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#i pointed to the small rock. then to the picture. and said that they were different. it was a salivary stone
hugejk · 17 hours
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2 years.
due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3
cw: addiction mentioned, rehab
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After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.
you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.
“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”
the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.
You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,
“my flight got rescheduled for today.”
“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”
“my parents have a room for me at their place.”
heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.
as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.
“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”
the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.
fuck.
“…do you want a picture?…”
you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.
you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.
“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“
he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.
“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”
you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.
“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”
the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.
“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”
you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.
now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.
you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,
“what’s this all about?”
“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”
that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?
But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.
you open the door and walk up to the front desk,
“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”
you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.
“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”
crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.
You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.
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tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr
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batz · 11 months
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i really think that some doctors need to be mauled by wild animals what do you MEAN didnt believe theres glands under your tongue!!! how many millions of years ago did he go to medical school!!! im so mad for you right now
i think some doctors just get like disillusioned or whatever but its NO excuse for them to not know that there are salivary glands under the tongue or other very normal things to know. and then be v rude and dismissive about very normal concerns. but maybe the doctor did know what was going on and just wanted me out of the clinic asap.
but also ive had to point out like rlly normal anatomical things to doctors lately im wondering if walk in clinics are just hiring randos off indeed at this point LMAO
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pathologicalreid · 4 months
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separation anxiety | S.R.
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spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.
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Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.
Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.
You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.
Derek Morgan: Got a sec?
It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.
So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.
Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.
You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.
Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.
Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.
Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.
“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.
You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.
Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”
Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.
“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”
You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”
The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”
Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.
“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”
As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.
Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.
Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”
“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”
Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”
You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”
“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.
Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”
Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”
You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.
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the-offside-rule · 4 months
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Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Picturesque
Requested: nope
Warnings: an undeniable feeling of being single
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Oscar and Y/n had finally managed to take a well-deserved vacation, escaping to a secluded seaside town where the pace of life was slower, and the views were breathtaking. They had chosen a hotel that Lando had recommended due to how secluded and private it was and since the couple desperately needed some time to be intimate with one another, they obviously looked into it. The hotel was perched on a cliff, with a balcony that offered panoramic views of the ocean.
"I'm so tired. I didnt realise how much I needed to relax." Y/n chuckled as she slumped down on her chair. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, the couple decided to not go to the hotel restaurant for dinner and instead sat across from eachother on their balcony, with some room service. Oscar couldnt take his eyes off his beautiful girlfriend as a gentle breeze rustling through Y/n's hair. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks below was soothing, creating a perfect backdrop for their serene moment. Oscar simply hummed in response as he reached for his Polaroid camera, a recent gift from Y/n. He loved how it captured moments instantly, freezing them in time. He turned to Y/n, who was gazing off into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Her face was softly illuminated by the fading sunlight, and her freckles seemed to glow.
Without a word, Oscar raised the camera and snapped a photo. The familiar whirr and click of the Polaroid brought Y/n back to the present. She turned to him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes as the photo developed. The small polaroid slid out,before Oscar began to shake it slowly. "Youre obsessed eith thag thing." She chuckled, leanjng across the table. "I mean it takes great photos. And I thought you looked pretty so I thought I'd make you my muse." Y/n felt her cheeks heating up from the compliment. "This trip is making you so sappy, babe." Oscar shrugged and looked ag the photo. "Look at this." He said softly. Y/n walked around the table and sat on his lap, looking at the photo. "You look so effortlessly beautiful. Your freckles are perfect."
Y/n took the photo and gazed at it, her heart swelling with affection. In the picture, she appeared peaceful and content, a small smile tugging at her lips as she stared at the horizon. "It's beautiful." She murmured, her voice filled with emotion. Oscar leaned in closer, his eyes reflecting the same warmth and love that filled Y/n's heart. "Just like you." He whispered, planting a gentle kiss onto her cheek. Y/n reached for the camera and got up quickly, a playful glint in her eye. "Your turn." She declared. She pointed the lens at Oscar, who was now gazing at her with a look of pure adoration. She pressed the button, capturing the moment forever.
As the photo developed, Y/n couldn't help but smile. There was Oscar, his eyes locked onto her, a look of undeniable love and devotion etched across his face. She handed him the photo, her heart fluttering. "Look at you." She said, mimicking his earlier words. "You can't take your eyes off me." Oscar chuckled, taking the photo and examining it. "Can you blame me?" He replied, his voice thick with affection. He grabbed the photo of her. "Just look at the view."
Oscar opened his phone case and placed the picture inside gently. “I love it too much. Im keeping this close for when I miss you.” Y/n simply looked at him, a bright smile on her face. “I was thinking the same thing.” Y/n followed suit, carefully sliding the Polaroid into the backs of her phone cases, ensuring it was protected but always visible. The pictures became their little secret, a reminder of this perfect evening and the love they shared.
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allaboutsturns · 4 months
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𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚜!
christopher sturniolo x reader
content/warning(s): fluff, lego building, kissing, tickling, swearing.
summary: you bought a flower bouquet lego set and were struggling to figure out how you were meant to build it when your boyfriend chris walks into your shared room and offers to help.
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you stared at the scattered array of orange, yellow, white, and green lego pieces that decorated the hard wood floor of you and your boyfriends shared bedroom with an annoyed expression painted across your face, “ugh!!” you groaned, impatience starting to boil through your veins.
you had been trying to put together this lego bouquet for probably thirty minutes now, but with each attempt came failure. you just couldn’t figure it out and you were too stubborn to ask for help. you knew if someone offered help, you’d take it without hesitation.
“this is really starting to piss me offfffff!” you huffed. you heard footsteps walking down the stairs towards the bedroom that you were in. instead of getting up to greet whoever was approaching, you placed your head in your hands allowing defeat to cast a shadow over your body.
you rocked back and forth in your criss-cross position on the floor. you heard the door open which was followed by a little chuckle, “baby, what are you doing?” a familiar voice asked. you groaned before throwing your hands up into the air as a surrender.
“i can’t figure out this damn lego set,” you mumbled as you jutted your bottom lip out into a fake pout, finally looking up at the boy who had entered the room. it was your boyfriend, chris. he was wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants.
“well i don’t think you’ll be able to figure it out without the manual for one,” chris said with furrowed brows as he grabbed the manual out of the small garbage can that resided in the corner of the room. you rolled your eyes at him, too stubborn to fully admit he was right, “well… yeah..” you grumbled.
“and two, the pieces are scattered everywhere, ma,” he paused as he scanned the floor, finally continuing, “you have to keep the pieces organized.” he said with a small laugh as he walked over to you, patting your head gently before sitting down next to you.
“can i help?” he asked before planting a small kiss to the tip of your nose. you felt a smile tug at the corners of your lips as you nodded, “yes please,” you answered, finally letting the smile take full control of your expression.
chris smiled back, planting another gentle kiss to your lips. you smiled into the kiss before pulling away and looking at the unorganized mess of lego pieces in front of the two of you, “okay so… organize?” you asked. chris nodded his head as he hummed a response, “mhm!”
the two of you began organizing orange with orange, yellow with yellow, white with white, and green with green.
after you finished organizing the pieces, chris picked up the manual that he had placed on the floor next to him a couple minutes previously. he flipped it open to the first page of instructions and you leaned over, laying your head on his shoulder as you looked over the page with him.
“okay so these pieces,” he started, pointing at the green pieces, “go like this,” he continued, now pointing at the picture representation on the instructions. he placed the manual down, in front of the two of you this time, leaving it open to the first page.
you both began grabbing pieces and connecting them together. sometimes you would pick up a piece he needed and would hand it to him, vice versa.
after about thirty minutes, you and chris placed the final lego piece onto the build together. with one final click, you guys had finished.
“we did it!!” you cheered. chris laughed and pulled you into him, kissing your head and face excitedly. you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he was.
you laid in his arms as you both looked at your completed lego masterpiece. after about five minutes of just looking at your hard work, you felt chris’s body shift and you looked up at him. he looked down at you and a mischievous smile crept across his face. you shook your head and tried to escape his grasp but it was too late, he was already tickling you.
“chris! shit- no! please! stop- oh my god!!” you screamed through a laughing fit. you tried to wiggle free but couldn’t escape his grasp. you were both laughing uncontrollably.
all that could be heard from your room were squeals and screeches and laughter, “baby, stopppp!!” you begged, laughing so hard that tears began to form at your waterline.
“fineeee,” he sighed with a fake pout as he stopped tickling you, “your laugh is just too damn cute,” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes and playfully punched him in the arm, “you’re the worst!” you said with a giggle. he smiled and kissed your forehead.
“i love you so fucking much, ma.” he whispered, pulling you into him as close as he could. you nuzzled into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, “i love you, baby.” you replied as you closed your eyes.
chris ran his fingers through your hair gently as you both sat on the floor tangled in each other. it was moments like these that you both held so close to your hearts. this was a memory you would never forget, “i wish i could just freeze time and stay in this moment forever,” you whispered into his chest quietly. him playing with your hair was lulling you to sleep.
“me too, gorgeous, me too,” he said quietly, “but i’m also glad that we can’t freeze time here because that means i get to make more memories like this with you, more memories that we won’t ever forget.” chris said as he kissed the top of your head. you smiled and nodded, “you’re right.. i love you more than anything.” you spoke the words ‘i love you’ again. you couldn’t help it, you really did love him more than anything and if you could say it to him a million times in a day you would.
“i love you more than anything, ma.” he reciprocated.
eventually you fell asleep in his arms on the floor. he noticed because your breathing slowed and your grip on him loosened a bit. he gently stood up and picked you up bridal style, walking you over to your guys’ bed. he placed you in the bed gently and tucked you in, walking over and turning the lights off before grabbing the lego bouquet the two of you built and putting it on his desk, “i’ll find a little vase for you tomorrow.” he whispered quietly to the bouquet, giving it a little boop before walking over to his side of the bed and climbing in.
he gently pulled you as closely into him as he could and kissed the back of your head before closing his eyes and falling asleep. your breathing synced as you both slept peacefully, dreaming about more memories you hoped to make with each other.
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divider by: @/Kafekitsune
MORE CHRIS FLUFF!!! i’m obsessed w him he’s js so cute (IM A MATT GIRL 4LIFE THO!!) i love building legos so i js had to make one about the reader and one of the triplets building a lego set together. HOPE YOU ENJOYED! (writers block has been kicking my ass btw so i hope this isn’t like… terrible LMAO)
- ace <3
taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter
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scaranation · 2 years
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HII I SAW UR REQUESTS WERE OPEN!!! your writing is so amazing i couldn’t resist sending one in after i had binged everything…
may i request headcanons for a totally whipped al-haitham with the childhood friends to lovers trope throughout the years? as in how he was to reader in elementary, middle school, etc. but if not that’s fine!!! your fic with him liking reader since middle school was so 😭😭😭❤️ reader teasing him was so funny and i can’t scream about it hard enough 🥹
i hope you have an amazing day!!! keep up the good work!
thank you smm that rlly means a lot! im so glad you enjoyed my writing ❤️❤️ i love the friends to lovers trope sm writing this involved a lot of giggling and kicking my feet, whipped Alhaitham is just so cute. Anyway I hope you like this I had so much fun with it too 😋😋
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༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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Pairing: Alhaitham x F!reader
Content: fluff, modern AU, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, (very) whipped Alhaitham
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ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
You’d first met Alhaitham when you were in elementary. He, being slightly younger, was in preschool. Unlike the other kids, he kept to himself, mainly studying a picture book in a secluded corner. Your play areas were separated by a low fence, one which you often loved to climb over.
“Haitham!” You almost fell onto the grass after scaling this fence once again in the break time, peeking over the smaller boy’s shoulder.
“Is that a kangaroo?” You pointed at the picture book enthusiastically. Alhaitham only looked up at you, blinking a few times with his wide green-orange eyes.
“No, it’s a pademelon.” He spoke surprisingly eloquently, tongue only slightly lisping over the syllables.
“You’re no fun.” You sighed, plopping down next to your self-proclaimed friend and beginning to draw flowers on paper with your new crayons. Upon seeing the curious look on Alhaitham’s face, you handed him the green crayon.
“You can draw flowers with me if you want.” You shifted closer. The boy said nothing, only holding the crayon tightly as he watched you happily scribbling.
Once you’d befriended Alhaitham, there was no turning back. He was shy and quiet, but utterly attached to you. You nodded excitedly whenever he babbled on about a new topic, although you never really understood what he was talking about, and played imaginary games with him in the playhouses. He never really understood the imaginative concept, but you would lead the way as he followed along with whatever you said.
“I am the princess, and I am going to become the queen! Bow before me!” You manoeuvred a figurine across the miniature castle.
“No, the crown prince’s wife will become queen when he ascends to the throne.”
“Oh, okay. You’re so cool, Haitham.”
Alhaitham only smiled at you. The truth was, he thought you were the coolest person in the world. He might know all the logistical facts, but he could never weave a story as you did.
“Huh? Haitham, you’re the knight. You need to go to battle!”
Alhaitham was shaken out of his daze when he realised he’d only been staring at you in awe, quickly grabbing the knight figure to move it. Beneath his long lashes, he’d constantly sneak glances at you - looking for your approval that he was doing the right thing.
Whenever you were absent, Alhaitham would ask everyone else where you’d gone. After verifying that - unfortunately - you really weren’t coming to school and shocking his peers with his sudden friendliness, he’d retreat to the outskirts of the play area. He would collect flowers and rocks, gathering them in his small arms - still a little chubby with baby fat - determined to find the best things to gift to you.
When you came back the next day, Alhaitham would shyly press the gifts he’d collected into your hands, eagerly watching your expression. If you smiled, he would too. Truly, although he was too young to know, you were his first love and the centre of his universe.
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MIDDLE SCHOOL
During middle school, you and Alhaitham were in the same class. Due to his intellect, he’d been bumped up by a grade - much to his joy. The truth was, he’d been offered to move higher by two grades, but opted to only move one so he could be with you. Not that he’d ever admit that to you, of course.
Middle school Alhaitham would be better at hiding his feelings. He’d no longer be the the eager boy who openly chased your attention, although he still wanted it just as much. Rather, he’d deploy more subtle tactics, despite them rarely ever working.
It was undeniable that you were quite popular. Given your outgoing, virtuosic personality, you were constantly surrounded by friends. It hurt Alhaitham slightly, knowing that you were his favourite but he wasn’t yours. Despite this, he never changed his aloof demeanour - acting coldly to others, and less coldly to you. It was clear through his gestures that he had a soft spot for you, whether it consisted of paying for your lunch or bringing you snacks.
“Oh, we were supposed to bring a protractor to the test?” You hissed in the silence of the classroom, broken only by the whisper of pencils on paper. The teacher shot you a glare, motioning for you to be quiet.
“Here, I have a spare.” You felt a light tap on your shoulder, and spun around to see Alhaitham holding his hand out. His eyes hesitated before locking into contact with yours, the glasses making them look larger than they were.
“Thank you. You’re so cute, Haitham.” You whispered, shooting him a wry smile before resuming your position hunched over the test paper. You didn’t lie - he really did look adorable, those large eyes and small frame lending him to having a rather endearing disposition.
Alhaitham flushed red, his hands fumbling to close the zipper on his pencil case. He pushed his completed test paper to the side and placed his head on the desk, the hard surface cold on his burning skin. He mentally praised himself for always bringing a spare of every stationery item, just in case you needed it.
Whilst Alhaitham swatted away anyone else who dared ask him for academic help, he’d be almost eager to give you any form of assistance. If you were paying attention, you’d see the way his cheeks flushed when you leaned in to copy his homework, or the slight tremor in his voice when he explained a concept to you. Middle school Alhaitham - now hyper aware of his feelings for you - would be a stuttering mess at times, although that would soon change in his high school years.
“So, after completing the square… this equation can translate to- hey, why are you staring at me?” Alhaitham stopped upon noticing your gaze.
“Haitham, you can be so pretty if you tried a little more. I’m so jealous, you have such nice eyes.” You commented, running your fingers through his soft hair.
“… Why would I seek the superficial approval of others?” Alhaitham huffed, crossing his arms. Secretly however, your words spiralled in his head. Perhaps, if he did as you said, you’d like him too…?
He realised your hand was still on his head, and moved back. You whined in exasperation, flopping onto the desk.
“Your hair’s so soft though…” You mumbled, reaching out again.
“We’re here to study.” Alhaitham snapped, busying himself in flipping through the textbook to hide his red face. He found the content mundane, but teaching it to you made his heart flutter in knowing that he could be of use to you.
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HIGH SCHOOL
Alhaitham in high school was drastically different from his middle school self, to say the least. He’d risen greatly in popularity for being the mysteriously smart and handsome student that barely paid anyone any mind. Much to your surprise, he’d grown even taller than you - making it a lot harder to ruffle his hair. It was rumoured that he’d brutally rejected confessions from many others, and had even made a teacher cry - but the shy boy you knew would never do that, right?
“Where are you headed?” You felt a large hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.
“I’m… going to study!” You stammered, finally looking behind you to meet a piercing amber gaze.
“Studying? On your way to the bus stop that leads only to the mall?” Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.
“Um, yes, a new cafe opened there and I wanted to study in it.”
“Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re going to miss the movie at this rate!” You internally cursed as the loud voice of your friends interrupted your conversation.
“Studying, huh… Well, have fun. Don’t expect me to help you this time.” Alhaitham scoffed, releasing his grip on your shoulder.
He sent you his notes later that night regardless.
It was well known around your school that you were friends with Alhaitham, although you vehemently denied any romantic feelings between the two of you - much to his dismay. Because of this, you often had students approaching you and asking to be set up with Alhaitham. Of course, being the epitome of moral excellency, you only agreed if they paid you.
"You know, this girl in my class is pretty cute..." You showed Alhaitham a picture on your phone.
"You like her?" Alhaitham asked, not even sparing a glance to the picture.
"No, I..."
"How much did they pay you this time?"
"What! I would do no such thing-"
"You know, if you just asked me, I could give you way more than whatever they're giving you. Stop trying to auction me off, I have no interest in such things." Alhaitham snapped his book shut. You frowned, tugging on his arm.
"Please? Just one date with her, I'll do anything."
"Anything?"
"Kiss me."
"Why?"
"Wouldn't it be awkward if I were on a date with this girl, and I didn't even know how to kiss her?"
"Oh, true." Alhaitham internally winced at how you didn't give it a second thought, only leaning in to seal your lips together. Although he'd mastered the art of maintaining a cool facade, if you'd opened your eyes in that moment, you'd see the flush in his face. He reminded himself to close his eyes, recalling the countless books he'd read about the topic. It definitely wasn't how he'd imagined his first kiss with you to be, but he'd take anything you gave him.
"Now, you're going on that date right? Here's her number." You winked, pulling away. Alhaitham furiously tugged his headphones onto his ears to hide how red they were, shooing you away.
"I'll text you her number then, Haitham!"
You ignored the confusing twist in your chest, attributing it to the kiss. After all, sharing a kiss with anyone would make you flustered - surely, it was nothing special.
Regardless of your efforts to make whatever dates you sent Alhaitham on successful, it never seemed to work. In truth, you had no idea how Alhaitham knew you'd been spying on those dates - after all, you were so inconspicuous, posing as a mere passerby. But he'd grown used to your exact demeanour, and no matter how hard you tried to be nondescript, his eyes were inevitably drawn to you. Unbeknownst to you, your eyes were drawn to him too - perhaps that was why you felt a slight twinge in your heart.
"Which popcorn do you like?" The girl next to Alhaitham giggled nervously.
"Salted caramel." Alhaitham responded cooly. Your jaw hung open from where you sat hidden behind a poster wall. Whenever you got salted caramel popcorn - your absolute favourite - he'd raise an eyebrow and inform you of your poor decision making, muttering something about the awful taste. You closed your mouth to smile to yourself. Perhaps he was trying to impress his date with his (superior) choice of popcorn. Your smile faltered when you realised how close they were standing to each other, before you mentally cursed yourself. What were you thinking? Surely you didn’t… have feelings for the very guy you were setting up with another girl…?
You followed the pair into the cinema, sitting a row behind them. They'd chosen a horror movie, which you absolutely hated, but you bore with it.
A few minutes into the film, you felt a tap on your knee. Alhaitham held out a fistful of popcorn to you from where he sat in front, his arm outstretched behind him. You scowled. He'd shown no prior indication that he'd noticed you - did he have eyes in the back of his head? You took the popcorn anyway, frowning at how Alhaitham played it off by lowering his arm around the girl's shoulders.
As the movie continued, Alhaitham wished it was you seated next to him. He hated the popcorn, but he'd gotten it just for you, anyway. His heart beat a little louder every time you reluctantly accepted his offering, although he had to glare at the girl who'd stolen your spot every few minutes to make sure she didn't think he was blushing for her. How troublesome this ordeal was. From an objective perspective however, this was fair exchange. If it made you happy, then he was happy too.
Alhaitham wasn't particularly athletically inclined, although his scholarship demanded participation in extracurricular sports. Hence, he found himself in the odorous male changing rooms for the second time that week. It would've been a mundane practice session (with him showing off a little if you happened to be watching), until he overheard a teammate's plans to ask you out.
"You should do it, I'm pretty sure she's single." Another teammate encouraged the first, the echo of a slap on the back reverberating through the room.
Alhaitham frowned. He'd planned to play the long game, although this was an unexpected interruption to his plans. Of course, there were other people to factor in. How could he have been so foolish as to exclude that from the equation?
"Yeah, I've had my eye on her for a while." The first guy spoke again.
"She's taken." Alhaitham blurted. Blurted, as in - his mind didn't fully weigh the decision before it left his mouth in a measured tone.
"Oh, sorry man. Are you two...?"
"Yes, we are." Alhaitham lied smoothly. He'd figure out how to deal with the repercussions later, but for now, he had to prevent anyone else from asking you out.
"That's great. Wish the best for you two." With a friendly (although slightly forceful) pat on the shoulder, the teammate left Alhaitham to head outside.
Alhaitham’s confession to you was ultimately very enigmatic and confusing, just as he was. Although he’d more or less practiced what he would say, when it came to you, he was always at a loss. You were a contradiction, a threat - both to his plans and his sanity. Somehow, that was what made him love you so much.
“I’ve heard a rumour that you and I were dating, Haitham. How come I never knew about this?” You tutted.
“Ah, they’re just saying mindless things. We’re just friends, after all.” That was what Alhaitham meant to say. Instead, what came out was;
“So what if we are?”
“We’re dating?” You cocked an eyebrow, failing to hide your flushed cheeks. Alhaitham noted this detail, trying his best to control the situation. What on earth had he just said?
“Yes, we are. Since we both like each other.” Alhaitham explained, internally cursing himself for his straightforward delivery. The situation was so outlandish - he’d just made an assertion, then supported it to somehow (very obviously) gaslight you into being his lover.
“You like me?” You spluttered. Alhaitham smiled. You hadn’t denied that you yourself liked him.
“Yes, because we’re dating.”
“No we’re not.”
“We are now.”
You stared at him in stunned silence, shocked by his audacity. But you couldn’t exactly deny his claims.
“Okay, I guess we are then.” Your mind still spun. Had he just… declared your relationship status?
“… Thank you.” Alhaitham murmured. You fidgeted on the spot uncertainly, before finally mustering the courage to peck his lips. Before you could scurry off however, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.
“What are you-”
“I’ve waited years for this. God, you’re so stupid for not realising this earlier.” Alhaitham brought your lips to his, fiercely bringing you in to a passionate kiss.
You closed your eyes, melting into his touch as his hands deftly pulled you flush against him by your waist. Unsure of where to put your hands, you placed them on his chest - feeling it heave with every breath he took. His heartbeat thudded under your touch.
It was strange. Most people thought of him as being cold, almost robotic. And yet, he was so human now, from the light sheen of sweat on the column of his neck, to the flex of his jaw as it worked against yours. The slight tremble of his hand as it rose to rest on your nape, almost as though he too couldn’t believe what was happening.
The two of you pulled away after a while, panting heavily.
“I’ve… got to go.” Alhaitham muttered, walking off hurriedly before he could embarrass himself further. Nevertheless, it was alright for him to be selfish for once, right? It had seemed to work out in his favour.
Despite however much he tried to soothe himself, Alhaitham’s face was red, and a giddiness bloomed in his heart. Any other student would’ve been shocked to see the tender smile spread across his face, breaking that infuriatingly stoic expression. His childhood friend - and his first love - was now finally his.
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Text
HBCU CONFESSIONS.
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Part Three
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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
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roach-works · 1 year
Text
the five animals
First contact was going surprisingly well and no one could figure out why, until we found out about the five animals. 
“There’s what?” Dr Grace Jones asked, politely, standing on the White House Lawn. 
“All five animals,” the alien zoologist repeated, cheerfully. It ate another fancy little sandwich. The President was taking pictures with the Captain, and the zoologist had snuck off to raid the buffet and talk shop with the scientists. “It’s nice to see a planet with the whole bunch! Must keep you guys pretty busy, huh?”
“There are a few more than five animals here,” Dr Grace Jones said, slowly and carefully. 
“Really? Where are you keeping them?” the alien zoologist asked, interested. “We’ve been all over the galaxy and never found more than five.”
“I think,” Dr Grace Jones said, “you should list the animals for me. We’re having translation problems.”
“Oh, sure,” the alien zoologist--his name was something like Chem--said. “Tubes, vermin, small edible, furniture, and water.”
“Water?”
“Yeah, you know, water. Part of the water. You find them underneath the oceans and lakes. You guys definitely have that one.”
“That one.” 
Chem finally seemed to get the idea that they were not communicating. “Something weird must be going on with our translation,” he said. “Do you not have words for any of these things? A tube is something that’s long, with a hole from one end to the other.”
“We have tubes, yes. So. Hm.” Dr Grace Jones looked haplessly around the lawn, then pointed at a nearby sparrow. “We call that a bird,” she said. “There are thousands of different kinds of birds.”
“Oh! Local dialects do get pretty ornate,” Chem said, relaxing. “I think the translator’s working just fine, then. That’s a vermin. It’s eating your food, see? If you want I can set you up with our zoology module on the ship. It only takes a couple hours to get properly certified.”
“...so you’re not really a zoologist?”
“What? No. I’m really the ship’s zoologist. I have a lot of downtime between navigating and piloting because most of the time you’re just waiting for the ship to get through all the empty bits, y’know, in space, so I pick up other certs when I’m bored. I get double pay for any cycle the Captain needs an animal consult. You would not believe the amount of animals that look like rocks, out there.”
Dr Grace Jones finally, belatedly, eats her tiny sandwich, then drinks her lukewarm champagne. Then she says, very carefully, “On Earth it takes us years to get a degree in any field of biology, zoology, animal behavior. To say nothing of the kind of study veterinarians have to do.”
“Well, you locals seem to like things rustic out here, so I’m sure there’s some inefficiencies in the process,”  Chem said, and gave her a bracing pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you that module. We can sort it all out by dinner.”
“Thanks,” Dr Grace Jones said. She stared at the crumbs on her empty plate, then asked, “...What animal do you consider humans?”
Chem stared at her, then her crumbs, then the sparrow, evidently confused by her confusion. 
“What’s a human?” he asked.
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torukmaktoskxawng · 6 months
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Hey I was wondering if I could make the request of an Aonung x human reader who has a bunch of norse tattoos and he's curious about them?
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(Adult Ao'nung by @cinetrix2)
Pairing: Ao'nung/Human!Reader (can be seen as platonic)
Warnings: Cute. Fluff. Aged-up characters. Reader can be seen as gender-neutral since gender is not mentioned.
Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @alinacecee
A/n: I hope you know that by making this request, it got me thinking of getting another tattoo. When I started writing this, I ended up going to a friend's house the same night and begged her to give me an Avatar tattoo. Pic Here.
~~~~~~~~~
With Jake and his family as full-fledged Metkayina now, the reef people have slowly become accustomed to human allies coming and going from their island whenever Toruk Makto gives them a call.
As the years progress, both species actually begin to mingle a bit, and eventually, a small, human settlement finds its way to Awa'atlu. You were the first to live on said settlement, assigned to it by Norm because both he and Jake agreed that your expertise belonged on the island and the Metkayina have grown to know and trust you.
Among those who have gotten to know you were none other than the olo'eyktan's son, Ao'nung. And while it was clear that the two of you were friends, there was still a mystery about you that he had not yet discovered, and that was your physical appearance, specifically your tattoos.
You had several, more than anything Ao'nung had seen on Sky People before, and that was just the tattoos he could see peeking out from beneath your clothes. While some of your ink kind of resembled Ao'nung's, he noticed they took different shapes and didn't have any Na'vi significance that he knew of. Regardless, your tattoos were a small part of why the Metkayina trusted you more than other human allies, simply because you visibly had something in common with them, and he often wondered if yours bore any sort of significance like his does.
"Do all Sky People have tattoos?"
Looking up through your breathing mask, you catch Ao'nung's curious gaze while sitting comfortably in the sand as you work on identifying a rock for your research. Looking back down at your datapad, you reply, "No. Not all."
"Do they only get them when they're of age?"
"No, we usually get them whenever we feel like it," you snort, recalling getting your first one at seventeen, despite the laws stating you needed to be eighteen where you lived at the time. Your mother nearly fainted.
Ao'nung frowns in disbelief, "So there is no meaning?"
"Some tattoos have meaning. Others don't."
"What about yours?"
Your smile is genuine, beaming in a way one does when talking about their favorite interests, "Mine resemble my heritage. Where I come from."
Watching the confusion only grow on the young Na'vi's face, you further explain by pointing out your tattoos, starting with the key-like shape inked into the front of your neck, "It's a Nordic rune. It represents perseverance."
You then peer down and present your arm to Ao'nung, pointing out the tattoo on the inside of your forearm, "Vegvisir."
The word that left your lips sounded so strange to Ao'nung, his ears instinctively twitching at the pronunciation. Looking down at the tattoo on your arm, observing the intricate line work before peering back up at your face, he waits for you to explain the significance, and you do,
"It's meant to appear as a wayfinder. To help the wearer not get lost and find their way home. It's a symbol of protection and guidance."
Your hands then reach up to the collar of your shirt and pull it down to reveal one of your favorite and more prominent tattoos. Ao'nung's eyes widen at such wonderful artwork. At the center of your collar, just above your heart, was the picture of a beautiful, intricate tree, the branches meant to twist and form Celtic knots into the ink, the roots of the tree running down your sternum and disappearing into your shirt.
"This is Yggdrasil."
"Eggdrazil?" Ao'nung felt his own tongue knot itself just trying to properly pronounce the word, but even he could admit it sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.
"No," You laugh lightly while slowing it down pronouncing it to the best of your ability in a Na'vi accent, "IG-drah-sill. It's the Tree of Life. I'm not sure how else to explain it without sounding preachy or confusing, but... it's kind of like your people's Spirit Tree, in a way."
His eyes widen with surprise, staring down at the tree tattoo with newfound fascination at the idea that a human culture could be so similar to his own. Slowly reaching out, his fingers press into the ink on your collar, and you stubbornly stay still, refraining from the pleasant shiver that threatened to run down your spine at the contact.
Inspecting the tattoo with both his fingers and his eyes, Ao'nung finds himself thinking out loud, muttering under his breath, "They almost resemble what a warrior would wear."
You find your smile unapologetically twitching with amusement, "Well, technically, that's exactly who my ancestors were. Warriors."
Ao'nung's curious eyes finally meet yours again, excuding confidence, "And you as well."
Your smile melts into something more genuine, "And me as well. Just like you."
His lips curl into a smile of his own.
~~~~~~~~~
MASTERLIST
RULES
REQUEST
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h-hollieskz · 4 months
Text
ALMOST THERE
introduction | masterlist
->pairing : sub lee know x dom gn reader
->word count : 700+
->synopsis : lee know
->tw : idrk with this one, edging?, use of kitten once (I couldn’t resist sorry)
->authors note : was considering putting this in the tw, but this whole thing is incredibly sloppy and low key shit, but I’m just trying to get back into the habit of posting so bear with me
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What you could only describe as the cry of an angel escaped your boyfriend’s plush lips as your fingers curled up onto his spot, his half-lidded eyes the epitome of a man far too gone to form a coherent sentence. Leaking on his stomach was his achingly hard cock, neglected through your teasing and cruel ministrations and you didn’t have any intention of getting him off any time soon.
Every time his body began to convulse, heart rate rising just a little too high, you’d pull away, leaving him to chase his orgasm desperately, tugging on the binds that held his wrists. He’d never pictured himself in this position and had you asked him a few months ago if he’d consider it he’d have scoffed in your face.
You see, your usually so proudly dominant boyfriend had agreed to a bet, allowing you to take control for one night, granted that you beat him at bowling (his pride certainly had gotten ahead of him considering his shaky skills at the sport). Despite not exactly being so great at it yourself, you still managed to beat him with quite some points between you both. The look on his face had been priceless.
Let’s just say that well, that night Minho learned some things about himself.
He’d already been denied twice at this point, and this is where previously you had given in. You reckoned he could take more though.
Lube squelched as you drove two fingers into his loose hole, aiming directly for his prostate each time and basking in the small yelps he let out, similar to the mew of a cat. His small hands were clasped together, knuckles turning white, in the soft fabric that tethered them together and his legs squirmed helplessly beneath your weight. Your hand danced around his crotch, caressing his thighs which you admired so greatly.
His pink lips were open in a small, delicate ‘o’ as he could feel himself approaching his release again, believing for a second that you were going to let him and whining as your touch departed again.
“Pl-please. I haven’t done anything wrong.” He gasped lightly. It was almost phrased as a question, begging you to tell him what he’s done. His usual grouchy tone returning slightly as he remarked, “just let me cum already.”
It was cute you decided. He believed that it would work. What he didn’t realise is how much harder he was making it on himself as you gripped his jaw like a vice, staring him cold in the eyes.
“Good kittens don’t make demands, they take what they are given.” You said through gritted teeth before continuing “If you don’t want it, you know your safeword.”
His glare began to soften as he gulped, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand found his cock, gliding it up and down his length agonisingly slowly. In a second you’d give him what he wanted, judging that he was right, he had done as you’d asked that evening, and you already pushed him so far. He deserved a treat. You just had to make him suffer a tad bit more first.
“You look so beautiful like this, you know that right.” His scrunched up face barely reacted to your words, but he let out another small whimper. You reinserted your fingers into his wet heat, Minho’s face relaxing slightly as he lost himself again.
It wasn’t long until he was at the edge again, a few beads of sweat noticeable in his hairline. He had gotten considerably noisier, the closer he got, eyes refusing to open right until he tipped over, body convulsing in pleasure as his orgasm rocked through him. It was more intense than any other he had experienced, and you made sure to kiss and ease him through it until the aftershocks were over. A sheen of sweat covered him as he flopped back, and you quickly undid his wrists.
“You handled that so well, baby.” You mumbled into his ear, peppering him with kisses, “did you enjoy it?”
“Yeah.” You faintly heard him say, and you didn’t press for more information.
“Do you want a bath?” You asked, ready to jump up and go run it for him.
“In a few minutes, jus want to lie here with you for a bit.” He whispered into your neck where you held him.
honestly gonna cry
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ataraxiaspainting · 9 months
Text
Careless Whisper.
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Yan Gojo x F Reader.
Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.
Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.
Continuation of There is an Uproar.
Word Count: 1.6k.
Ten Songs Like This Piece:
This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd
Get Up by NewJeans
Supermassive Black Hole by Muse
Bathroom by Montell Fish
Hotel by Montell Fish
Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)
After Hours by The Weeknd
Government Hooker by Lady Gaga
Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys
The Walls by Chase Atlantic
“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve
*~*~*~*
You hold onto the basket like a lifeline. 
You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.
They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.
The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.
Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?
“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”
*~*~*~*
“There’s my girlie!” 
You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it. 
“You ready?” As you ever will be.
“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”
The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.
It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.
It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.
He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.
He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.
You want to puke.
It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.
You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.
You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.
*~*~*~*
He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.
The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.
So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.
“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”
His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.
But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.
“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.
As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.
“Come on! Of course, you are.”
Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.
His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.
“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?
How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?
“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”
“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.
You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.
You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.
You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.
So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.
“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”
For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.
“Romantic, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.
“Boop!”
“Sigh…”
He does it again.
“So cute…”
“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”
He nods.
“Okay! We’re off!”
There is no escape, is there?
“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.
Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”
You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?
He holds the apron up closer to your face.
You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things. 
Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.
Not from him.
But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.
Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down. 
Don’t lose your head.
Evade the blade.
“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”
You do.
Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.
You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
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alexa-fika · 3 months
Note
If your requests are open, how would you feel about child reader being found by Garp, Helmeppo, and Koby?
(Maybe their crew thought they were on the ship and accidentally forgot them on an island or something idk, I just want grandpa Garp with his new grandbaby)
New Apprentice (Koby, Helmeppo x gn!Child!reader x Garp)
A/N YA’LL I COOKED HERE, highkey worried that they are ooc here but other than that I LIKE, proud of how this one turn out, let me know what you think of it. Big brother Koby and Helmeppo 🥹, guys am I the only one picturing that being one of the most wholesome things?
Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese
Dividers by @/saradika
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“Koby, are you even listening?!”
“Haha, I am Helmeppo”
“Seriously, you have got to start….
Koby let out a nervous laugh as Helmeppo began going on a tangent, scolding him as he focused on the path ahead of him, paying little attention to his partner’s rambles, only giving out the occasional quip here and there to keep him appeased, which did, until he spotted something in the path that got his attention.
He frowned, kneeling down to look at the object, catching the attention of Helmeppo, who watched over his shoulder.
“Huh, is that a stuffed toy?” He asked, looking at the dirt-covered wolf as Koby picked it up, wincing at the red splashes matting its fur
“Yeah…has blood on it.”
“Maybe it’s from someone who left it long ago, maybe from a kid who tripped?” The blond suggested
“No, it’s way too much to be from a scrape, and look,” he said, pointing at the path.
Helmeppo frowned as he spotted the small tracks that cut through the path leading out into the small forest that surrounded it. 
“It rained earlier today, so these had to happen recently, and the blood is fresh, too,” he muttered.
“Let’s go,” The pinkenette announced, following the direction of the tracts, letting himself be guided by the disturbed soil, broken branches, and the occasional drops of red that colored the ground.
“Hey do you thi- Hey! What the hell, Koby?”
“Wha-? What’s wrong Helmeppo-san?”
“Don’t give me that you just chucked a stone at me!”
“What are you talking about Helmeppo-san?” Koby asked, confused as he stood up from his kneeling position as he looked at the tracks
“If it wasn’t you, then wh-OW.”
“I -I will hurt you, s-so go away!” A small voice cried, chucking a rock at the marine
Koby let out a hiss, rubbing his head and turning to the voice, easily finding the culprit standing in one of the tree’s lower branches, a small child holding a handful of stones in their hands.
“Hey, how about we put those down?”
“No!” They cried, throwing yet more rocks at both of them
They squeaked as Helmeppo pulled out his swords and easily cut through the stones set his way. What most caught them off guard, however, was Koby’s sudden disappearance. They stared at the spot he had stood at confused, looking around to see where the man had went with no success.
The child released a surprised gasp as they soon found out the man had appeared beside them on the branch.
Koby enveloped the child in a tight but gentle embrace and jumped off the tree; before he had a chance to address the kid, he found himself stepping back, a shocked look on his face as the child pulled a small knife, trying to stab him.
He frowned, watching as the kid took the opportunity to run behind the tree.
“Koby, wait,” Helmeppo called, putting his arm on his partner’s shoulder to prevent him from pursuing the child.
“Helmeppo-san? We should get the knife from them; they could hurt themselves or hurt someone.”
“I think we should try a different way, look,” he said, gesturing to the crying child peeking out of the tree.
“They aren’t trying to hurt someone; I think they are just scared.”
“Ah, I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you; I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Koby cried, taking in the child’s state, letting another cry as the kid ducked behind the tree when he reached out to them.
“Ah, I must have scared you, right? I didn’t mean it; I really am sorry for that,” he apologized, a nervous smile on his face as he sat down. Helmeppo followed suit and sat next to him.
Dokucha popped their head out again, watching as the men sat cross-legged, ways away from the tree.
“Umm, we found this earlier,” Koby tried, showing them the wolf plush.
“Ah! Mr.Okami!” they exclaimed, stepping away from the tree and trying to reach for the stuffed toy, only to realize their actions and quickly step back.
“It’s okay; you can have it back if you’d like; how about we trade?” Helmeppo suggested, pointing to the knife
They seemed to think about it, glancing at the knife in their arms and Helmeppo’s awaiting hand to the stuffed toy Koby was offering to them. Finally, as they slowly made their way to them, they placed the knife on Helmeppo’s hand. The former gave them a small smile as they then walked in front of Koby and grabbed the stuffed toy, hugging the toy tightly as they sat in front of them.
“H-hey, you’re bleeding!” Koby exclaimed, apologizing when they flinched at his tone
Koby glanced at Helmeppo, wondering how they should approach the situation.
“Hey, how about another trade? Your wolf looks like he needs a wash, right?” Helmeppo asks, glancing at their plush
Koby catches on quickly and looks at them with a smile.
“How about we wash him for you, and you let us look at your wound?”
“Y-you’ll keep him safe?”
“The safest,” Koby reassures with a smile.
“Okay”
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“Hey, Mister Koby?”
“Yeah?”
“How..umm…how did you disappear before?” They question, looking away as he glanced up at them from his bandaging work
“Disappear?”
“Yeah, when I umm, when I threw a stone at you, you disappeared.”
“Oh, that? It’s a fighting technique; I didn’t disappear; I just moved really fast. It’s called Soru,” he explained with a grin, his attention back on the bandages being applied.
“I uh- I think it was really awesome.”
“Haha, It was nothing; many marines can do it; Helmeppo can do It too,” he brushed off.
“You’re being too modest, Koby,” Helmeppo sighed from his place at the sink, trying to wash the grime and blood off the stuffed toy.
“It’s going to have to soak for a while to make him all clean,” he called, drying his hands off and walking closer to the pair. Seeing the look on the child’s face, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to them.
“Here, you can take care of our Den-den Mushi for now.”
“It looks different,” they muttered.
“What do you mean?” Koby asked as he clipped the bandage and stepped back
“It looked different in the ship; it was black and white.”
Koby and Helmeppo pause, glancing at each other at the kid’s comment
“Ship?” questioned Helmeppo
“Y-Yeah”
“What did you do at the ship?”
“T-they made me clean the ship, but sometimes they would make me fight o-others or test things for them.”
Those words were all the pair needed to grasp where the child might have come from and what their job at the ship could have been.
“Is that how you got that?” Helmeppo said, pointing to their now bandaged wound
They shook their head at that but made no move to explain themselves.
“Could you tell us about it?” Koby prompted
Once again, they received all but a shake of their head.
“Why?” questioned the blond marine, a frown on his face
“I don’t w-want them to hurt me.”
“They won’t,” Koby answered with a grin.
“We’ll protect you,” Helmeppo confirmed with a slight smile.
“Pinky promise?” they asked, holding out their pinkies.
The two let out a small laugh but nodded and interlocked their fingers with theirs, their pinkies enveloping the child’s much smaller ones.
After sealing the promise, Dokucha proceeded to tell them what had occurred. It seemed like the man who they worked under was dark and twisted, enjoying the creation of painful and deadly viruses and, even more, testing it on the child, letting them reach the verge of death before finally giving them the antidote.
Despite this treatment, it was this same man’s love for pitting his subordinates against each other in a deathmatch that caused them their current wound. As they had refused to hurt the other subordinates, they had found themselves being punished for insubordination by the man.
Koby and Helmeppo listened intently to the child’s story, horrified at the treatment they had endured, and drove the two to tears and sniffles as they embraced them and repeated their promise.
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Dokucha’s lip trembled as they sat on Koby’s lap, Helmeppo sitting next to them, an older man sitting in front of them listening as his subordinates filled him on what had happened and why they had returned with a child.
“Wahahaha! Another one?!” he laughed, his booming laugh echoing around the small office
“What about you, you little brat? Do you want to be a marine? Or do you want to be a pirate and have me beat that out of you?”
“Uh, Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t thin-
“Eek! I- umm- ah-
“Spit it out!”
“Umm, I- I’m not very good at fighting, and I don’t like it either, but I want to be with Koby and Helmeppo!” They exclaimed, apologizing and returning to their timid state once they had realized their outburst
“Wahahaha! That’s a good answer, you squirt. I think I’m going to like you! In that case, you will train under them.”
“T-Train?! Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t think we are ready to train someone.”
“Don’t worry, Koby! You and Helmeppo will turn them into a fine marine!” He exclaimed with a booming laugh
"How about it, kid?!”
“…” They stayed quiet, unaware of the sudden shift of attention, quiet with a strained smile on their trembling face, eyes blown wide at the interaction
“Uh, Dokucha?” Helmeppo asked, leaning closer to the kid, trying to get their attention
“He was asking you,” he explained
“Yes!”
Koby let out a laugh at their rushed answer as he, too, leaned toward them
“He asked if you would like to train with us, to be a marine.”
“I can be with Koby and Helmeppo?”
“Yes, you would stay with us.”
“I - I really would like that,” they answered bashfully
“Good, I‘ll come by from time to time to check on you and give you some private lessons,” he grinned, smashing his fist against his open palm
“No!!” They screamed as they hightailed it out of the office
“Ah, wait, Dokucha, come back!”
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okay I really struggled with the Garp part and the timeskip leading up to him, so do let me know if you liked it. I really struggled him adding him so hopefully it checked the box of Garp and Grandbaby interaction 😂
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
162 notes · View notes
anglingforlevels · 1 year
Text
Open House (Yandere House x Reader)
When people say the housing market is a nightmare, is this what they had in mind? (The story goes out to me because I’m trying to get an apartment and it is Suffering. Please pretend this count as yandere.)
CW: not proofread, unconventional captivity, swearing, I accidentally had too much fun writing Abby and forgot the point of the story-
Minors DNI
When you proudly had reached the saving milestone to buy a small house in the countryside, you had opted to spend some of that money on a real estate agent, figuring it was a good investment, hiring a Ms. Abby Bardot – who, over the phone, had insisted heavily on being called Abby rather than Ms. Bardot – who had twenty years of experience in the field.
Quite quickly, you realized that perhaps she wasn’t the most conventional real estate agent.
Ms. Abby, you quickly noticed at your first meeting, was all hand-wringing and nervous sweating, though she seemed sweet enough, having clutched a tin of home-cooked cookies in all shades of black and almost-not-black, and had heartily insisted you’d take as many as you’d like (which was zero).
She had insisted on bringing you to an open house for what she had called a hidden gem of a house, that it would be a private tour. To you, once she mentioned it would be at 1 p.m., it was quite obvious that “private tour” meant, “no one else has or will be showing up”.
Ms. Abby had also enthusiastically shown pictures of the place, pictures she had ready-at-the-go on her phone, presumably she really needed a buyer for the house.
“Ms. Abby.” You had said, interrupted with a small interjection of, Oh please, just Abby. “Ms. Abby, that’s not quite a house and more so a small manor. I went over my budget with you when I hired you.” Ms. Abby had quickly recovered from the rejection and puffed out her chest proudly.
“Why that’s the best part, this is within your budget!”
You had sent her a dubious look at this. “Are the pictures… How do I put this delicately? Are the pictures recent and unedited?”
Ms. Abby deflated so quickly that it almost felt impressive, almost urging you to clap as if it was a circus performance. Of course, it felt mean had you clapped at her dejected look.
“It’s well-kept, I assure you. These pictures are all recent, I’ve updated them every year for almost my entire career!” She said proudly, and you almost felt pity at the fact she didn’t seem to realize her own slip-up but instead paraded it around like a badge of honor.
Though, all-in-all you were charmed, and somewhat endeared, by the honesty. But not very much by the house at all. “I think I’d like to look at other options, it’s awfully big for just one person.”
“Ah, wait!” Ms. Abby said urgently. “Please, before we continue with other options, let’s first try out the open house this Friday.”
“Is this protocol, Ms. Abby?” Ms. Abby’s lips wobbled at this and… “Are you crying?!”
“No, I’m a professional. Real Estate Agents don’t cry, I’m simply sweating, is all.” Ms. Abby sniffled, dubbing her eyes with a handkerchief, presumably you were meant to believe her eyes were suffering heat stroke on this fine autumn day.
“…Alright, I’ll go to the open house. Just give me the address.” You eventually relented, if only to avoid seeing the pitiful sight of a teary-eyed Ms. Abby.
That’s how you ended up before a grand house out in the middle of nowhere, the closest town was an hour-long drive away. Forest and fields were most of the surroundings, which was why the house was in such stark contrast, standing as a sole presence, the forests and fields shying away to make room for it, leaving a vast vacancy around it, stretching on for at least fifty meters.
It really was a pristine house, when comparing it to the pictures, it seemed to match right down to the placement of every rock and plant in sight. As if someone had consciously placed each leaf and pebble.
The plants and trees of the garden donned vibrant colors despite the season. You wondered how often Ms. Abby came by, or if she had hired a crew for maintenance, as you could not spot even the slightest hint of dirt or spiderwebs.
The only thing that looked aged was, unfortunately, the “For Sale” sign.
It felt a little unnatural, but you chalked it up to currently being a display house, and thus not lived-in either. You took notice of the way the trees beyond the reach of the garden were withered and wrinkled, and the grass yellowy, dry patches, barely hiding the dirt beneath.
“Some more forest could really do this place some good.” You mumbled. You hesitated for reasons you didn’t fully understand before stepping beyond dead plants clinging loosely to your feet and entering the garden.
You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes the further you traveled, the door felt so far when the weight of something cloyingly attentive seemed to drag you down as if to prevent your advances.
“You’re here!” A delighted Ms. Abby yelled out before the sound of pitter-patter was interrupted by a loud thud against the door that rattled the frame. With her energy dampened, a sheepish Ms. Abby appeared behind the front door, simply saying; “It opens the other way.”
Right, something attentive could only have been the attention of the overzealous Ms. Abby.
“Come in, come in!” She invited, all but pulling you stumbling into a most decadently, lavishly decorated foyer. From distasteful stuffed animal heads to the ruby red furniture and mosaic glass tables, it felt quite uncomfortable, all sharp angles and very little homeliness to it, like an ornate display of wealth rather than a welcome into a household.
“Not very welcoming, huh?” You commented, which Ms. Abby elected not to respond to, though the small “eep” suggested she had heard the negative impression.
Looking the room over it was impossible for your eyes not to rest at the centerpiece of the foyer: A huge painting above the staircase. A solemn-looking guy stared out into the air, curly locks framing his face. Old paintings always looked miserable, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was a glint of genuine misery in his eyes. Noticing your attention had wandered, Ms. Abby followed your eyes.
“Oh, that was an owner of the house who had it commissioned back during the Renaissance, they wanted it right here, in the heart of the house.” She explained though you couldn’t say you agreed to a decadent foyer being the heart of a house, and if it was, that wasn’t boding well for Ms. Abby’s already poor sales chances.
“I’ve never understood why someone would want to pay money to look miserable in a painting, like you’re paying for it, at least make yourself smile or something.” Your jab was met with Ms. Abby’s impressive ability to carry on like you had said nothing negative at all.
“You know, the owner claimed it was a Jan van Eyck-original too.” Ms. Abby said as if letting you in on a secret, or town gossip. “Really, we’ve had it appraised.”
“And the appraiser confirmed it was a Jan van-whatever original?”
“…The owner really loved art; you’ll see plenty of paintings throughout the place.”
So that was a no. And speaking of no’s:
“Listen, Ms. Abby, I don’t exactly have the budget for a big house, as I already said. I especially don’t have the kind of budget that the kind of person who’d commission an artist to paint them for their foyer would have.”
Abby laughed nervously. “Well, you see, the value’s dropped as I mentioned. We haven’t been able to sell it for a long time, so the price just kept falling.”
“Right. But even so, it can’t have fallen that much.”
At this, Abby avoided eye contact, wringing her hands before, after a big breath, blurting it out. “The person in the painting was the last person to own the house.”
“Is this place built on top of an oilfield or something?”
Ms. Abby laughed a hearty if a bit shrill, laughter, before sighing and mumbling. “If only.” She clapped. “But! This is a charming house, why, let me show you the many rooms!”
“Ms. Abby, have you ever considered a field outside of sale?” You asked dryly but nonetheless followed along, eager to leave behind the painting, as you felt watched. The house consisted of many sprawling hallways, enough to almost make one dizzy, and you struggled to remember where everything was.
The house had many rooms, none of them particularly inviting, reading more like a historical display room lacking any warmth or heart (and perhaps even worse, any semblance of renovation despite old age), and all absolutely clustered with trinkets, knickknacks, and in the case of the walls, paintings – leaving very little free space.
It really did read like a historical display, as some rooms seemed older than others, suggesting partial renovation must have been done on some of the rooms. You’d like a word with whoever had been in charge of that lackluster, nonsensical effort.
Perhaps the lack of replaced furniture or renovation was why the house periodically seemed to creak and moan in odd ways, at times you almost confused it as Ms. Abby groaning or sighing, only to realize it was the sound of the house itself.
As for Ms. Abby, she remained undeterred regardless of how many snide remarks you made, which you had to commend her for, though the charm you initially had felt from it was quickly wearing off. Ms. Abby actually seemed increasingly happy, humming to herself. She didn’t think the sale was going well, did she?
“How much of the house is there left to see, Ms. Abby?” You asked, increasingly impatient and tired, having been dragged through an unreasonable number of rooms, which inexplicably, almost all were bedrooms (and yet, you had yet to see more than a single bathroom).
“Well, we’re still missing a couple rooms like the kitchen, oh! I know, how about the master bedroom since you’ll be spending every night there.” She said with a beaming smile.
“That’s awfully optimistic, Ms. Abby.” You noted, at this you received a good-hearted chuckle.
“Oh, this place is too lovely to pass up on, I think it likes you – it’s a match made in heaven. If you don’t like some of the features or decorations, it’s easy to change those, so it would be a waste not to live here.”
“I can’t imagine a house as empty as this holding much affection, and I’m not up for a big project.” All you wanted was a small but cozy house, a simple place. You felt exhausted just thinking about the amount of work you’d need to pour into a house like this to make it feel like home.
“Well, it’s perhaps not an easy house,” Ms. Abby admitted, her cheer at this point an unshakeable force, as a sense of confidence seemed to have sprouted in her. “But that’s why when that rare fit comes by one must take the leap and hold onto it.”
You’d feel insulted by the suggestion you were a good fit for this distasteful and unpleasant house, had Ms. Abby not already shown herself as incompetent but well-meaning. You simply sighed, giving up the conversation, figuring you’d find another real estate agent when you came home.
“Well, take me to the master bedroom then.”
Ms. Abby led you through the foyer again, the bedroom apparently at the other end of the house. Your eyes were drawn to the painting once more, its eyes felt more sunken in than before, shadows forming beneath, to which you tiredly sighed. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”
The master bedroom seemed to be at the stopping point to the sprawling hallways on the right. You were just aghast at the fact you had gone through another set of sprawling hallways, you wondered who had come up with the confusing layout of the place.
Ms. Abby tried to imitate a trumpet to build up suspense but trailed off after you shot her an impatient look. After a weak cough, she simply said “Tadaah” and opened the door.
You stopped up, your right foot hanging in the air, about to cross into the room. A sense of foreboding filled you; it was a bit different from the first time, however. The prickling sensation you felt and the cloying attention, it felt smothering, less like a shove away and more like… Being held in place.
Ms. Abby waited patiently inside the room, not commenting on your hesitation, though you had been snarky and displeased the entire tour, so perhaps this just seemed like more of that. You swallowed and ignored the pressure as you put your foot down and entered the room.
The air felt different here. You had hoped the odd sensation would disappear if you just carried on, like when you entered the house, to begin with, instead, it worsened. The air clung to you, terribly heavy and sticky. It took you a moment to actually focus enough to realize Ms. Abby had spoken, so when you finally snapped back to reality, Ms. Abby was standing in the hallway.
“-tively spellbound already. I’ll give you some time to look around and get acquainted together, one-on-one.” And then she closed the door in your face. The room was, oddly empty, compared to every other room. Nothing but a big, red bed, the empty walls that you could’ve sworn were further away when you entered, and that feeling of being watched, lodging into your skin like stitching.
Nothing except an almost empty room that didn’t feel empty enough.
That’s it. Ms. Abby had officially used up all her pity points, you were leaving. You opened the door, a tad more aggressively than what was perhaps called for, but Ms. Abby was nowhere to be seen in the hallway.
For how annoyed you were with her at this point, you found that you missed her company as you walked down the hallway, nothing distracting you from the odd sounds of the house that seemed to have increased. It felt as if the floor beneath your feet moved and rumbled slightly, the velvety carpets uneven and bumpy, as if walking on something breathing, something living.
You wished that Ms. Abby had given you the floor plans, as you struggled to remember how to return to the foyer through the hallways and occasional rooms you had to cross seemed to hold no real rhythm and didn’t feel as if it obeyed any rules about directions.
At one point you could have sworn you turned back, only to be in another room than where you had emerged from originally. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you found the foyer again. Even in your rush to find the door, your eyes were drawn to the painting, though you continued to rush by it. In your haste, it almost looked as if the painting’s colors were smudged.
You attempted to open the door but found it didn’t budge. It was an odd choice to lock the door, but you were certain that was the reason, it had to be. A locked door was no issue from the inside, but even after hearing the click of the lock, the door didn’t budge when you attempted to open it.
You attempted to kick, pry, tear, and even throw your body weight at the door, but with no luck.
Settling in the foyer after your final attempt at prying the front door open, you huffed, out of breath. You laid on the stairs, trying to settle your heart and pulse, when your eyes landed on the painting again.
…You rubbed your eyes and sat up, thinking what you had seen was owed to your tiredness and the upside-down angle, but no. The painting really did look smudged. Like someone had blurred colors and borders together, the hair’s vibrant color having lost its radiance.
And the mouth, it was oddly smudged between the lips, that it almost gave the impression of a mouth being pried open.
No, that was silly, you were being silly. The painting was smudged out, which was already creepy enough on its own, or rather, the house was already creepy enough on its own – your mind was just working overtime and was making up new things to get scared over.
“Well brain, if you like overtime, I guess I’ll have to put you to use and think of an escape. But you don’t have a union, so it’s unpaid hours for you, I’m afraid.”
If the front door was a bust, then you’d find a window. You struggled to recall any windows on the ground floor, but surely there had to be some. Or… That’s right! The kitchen, it had a glass door. You never got around to seeing the kitchen, having mainly been shown the upstairs so far, but you recalled Ms. Abby mentioning it back when she had given her pitch for why you should show up.
You hadn’t been on the left side of the house, at least not on the ground floor, so you figured that was a good direction to begin, in your search for the kitchen. You opened the door, urgency in your steps, only to find you weren’t in an unfamiliar room.
Instead, you were back in the empty master bedroom, which somehow felt much more crammed than any of the other rooms. But… That didn’t make sense. The master bedroom was upstairs, you had fought through a confusing hallway to find the foyer, so this… this didn’t make sense at all.
The air felt oppressive in the room as if your heart would be forced to a halt from the sheer weight of it, like a physical presence. This time you were sure that the walls were closer than they had been before. A bed table had been added next to the bed, and the part of you still delusional enough to hope thought maybe it meant that Ms. Abby was still around. As if this was an elaborate prank.
You tried to swallow despite how dry your mouth felt, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. This was ridiculous. You slammed the door open again, the door shaking on its hinges. Beyond the door, it revealed a hallway, but even if the hallway was confusing, you had been through it twice by now, you could do this, you could find the kitchen or a ground-floor window.
Hurrying along the hallway, it felt as if the floor and walls shifted and moved. Were you dizzy, or was this actually happening? The restrictive air of the master bedroom followed you, as you dragged yourself through.
“Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows when you opened one of the doors. You were sure this was the one you had gone through before, but the room behind was unfamiliar. Cold dread filled you as a horrible thought crossed your mind.
No, no, no. You ran to the next door but behind it was another unfamiliar room. Were the layout… Changing? Your hand trembled as you tried to open a third door, and you felt like crying when all it revealed was the master bedroom again.
A lamp now stood on top of the bed table. Were new things going to be added each time you returned to the room? You thought back to the cramped bedrooms Ms. Abby had so cheerfully shown off. You weren’t sure what to make of it but felt sick all the same.
“I don’t have time for this.” You had to snap yourself out of it. You could spiral and panic later, but for now, you needed to get out. So, turning on your heel, you returned to the hallway. You’d go through each door that didn’t lead to the master bedroom, hoping to somehow find your way downstairs.
You almost cheered audibly when you finally saw the staircase, rushing to it. Once again, as you passed it, your eyes were drawn to the painting.
The painting no longer looked the same as before, the person it had been long erased by smudged and changing lines. You couldn’t tell what it was changing into but felt your heart race with familiarity all the same.
The mouth was a gaping hole by now, outstretched awkwardly. You thought it might have been a smile, but it looked much more like a pained grimace to you.
You only took this as further encouragement to get out of there.
When you failed to find anything of use, you realized there was one room that you seemed to always find. So, as counterintuitive as it seemed, you walked upstairs again, and as confusing as the changing layout was, it didn’t take you long to find it.
You saw the familiar bed, the bed table, the lamp, and the newly added clock on the wall (which didn’t seem to be working) and closed your eyes for a moment. You took a deep breath. And then you decisively walked in to grab the lamp, shivering a bit as you brushed against a much-too-warm wall.
If you couldn’t find the kitchen or a window on the ground floor, then fuck it, you’d find one up here. Whatever broken bones or bruises you’d get from the fall, you’d accept. Finding a window upstairs proved much more doable, as one would line the walls every now and then.
You threw the lamp against the window and braced yourself for impact.
But nothing happened.
The lamp fell to the floor with a hollow thud. When you opened your eyes, you found not a single scratch on the window. So, you tried again. And again. You tried punching the window, earning nothing but a stinging fist.
Yet you continued. At some point, it became more of a tantrum, an expression of your desperation colored in violence, than an attempt to escape. Hitting the window, kicking the wall. “Why-“ you hated this house. You hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. You just wanted to leave. Your ears rang, whether it was from your headache, or the way the house’s groans and creaks had grown in severity, you didn’t know, didn’t care, couldn’t care.
Already unsteady on your feet, your final kick caused you to lose balance entirely.
Stumbling and falling onto the floor, without realizing it, you found yourself by the stairs, and face to face with the painting. Your blood ran cold as you stared into your own lifeless eyes staring down at you from above.
 
Quiet had fallen over the house like a blanket, only the slow rumble throughout the house bellied any activity. In the heart of the house rested a painting, donning a toothy smile and a certain glint in their eyes.
A satisfied Ms. Abby removed the “For Sale” sign out front and drove away with a hum.
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Random Obey Me! Headcanons Part 2
During the first year of the exchange program and when MC couldn't fend for themselves yet, the only way they were allowed out of the house "alone" was with Cerberus accompanying them. And when I tell you the hellhound did an amazing job at protecting them… all it took was a slightly off-putting stare at MC for it to send back the most terrifying glare and loud growl at the demon eyeing them. These outings of theirs once resulted in a pretty infamous picture going viral, where MC was mindlessly buying ice cream at a stall while Cerberus was beside them giving off the most ominous aura as all its heads glared at someone off-screen. You can imagine all the memes that came from it.
When Satan was a baby he used to have constant nightmares about the war and would always wake up screaming and crying, waking up everyone with him. Because of this Lucifer would have to stay up at ungodly hours of the night trying everything he could to calm him down, having to rock the tiny demon in his arms for hours around the corridors till he eventually went back to sleep. At some point Diavolo suggested that he read for Satan, as it was a less energy-draining method. And although Lucifer didn't really see the point given that Satan was a baby and couldn't even understand words yet, he gave it a shot anyway. It ended up working, to both his relief and surprise.
When Mammon first realized he could both understand and tell crows what to do he thought he was going insane. And the brothers were all sure he was lying when he first told them of his ability, having to see firsthand Mammon order around an army of crows as if it was nothing. They were definitely left speechless that day.
Asmo has a podcast where he mainly talks with other famous influencers from the Devildom and demons in the fashion or music industry. All the brothers participated in an episode at some point, and so did MC, the Purgatory Hall crew, and Diavolo.
If MC has a similar clothing style to Mammon's, he'll let them have the clothes he doesn't use anymore. And there's a TON of them, since he buys so many just out of greed and never bothers wearing them more than two or three times.
A few months into the exchange program Diavolo came up with an idea to have the whole gang ( HoL, Purgatory Hall, and the Demon Lord's Castle ) meet up monthly to hang out, have dinner together, etc. It was another way he found to strengthen the bonds between everyone, and no one was allowed to miss it. In the beginning it was a chore to participate but now everyone gets excited when the end of the month starts coming around and they can meet again.
This one time when the brothers were all drunk playing stupid games together they decided that whoever ended up last would have to get an embarrassing tattoo of whatever the others chose. Belphie lost, and to this day the brothers still crack up whenever they catch a glimpse of the small tattoo on his rib that reads "baby of the family". Belphie always gets pissy about it, making them tease him even more.
( Spoilers for lesson 16 ) I went into more detail about this in another post but I believe MC also carries memories from the Celestial War because of their connection to Lilith. And this is something that brings them closer to Satan, since as mentioned before, he also has memories of that time but from Lucifer's perspective. Aka, trauma bonding ✨
Following the tattoo headcanon, Belphie definitely lied to MC about the rib tattoo at first since they didn't couldn't understand Infernal and didn't know what it said. Man 100% told them it meant something else and made up some deep story behind it to make himself look cool or whatever. But it all came crumbling down when everyone went on a trip to the beach and the brothers brought up his "adorable tattoo". He never felt so embarrassed in his life.
Ever since finding out about pride month, Asmo made it into a thing to visit the human realm every year to celebrate it by going to the biggest parade happening that year. And he always drags the brothers with him, making sure to pick outfits for Belphie, Beel, and Lucifer since none of them know how to "dress properly for pride." He just can't let what happened the first time they went happen again, with everyone at the parade wearing colorful and beautifully elaborate clothing while these 3 looked completely out of place ( Lucifer was wearing a full black suit, just so you have an idea. So yeah, he was sticking out in the crowd like crazy ).
As a joke, every time Father's Day comes up the characters go around giving Lucifer, Barbatos, and Simeon shitty gifts and wishing them "Happy Father's Day". But not Beel, who even though knows everyone's doing it for a bit, still gives them a genuine gift and a sincere smile every time. Because let's be honest, these three deserve some actual acknowledgment for raising their troublesome children-not-children. ( Fun fact: Diavolo gives Barbatos both a gag gift and an actual one, and Luke gives Simeon a gift while trying to make it seem like he's just doing it for the joke, though it's obvious he means it. )
Long ago when anime wasn't a thing yet Levi used to be obsessed with marine life. He had extensive knowledge of it and would be pulling random ocean facts out of nowhere and leaving everyone confused. And he absolutely loved sharks, like, you know those people that'll go into great detail to explain why our perception of sharks is fucked and they're actually sweethearts? Yup, that was Levi. Also, if you said your favorite animals were dolphins? Oh, you'd be seeing the most disgusted look show up on his face. ( He'd too explain that dolphins are evil and why you shouldn't like them at all, completely ruining your view of them )
Since Asmo, Beel, and Levi are represented by cold-blooded animals ( a scorpion, a fly, and a serpent ) I headcanon that they can't generate a lot of body heat and touching their skin when it's cold would feel like coming in contact with freezing ice and definitely not the move if you're looking for warmth. Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, and Belphie though? These 4 become MC's personal heaters when winter comes around, and you better bet they're demanding cuddles from all of them ( cold-blooded gang be jealous as fuck of this ).
Solomon puts weird shit on what he cooks on purpose just to fuck with everyone. His grandpa ass finds it absolutely hilarious how everyone tries to keep him away from the kitchen at all costs while simultaneously doing everything to avoid outright saying his cooking is terrible because they don't want to hurt his feelings. Because come on, how does a man who's lived this long on his own not know how to cook? He can follow strict instructions to make the weirdest potions ever but not a recipe to make a simple dinner? Nah, I don't buy it. He definitely knows how to cook and does a decent job at making food for himself when he wants to.
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moonhoures · 1 year
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11:06PM — c. soobin 💌
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a/n: did i write this in 30 minutes on my lunch break immediately after soobin posted? yes. am i insane for doing so? probably. do i care? not one bit. this is just some fluffy bf soobin, enjoy!
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“Should I pose like this?”
You watched your boyfriend move through the screen of your phone, standing facing you with his arm bent, hand at the back of his head. You snorted quietly, snapping a somewhat blurry picture before he put his arm back down with a pout.
“What?” he asked with a hint of playful annoyance.
“Nothing. You look cute,” you laughed at his childish demeanor, “Come on, just a couple more.”
This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you two. More often than not your dates were late at night, spent getting dinner and then taking a long walk back to your car. On your walks you both enjoyed having little photo shoots together, either of each other or different stuff you saw along your way. Tonight, you wanted to take pictures of him.
“I don’t want to look cute. I want to look handsome,” he said, lightly kicking a rock across the pavement with his shoe.
“You look handsome too. You can be both, you know,” you tried to reassure him, picking your phone back up. You encouraged him to pose again. After a couple minutes you had enough pictures to fill up an album in your camera roll. Soobin reached for your free hand, taking it in his as you put your phone back into your pocket. Then you set off again down the sidewalk together, fingers intertwined.
You loved nights like these. When the air was warm but there was still that night breeze making the few fallen flower petals and leaves shake and skid down the concrete. The moon shown most nights, hanging in the dark blue sky like a nightlight. Sometimes Soobin pointed it out, telling you what phase it was in. Crescents were his favorite, because it looked like a smile. Crescents slowly became your favorite too, because it was his favorite. And they made you think of him.
You sighed contently, unraveling your fingers from his so that you could pull his arm over your shoulder. He smiled warmly, taking the opportunity to kiss your head.
“It’s getting a bit chillier at night. We’ll have to bring jackets next time,” he said.
“Mhm, I think I’ll wear that white pullover you gave me last year,” you were picturing the perfect outfit in your mind, trying to remember where you put the matching shoes you were imagining. Had you left them at the bottom of your closet? Or under your bed?
“You mean my white pullover?” he corrected you with a smirk, “I didn’t give you that, you stole it from my room when you came over. And you have yet to give it back.”
“A small price to pay for a girlfriend, don’t you think?”
You both laughed as you crossed an intersection. When you stepped back on to the sidewalk, your car was parked only a few yards away. His was parked just in front of yours. Like always, he walked you to your car, stopping beside your driver’s side door.
He let out a heavy sigh, expressing his disappointment with having to part ways. He held both of your hands in his, a pout evident on his full lips, “I hate this part.”
“You say that every time, you know that?”
“And I mean it every time, too,” he grumbled, pulling you into a hug. His chin rested on your head as he squeezed you tenderly, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume before letting you go. His hands found a temporary home on your cheeks as he leaned in to place a kiss on the tip of your nose, “Text me when you get home?”
“I always do-,” you started to say, and before you could finish speaking, he interjected.
“Not last time,” he said matter-of-factly, “And I didn’t sleep well that night, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes jokingly, “I fell asleep as soon as I got home. And I said I was sorry!”
“Well now you have to make it up to me by giving me an extra kiss.”
You nodded in understanding, placing a sweet, short-lived kiss to his lips. Then, another, more affectionate kiss. Each time, you had to lift yourself a bit on your tiptoes to reach him.
“I think I actually deserve one more,” he said, his hands still resting on your waist.
You smiled, but obliged. Your calves strained again as you reached up and placed your lips on his.
“Mm, one more.”
“Soobin.”
“Just one more,” he pouted again, “Please!”
He was lucky you loved him so much.
“You lean down this time. My legs hurt.”
He would do anything you asked him to, so naturally he listened. He leaned down, melting his lips onto yours in a kiss that was longer than the previous ones. It was a bit more sensual, too. The air seemed heavier and hotter in that moment. You could feel your back pressing against your car door.
When he let you go, his lips were puffy and his cheeks were a warm shade of pink. You giggled.
“What?”
“You just look really handsome right now.”
“You bet I do,” he spoke with elevated confidence in a joking manner, making you playfully nudge his arm.
“Dork.”
“I love you too. Drive safe,” he called as he started to walk the few feet to his car. He caught the way you smiled at him before getting in your car. Tonight, just like every night, he waited until your car drove off first before leaving. Then he would go home and wait for you to text him before falling peacefully asleep, knowing you would repeat this night again soon. He couldn’t wait.
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this timestamp, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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calmcoldevening · 8 months
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Hellow! I just comeback to tumblr after a long time away from this magic space and i wish (and request if is possible 👉🏻👈🏻) if you can write a one shot where the reader was adopted after Charlie finished a family, she was a baby then and grow up as a Hewitt basically so Thomas is her “step brother” but when they grow and they start doing the “family business 🔪 “ they protect each other, he protects her physically and she protects him emotionally also she finish some girls who make fun of Thomas, basically they found that both have feelings for each other…hope i didn’t ask a mess 🥺 by the way, i love your content 🖤
Omg, thank you so much, really ♡⁠ And I like your idea, so I hope you will like it))
Thomas Hewitt x reader
Tw: mention on murders, cannibalism, a little hurt/comfort, reader and Thomas are not the real siblings, jealousy
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Almost no one remembers how you got into this family anymore. At one point, Hoyt just carried you in his arms, frowning at Luda. The woman carefully picked you up in her arms, your big curious eyes looked around the room and the people present with interest. Surprisingly, you weren't scared, even though you didn't understand where you were. People were talking loudly, but you didn't understand any of it.
But it only took a couple of minutes, and a strange man appeared in your field of vision. Kid. He was a boy of about five with long black hair, and his face was covered in bandages in some places. The woman said something to him, and the boy awkwardly approached you, looking at your little body with curiosity and some fear. You smiled almost reflexively and held out your hands to him. The woman grinned and gently laid you down in the boy's arms. You curled up blissfully on his chest, closing your eyes and relaxing. The boy started rocking you. It was so nice and warm. You fell asleep almost immediately.
Thomas. That was the boy's name. Thomas Hewitt, your older brother Tommy. He has always been kind and gentle towards you. Of course, your whole family was good, even if it was peculiar, but still Tommy seemed the most dear to you. It has always been so.
The boy was constantly protecting you. At home or in the outside, it doesn't matter, Thomas always tried to be with you, like your personal guardian angel.
As the years passed, Thomas was already in school. You were about four years old when you started noticing something was wrong. Tommy came home from school, and his body was covered with a lot of bruises, dried blood was visible on the bandages. It happened a lot. But when you tried to ask Thomas about it, he was silent, turning away from you.
Your childish mind was still unable to make up a whole picture of such situations.
So the only thing that came to your mind was to cheer Tommy up. He was sitting on the bed when you entered the room. Awkwardly walking with your little legs, you came closer to him, smiling. Without thinking twice, you climbed onto the bed next to him. Taking one of his hands, you began to glue small patches on his wounds.
"It hurts, brother?" you ask softly, looking up at Thomas. The guy can't help but smile. He gently runs his free hand through your hair, and shakes his head negatively. You giggle contentedly and put your arms around his neck, climbing into the boy's lap. Thomas hugs you back tenderly, and in those warm hugs you feel like your brother is protecting you from the whole world.
Already in the middle of school, Thomas started working with Charlie at the slaughterhouse, but you just stayed at home after graduation. By nature, you were a child who was much weaker than Thomas, even though you were very smart and cunning. Besides, Luda didn't want you to see all these horrors of murder from such an early age. You didn't resist her views.
After all, after school you worked at one of the grocery stores in the city. Even if they didn't pay that much because of your age and the fact that it was your unofficial job, it was already something. Therefore, every day you brought home either money or food immediately, which Luda was immensely happy about. Unlike Tommy, you grew up to be quite an active and curious child, you were often the first to take the initiative in various matters. Therefore, at the age of ten you were quite good at helping People around the house, and at fifteen you were already fully cooking. You didn't particularly like the fact that Luda spends almost all her time doing household chores, so you tried to give her as much rest as possible. She was very happy to have such a child.
As the years passed, the city emptied as time passed. The closure of the slaughterhouse has greatly affected the peaceful course of life in the city. After a while, only your Hewitt family remained in the city. It's not that you love other people, it's just that you were sorry that the usual way of life was changing. But as long as you're with your family, you don't care about other people.
Due to the fact that there was not much food in the city, and it was not possible to travel outside it often, gradually you did not have enough food. You just accepted it, and you didn't ask any questions.
Until one day Charlie gave some strange speech.
You could feel the tension in the air when you all gathered at the table. It was a little awkward. The room was dark, with only a small chandelier above the table being the only source of pale yellow light. As usual, you folded your hands on your chest in prayer before eating, when Charlie said a prayer to God. No, not Charlie, Hoyt. Your eyes were darting around the room. You saw the tense shoulders of the Woman and the way her forehead wrinkled because of the eyebrows drawn together. Hoyt wasn't as tense, and yet there was some excitement in his voice. Uncle Monty was no different from his usual self, he just kept quiet.
Eating people. It was.. strange. Wrong. How could Hoyt say that in order to survive, you have to eat people? And this strange soup with rather tough meat.
You looked at Tommy. He was sitting next to you, his huge figure only added some kind of horror to the atmosphere of the room. And yet, under the table, he took your little hand in his big palm, squeezing it in comfort. You understood that it was necessary. If Tommy said it was necessary, then you will obey. You nodded curtly and started eating.
Gradually you got used to the new way of life. You spent whole days helping People around the house or at her gas station store, and in the evening you spent time with Tommy. You are used to strange strangers appearing in your house several times a week, and new meat appears on the table that evening. You no longer paid attention to the screams or the blood, you lived as usual. The only thing you didn't like was that Tommy was now more tired and exhausted by the end of the day. After working with meat for a long time, he would come to your room, you would sit on the bed. He would climb onto your bed and put his head on your hips, seeking comfort. You began to gently stroke his tangled black hair. He closed his eyes with a smile. Your hands gently find the clasp of the mask on the back of his head. Thomas reflexively tenses up at first, but immediately lets you take off the mask. He looks up at you and you smile, caressing his cheeks with your hands. Every time such a sight made a pleasant warm feeling appear in your chest, you wanted to see this smile more often. After a long hug, you fell asleep on the same bed, cuddling up to each other.
Such a life has become commonplace. And although you tried to be indifferent to all the victims who come to this house, in the end, they will all end up being your dinner, you couldn't ignore how these pathetic bastards treated Tommy. Especially those screaming and crying girls.
Thomas was sharpening a knife in his basement when you went down there and saw a girl tied to a table. Her makeup was smeared, and her face was red and swollen from crying and screaming. She was obviously pretty tired already. And yet, the girl continued to try to pull out, shouting some obscenities. She probably already realizes that she is doomed. And yet, her body is still filled with animal fear. You walk down the stairs, your arms folded across your chest. Thomas is not paying attention to you, he is completely focused on his work. And from there he stands over the bound girl. His palm slowly slides over her trembling stomach, breasts, and finally stops on her face, caressing her cheeks. Your heart strangely, almost painfully contracts at the sight of this scene. The girl wriggles and cries, calling Thomas a freak and a brainless animal. You can't see his face, but you can feel him frowning. In an instant, he raises his hand with a cleaver over the girl and forcefully drives it into the girl's body, cutting her fragile neck with an unpleasant crunch. She gurgles, choking on her own blood. You slowly approach Thomas, hugging him from behind. Your hands are clutching the fabric of his shirt under his apron.
"She's lying, Tommy. She's just stupid. You are not an animal, you are the most wonderful man in the world," you whisper and feel him relax under your embrace. He throws the cleaver on the floor. The man turns to face you and wraps you in a tight hug, burying his nose in your hair. He's always been soothed by your scent.
You were really annoyed by these rude victims of the girl. That's why you often began to deal with them yourself. Something inside you rejoiced when you silenced their vile mouth.
You were in the kitchen, as usual, making an apple pie. Humming something to yourself, you moved around the kitchen in a relaxed way, enjoying the cooking process. Suddenly, you heard the faint crackle of the stairs leading to the basement. The third step from below was flimsy and always creaked. But under Tommy's weight, it was a more distinct sound. Now the sound was almost inaudible, as if someone was sneaking around, trying not to attract attention. When you turned around, you saw a fragile girl covered in blood. Her right hand looked like a bloody mess, so she held it with her good hand. Was it Tommy's toy? A strange anger has boiled up inside you. You grabbed the knife you were using to cut apples. It was a sharp knife that Hoyt sharpened for you not so long ago. Slowly approaching the girl from behind, you abruptly wrapped your arms around her, exposing the blade with the tip to her stomach. The girl was filled with an almost animal panic and she reflexively rushed forward, trying to escape from your grip. She made it worse for herself. Her flesh was instantly pierced by a sharp blade. You felt her body convulsing, and cherry blood instantly stained your hands. The knife went into her stomach almost to the hilt when she went limp in your hands. Hoyt would probably scold you for spoiling the meat right now. But you don't care. It felt so light and pleasant when you finished off this girl who called Thomas names not so long ago when he dealt with her friends. No one dared to call your boy that, absolutely no one.
But it wasn't any easier for Thomas.
He saw all those sidelong glances from the victims, all those lascivious smiles in your direction. It annoyed him so much. Thomas killed such victims with particular cruelty. You were his gentle and innocent flower, who had been kind to him since childhood. Thomas cherished you. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to you. Your soft hair, sweet smell and sweet smile. All of this made his heart flutter. But in those moments when the escaped victims tried to take you with them, his chest was filled with a feeling of anger and hatred. No one will dare to take away his flower, his ray of light in this dark life.
But there was something strange about it, something he couldn't explain. When the victims tried to flirt with you, unaware of the danger, or when they touched you unobtrusively, his blood boiled. There was something else besides the desire to protect. Mine. Mine. MINE. The voice kept repeating in his head when some guy at the gas station tried to hug you. That same night, he cut off his limbs. There was something else besides his brother's affection. It wasn't right, was it? But all your smiles, touches, and tenderness made Thomas want you for himself alone. He wanted to hold you close and show you in every way that he loves you. He loves me very much. Will you understand him? Or do you only see him as a brother? Thomas knows, he clearly remembers the day when Charlie brought your baby to this house. Even then, Thomas swore with his heart that he would protect and take care of you. You're not his blood sister, so maybe...? Will you love such a freak? After all, all the victims talked about him that way. A freak, an animal, a monster. Do you see him differently? He doesn't want to scare you or disgust you, no. He wants to love you. He wants you for himself.
It was a surprisingly rainy day. You were sitting on the porch, hugging your knees. The rain was pounding on the roof of the house, and there was a strong smell of humidity and wet dust in the air. There wasn't a soul around. There haven't been any new victims in the last few days, so you could definitely rest. Luda, along with Hoyt and Monty, went to a nearby town to check on someone from relatives, so you and Thomas were alone. Quiet and peaceful.
A man was watching you through the open front door. Your gentle image warmed his heart in a pleasant way. Maybe...?
You heard heavy footsteps approaching, and your body almost reflexively relaxed. A warm blanket was placed on your shoulders, and Thomas himself sat on the porch next to you. Even sitting down, he was much taller than you. Thomas stared ahead for a long time, watching the chaotic raindrops. His dark hair was even more curly from the humidity. Finally, he turned to face you, looking down at you. His blue eyes bored into your face for a long time. Finally, he took your hands in his, squeezing them gently. His rough thumbs massaged your hand skin in gentle circles, he frowned a little, obviously thinking about something.
Then he dropped one of your hands. The man pointed at himself. Then he put his hand to his lips, kissing her, and brought his hand to his heart. Then he pointed his finger at you.
I. Love. You.
Your cheeks instantly flushed when you looked down. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, echoing in your ears. Did he have the same feelings for you? Or did you get it all wrong? But you are a family..
"I love you too, big brother," you say in the most innocent way, looking at the wet wooden boards of the porch.
Thomas frowns and grabs your face with his free hand, forcing you to look at him. You look up, meeting his eyes. The man's blue eyes are filled with longing and a strange warmth. He shooks his head.
You feel overwhelmed by emotions. How have you always been able to communicate so clearly, even without words? Some kind of pleasant tender feeling blossoms in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and burying your nose in his shoulder. The smell of metal and dust mixed with the sweet natural scent of his body. The smell that always calmed you down. Thomas hugs you back, stroking your back with his big hand.
A little later, you pull away. You have a strange strong desire, his lips look full and beautiful to you. Leaning forward, you gently kiss him through the mask, he responds. Your kiss is wet and clumsy, but filled to the brim with feelings. Thomas squeezes you tightly in his arms, wanting to shut you off from the rest of the world. You are his, his and only his. You may not be his sibling, but you are his family.
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