacts to their advance. Dodging their strikes, his laughter teasing but not mocking, before he scoops Jaehaera up, stealing her sword and using it to repel her brother.

You watch them play for quite some time, content in the silence before the queen speaks again.

“If a lady might wish to stay at court...there is always ample space in my retinue.”

“That is very kind of you,” you admit, turning to face her, “but I am still very much looking forward to returning home.”

“Oh? And what, might I ask, is there to look forward to?” she pries, sipping her wine, her brow raised, “a suitor , perhaps?”

“Well... there is…” no suitor at all, only Lord Henry, but you could not tell the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms that you would rather return home to a cat instead of marrying her son, “my other sisters, of course.”

“Of course.” She stares at you for a long moment, her finger brushing the patten embossed on the cup, “so many Baratheon girls and not one proposal this summer? Your mother must be beside herself.”

“Not really,” you choke, glancing down to retrieve your own cup from the table and, when you look back at the Queen, her eyes have narrowed, as though she’s trying desperately to read your mind.

“I think my son-” she begins, just as the man in question arrives, chased by the excited war cries of his niece and nephew and, for once, you’re grateful for his overbearing presence, and the very welcomed distraction from whatever she was going to say next.

He falls on the rug dramatically and, from the queen's easy smile, you can tell this is not an unusual circumstance when the only eyes in the vicinity are that of family and very close friends.

“By order of the Queen, I command you to tickle him to death,” she says, and the twins cast their weapons down in fits of giggles, little fingers reaching for all the good tickle spots while you cannot possibly stop yourself from enjoying every single moment of the spectacle.

This was certainly not the Aemond you knew and loathed.

Yet , the more you thought about it, the more you realised that wasn’t true at all. Not anymore.

This was the Aemond who belonged entirely to the people who knew him best, and perhaps that number was limited to less than a handful, and maybe all of them were in this tent.

“Won’t my lady save me from these hellions?” he says, repelling their onslaught with so much gentleness and good humour that your poor heart was skipping yet again.

“I am afraid his grace is on his own, for I can see they are far too fierce to be trifled with,” you say, as though you are completely aghast at the suggestion.

“You are quite right,” Alicent agrees and Jaehaerys seems to enjoy your words, his chest puffing out before he retrieves his sword to deal the final killing blow to his uncle’s ribs.

You wince when it lands, knowing it must hurt terribly and that the winded groan is certainly not part of the game. But Aemond doesn’t shout or curse like your father would, he dies on the rug with more drama than he had fallen, and you must stifle your laughter with the palm of your hand.

Victorious, the children leave, in pursuit of a fresh victim while the queen prods her son back to life.

“I think you enjoy that even more than they do,” she says, and you suspect she might be right.

“I’m merely teaching them how to fight without mercy,” Aemond decides, his eye betraying the serious tone in his voice, as he sits up on his elbow with his hair ruffled from rolling around on the floor.

“Well, since you are in such a good mood for teaching, perhaps you’d like to show the Lady Baratheon how to play hoops?” Alicent suggests, scheming again.

“As it happens,” Aemond begins, a slow smile inching onto his lips, “I seem to be forgetting that I should be staying at least twenty paces from the lady Baratheon, that was the original agreement, was it not?”

You swallow, hard, remembering the details of your alternative agreement, the one where Aemond’s clothes had loosened from his body and your back had been pushed up against a tree.

But Alicent knows no such things and her excited stare flicks between yourself and her son.

“Twenty paces?” she asks quizzically and you’re suddenly wishing the twins really had run him through.

“It was a bet, your grace,” you say, giving Aemond a sharp look, a warning look.

“A forfeit, actually ,” he retorts, the smile still firmly fixed on his face.

“But why twenty paces?” Alicent prods, far too interested in the details, while your heart is pounding far too hard to think of anything good to say. Certainly not the truth.

That you cannot trust yourself with her son. That even now, when you feel like you might kill him for bringing up the forfeit, you’re more annoyed about the consequences. Because you don't want him to leave, not really. Then again, you don’t exactly want him to stay either.

It didn’t make sense, and you couldn’t explain it even to your own mind, but you needed Aemond Targaryen to be both twenty paces away and close enough to touch at the same time.

Gods , you hated him.

“I cannot speak for the ladies precise reasoning,” Aemond begins when it's clear you’re not going to say anything , and the wicked look in his eye is keen to make a fresh appearance, “but I believe she wishes to prevent any further attempts I might make in asking her to be my wife.”

“Further... attempts?” Alicent gasps, wanting to be certain she was hearing him correctly and she was. You'd heard it too.

Why had he said that? Like it was nothing, like it was just something people said.

“At least one more attempt,” he promises, pushing himself from the floor, his bow deep, and his eye only for you.

Then, without another word, he takes his leave, sauntering across the clearing for exactly twenty paces yet not nearly far enough considering how much you want to kill him!

Yet , killing him would have to wait and not just because of the witnesses milling around the clearing or even the way Alicent’s eyes are hot on your face. But because you can’t move or even breathe. Your mouth is hanging open and shock has drained all life from your limbs.

“Hm,” Alicent says, a smile completely overwhelming her face, “so it seems there has been at least one proposal this summer?”

Gods , you feel as though you could die from embarrassment, but you don’t, and you can’t exactly ignore the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Please ,” your voice is as weak as a kitten, your cheeks as bright as the dragon on the Targaryen sigil, “excuse me.”

She holds your stare, your stomach twisting with fresh knots before she nods with a small, pitying smile, “you’re excused. For now. ”

You can’t dwell on what exactly she means by that, and you don’t want to. You stand on shaky legs and do what you should have done when the wheelhouse arrived in camp.

You walk directly to Cassandra and cling to her side, feeling a heady mix of fury and anticipation each time you catch sight of Aemond, and recall the casual way he’d told his mother that he intended on proposing again .

It was yet another humiliation to add to your repertoire, and for a man who had no intention of ever embarrassing you, he was certainly well adapted to it.

You’re glad when it's time to leave and find yourself watching, with some regret, as Aemond races ahead of the procession with Ser Criston Cole, leaving you to travel with Ser Maurin as your only company.

You’d like to say it didn’t matter, that the views were entertainment enough, but you’d be lying. The ride is hot, long and incredibly dusty. Its nearly teatime when you finally make it back to the Red Keep and there is so much fanfare and chaos to mark your arrival that you’re almost certain something has happened while you were away.

The yard is crammed with people, double the amount from this morning and one of them is Otto Hightower, his face stark and serious as he waits to speak with his daughter.

Trying not to stare, you encourage Ōños towards the stable and you’re surprised to see Aemond is waiting for you, resting against a post with a book to occupy his time.

“I trust you enjoyed the ride home?” he says, looking up from the page before snapping the heavy cover shut.

With a sigh, you swipe the back of your hand across your forehead and give him a pointed look. “You know I didn’t.”

He smiles then, easing the book under his arm before opening the stable gate, and you wonder if Aemond’s the reason there are no stable boys or groomsmen to attend you.

“I did as you bid me to and remained at twenty paces for the duration of the picnic,” he says, swapping Ōños’ bridle for a halter and you have to admit, you were somewhat surprised that he’d managed to maintain his end of the forfeit, and less surprised when he reaches to pull you from the horse.

“Now we shall need to make up for it,” he says but you’d anticipated his touch and are quick to dismount on the opposite side to where he is standing with his arms still outstretched.

“His grace seems to be implying that I missed his company. I must assure him, I did not .”

When he laughs, the sound catches in the back of his throat, his arms falling back to his sides. “Then perhaps you’ll be glad to hear we had some guests arrive while we were at leisure.”

You think of the chaos in the yard along with the grave look on Otto’s face. “Who?”

“My sister.”

“Princess Rhaenyra?” you say, not really a question, more the testing of a name which you’ve rarely had cause to speak until now.

“One and the same,” Aemond answers, his tone flat, as he unbuckles Ōños’ saddle before passing you a long brush to brush him down.

A dozen questions spring to the tip of your tongue but you swallow them, suddenly recalling the knowing smirks which Alicent had been aiming at you all afternoon.

Still, it wasn’t Ōños’ fault that his master was the worst man in the entire world, so you don’t throw the brush back at Aemond like you’re tempted to do, you run it across Ōños’ silky white coat with the reverence he deserves.

Afterall, it wasn’t often you were expected to put away your own horse, but there was something strangely relaxing about the mundanity of the task, and you wonder if Aemond thinks it too.

He’s quiet, perhaps even a little pensive, as he inspects Ōños’ shoes before finding another brush so you can work together, and it's a comfortable silence. The hubbub of the courtyard barely carrying past the stable doors.

“I shall be eating dinner with my… family this evening. I don’t suppose you would care to join us?”

“Me?” you scoff. “I’m quite certain I would rather-” you don't say more, you meet his eye, ashamed of your reaction. Dinner with the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was a great honour even if you didn’t want it.

“You’d rather what ?” he moves so he can search your face more readily, “throw yourself from the tallest tower of the keep instead of breaking bread with my sister and her bastards?”

Bastards?

You inhale sharply, your mind stumbling over the word and Aemond let’s its usage swell in the silence, his eye still studying you. Testing you in some way. Perhaps he wants you to challenge him, to call him a traitor, but you don’t. You’re afraid of even hearing such a word.

“Personally, I would rather throw myself into the mercy of the sea,” he admits, and his voice is soft, his fingers reaching to touch your hair, but you move away, thrusting the brush back into his hand.

Just because you harbour no wish to speak ill of his sister, does not mean you have no wish to speak on other matters, “do not think for one moment that I have already forgotten what you said in front of your mother!”

“What I said?” he asks, tilting his head as though he is completely oblivious, when you’re almost certain Aemond could count on one hand the amount of time’s he’d been oblivious to anything.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Marriage, proposals. It was not the sort of thing a person could easily forget.

Amusement flickers in his eye, “refresh my memory.”

“I will not,” you snap, attempting to leave him behind as you exit the stable, but there’s really no escaping Aemond Targaryen’s long stride, and he’s soon hooking his hand under your elbow.

“If you will not tell me of your complaint Lady Baratheon then please allow me to make you a promise...”

You glance back at him, regretting your curiosity the moment his eye darkens.

“Starting now,” he begins, leaning in as though you are conspiring, “it will be no secret that I want you, no matter who is watching us and, when you have my child in your belly, there will be no question over his parentage.”

No question over his parentage?

“There shall certainly be questions,” you retort tartly, snatching your arm away, “such as what in the world I was thinking in allowing you to put it there in the first place.”

“I can suggest at least one reason,” he says, and you hate his stupid arrogant smirk just as much as you wonder what the exact details of that one reason would be. But not enough to ask him, certainly not enough for that.

Instead, you turn back towards the keep and see a man stalking towards you, a stranger, yet you’re in little doubt of his pedigree. Even if it wasn’t for the white hair crowning his head, there’s a certain devilish cockiness which rests so comfortably on his face that you cannot help but think of Aemond. Just older, more battle worn, yet not worn out.

Almost all the women in the yard are watching the way he strides and perhaps it’s because his leather trousers are indecently tight, his shirt billowing in all the places where it doesn’t plaster to his skin.

You imagine he must have been practicing swordplay in the yard for quite some time, and the sword in question is still swinging in his hand, long and dangerous, steel glinting in the sunlight.

“This is my uncle, Prince Daemon,” Aemond says, when he comes to stand directly in front of you, “and this is my Lady Baratheon.”

“Your grace,” you curtsy, and Daemon sinks the tip of his sword into the dirt at your feet, his eyes slowly scraping from your face and down the entire length of your body as though he’s appraising every last inch.

“Well done, nephew,” he smirks, his gaze flicking to meet with Aemond’s and you gasp at the audacity in his tone, your temper flaring when Aemond says nothing to refute him.

In fact, when you tilt your head to glare at him, Aemond’s smiling as though he relishes his uncle's approval. As though the many weeks he’d spent tormenting you was, indeed , very well done.

“Do not allow my presence to interrupt whatever passionate conversation you were having,” Daemon adds, leaning into his sword, his brow raised and his head tilting expectantly.

You open your mouth to speak, to refute whatever ideas he might be having, but before any words break free, you feel Aemond’s hand on your back, the press of his fingers dulled by your cloak but impossible to ignore.

“I was just telling my lady that I shall escort her back to her chambers,” he says, his arm sliding to command yours and you don’t refuse him, doing so would surely be a humiliation on his part and you’re not cruel enough for that.

You dip into another curtsy for his uncle and allow Aemond to lead you away, stopping only when the yard is far from view, your arm hastening from his.

“I shall be glad to escort myself the rest of the way.”

“Very well,” Aemond concedes, his hand’s fastening behind his back, his head gesturing down the hall without complaint.

You start, both confused and surprised by how readily he’d allowed the rejection of his company, but you don’t question it.

You turn, thinking you should be pleased with the situation yet finding yourself quite vexed. And why? You certainly didn’t want Aemond Targaryen to escort you.

Or did you?

No , what you wanted was, in some ways, far worse. You wanted Aemond to want it enough to ignore your own stubborn resolve, and you couldn’t understand that desire any more than you could understand why you desperately wanted him to kiss you.

You begin to walk, cursing every part of your mind which seemed to be succumbing to his infuriating set of charms, and you barely make it more than five paces, before his steps have fallen in time with yours. Not by your side as before, but behind as though you were his lady and he your humble servant.

Stopping, you turn back to face him, “what are you doing?”

Resting back on his heel, Aemond seems to give great thought to the question before answering with a shrug as though it was quite obvious, “ walking .”

“But your room is in that direction,” you say, pointing back down the hall and a smile threatens his cheeks, his jaw tightening just enough to hold it at bay.

“I’m not going to my room, but I’m glad to know my lady has memorised its location.”

“Do not flatter yourself,” you say, quickly turning to hide your own smile, which has escaped, quite inexplicably, onto your face.

Then you begin to walk again, and a tall, leather shadow mirrors your every step. Not at all rebuffed by your stubborn resolve, but diligent, single-minded, and you can hardly stand yourself for how much you enjoy it. Or how forlorn you feel when you reach the door to your chamber, and he turns away.

~~~

Thank you for reading!! :)

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

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holylulusworld · 3 days

Text

Indecent Proposal (20)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, romance, a little angst

Indecent Proposal (19)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Doll, stop tugging at the dress,” Steve tuts. “You look beautiful tonight. Let’s head downstairs. Our guests are waiting for us.”

“The dress is beautiful, but I feel like a whale,” you huff and look down at your body. “I’m getting bigger…”

Bucky puts his hand on your swollen belly from behind. “You’re getting even more beautiful, Y/N.”

You look in the mirror again. Bucky is right, you look stunning in the gown they chose for you.

“Even a princess would fade in the background next to you,” Steve tries to get you to follow them. They decided to throw a party to celebrate your pregnancy and wedding.

You bite the inside of your cheek. The last time you felt like a princess, the night ended terribly. So, this time you are afraid to even let yourself appreciate the beautiful woman in the mirror who stares back at you.

The ceremony was beautiful, and you are more than happy to carry Steve and Bucky’s babies. Still, you are afraid of the future.

Can your feelings and love last in their world? What if anyone wants to ruin what you built with your husbands?

“What’s on your mind, pretty doll?” Bucky whispers in your ear. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared, and…I don’t know. I love what we have, and the babies but…” you sniffle. “I can’t help it. I’m afraid to lose it all. With Scott…I didn’t care if things would end. It’s different now.”

Steve cups your face to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Baby, we won’t leave you. You’re our wife. No matter what the law says. You are ours, and we are yours.”

“It’s not—” you choke on tears. “You or Bucky. I’m scared that other people will try to ruin everything for us.”

“Is this about Rumlow?” Steve softly asks. “We told you to not worry about him. He’ll never get close to you or our babies. Before we let him get close to you, we will break every bone in his rotten body.”

“Steve!” Bucky grumbles. “We do not discuss such a matter in front of our lovely, pregnant wife.”

Steve ignores his husband’s comment. “I tried to calm our wife. She needs to know that we won’t let anything happen to her, or our children. Not now, not ever.”

“What about you two? Can you promise me that you won’t get hurt?” You sniff. “I cannot lose you.”

“You won’t,” Bucky stops you from crying. He soothingly runs his hand up and down your back and murmurs your name. “We promise. You have us, now and forever.”

You sigh as the mansion is crowded with people you don’t know.

You saw a few familiar faces. The blonde geek your husband’s hired to take care of the new security system, or Sam, one of their confidants.

“Buck, can you hold my water?” you whisper in Bucky’s ear. “I need to pee.” He chuckles when you tell him that one of the babies must lie on your bladder. “I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to come with you,” he dips his head to look at you. Bucky wiggles his eyebrows and gives you this smile making you go weak in the knees.

“Not with all the people around, you horny dog.” You playfully swat his chest. “Maybe after they are gone you can follow me to the bathroom.”

“Lemme kick them out,” he murmurs. “We can go down and dirty right now.” Bucky hopefully looks in Steve’s direction, but the blonde shakes his head.

“He always says no but ends up filled with cock,” Bucky says more to himself than you. “I can’t wait to get my hands on both of you tonight. My husband, and my wife.”

Not months ago, you wouldn’t have dared to dream of having two husbands and a baby.

Here you are, standing in front of the mirror to look at yourself with new eyes. The reflection in the mirror smiles back at you as you run your hand over your swollen belly.

“How far are you?” You flinch when a woman suddenly stands behind you. You turn around to look at her. She balls her hands into fists and glares at you. “You didn’t waste time, huh? Last time I didn’t get the chance to find anything out for him.”

“It’s you,” she’s got a barely healed scar on her right cheek, her hair is shorter and black now, but it’s undoubtedly the nurse from your gynecologist's practice. “What are you doing here? How’d you get inside?”

“Easy,” she scoffs while sliding a knife out of her arm sleeve. “I simply pretended that I belonged to the catering team.”

She takes one step toward you, and you take two back. You curse yourself for not bringing your handbag. Now you don’t have a weapon, except for the hand soap on the washbasin.

“What do you want here?” You try to sound confident, but you are scared. Not only for your life but the babies in your belly.

“Because of you and your men he punished me,” she sneers and runs her fingers over the scar on her cheek.

“And yet you come here,” you sidestep her. If you can reach the door you can scream for help. You keep an eye on her while trying to figure out your next step. “Why? If he hurt you, you should’ve run for the hills, not come here into the lion’s den.”

“You know nothing about me!” She snarls and takes another step toward you. “If I kill you now, and cut the bastards out of you, he’ll forgive me…he must forgive me…”

“Please just…”

“Y/N, down,” Bucky doesn’t have to say more. You crouch down and crawl away just in time. He flings a knife at her, piercing her neck.

She drops to her knees, making gurgling sounds. While she struggles to breathe, you curl into a ball, daring not to look at her.

“Buck, Y/N,” Steve storms into the bathroom to find you on the ground, and the nurse dead. “What happened?”

“She…she wanted to kill me and the babies,” you choke out between heavy breaths. “Bucky came…he came…”

“Doll!” Bucky steps over the nurse’s dead body. He easily lifts you in his arms, cradling you against his warm chest. “Did she hurt you? Baby?”

“No…” you sniffle and hide your face in his chest. “She said Rumlow gave her the scar.” Your voice trembles, but you try to give them as much information as possible. “She failed and he punished her.”

“Rumlow,” Steve spats. “He’s dead. We should’ve taken him down like a feral dog a long time ago. His time is running out.”

“I think you should find out who she is,” you lift your head to look at Steve. “It’s important. She could be important, Steve.”

“Consider it done, baby doll.”

“How did you know I’m in trouble, Bucky?” you question. Bucky drops his gaze, ashamed.

“I didn’t know,” he murmurs. “I came here to seduce you.”

“Bucky,” you softly say. “You couldn’t know.” You cup his face and make him look at you. “You saved me because you’re a damn horny dog.” Putting a brave face on, you smirk. “And I love you for being who you are.”

“How did she even get into the house?” Steve grunts. “We have more security than the goddamn white house!”

“The catering service,” you murmur. “She pretended to be one of them.“

“FUCK!” Steve slams his fist into the tile wall. “We shouldn’t have planned a party. That bastard almost got her, and our babies killed.”

"Steve, your hand!" You gasp seeing Steve's bloody knuckles. "I need to check on you."

“Well, Natasha had her chance,” Steve says while cracking his neck. “Now it’s hunting season…”

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #mafia au #Indecent Proposal (20)#mobster!bucky barnes #mobster!steve rogers #x reader #female reader

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ghostssweetgirl · 2 days

Note

Hii!! I just wanted to say i love your work and i had a request 😋

could you write a fic (or hc) where ghost finds the fem!readers sh scars? like she’s sitting in between his legs and he’s holding her thighs and he feels the scars. he asks her to show him and she explains (she’s a little insecure cause she thinks he’ll judge her but he doesn’t) them and he makes her promise that she’ll come to him for help??

(if this makes you uncomfortable please don’t feel the need to write it🙏🏼)

Omg thank you sm <3 also on another note to those reading this (followers or not), I’ve been on and off on here. I’m getting to a point where I can start writing semi-often again. If you go a little further down my blog, I’m also about to start another series (it’s planned and 0% written).

It’ll be short-ish, but yeah, I’ll give it a shot.

If you didn’t read all of the above, this will contain mentions of self harm and bodily scars and mentions of non-specified trauma.

Minors do not interact

You were unwinding with Simon at the end of the night, in between his legs on the ground looking up at the night sky.

It’s been comfortably silent. Not needing much words to help each other decompress after the recent missions you’ve been assigned. Your back against his chest, his calloused fingers softly rubbing against your arm that rested on his leg.

“Y’ a’right, luvie?” He spoke softly. “Anythin’ goin’ on in that pretty lil head?”

You smile, and think about it. You take a deep breath. In all honesty you couldn’t even think of where to start. You don’t know if you’re okay. But you feel okay right now. That’s all that matters. You finally decide, and quickly shake your head. “Mm-mm. No, I’m good. And you? Are you okay?”

He sighed, his hands tracing the top of your thighs. He plays with the fabric of your shorts for a moment and rests his chin on your shoulder. “No, ‘m fine. Fine right here.”

You close your eyes and your thumb rubs small circles against his wrist, his hands’ movements slow as you feel him gently soothing over an arrangement of scars on your thigh. Some deep and overlapping each other. Some light. You shudder and hold your breath for a moment.

It was part of the reason you joined the military. The hell you had to face in your former life essentially pushed you over the edge. And it was the only thing that felt like a proper release.

You didn’t want to talk about it, really. Even though you were safe with Simon. You didn’t want to feel the shame of being judged. If anything, you knew if anyone understood, he definitely would.

But it’s still not your favorite conversation.

Ugh.

He studied them for a while, tilting his head. Not in a judging way, you managed to take a look and saw his once stoic gaze become soft, almost pained. His brows furrowed as he cleared his throat.

“Can…” he gently scoots away from you, caressing your shoulders as you lean up and hesitantly meet his eyes. “Can you show me?”

You sigh, holding your hands over the area. “I… I don’t really…”

You stutter and ramble, unable to get the words you want out.

“It’s a’right, I’ve got you,” he cupped your cheek.

You turn more towards him, enough to where he can see, thank god for the dark sky, the moon light was enough for him to get a general idea and look over without him seeing the anxiety on your face. He held your thigh, and leaned down to press a gentle kiss against your scars.

You were completely froze at this point, not in a bad way. His reaction was a lot less… well, you don’t know what you expected because you would have avoided this if you had the choice.

“It’s… from my past, and—”

“You don’t have to tell me what you don’t want,” he comforts you, pulling you to his chest.

“But what I do want,” he looks down at you. “I need you t’promise me you’ll come to me when you need help or anything. Anything. Anytime. Okay?”

“Please.”

It wasn’t like him to beg. But he needed you to be safe. Safe from bad people, from the horrors of the world and from the horrors of your own demons.

You nod your head in agreement. “Okay.”

He grunts approvingly, his grip on you even tighter now and it goes back to silence just like before. The least you could do in return is offer him the same he does to you, so you cup his cheek, cradling his face as you whisper to him.

“And you come to me for anything. Okay?”

His eyes close in relief as he rests his forehead against yours and if his embrace wasn’t tight before, it’s almost a death grip now as both arms squeeze your whole body, a silent ‘thank you’.

—

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley cod #Simon ghost Riley comfort #simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon riley x fem reader

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to-the-stars8 · 3 days

Text

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Plus One

Galas were exactly what you expected. It was a room full of rich, middle-aged people talking about the latest upper-class gossip with the most divine food. It would usually make anyone not from the dazzling world of the Gotham elite shiver and shake.

Fortunately, you weren’t just anyone. You were the nanny for Bruce Wayne.

The week before, Mr. Wayne had informed you that you would be attending the gala with him. At first, you were thrilled and honored to be invited along, but the dream of catching a rich man was cut short when Mr. Wayne added you would be watching Dick and Cassandra. Luckily, you loved the two kids like they were your own, so it caused you little grief.

“What about the other kids?” You had asked.

Bruce spared you a passive glance as he tended to some papers in front of him. “I have a rule that the kids can’t join a gala before age ten. And, please, don’t try to bring the younger ones. The kids already understand this rule. In any case, they don’t want to go half of the time.”

You scoffed, telling Mr. Wayne that you weren’t planning on bringing the rest of the kids despite that being exactly the case. Luckily, he had taken some measurements to dissuade you from doing so, i.e. promising you more days off.

The younger kids moaned and groaned about not going when they heard that you were going to be there, and Mr. Wayne was only able to soothe them over with a promise to Disney World during spring break. Then, the day came for the gala and the only ones ready were Mr. Wayne and you.

“Sir,” Alfred had said, coming into the foyer where you and Bruce had been waiting for Cassandra and Dick. “Master Dick and Miss Cassandra have changed their minds about the gala.”

“What?” Bruce said, going to call them down before you stopped him.

“You said it yourself, Mr. Wayne, half the time the kids don’t want to go.” You started to take your coat off in anticipation of having to stay with the children.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asked.

“Someone has to watch the kids,” You said, going to hand your coat to Alfred, but he didn’t take it.

Alfred spoke pointedly to his charge. “Master Bruce, I can take care of the children, I did it before and I don’t mind doing it again.”

“I…” Bruce began, pausing to look at you before nodding. “I mean, you’re already dressed and I’m out a plus one. Plus two, actually.”

You grinned, shrugging your coat back on as you followed him out the door.

And that’s how you ended up sitting with the Gotham elite telling another one of your long, intriguing tales. Bruce, looking at you from across the room, was surprised at how well you managed to acclimate yourself to the setting. Usually, when new folks entered the closed-off upper class of Gotham it was like throwing a person in a starving lion’s den. Somehow, you had managed to befriend the lion.

Bruce was too busy watching you to see Harvey saunter up to him, eyes switching between his friend and you. Harv could understand why his friend was staring. You were beautiful, sitting there so poised in a perfect-fitting blue dress as you charmed your way with the small crowd around you.

With a small smile, he finally addressed Bruce, “Something caught your eye?”

Bruce didn’t seem surprised by Harvey’s sudden appearance. “Not exactly. I’m more impressed by just how well she’s doing, and that she’s not embarrassing me.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Harvey admitted.

Bruce shrugged, trying to be dismissive. “I’m her boss. I don’t think I’m meant to be too nice.”

“She watches your kids, so I’d be careful.”

Bruce chuckled and shook his head, eyes going back to you. The longer Harvey watched his friend, he could see the wheels turning in his head. There was something Bruce didn’t want to admit, but it was stuck there behind his eyes.

Harvey, always the one to create his own amusement where it wasn’t provided, leaned in to ask, “So, is it okay if I ask her to dance?”

“I don’t care, Harvey,” Bruce said, eyes not leaving you.

“Then, would you care if I asked her out?”

Harvey finally got his friend’s attention. “I’m not her father, so you don’t need my permission.”

“Oh,” He said, thinking about how risque his next words would be but decided to damn it all. “So, I can take her home tonight, too?”

“Don’t be a pig, Harv,” Bruce mumbled before throwing back the rest of his wine. When the waiter passed, he quickly replaced it with another.

Harvey took that as his cue to go over to you. Upon his approach, your eyes trained on him like he would be your next target for whatever you had planned. Excusing yourself, you stood up and met him halfway. Harv couldn’t say exactly why but suddenly found himself flustered.

You held out your hand expectantly, and coyly said, “I believe you were going to ask me to dance.”

Speechless, all Harvey could do was take your hand and smile.

—

Bruce tried to watch passively, but he just didn’t like the way Harvey was using you. He might have had some qualms about your behavior, but no lady deserved to be treated like a piece of meat. Alfred had raised him better than that.

He thought about going in to cut in, and the only thing that stopped him was the flock of women that suddenly came to him. They were all asking about you, the ‘odd’ woman who had arrived on his arm of all people. Bruce attempted to not be offended on your behalf. He only half listened as they talked at him, asking asinine questions like what it was like to be so rich and if he really did date a princess for a solid week. He did, but it wasn’t a short-term relationship he wanted to delve into when you were only twenty feet away from being sized up for the taking.

It was a little while later when Bruce looked up again to find you and Harvey missing from the dance floor. Worried that you might have fallen for the devilish suave lawyer trick Harvey tended to put on, he tore himself from the group.

Bruce stopped to ask a waiter if he had seen you leave with a man in a navy suit. “I think I saw the lady go out the side service door.”

Okay, he thought, this was a bit more concerning. Following the waiter’s directions, after tipping him a hefty hundred, he did manage to find you again. You were huddled up on yourself against the evening chill with your phone pressed up against your ear.

“What did I tell you two about pulling hair,” You said, tone stiff with passive irritation, as you slowly paced in a circle. “You’ll go bald. So, listen to Alfred and go to bed. If I come home to you all awake no Disney.”

You turned to see Bruce standing there and pointed to the phone, mouthing that it was the kids. With a few exchanges of light threats followed by some sweet soothing did you finally end the call.

“Kids, am I right?” You huffed, hands on your hips. “What’re you out here for, anyway? Last I saw you, you were entertaining some ladies.”

Bruce leaned against the wall, reaching into his suit pocket for a pack of cigarettes, and said, “Didn’t think it would be appropriate if you stepped out with Harvey.”

“Him, hah!” You snickered, holding your hand out for a cigarette. “I had him pegged right from the moment he was crossing the dance floor that he wasn’t thinking with the right head. Guess it was a bad idea for me to accept his offer for a date, but oh well.”

Before Bruce could reach for a lighter you were already pulling one from your little handbag. You lit your cigarette before stepping close to light his. He told himself the cigarette was taking his breath away and not the smell of your perfume.

“What was that phone call about,” Bruce asked, wanting to fill his mind with something other than you.

You blew out some smoke, smiling as you explained, “I decided to check on the kids, and, it turns out, Tim and Jason have some sort of beef going on.”

“I think Jason didn’t like it all too much when I brought Tim home—made him feel like a replacement.” Bruce was smiling a little despite how sad the story sounded. “We’re working it out.”

“I couldn’t tell,” You sarcastically remarked, side-eyeing him. It was easy for Bruce to say they were ‘working it out’ because you did all the work. You drew in another puff before looking at the cigarette in your hand again. “Hey, what’re you doin’ carrying these around? You seem too tight-laced to smoke.”

“What’re you doing asking so many questions,” Bruce meant to say playfully, but it sounded too defensive. Before you could rebuff, he added, “I took them away from Dickie.”

You gasped. “No.”

Bruce was grinning now, thinking about it. Alfred had caught Dick and Jason smoking behind the garage one day, and, boy, did they get the lecture of a lifetime. He had forgotten about the pack, having thrown it into the glove box of his car, until he ran into a particularly rough night at a gala. Now, he’d gone through most of the pack.

You shook your head. “That boy is something else.”

“I know,” Bruce said. “I love him to bits. All of them.”

“I know,” You said quietly, looking up at Bruce through those long lashes.

Damnit, you were beautiful. Shaking his head, Bruce threw the last bit of his cigarette to the ground before offering you his hand.

“Let’s go back in, hm? If we’re out here too long they’ll assume I have you hiked up against the wall.”

You rolled your eyes and said cheekily, “A girl can dream.”

Bruce snickered as he tried the door, but it didn’t budge.

Damn, he realized he’d just locked the two of you out of his own gala.

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the-avengers-not-the-nazis · 16 hours

Text

Said, I was sorry

Summary: You’re pissed at Dean, and Sam and Bobby find it amusing.

Word count: 0.9k

A/n: Once more not my favorite, but still hope you guys enjoy :)

༺═────────────═༻

The silence you gave off aggravated Dean to a higher level. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d apologized, tried to cheer you up with a slice of pie, he even listened to both Sam and Bobby on how he could make it up to you.

But to no avail, you barely spoke to the poor man.

He knew it was his fault, anyone could have told him that. In fact you reminded him plenty of times on the ride back from the case. God, that ride back to Bobby’s was dreadful, you made Sam sit in the backseat and wouldn’t even let Dean turn his music up all the way either.

But, he would take that as punishment, if that would mean you would speak to him again.

“So,” Bobby started, voice low as he watched you leave the small library of his. “What did you do to her?”

Sam bit back a laugh, hand coming up to his his smile from his brother. “Shut up.” Dean told him, hands coming up to rub his face. The long quiet drive back having drained his battery. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bobby leaned against the desk, arms crossed over the other as he stared at the younger man. “What do you mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’? She’s barley looked or even spoken to you since you’ve been here. Now, what the hell did you do?”

“I- I messed up on the hunt, ok.” He finally told him, head hanging low for a second before meeting the man’s eyes again. “We were hunting the shapeshifter, and we were lead to an old drinking well out at a farm.”

Dean let out a deep sigh before continuing, “And you know Sam and I were to big and too heavy to go down the well, so Y/n had to do it.”

“So you, what? Forced her down the well, threw her down?”

“No.” Dean muttered, slowly pacing the small library. “No, we tied a rope around her and we hoisted her up and over into the well, and-“

“We?” Sam asked, a playful smile dancing across his lips. “I think I went back to the farm house and tried to find the shapeshifter.”

“Ok, then, I hoisted her up and into the well.” He corrected, shooting an annoyed look at his brother. “And it was going great, I had a firm grip on the rope, she didn’t slip. But…”

Bobby quirked an eyebrow, “But?”

“But, we found the rope in an old shed, and as I was lowering her down the well, I saw- I felt a uh.” Dean lowered his voice, embarrassment seeping its way into his body. “A spider.”

“A what?”

“A spider.” Dean told him a bit louder.

Bobby looked between both Dean and his brother, taking in the shame one had and the other trying to hold in his laughter. “Dean, what did you do?”

“I let go of the rope, by accident.”

A chuckle forced its way past his lips, a hand coming up to hide his ever growing smile. “So, what your telling me is that you dropped Y/n down a water well, because you saw a spider?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Dean tried to defend himself, his tone rising as both Sam and Bobby erupted into fits of laughter. “It crawled up my hands, got under my shirt. It was gonna bite me.”

“She had to ride the whole way here in soggy clothes, because we didn’t bring any dry clothes with us.” Sam told Bobby,

Bobby laughed a bit more at the younger man actions, a hand coming up to wipe away at his eyes. “Look kid, just be nice to her, she’ll have to forgive you sooner or later.” He told Dean, keeping his voice low as he heard you make your way back to them.

You came back with three beers in hand, passing two off to both Sam and Bobby before opening your own. Dean held out his hand expecting you to place a glass bottle in it for him, but just watched as you sit behind the desk taking slow deliberate sips of your drink.

“I would like a beer.” Dean told you, hand coming back down to rest by his side.

“Ran out.” You told him bluntly, flicking through a book that sat on top the desk.

Dean pulled his lips into a thin line, dodging both Sam and Bobby’s eyes. “What do we have?” He asked, needing something to quench his thirst.

You looked up at the older man, pretending to ponder the question. “We have water.”

“Then can I have water?” A cough came from his side, glancing over he caught Bobby and Sam giving him a look. “Please?”

A sigh left your lips before you got up once more, disappearing past the doorway and into the kitchen. “See,” Bobby told him, taking a quick sip of his beer. “Just be a little nice and she’ll forgive you in no time.”

You retured quickly, placing a cup onto the bookshelf next to Dean. Reaching over he picked up the cup, twisting it in front of him, a small scowl resting on his face as he faced you. “This is ice, Y/n.”

“Yep.” You told him, returning to your seat.

“I asked for water.”

“You can wait.”

Dean let out a sigh, placing the cup back onto the bookshelf, “I can wait.”

#castiel #crowley #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #lucifer spn #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #castiel x reader #crowley x reader #lucifer supernatural #spn fanfic #spn rewatch

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lululandd · 10 hours

Text

wrong;

pairing: könig x f!reader

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: fluff?

note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)

summary:

of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.

bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..

—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.

no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.

until you slipped up, of course.

you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.

hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.

horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.

the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray.

“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”

“two months.”

“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”

he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.”

you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.

“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”

horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”

perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.

“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.

stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”

thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.

“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.

könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.

“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.

“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”

“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance.

to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”

the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”

your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.

what.

blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?”

his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”

“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”

nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”

you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.

as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”

plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”

she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”

“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”

stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”

she’s right.

but,

he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.

you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.

“your funeral, bunny number two.”

—

you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.

hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?

staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.

the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.

“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”

she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.

the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.

you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.

“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.

putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”

crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”

as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.

“come in, then.” she offered.

taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.

the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.

stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat.

könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.

bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.

“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.

first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.

“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.

bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.

“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”

you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing.

bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.”

the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”

hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.

he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.

oh no.

looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.

at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.

you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”

“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.

you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”

as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.

a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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