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chrollohearttags · 3 months

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french tips • sanji x black!fem reader

your new nail tech suddenly becomes your favorite after an appointment you’ll never forget!

nail tech!sanji, modern au, him being a gentleman ofc (he’s not a perv in this, hadn't watched the live action but from clips, taz seems a lot more charming so that’s who i'm going with! 😭) massage, handjob, foot and nipple play, service dom, fingering, squirting, calls reader miss + my dear, praise kink, says good girl a couple times, sanji has a tongue ring

word count: 2.5K

whoever sent this idea, thank you for your contribution. I don’t know if you are being serious or facetious but either way, you have awoken something in me. sanji fuckers, come get y’all’s juice!!

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you were a little hesitant…downright apprehensive even. You’d been coming to this shaking for years and each time, you sat in the same chair, got nearly the same services and entrusted your beauty needs to the same hands. “I’m sorry, (y/n). She’s on vacation right now and won’t be back for at least three weeks.” “I understand but I wish she would’ve told me before I booked the appointment..” you were flustered and rather frustrated to boot..you had an important event coming up and the last thing you needed was your routine disrupted. It was already enough chaos in your hectic life! But nail tech!sanji was willing to swoop in and make things easier.

“Miss, if you don’t mind..I’d be more than happy to help you today. My next appointment isn’t for a few hours so I’ve got plenty of time to get everything taken care of.”

nail tech!sanji, who’d been an esthetician and licensed massage therapist for years, had just begun working there but his work and reputation far preceded longevity at this particular shop. The man was an absolute master at his craft and his catalog spoke for itself. He had won competitions, curated some of the most beautiful designs you’ve ever seen and worked with absolute proficiency. “Is there a specific design you’re looking for?” nail tech!sanji had also mastered the art of de-escalating tense situations. When working around women and people who did not play when it came to their appearances, he knew one wrong move could result in his head or termination so he was flawless in his final product..left with no other choice, you’d accept nail tech!sanji’s generous offer. “Fine. But if you screw up one thing on these nails, I’m done with this shop for good.” but little did you know, you’d be so glad that you did take the services from him! nail tech!sanji, who’s work area was absolutely spotless, smelled of vanilla incense and looked so out together, it shocked you. “I find vanilla helps soothe the senses…makes you feel a lot more relaxed. Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you and if at any time, I do anything wrong, you let me know. Okay, miss?” nail tech!sanji, who looked better suited for a repair shop with his tattoos, blonde wefts and tongue ring, certainly took you by surprise. He was gentle, attentive and made certain that you were comfortable. “Can I offer you some water? Or perhaps something else to drink?” As the nail salon you frequented also doubled as a bar. “No alcohol for me today, please. I drove. I’ll just take the water..” nail tech!sanji, who noticed that you were still nervous, decided to take your hand and redirect that tension.

“So tell me about this event. I’d love to hear about it if you don’t mind.” nail tech!sanji, who was not only kind but handsome and rather charming to boot. He had a great sense of humor and was very quick witted..this man who was all but a stranger thirty minutes ago, had you laughing and fanning yourself as he dabbed balls of acrylic onto your nails and sculpted your tips to perfection. nail tech!sanji, who did thorough work whilst also listening to you attentively as you divulged about your career and how you were going to be attending a gala for the company’s sponsors. “Sounds like it’s a room full of snobs.” “You don’t know the half but hey, they keep my bills paid so I can’t complain too much, I guess.” nail tech!sanji, who was absolutely smitten by you, couldn’t stop staring from across the table as he gently kneaded lotion into your hands. His touch was so soft and inviting, making you wish he’d never pull away. It didn’t help matters that he was so damn attractive! nail tech!sanji, who made your nails look the best they ever had, was pleased to see the smile on your face after he finished!

“..only the best for a valued customer and such a beauty at that. I do aim to please.” “I’d say you exceeded that. Thank you, mr. sanji..they’re gorgeous.” “Thank you for allowing me to take care of you. I’m honored.”

nail tech!sanji, who wasn’t quite ready to part ways with the gorgeous woman he’d come to be acquainted with, decided that he would take on all of your services today. Including your pedicure and massage…nail tech!sanji, who saw that you opted for the deluxe package, whisked you away to the private room with the entire setup. Something you’d always paid for. A massage bed in the corner and the pedicure chair with a tub full of milky liquid and rose petals scattered about…soft, ambient music playing from the speakers and waves displayed on a mounted television screen crashed around. It was so peaceful and just what you needed for the long week ahead and the one you’d just gone through. nail tech!sanji, who rolled up his sleeves as he sat down to work on your feet, made you chew at your bottom lip..weirdly enticed by the sight of his veins protruding from his forearms. But that wasn’t the only reason…he’d soak your heels and work on each one as the other marinated in the softening solution. nail tech!sanji, who delicately massaged up and down those calves, couldn’t help but to chuckle when he felt you slightly tremble yet again when he began to gently knead his fingers into your pressure points, causing you to melt right there! “Looks like someone enjoyed that. You’re really tense for some reason, miss..something on your mind?” Trying to feign the embarrassment of admitting that not only were slightly turned on by how gently this man handled you but the fact that beneath that skin tight sundress, you weren’t wearing any panties, as you had just come from your wax appointment before arriving here and he was seconds from getting an eyeful! “N-no, I’m fine. Just feels really good.” “Well that’s all I want to hear.” nail tech!sanji, who was quick to sense the energy shift, went to retrieve your polish of choice after rubbing your legs down in lotion and wrapping them in warm towels.

“White toes..good choice. And a personal favorite on a lady too.” “You’re a man of good taste then. I like that.” Causing the blonde to blush a bit himself..as he could tell you weren’t exactly some scared little girl. You were a grown woman..who was strong, handled her business and always got her way. Just his type! nail tech!sanji, who set up for your final service as he allowed your toes to cure under the gel lamp, began to dim the lights and lay out all his materials. Knowing that you were watching him carefully…snaking his tongue out intermittently to reveal that steel ball stuck between it. Not to mention the silver bands wrapped around his perfectly manicured fingers.

“..can I have you remove your clothes and wrap yourself in the towel, please? I can step out for a moment and you just let me know when you’re ready..” helping you from your seat as he removed that lamp and grasped your hand..this man was the epitome of a perfect gentleman and you were becoming more and more ecstatic that you had decided to come in today. But unbeknownst, the best was yet to come..nail tech!sanji, who’d stepped back in to find you lying across the table on your stomach, a single towel covering your frame and ready for him to work his magic. nail tech!sanji, who had to all but bite his fist to restrain himself as he inched closer and prepared to make you feel the best you had in ages…warming a palmful of oil as he rubbed them together. Waiting in anticipation, you’d glance back and be greeted with a smirk. When he began to knead your muscles with those strong hands, your body would immediately melt within his grasp. So carefully working out all the sores and kinks that had mounted throughout the stressful work week. Meetings, business negotiations, dinners with your bosses…it was all taking its toll. But if anyone could put you at ease, it was nail tech!sanji..

“How are we feeling, my dear?..”

“Amazing..you’re really good at this..”

and luckily for you, this wasn’t even the beginning. Because as he kept going, (y/n) began to release soft whimpers in response to those subtle touches. Chewing at your lower lip, you’d allow your mind to escape to a place that it should not have been. Abashedly, you didn’t want to admit it but it’d been quite some time since a man had touched you, less known, made you feel this damn good! It was apparent that he was no amateur..in many ways than once. “Mmmm…like that.” The words slipped out subconsciously but it didn’t even phase nail tech!sanji, he just chuckled and kept going. Everytime he moved, he questioned and asked for your permission to place his hands lower. By the time he reached your lower back, you’d let him know it was quite alright to do as he pleased. “Please…keep going. You know what to do..” you were never a promiscuous woman by any means but you were the kind to have your way..when you wanted it. And what you wanted right now…was for him to give in to his desires and take you right there!

“In that case…flip over f’r me and I’ll give you exactly what you need.” The sexual tension that had accrued between you two was undeniable and neither of you were interested in playing coy. So with the command being whispered into your ear, causing a shudder to run down your spine, you’d follow his command and turn over to lie on your back, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t help but to subtly grunt at the sheer sight of those erect, dark hues nipples and toned tummy. The only thing making it better was the glass colored liquid pooling across it and spreading as he rubbed it in. Your brown skin glistening underneath the hue of auburn lighting.. “..there we are..much better.” nail tech!sanji took his sweet time in caressing your body. Honing in on your stiff little buds and watching you squirm. Your dark eyes glaring through him with unadulterated lust. Especially when he’d wash his hands off and proceed to go lower beneath that cloth covering your upper thighs. “You sure know how to work your hands..” “I’m only getting started, my love. Just keep your eyes on me and don’t move…” his dominance was not only attractive but captivating. You needed him more than he could imagine! So much so, you’d reach over to grasp for his clothed erection that was growing from the confines of his pants. But nail tech!sanji was quick to halt you, gently clutching your wrist.

“Aht..not yet, gorgeous. It’s my turn.” Chuckling as he commanded you to lean up so you could watch his every movement. He’d part your legs as he kept an arm cradled behind your shoulders and the other between your thighs, working those nimble fingers on your sensitive spot. “Oh my gosh..” “…mmph, you’re soaking, pretty girl.” watching you writhe and whimper as those digits circulated your clit. nail tech!sanji, who latched his lips around your nipples and suckled as he moved about, working them inside of you..whispering into your ear, marking your throat with kisses and filling your head with sweet nothings as he clutched his hand around it. “Ooh..you needed this, didn’t you?…yeah, I know. Just need someone to take care of you every once in a while.” Pegging you to a tee..so independent and headstrong that sometimes, you forgot what it felt like to be spoiled. Clutching around his knuckles, you’d grasp for his arm and hold onto it as your lips met in passionate pecks. Exchanging saliva and whimpers in the process. Tasting one another as the kisses deepened. Sensing that mounting ball of pleasure forming in your core, he’d curl his index and middle digits to work that orgasm out of you. “Good girl..there you go. Keep fucking my fingers. Just like that..get yourself off..” nail tech!sanji, who was practically yearning to bury himself inside of your pussy, could no longer fight his own urges and gave you permission to stroke his cock, shuffling his waistband around to remove it. “Mmph, damn…” “..like what you see, miss?” Knowing that you were taken aback by his size and length. A glowing red tip with precum seeping out..you’d carefully take into your grasp as you stroked that shaft. You’d pleasure each other through lilted moans and stifled cries. Practically shoving your tongue down the other’s throats as you brought each other to ecstasy. “Should I speed up? I can if you need me to..” but you’d quickly decline, finding that the pace was perfect. He was equally as needy but his resolve outweighed his pleasure at the moment and he was determined to let you get yours before his own. Which wasn’t too far away..

“You wanna come, beautiful? It’s okay, you can tell me.” “Y-yes! Please, Sanji..” and with that, he commanded your release with a sharp tug upward and a quickened flick of his wrist..you’d finally cave and release. Letting out loud whimpers, along with a stream of juices, that soaked the table and your quivering thighs. nail tech!sanji, who enjoyed the sight of watching you writhe from his volition, was quick to get a sample of the mess he contributed to. Moving down your torso with the swipe of his tongue piercing, grazing your skin; lapping up those sweet juices from your center down to your thighs..leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he reached your calves and feet. nail tech!sanji, who’d place those freshly done toes into his mouth, sucking them momentarily as he concluded your massage.

“So..did I do a good job, my love? Satisfied with your service today?” Receiving by far the best compliment he’s ever gotten when you snatched him down and made out with him once more. Showing your gratitude. “I’ll take that as a yes..” giggling with him as the two of you came down from your climatic bliss.

y/n, who was apprehensive before coming in here, was now leaving happier than ever. And nail tech!sanji, who had never picked favorites among his clients, was now looking forward to your next appointment!

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tagging: @lotus-flower-writes @spaceforher @highpri3stess @themagnificentgoat @ichigosluvrr @ladymomo

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bxnnybimbeax · 3 days

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thinking about.. best friend!satoru gojo who immediately answers when you come calling

bestie!gojo who not-so-secretly, secretly has feelings for you

bestie!gojo who knows everything there is to know about you. Your oh-so wonderful taste in partners… Your likes and dislikes, hobbies, career plans, plans for the future.. anything and everything. Even if you do or don’t exactly tell him

bestie!gojo who drops everything that he’s doing to come see you, when hearing your incoherent sentences of something along the lines of, “…. dumped boyfriend… cheated..”

bestie!gojo who comforts you in your time of need. Listening to all your rants about your ex-boyfriend, supplying you with whatever he thinks would cheer you up, offering you comforting words instead of solutions.

What a great best friend to have!! Right..?

“I hate him so much! What a no good bitch ass womanizer!!” You exclaimed in a fit of rage, scrolling through the posts of the woman who, your ex cheated on you with, as satoru tiredly sighs.

“What does she have that I don’t-“ and before you could continue on, you get cut off by your best friend, Satoru. “Absolutely nothing, sweetheart. You should know your worth by now. It’s not something you have or ‘don’t have,’ it’s the simple minded mentality of… What’s his name again?— Doesn’t matter, He’s too simple minded to know the true worth of what he has in front of him.” He tangibly states, as if it was the most well-known fact in the world.

You attempted to up at him through your clouded vision, blinking away tears that spilled like waterfalls. Taking glances between Satoru, and the images on your phone, you stay silent as he studies you, pools of cool colored diamond eyes staring into yours, hoping to see any slight change of positivity.

He sighs again, taking a seat on your bed as he snatches your phone away from you, and before you could protest, he cuts you off once again… by pulling you close, into a hug. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him, as you let out all your pent up feelings. Sobbing into his chest, as he soothes circles into your back, not caring that you mess up whatever designer shirt he’s wearing.

Satoru’s heart breaks hearing you hurt, he wants nothing more than to ruin whoever was the cause of your problems. But right now, he’s more focused on you.

Satoru hushes your cries, wiping away the salty crystalline off your face as he speaks up, “Oh baby, don’t waste your tears on him. He has no idea what he’s missing out on. Don’t waste your energy on a leech that only takes from you, and never gives. Your deserve someone who reciprocates your feelings, and so much more.” He admitted in a dulcet tone, giving feathery caresses to the side of your face, as he placed a sparse kiss to the side of your temple.

“Cheer up, theses plenty of people who would give the world and die for your affection.” He states in a much more cheerful and playful tone, making you laugh in response to his exaggerated claim.

…

best friend! Satoru who stays with you, through the night. Comforting and creating a much more positive atmosphere to the contrasted gloomy mood

best friend! Satoru who maybe, you don’t see as just a friend anymore..?

A/N: Whats goody gangy. ☝🏾🤓 Sorry I was gone for 5 months I was going thru it with some bitch ass nigga I dumped, which is kinda what I based this fic off of, except no boy bsf I’m in love with to comfort me.💔 He made me delete tumblr so I couldn’t write 😞 I still kept on reading tho 😈

Not proof read btw, bc I’m high as a mf, writing with dyslexia. And it’s late a night, idk if it’s gonna be late when I post this tho😛

If y’all sent a request, resend it plssss. 🙏🏾 I need inspo mookies, and if you have a request feel free to send one in. Msg me abt wtv, and lmk if I can improve on anything

Thanks lovies take care and, hope y’all enjoyed!! 🩷

-bxnnybimbeax

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojo jjk #jjk gojo #jujitsu kaisen gojo #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #gojo x reader #satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #reqs open #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you

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malum-forev · 1 year

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If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.

Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3

“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.

“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York.

“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”

“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“

Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”

“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.

Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought.

“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention.

“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest.

“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him.

Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping.

“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”

The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets.

Sam facepalmed himself.

“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled.

“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly.

“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”

Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.

“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”

Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts.

Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?

The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand.

Bucky gulped as you approached him.

“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips.

“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered.

“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”

You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.

“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him.

Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.

He saw how you nervously fidgeted.

“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“

Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame.

“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” You squeaked.

“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.

“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”

This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

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demonicbaby666 · 10 months

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Babe. Please teacher/student Emily and fem reader. I beg of you. Smut galore!!!

Professor P

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut and fluff

Words: 4k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, fingering and oral (r!receiving), semi-public sex (lecture hall), teacher/student, a little sprinkle of praise, swearing

Summary: Professor Prentiss has been coming to deliver weekly lectures at your university. You’ve mainly kept to the back and been weary of getting in her bad books. When you turn up late to class one day, things take an interesting turn, and you find the dynamics between the two of you drastically change.

A/n: i cannot find the gif I want, so we are going with a new layout. I scavenged everywhere for footage to make one and found fuckall :(

You're late. It's only five minutes, but that doesn't matter. Emily Prentiss does not appreciate tardiness, which is why your pulse is racing and your feet are rapidly slamming against the varnished floor.

When you reach the daunting lecture hall door, the handle mocks you with its screeching, causing you to grit your teeth. Great. Heads turn to the back of the room and watch as you clamber to find a seat, and no matter how hard you try not to look, you can feel Emily's pointed glare burning a hole straight through you.

The hall is relatively big. Sounds transpire effortlessly. It benefits whoever takes the class, their voice seamlessly carrying to the back. It offers no such advantage for the odd student who comes in late because the same principles apply. No matter how hard you try to keep quiet, the silence in the room does nothing to mask the ruffling of papers and pens.

"Thanks for joining us," Emily calls out once you settle, forcing you to meet her eyes.

You know better than to challenge her, so you grimace and mutter your barely audible apology.

"See me after class." she says, and murmurs scatter across the dotted ocean of students, "Let's continue."

It's torture. With each passing minute, your palms grow clammy, your knee shaky, and your breath heavy. Emily's picking on you more than anyone else, and though you know the answers, getting them right doesn't alleviate your nerves. She does offer a smile when you prove your lateness is by no means an accurate reflection of your intelligence. However, it's not a proud, candid smile that does little to calm you, simply because the browns of her eyes are tinted with something hungry and predatory that sends shivers through your body.

Time passes, and you continue to blossom into a colossal mess. Students dart out whilst you gather your things and nervously await your fate. On your way down the broad steps of the auditorium, fellow peers you've spoken to in passing offer their sorry attempts at comfort by leaving taps on your shoulders. It feels more like you're being sent off to the front lines rather than having a reprimand from your professor.

When you approach her desk, Emily's fingers tap away at her keyboard. Aside from a brief upward glance, she barely acknowledges your presence, and then she's back to typing, leaving you with nothing else to do - other than awkwardly fiddle with your fingers and wait.

What feels like an eternity later, Emily finally stops typing and turns the computer off. Though she may have still sat down, giving you the advantage of being on the higher ground, her piercing stare leads you to believe she most definitely is at no disadvantage and is solemnly aware she garners all your attention.

"What's the excuse?" she asks, looking you up and down.

"Excuse?" you nervously question.

"Yes, excuse," She rolls her eyes, stands up, then walks around the desk. Standing tall and remaining a few steps away, she continues, "Why were you late?"

Ice runs cold through your veins, and your mouth feels drier than the desert. You swallow the dry lump in your throat, "Library," you manage to choke out, "I lost track of time."

The answer doesn't seem to amuse her, and she rolls her eyes as she pulls up the left sleeve of her blouse. A silence bathes you both, though it seems only to take hold of you. Emily is too busy fiddling with her watch to notice or care.

It glints in the light when she steps forward, throwing your body into fight or flight, or the lesser of both, freeze. You stand stark still despite everything in your body telling you to back away.

"Hold out your wrist," she instructs, taking off her watch. You do as told and watch in astonishment as the leather straps clasp around your wrist. Emily's face remains unreadable until her eyes move from your wrist to your face, and you pick up on the slight curve of her lips and something unfamiliar in her eyes that almost resembles amusement, "Don't be late again."

Words aren't coming to you nearly as quickly as they should, and the hint of amusement that dances in Emily's eyes intensifies. Then, she grabs her things like nothing unusual has occurred and steps forward, whispering in your ear, "Next time, I won't be so nice."

A shiver runs down your spine, and before you can turn around, Emily's already out the door.

"What the hell just happened?" you ask the empty room, staring down at the watch on your wrist.

A week passes before you see Emily again, and in that time, there isn't a day that goes by when you don't wear that watch. The habit of looking down and smiling at it creeps up on you. Often, you look around to see if anyone else has noticed, then pull your sleeve over it as though it needs to be kept a secret.

Maybe you want to keep in on the down low because the thought of having anyone else know would tarnish what seems to be, or you hope to be a treasured memory shared between you and Emily, or maybe it is something else entirely. All you know is that you want the exchange to remain between the two people who were present for it. Thankfully, it does.

The leather straps of the watch itself have lightened ever so slightly with time, and a bubbling sense of warmth comes in late nights of your dorm room, looking at it and thinking of who it belonged to and how long it had adorned their wrist. You trace your fingers over the metal frame of the clockface and toy with buttons, all the while relishing in the hints of perfume that appear hellbent on remaining ever-present.

As the week drags on, you find yourself more excited than you've ever been for Emily's class. You're one of the first few to show up.

Though you usually favour the back few rows, the thoughts from the past week have you walking down more steps than you're accustomed to. Being at the front is far too much of a statement, you tell yourself. You settle for the middle.

With a clear view and no heads in your line of sight, you watch Emily stand by the computer and set up the necessary slides whilst she likely waits for the room to fill up. The side exit door is open, letting in a cool summer breeze that ruffles sitting papers on the brunette's desk—the touseling sound of crisp paper dances across the room.

The gusts of wind sweeping in aren't entirely strong, but they're blowing wisps of Emily's hair into her face. So much so she reaches a hand to brush them away and hypnotically tucks the loose strands behind her ear.

One of the first things you'd noticed about Emily, or rather, hadn't, was her fringe. Unlike in pictures you'd seen of her online, she now wears her hair down, parted in the middle with feathered layers subtly framing her face. It suits her. Then again, anything would.

Her attention falters, and she tears herself away from the screen to glimpse over the room. Eyes jadedly pass by you, then dart back and raptly take you in. Emily's gaze falls to your wrist. Her lips curve into a satisfied smirk, and there's no stopping the tension in your stomach that twists and coils in looping knots. Butterflies swim through the remains of cold brew coffee - that should be thanked for you getting to class so early - and the heat from the unforgiving sun feels like it's waited to peek through the window until this very moment to cast warm rays of light on your already flushed face.

Emily meets your eyes briefly. You mirror her smirk despite the nerves setting your body on fire and wait till she resumes scanning the room before shakily pulling out your notebook and pen.

It's not until she's looking back at her computer that you dare to look at her again. Your eyes traipse lower to her blouse. The light grey - if not off-white - colour of it is brought out by the occupying white blazer Emily has now flung over her chair. She's wearing black suit trousers, secured low on her waist by a simple belt, yet, with the buckle placement being off-centre, it becomes the heart of her outfit.

The last couple of students come in, dangerously close to being late, but no one else enters once the short clock hand takes its place next to the number nine. Emily moves to stand before the large white projection screen and begins speaking. Her hands move in time with what she's saying, gesturing to what's being displayed. Clasping together now and then.

You've always paid attention to how she carries herself, though now, you were really noticing it. Her walk, her posture, the way she needn't ask for silence or for anyone to focus because she simply demands it in the way she speaks. It's enticing. She's enticing, pulling you in like a helpless fish to bait. Everything becomes background noise from then on, and all you know is Professor P.

Words bellow through the room, and you try to focus on what's being said. It's not that you don't hear; it's that this lecture doesn't register as being nearly as crucial as Emily's newly popped button - revealing a whole new ocean of skin your eyes aren't quite sure they should be allowed to see. It takes dragging your eyes to the blank lined paper on your desk to find the will to breathe normally again.

Minutes pass. You don't dare pry your eyes away from the utter mess of words littered before you. Not being able to pick on anything being said coherently means going through the slides later, but it can't be helped. Every time you glance at the front of the room, you're entranced and sure that drool may be slipping from the sides of your lips. Somehow, Emily's loose shirt has managed to cling to her in all the right places, and you can't advert your eyes from her chest.

She clears her throat, and you break away from gawking at her breasts to see she's looking directly at you, trying not to smile. Thankfully, she moves on without drawing any unwanted attention from other students your way, but the damage has already been done. Your cheeks burn under the unbearable heat of the blaring sun and pure and utter humiliation.

For the remainder of the lecture, you keep your eyes glued to your desk. Thoughts racing, heart pounding, you think of how best to sneakily pack your things before Emily is finished so that you can flee the scene of the crime as fast as humanly possible.

That decision, unfortunately, is taken away from you when Emily makes her closing statement, "Come and collect your marked papers, and then you're free to go."

After tripping over flights of stairs rushing to be first, you end up fifth in the queue, straining to watch Emily search through a hefty pile to locate the corresponding paper to the student next in line. It moves quickly, and soon enough, you're face-to-face with the professor. Staring into her cedar eyes, you wonder why she's almost to the bottom of the papers and still hasn't found yours.

"Wait to the side, and I'll look in my bag once I've handed out the rest," Emily says, gesturing to the space beside her. So much for getting out as fast as you can.

There's not much for you to do but watch Emily delicately continue handing out papers. At times, she'll bring a finger to her lips and briefly run her tongue along it. Every morsel of your body lights up at the sight, and there is a need to discover what else that tongue could do. How fast can it move? How deep can it go? Would it delve in or torture you with teasing flicks until you're shaking with want?

The last student is given their paper, and you and Emily watch them leave. It's a hopeful thought to think that you're waiting because Emily wants to have you all to herself, and if that is indeed what she wants, you have no qualms.

The brunette leans down to grab her bag, making it incredibly hard not to notice the generous amount of cleavage on offer and the beginning of what looked to be a navy blue bralette, "You seemed less focussed today," she mindlessly says, looking through the contents of her bag.

Still flustered from the view, you shake yourself out of it and search your sluggish mind for a reasonable excuse that doesn't remotely sound anything like, 'Sorry, I was busy checking you out.'

"Sorry, I got a little distracted." It's not a lie. That does little to settle your nerves and level the uneasiness of guilt settling in your stomach.

Pulling out a sheet of paper, Emily places it on her desk and steps forward. The space between her desk and the wall is slim, so when you take the necessary action to keep your body at a distance, you feel the solidity of plaster against your shoulder blades.

In an effort to disguise your growing anxieties, you relax your back against the wall and push your hips out to place your sweaty hands against cooling white paint. Resting the straining muscles in your jaw, you hope to convince the profiler that this interaction does not affect you in the slightest despite it doing precisely that.

Emily studies your pose, and it appears for a few seconds she may have bought the whole, 'I'm waiting against the wall like any other normal student would' until she, once again, places one foot in front of the other and stands a hand's width away.

"What were you paying attention to then?" she asks, her tone unmistakably changing. It's raspy and playful, filled with the prowess of an experienced sweet talker.

She reaches out and lightly skims a finger down the outside of your arm, looking expectantly into your eyes for an answer.

Breathing has suddenly become incredibly hard. Electrical currents are running up and along the length of your arms, and they're ebbing their way across your chest, down your stomach to wake up an aching between your legs. There's no doubt what she's doing is passing the appropriate boundaries, but you can't deny the fact you want to entertain it.

"You." It was meant to come out confident. Instead, the word is whispered and almost cut short by your bottom lip slapping up to meet its counterpart.

The brunette's lips curve into a devilish smile, and she steps forward, resting one hand on the wall next to your head, "Interesting. And what about me were you paying attention to?"

"Emily," you whisper. It's unclear what you're hoping to achieve with her name tumbling out of your mouth in a manner that resembles both a beg and a warning. A faint tremor echoes through your body, and a surge of fear penetrates your mind, screaming that this could all be a wild dream within your psyche's hidden depth.

The professor's left-hand rests on your cheek; she bends her left elbow to draw her face nearer yours, and you see the eye of the storm in view.

Trudging through the muck of thoughts, you stand in the clearing. It greets you with visions that you've long since yearned for. Bodies tangled together, hands clawing along a muscled back, dark hair sprawled over exposed creamy skin dotted with botches the colour of wine.

"Please," you close your eyes and send your plea into the slither of space between you, a slither that feels more like a vast ocean. The need to know if this is real has you asking for one thing, "Kiss me."

The words linger, and weeds of doubt sprout. A pair of soft lips grab them from the root and plunge them from the earth with a kiss and firm hands now moving down to wrap around the small of your waist.

You part your lips and allow your hands to find their new anchor. They loop around Emily's neck and pull her in, and she, in turn, deepens the kiss, reaching out with her tongue to seek passage into your mouth.

Complying almost immediately, your tongues meet in a brief battle of dominance, where you quickly and selfishly decide it's best to surrender. Both of you are happy to let Emily take the lead.

Moans echo over the rows of seats, hands wander frantically under layers of clothing, and soon enough, Emily has you turned around and pressed against her desk. The shirt she's wearing has been fully unbuttoned, revealing a canvas of skin ready to be devoured: milky shoulders, sharp collarbones, full breasts, nipples straining underneath a cage of lace, and the soft outline of muscles running along her stomach down to the beginnings of her trousers.

"Up," Emily growls.

Taking it upon herself to carry through her order, she holds the backs of your thighs and props you atop her desk.

She wedges herself between your spread legs, pushing her taut stomach directly over your clothed cunt. The wetness of your underwear presses against your clit, and the realisation that no one had ever gotten you this wet from merely kissing and touching dawns on you. It makes you want her more if that's even possible.

Reaching out, you take her breasts into your hands, kneading them in your palms, then push the offending material away to give direct attention to her hardened nipples. One, you take between your lips, sucking intently, the other between your thumb and index finger, pinching and twisting it. When you switch sides, Emily lets out a crackled groan and threads her fingers into your hair. Your thumb brushes over her wet nipple, pressing it lightly into her breast. You circle her tit carefully whilst mirroring the same action with your tongue.

"Fuck. That mouth," Emily moans, the cords in her neck straining as she throws her head back in pure bliss.

Once satisfied, the brunette pulls you up into a needy kiss, desperate to show her gratitude. It doesn't last long, and soon, her mouth strays along the sharp edge of your jaw, down to your neck. Her fingers skim down your shoulder, chest and stomach, down to the buttons of your trousers, where she swiftly undoes them and delves her hand in.

You grip her shoulders, leaving moon-crescent indentations into her perfect skin, and let out a spluttered gasp. Emily runs her fingers through your glistening sex, leaving you breathless, "I love how wet you are," she says into the curve of your neck.

Using the arousal gathered on her fingers, she lathers your clit, circling it with a teasing barely-there pressure. Meanwhile, her hand sneaks under your shirt to toy with your nipple.

"More," you whimper, rucking your eyebrows and jostling your hips, striving for pleasure that will break through the surface of small shocks and leave you elated.

In unison, she bites down over your thrumming pulse point and pushes her fingers knuckle deep into you. A guttural moan roars and bounces off the tall confines of the amphitheatre. As the pleasurable cry ricochets back to the small desk, Emily shows no signs of stopping, too stubborn to care or too proud to acknowledge the severity of what the sound could lead to.

The walls of your pussy clench around Emily's fingers, heightening the stretch and feel of them slipping in and out of you. The abundance of wetness allows for no friction, and the fluidity aids the brunette to pick up a faster pace.

"You're taking my finger so well," she praises, thrusting deeper and faster.

Your nails must feel like talons to her at this point, clawing and etching at her back. She makes no complaint, only latches her lips to yours and groans whilst she fucks you fervently.

"I'm going to come." You breathlessly announce.

She pulls out abruptly, and the built-up pressure dissipates into thin air, leaving you simultaneously star-struck and confused.

A protest forms but has no time to leave you because Emily pulls you into a fiery kiss. It's fast and uncontrollable, tongue darting around your mouth, teeth gnawing at your lips, until she finally breaks away to catch her breath.

"I want you to come in my mouth," she says with a ravenous grin that instantly has you nodding your approval.

"God, yes." You moan.

Emily's quick to loop her fingers through the waistband of your underwear and trousers, leaving you half naked on the desk as she places your legs over her shoulders and runs her tongue up your right thigh, leaving a shimming saliva trail.

With one clean swipe of her tongue, the professor licks the entire length of your slit and moans as the first taste of you hits her taste buds. Hungry for more, she stiffens the muscle and plunges it inside you, lapping your juices straight from the source.

If the possibility of screaming wouldn't get you caught, you would do so. For now, you settle on nestling your hands into silky brown hair whilst quietly chanting Emily's name, encouraging 'yes's' and anything else that would keep her from letting up.

The muscles in your abdomen tense almost painfully from holding your body upright. You lay back on the desk, not wanting the sensations flowing through your body to be dulled in any way. Relief floods through you, and your actions are rewarded with waves of pleasure, crashing over every fragment of your being.

The room fades away as you close your eyes and feel the professor's tongue curve inside you, running along the rough edges of your g-spot. Too afraid you'll draw blood with the continuous raking of nails through her scalp, you settle your hands above your head, wrapping your fingers over the edge of the wooden desk.

Faint voices of students walking past the doors muffle in your ears, mingling with the rushed thudding of your heartbeat. Thud, voices, thud, clambered footsteps, thud, the sound of your moan, thud, then Emily's thumbing your clit, and every sound fades to nothingness, and you stop breathing.

Tremors render you useless. Your hips are grinding erratically, Emily's tongue is pressed inside you, and your clit is twitching. Sparks linger in your vision as your eyes fly open and find lust-darkened orbs - pinning you down with their fervour and watching you fall over the edge of your orgasm.

Somehow, through the haze of your orgasm-muddled brain, you tear your hand from the desk and slap it over your mouth to silence a shrilling sob. Your chest burns. Your legs shake. And finally, you arch your back, going joint-breakingly rigid.

The older woman slows down and runs soothing circles over the sides of your thighs. Two small pecks are placed on your hip bones before Emily stands up, and you all but fling yourself upright to devour her lips in a desperate kiss. Your aroma and sharp tang linger on the tongue, sliding into your mouth and causing you to stifle a moan at the taste.

"That was amazing," you murmur over her lips.

"Mmmm," Emily hums agreeingly, breaking away and resting her head on your shoulder to catch her breath.

"I still get to keep the watch, right?" You playfully ask, though there is some room for reassurance, "I've grown quite attached."

Emily chuckles into your neck, and it's single-handedly the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Her laugh penetrates your skin and worms its way directly into your heart.

"Yes, it's yours," she replies.

"And…"

"And?" She pulls back, looking confused.

"I don't need to worry about you handing out other watches to students, right?"

The brunette tentatively meets your lips again in a sweet kiss, stopping only for a second to whisper, "Not a chance."

Tags: @ssa-sapphic @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @jenna-ortega-is-pretty17177 @supercorpstan97 @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @imlike-so-gaydude | click here to be added to my taglist

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds

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talaok · 7 months

Note

hi!!! request for joel being readers first kiss. He won’t go any further than kissing but they have a LOT of fun kissing

thx

post outbreak jackson pls

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: very brief talk of some sexual themes at the end, but the rest is... you guessed it, kissing!

a/n: 1000/10 idea i literally blushed when you sent it. idk about the execution tho

You were so incredibly embarrassed when you told him, when you finally had to confess that you had no experience, and by that I mean really none, absolutely zero.

But then again what could he have expected?

perhaps he knew right from the moment he set eyes on you, and perhaps... perhaps he liked it.

It oozed from your every pore... your innocence, it was in the way you couldn't meet his gaze, in the way you shivered when his hand grazed against your arm, in the shyness in your voice... it was in everything... it was all of you.

But he nicked at it, piece by piece, brick by brick, he had gotten to know you... maybe a little too much.

He had realized at one point, too late he'd grow to admit, that he liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn't experienced in ages, in a way that made him feel sixteen all over again.

And yes you were young... much too young for him, and yes you were complete opposites, him, a rough man with enough blood on his hands to make a serial killer's skin crawl, and you, you a pretty little thing who'd lived her whole life in Jackson, safe from the atrocities of the real word... but still, still he he couldn't stop his old heart from beating faster when he was with you.

And that's why one day, one cold, windy day, as snow fell to the ground and you held onto his arm as if it was a life jacket, while he walked you back home, he couldn't do anything but tell the truth.

"Joel" you had said right outside your front door.

"yes sweetheart?" he asked, watching your pretty face fill with dread

"Joel I... I like you"

You'd told him so casually, so simply, that for a moment he wondered if he had imagined it.

But you had misinterpreted his pause all wrong

"I-I'm sorry nevermind, pretend I didn'-"

"no, no I'm sorry" he shook his head, forcing himself out of his trance "You said you like me darlin'?" he asked, taking a step closer to you so he was right there before you, looking down at the gorgeous girl who'd just made all his wishes come true.

"mh-mh" you nodded shily

And at that, he smiled, placing a hand on your reddening cheek, as his thumb gently stroked it

"well then we're in luck" he'd murmured "cause I happen to like you too sweetheart" he promised "a lot"

"r-really?" Your eyes sparked with joy

"of course baby" he breathed, bending down to meet his lips with yours instinctively before your voice stopped him

"wait-" you said

"oh, I'm sorry, I'm going too fast"

"n-no you're not it's just that..."

it was getting harder to meet his gaze again

"if you wanna wait that's ok, sweetie"

"n-no I don't wanna wait, Joel, it's just that-"

"what is it?"

A loud sigh left your mouth before you could respond

"I've never... I've never kissed anybody"

His mouth fell open slightly at the confession, but he recovered quickly, now both his hands holding your pretty face.

"oh" he breathed "that's ok sweetheart, we can wait"

"no I want to kiss you Joel, I really really do... but- but I'm scared I won't be... good at it"

"oh baby" he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle "You'll be great at it, don't you worry"

Your heart was racing and your breathing hitched as you looked up into his hazel eyes

"do you think- do you think you could... teach me?"

Now Joel Miller didn't deem himself a romantic, but the way you said that... the way you gazed dreamily and both anxiously into his eyes as you spoke those words... he had to stop a moment to thank whoever was up there for having allowed him to meet you.

"of course I can" he said

"yeah?"

"there's nothing I'd like more baby"

And that was it, you were smiling like a kid in a candy store

"s-so what do I do?"

His hands were still on your face, holding you in a way that made your knees weak

"just follow my lead, I'll go slow, don't worry"

You nodded at that, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and you were- you were giving your first ever kiss.

You got up on your tiptoes and held onto his arms as you closed your eyes and got lost in the feeling- and wow- you had only read in books about it and seen it in a couple of the movies they showed in Jackson, but this... this was just amazing, it felt like you were dreaming, like you had ascended to another universe.

He had kept his promise, he did go slow, but it felt heavenly for him too nonetheless.

He leaned away after what was probably an eternity, to look back at you and confirm this was all real

"so?" he asked, "how was it?"

You couldn't help but giggle as you almost jumped out of your skin from the happiness.

"good" you grinned "very very good"

"mmmhh" he hummed, moving one of his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him "'s that right"

"yeah" you breathed so lowly he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been an inch away from your face

"well I'm glad" he smirked, kissing you on the cheek this time "Hopefully we'll do that again then"

"yes please"

He chuckled at that, not leaning away

"would you like a goodnight kiss?"

Not a split second passed that you had already answered

"yes" you nodded, leaning up already "yes please"

And that was how it all started.

That was the night you found your true calling... kissing, and not only that, but kissing Joel Miller.

God, there was nothing better than it,

feeling his beard stroke your cheek, the way his strong hands held you as he did, the way he tasted, the way his warmth spread all over your body, it was all just... perfect

And the coolest thing was that when he said he was gonna teach you, he meant it.

Who knew there were so many ways you could kiss someone?

There were the French kisses, the kisses on the neck, the "special kisses" aka hickeys you loved giving him and that he loved pretending not to like, then the kisses standing up, laying down, and your personal favorite: kissing him while sitting on his lap, and then of course as time went on you both found out (although him especially) how much fun it was to kiss in public, at the bar, on patrol, you name it, it didn't matter, what mattered was that his lips were on yours and his arms were around you (and even if he would have never admitted it, he loved it because he loved showing everyone you were his, and he was yours).

If it were up to you, you'd spend your whole life like that, diving your fingers into his hair as his hands explored every inch of your body, your face, your hips, your ass, your belly (above clothes of course), making you shiver and whimper with every movement.

But it was only just kissing, Joel made a promise to himself he was gonna wait, and it's not that he didn't want to go further, god only knew how many times his dick got hard just by giving you a chaste kiss on the lips as he felt your body pressed against his (and yes that did make him feel like a hormonal teenager again, but then again, everything about you did), so no it definitely wasn't that, and he didn't know if it was because he felt guilty or in some way, like he would be doing something wrong, but for now, all he knew was that he needed to wait, wait until he was sure you were sure about him, and about you.

And for now... for now, you were more than happy with it, counting down the seconds until you'd get a taste of him again.

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Final one for today

This one is a little odder but I feel like a single parent story would be great for Jamie

Like maybe reader is a single parent and is out in the park where the child is playing alone with a football (maybe trying to do some tricks) and accidentally kicks it to far and it hits Jamie (Who maybe is jogging by) jamie brings it over and does some tricks and the kid is like omg can you show me how to do that! reader is like embarrassed but Jamie is like sure so they spend a bunch of time playing football. The kid is a fan of Richmond but tickets are expensive so Jamie invites them to a game (Free) and they get to meet the team and it becomes a regular thing

Jamie is trying to work up the nerve to ask out Reader (He has never dated someone with kids before) and he doesn't want to mess up the relationship finally the child is like please ask my parent out!

I can't wait to see what you do with these!!

Here’s another one that I’ve been sitting on forever! Finally got around to it. And in case you couldn’t tell, I freakin love Keeley Jones. I think she’s great. Enjoy!

if only love were true

Thank god that Keeley Jones is your friend and she promised you’d never have to go stag to a work function.

“Keeley,” you say over the phone, “I need you to be my date for this fancy dinner/gala/thing I have for work next Sunday. I absolutely cannot go alone.”

“Next Sunday?” she says. “Let me check my calendar.”

You wait a moment as she presumably scrolls through her phone, checking her availability.

“Sorry babes,” she says after a long moment, “I’ve got a work thing too. Otherwise I’d totally be down to go as your hot trophy date.”

You groan. “Is there any way you can get out of it? Out of all the things I’ve taken you to, this is the one I need you at the most.”

Keeley’s silent. You can tell she’s thinking. She knows why this one is important.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I can’t go, but what if I sent you with a friend of mine?” She continues loudly over your beginning protests. “He’s really sweet and fit and funny, and he owes me favors pretty much for the rest of his life. You’d have a great time I SWEAR.”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Do you think he can go along with everything? There’s a 50/50 chance it’ll be a shitshow.”

“Absolutely,” Keeley replies without hesitation. “He’s fucking great. Can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but he’s learned how to use those skills for the greater good.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Right. I’m trusting you on this one, Keels. If he’s as good as you say, I’ll take him. But I really, really need this to be good.”

“Trust me,” she says, “You won’t regret it.”

—

Jamie Tartt arrives at your doorstep, fully briefed by Keeley as to his responsibilities.

Be a gentleman, make her laugh, don’t fucking leave her with Harry.

Keeley showed him pictures of Harry’s instagram so Jamie would know exactly who he is on the lookout for.

It’s funny and it’s weird, but he’s not uncomfortable standing at the door, waiting for some woman he doesn’t even know. He’d do anything for Keeley, well aware that if she’s asking a favor, it’s for a good cause.

This is far out of his usual realm of expertise, but he reminds himself that he’s a person outside of being a footballer. A regular person would be a blind date for a friend of a friend at an awful work function.

Right?

Jamie doesn’t have time to dwell on the normality of this situation because the door is opening and you’re standing in front of him in some long gown that he swears outshines the stars.

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about this.”

You call a goodbye down the hall before shutting the door. Jamie assumes it’s to a flatmate or something, whoever the owner of the other car in the driveway is. He just smiles.

“I’ve had weirder dates,” he says. “Don’t worry about a thing, love. Tonight’s gonna be fucking mint.” He offers you his arm.

You take it and feel yourself relax. It’ll be fine.

—

It is not fine.

Harry’s there, and god help you if you don’t want to kick him where it hurts. He’s surrounded by girls, shining that far-too dazzling smile and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up. Your grip on Jamie’s arm tightens, and he follows your gaze to your ex-flame.

“He’s fucking old,” Jamie comments.

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of how he gets you,” you reply. “Acts all charming and smart and shit and then next thing you know, you’re in his bed. Soon as that’s over, you’re done.”

“Twat,” Jamie responds with such conviction that you chuckle a little, despite yourself. That is, until Harry sees you and sheds his little entourage as he makes his way over.

“Shit,” you whisper. “How do I look?”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jamie replies without missing a beat.

The words are barely out of his mouth when Harry is upon you, leaning in for a hug that Jamie doesn’t allow. You’re grateful for his block as he pretends he was going for a handshake. You don’t want Harry touching you and the sentiment is reinforced as he gives you a once-over and says, “Didn’t expect to see you here, darling. What, are you neglecting your duties for the evening?”

That sentence must have some hidden meaning, because your teeth are bared and it’s gone over Jamie’s head.

“My duties,” you say through clenched teeth, “include being here at this gala because we both work for the same company.”

Harry tilts his head in mock sympathy. “Yes, but if I recall your priorities have… shifted.”

Jamie might be losing circulation in his arm and he may not know exactly what is happening here, but he knows enough. Keeley told him Harry was a right git without really saying why, but he is in no need of an explanation. In fact, he thinks that “a right git,” is too much of a compliment.

Harry turns his attention toward Jamie. “Has she told you?”

Jamie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’ll be damned if he lets this prick win.

“Yes,” he replies forcefully.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Ah, and that’s not a dealbreaker?”

Jamie shakes his head.

“How…progressive of you,” Harry replies, meaning the exact opposite. “You see, I wouldn’t want someone who… well, you know.”

Jamie’s about to say, “No, I don’t know,” and also maybe punch Harry when more people come up, demanding your attention. As you both turn away, Harry calls, “Let me know when you get tired of the immaturity and need a real man. My bed is always open to you.”

Your face is bright red and you think you’re going to bolt. Jamie starts like he’s going to fight Harry and for a moment you wonder if Keeley sent him because he’s a little bit feral.

Unfortunately for Harry and fortunately for you, he spoke a bit too loudly.

You’ll find out later that he was heard by some higher-ups and removed from the premises. However, since that information is not made available to you until the next day, you spend the rest of the evening looking over your shoulder for Harry’s reappearance.

Jamie, god bless him, is a wonderful date. He goes the whole nine-yards, holding your hand, tucking your hair behind your ear, cracking jokes with you and others at your table. He’s making you look good, and feel relaxed in the process. By the end of the night you’re feeling confident and have made a good impression on several people on the board.

You have new opportunities at your disposal, as well as a potential promotion. You put a reminder in your phone to send Keeley some daisies as a thank-you. You’ll send something for Jamie as well.

—

He walks you to your door, ever the gentleman. You thank him profusely for the night, and tell him you’ll be rooting for him next time Richmond has a match. He grins. “You a fan?” he asks.

You laugh. “Yeah, I am. Used to go to every match till… well, I just don’t get out much anymore.”

Jamie grins. “We’ll have to change that, darling.”

Darling.

He says it so differently than Harry. It’s all… bubbly. Not condescending, not designed to make you feel small.

“Good night, Jamie,” you say.

—

You don’t really expect to see (or hear from) Jamie again, except you do. Because he’s texting you.

The content varies, from messages passed on from Keeley to gifs to memes to weird little stories from training. You think you’d like his coaches, even Roy. It already felt like you knew them from all their interviews that you’ve seen, but hearing the behind-the-scenes snippets solidifies the feeling even more. Your chatting is regulated to the early morning and your lunch breaks, as you’re not much of an evening person anymore.

Jamie doesn’t seem to mind, he’s up early to do extra training with Roy and you’re up early to prepare for the day. You enjoy hearing from him at 6am on the dot every morning.

Saturdays are nice, because you don’t have work. Keeley comes over sometimes, but today you’re on the Richmond Green. You’re sitting on a bench, watching a boy kick a small football. You’re so completely absorbed in the way he’s running back and forth that you are startled when a shadow casts over your face.

“Fancy seeing you here,” says a distinctly Mancunian voice.

“Jamie!” you exclaim. “What’re you doing here?”

Jamie points to his trainers. “Going for a quick run. Roy’s out of town, but he still makes me take laps. Fucking mental.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to reply when the boy with the tiny football comes flying over. “Are you Jamie Tartt?” he asks.

Jamie crouches to his level. “I am. What’s your name, mate?”

“Liam!” he replies. “I have a football like you!”

Jamie smiles. “Good lad. Keep up with the practice, and you’ll be better than me someday.”

Liam’s bouncing up and down, so excited that he throws his ball in the air. Jamie catches it and does a trick. At this point Liam is completely enamored with Jamie, and you are as well. He’s giving this kid his complete attention, making his whole day. Anyone else would have just shooed him off, but not Jamie.

He’s good with kids, your brain yells.

You tell your brain to shut up.

Jamie tosses the ball back to Liam. “Where’s your mum?” he asks. “Might have tickets to a match for you.”

Liam points. Jamie turns to look behind the bench where you’re sitting, as that’s where Liam is pointing. There’s no one.

“Which one?” he asks, turning back to Liam.

“Me,” you say. “I’m his mum.”

Liam climbs into your lap and holds your face in his tiny hands. “Mum, Jamie Tartt says we can go to a match!” he says.

You laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up, love, Jamie hasn’t made any promises.”

Liam settles into your lap, facing Jamie. He can’t see your face or the pleading look you’re giving Jamie.

Please don’t mess this up, you try to say with your eyes. Jamie must get the message because he keeps smiling and asks Liam if he wants to kick the ball around for a bit. You watch them go, dreading the imminent conversation.

—

Liam’s asleep in his little Richmond pajamas. He loves football, and you watch every single match the Greyhounds play. Tickets are expensive, and you promised you’d take him to a real game one day. Truth is, you aren’t sure when that will be. It’s not easy being a single mum, but as you watch Liam’s sleeping face, you know you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

You sigh and get out of the rocking chair. Might as well call Jamie and get it over with.

Please pick up, you pray, and he does; you’re in the dim kitchen lights, poking at a cup of tea.

“Hey!” comes Jamie’s surprised voice. “You alright? Need anything?”

You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No, I wanted to talk about today. And Liam. Harry’s his dad.”

“Figured,” Jamie replies. “Made his comments at the gala make more fucking sense.”

“Yeah,” you say. Harry is a fucking prick. “Harry… he doesn’t have any custody. He’s not allowed near Liam. He also doesn’t pay child support. Or want a child. Or anything, really. He just wants to fuck around and do what he wants with no consequences. I should’ve known better honestly, I’m not even one to go around like that. Figures the one time I do it ends up like this. Not that I’m complaining,” you continue, “Liam is the best part of my life. It’s just hard when I keep losing people because they don’t want him too. Keeley’s the only one who stuck around. Did you know she’s a surprisingly great babysitter? Even kicks around a football in the yard with him.”

Jamie makes a surprised noise. It’s hard to picture Keeley in that exact situation, but not hard to imagine her doing anything that her friends needed.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I get if this makes things weird. You don’t have to get us tickets to the match. Liam’s still pretty little anyway… always taking bathroom breaks and needing snacks.”

“The owner’s box would be perfect,” Jamie blurts.

That isn’t the reply you were expecting, so you’re silent for a moment as he continues, “I mean… It’s easy to get in and out of, Rebecca’s got a fridge and a restroom…People bring their kids all the time. He’d love it. I’d love it,” he finishes.

You’re not sure. This is the longest anyone has ever stuck around when it comes to Liam, and you don’t really want to go to jail for murder if Jamie breaks his heart. All he could talk about for the rest of the day was how Jamie Tartt played football with him. Isaac McAdoo is is number one favorite, but you think Jamie is now a close second.

“Alright,” you say finally. “We’ll be there.”

—

It’s past Liam’s bedtime, like way past, and he’s asleep with his head on your shoulder. Your arms are tired from holding him and your throat is sore from screaming at the Richmond match. Jamie was right, Liam loved it. He wore his McAdoo jersey and got to meet the whole team before the game. You have a picture of him on Isaac’s shoulders, smiling so big. It’s weird to think that he probably won’t remember any of this when he’s older.

You’re waiting in a lobby of some kind for Jamie to come out. You’re leaning against a wall, feeling Liam’s steady breathing as he dreams.

Meanwhile, Jamie’s in the locker room, freaking out.

“Coach,” he says, wearing a hole in the floor, “how do you ask out a girl who’s got a kid?”

“Well Jamie-” Ted says.

“Are there some kind of rules I’m supposed to follow?” Jamie continues, oblivious. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say?”

“I think-” Ted tries again.

“Nah fuck it, I’m just going to ask,” Jamie says.

Ted grins. “That sounds like a good plan, son.”

Jamie smiles back. “Thanks, coach. You always have the best advice.”

Ted shakes his head, still smiling as Jamie leaves the locker room.

—

Jamie rounds the corner to find you half-asleep against a wall near some trophy case, with Liam breathing out tiny snores. He swears that he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and it freaks him out for a moment. It’s…domestic in a way he didn’t ever expect his life to be.

He shakes off the weirdness and walks over.

“Hi,” he says, unable to contain a smile. “D’you want me to hold him for you?”

“That would actually be amazing,” you reply. “My arms are killing me.”

The sight of Liam asleep in Jamie’s arms is enough to make your brain go oh shit. Because, oh. Shit. This boy is going to break your heart if you’re not careful.

“How’d you like the game?” Jamie asks as you begin to walk to the car park.

“I loved it,” you reply sincerely. “Haven’t actually been to a match since this one.” You pat Liam’s back affectionately. “Kid had a great time too. Talked about meeting Isaac McAdoo the entire match. He’s like some football aficionado in a four-year-old’s body, swear down.”

Jamie’s still smiling as he helps you get Liam into his car seat. “What’re you doing the rest of the night?”

You laugh. “Oh god, I wish I could say going to sleep. But I have to meal prep for the week while Liam’s asleep. Otherwise he gets his sticky fingers in everything. Gonna take a solid two hours, at least.”

Jamie hesitates. It’s now or never. “Could I come over?” he asks. “Can’t cook for shit, but I could keep you company.”

You pause. “Jamie- I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

But god, you want it so bad.

“I’m being serious,” Jamie says. “Not trying to mess with you. I like you. Think you’re fucking fit. I like being around you and I liked kicking the football around with Liam. He’s a good lad. I think it’s worth giving a try.”

You look at Liam. He’s still fast asleep, oblivious to his mum’s turmoil.

“Alright,” you say, still not looking at Jamie. “Let’s give it a try.”

Jamie grins and ghosts his thumb across your cheek, making you look at him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So now’s your moment to tell me to fuck off.”

You smile. “Can’t say that in front of Liam anyway,” you say as you crash your lips into his.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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rioxna · 2 months

Text

Friendships Are Overrated

fem!reader x minho

SUMMARY: you are minho's best friend, and get injured out on a run because of a griever that came out of hiding sooner that it was supposed to. love confession happens as a result of it, because of course it does

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (i waffled for a lot of it i'm sorry)

you had been sent up to the glade on the third month, making you the third person.. or ‘greenie’, to have ever been sent up to the glade as you and everyone else held captive within the large stone barriers of your cage had called it. on the outside of those walls was a large maze, with its very own walls that shifted and manoeuvred loudly every night without fail. no one knew how or why it happened, but it scared you all to death.

every month, a new terrified and confused kid would get sent up in a giant, mysterious metallic box, as well as new supplies for those already living in the glade every week. none of you knew where it came from or who was sending it up, but after a while you stopped questioning it. you were thankful that at least, whoever it was that had put you here, had the courtesy to give you all the basic resources you needed to survive.

each time, the poor kid whose fate led them to waking up in said box had no idea where they were, how they got there, where they came from, and what their name was. much like you had. most of the time they were guys, infact, they were always guys.

but not you.

you had been the only girl to have ever been sent up in the box. due to you being one of the first few - for a while, you prayed for a good few months that the next person to be brought up would be a girl. of course, you had grown used to having the guys around, they were great, but a fellow female friend wouldn't hurt.

however, it never happened.

after about five months, you stopped hoping. it became clear that only more and more boys would be brought up, and you remained the odd one out. you got along well enough with them all to come to terms with it, they respected you and you respected them. the gender ratio was definitely not the main concern you and the others had anyways, escaping whatever this place was meant far more to you all.

for a while, you and the boys tried time and time again to use the box as a way out - however all of your methods rendered you defeated. you tried everything you could possibly think of, such as sending people back down into the box when it was usually scheduled to disappear, however it wouldn't budge until they got out of it and quite frankly you needed the supplies it would bring up too much to wait any longer.

the last attempt you ever made at using the box as an attempt to escape ended up in the loss of one of your fellow gladers, the half of his body that was salvaged was left as a sick reminder for anyone who thought to try the same thing ever again to not even bother.

eventually, there was enough of you in the glade to start assigning jobs and roles to maintain a stable community as more and more people showed up.

alby, the first ever to have ever been sent up to the glade, was in charge of this. in charge of everything, for that matter.

he had naturally taken up the leadership role amongst you all, to which no one argued against, he was damn good at what he did and you all trusted him.

you were assigned the role of being a runner. runners were the only people who were permitted to go beyond the large stone walls of your enclosure and into the maze in hopes to find an out.

you liked your job, you liked the freedom of going beyond the walls of the glade and you liked the rush of adrenaline you got every time you stepped foot in the maze, not knowing whether or not you'd make it out by the end of the day or not.

but most of all, you liked minho.

minho was the keeper of the runners, he was the most promising runner out of you all - with his agility, strength, and photographic memory, it wasn't a hard choice for alby to put him in charge of everyone who ran the maze alongside him.

he had come up with a system for the runners, and everyday you all worked by it.

who ran what days, who ran what sections, he set up the mapping system you would use to keep track of your findings after a day out in the maze and all. he was incredible, and you admired him more than anyone.

not only was he one of the most impressive shanks in the glade, he was also your best friend.

you both were glued by the hip whenever you had the chance, and it had become an ongoing joke amongst the other gladers about it only being a matter of time before you two became official.

of course, you both tried to ignore the teasing remarks of your peers. who had time for a shuck relationship in this place? you would say, but deep down - the two of you were simply too scared of ruining the friendship you had already spent so long building to even try. you were fine with being friends as long as you always had eachother in some sense, after all.

it had been your turn to go out and run section 4 of the maze with another guy you had grown quite close with during your time as a runner, his name was hank.

you and hank were doing fine for the most part, not much was said as you both skilfully ran and took note of any change that had happened overnight. speaking would only slow you down, save your breath for running, minho would say.

you and hank were doing fine, that was until you both had an unexpected run in with a griever.

you had never felt fear before like you had upon seeing the disgustingly terrifying form of the griever, chasing after you full speed with its many mechanical appendages. you noted seeing spikes, shears, rods, the lot.

the sheer noise of the clicking and whirring behind you growing nearer and nearer as you fled for your life caused your ears to ring and your head to hurt.

as you were trying to desperately get out of the maze and away from the vile creature not too far behind, you suddenly tripped over a rock and went flying towards the ground, twisting your ankle and earning yourself a nasty scrape going up your arm.

you cried out as you hit the floor, hoping hank might've heard you take your tumble and turn back to help you. you truly thought he would've when he turned his head to look at you, his face mirroring the fear you felt.

that was until he called back a simple ‘sorry’ and continued to run ahead in order to save himself.

what a pussy.

well, you couldn't exactly blame him for being scared, you were too, but still. what a pussy.

you didn't have time to dwell on it however, as the griever behind you was getting far too close. you stood up on your feet and kept on running, ignoring the screaming coming from your foot that sent jolts of white hot pain surging through your leg each time it hit the ground.

due to your injury, you were running significantly slower, thus earning you a slash in the back from one of the grievers many metallic limbs as it grew impossibly closer, but somehow you managed to outrun it in the end and get out past the doors of the maze in time, you were back into the safe confinements of the glade.

you collapsed onto the ground, your vision grew blurry and your consciousness began to slip away. the last thing you remember was a group of gladers crowding around you and yelling out a number of things over the top of eachother.

“holy shuck! is she stung?!”

“someone go get clint and jeff!”

“what happened, (y/n)?!”

“she's bleeding out, quick!”

you woke up with a groan, rubbing your eyes as you sat up carefully in the bed you were in. you were in the med-hut, that much was obvious.

you kicked off the blanket that had been placed over your body and noticed how your foot had been taken care of, a bandage wrapped tightly around your injured ankle.

seemingly your back and arm had been seen to as well, you felt stiff as a bandage had been wrapped equally as tight around your torso to secure the wound on your back that you had received from the griever.

you looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but you were seemingly on your own. that was until a minute later, as if on queue, jeff walked into the med-hut.

his eyebrows raised ever so slightly upon seeing you sitting up, before a smile took over his features.

“hey, (y/n). how you feeling?”

he asked, putting down whatever it was that was in his hand and making his way over to you, placing the back of his hand over your forehead in an attempt to check your temperature.

“like i've just been attacked by a griever.”

your voice was hoarse and rough, causing you to wince slightly at the sound of it.

jeff simply laughed, rolling his eyes.

“yeah, i'll bet. thankfully, you weren't stung though. dunno how, you lucky shank.”

he walked back to the door of the med-hut, turning to face you before he left.

“i'm gonna go tell minho you're awake, that moron was a mess when he heard what happened, i'll be back.”

you said nothing as he made his way out of the building and shut the door gently behind him. you felt your heart flutter slightly at the mention of minho’s name and at the fact he was so worried about you, before mentally preparing yourself for the scolding you were probably about to receive from the man.

due to you being such close friends with him, you had seen almost every side of him. to you, he was nothing more than that sarcastic, humorous and confident douchebag you had grown to love. however it would be foolish to forget just how serious he can be sometimes.

you waited patiently for minho to arrive, and when he did - you had never seen him look so worried. if anything, his expression worsened upon seeing the state you were in.

“hey, min. long time no see,” you attempted to joke, in which he simply furrowed his brows at as he moved swiftly across the room towards you.

once he got in front you, he cupped your face in his rough hands, looking over your features for any injuries on that ridiculously pretty face of yours, before pulling you into a hug.

“jesus christ, you asshole. do you know how shuckin’ worried i was about you??”

“ow, ow, ow, ow- min, my back.”

he mumbled out an apology, before gently pulling away and seating himself on the bed opposite you, his expression slightly less tense but still holding that same concern he had come in with a minute before.

“what the hell happened out there?” he demanded, his tone a weird mix between pure worry and anger.

“well.. y'know, me and hank had an unfortunate run in with a griever. during the day.” you shrugged simply, summing the story up.

“i don't understand-” he ran a hand through his trademark perfectly styled black hair.

“how the hell are you the only one who came out injured? what was hank doing?”

you pursed your lips for a second, debating whether or not to rat on hank for leaving you behind.

“i tripped over a rock when we were running away from it and hurt my foot.” you lifted up your injured foot ever so slightly as your legs hung over the side of your bed, showing him the bandaged limb.

“and hank didn't come and help you?” he asked, the anger in his expression increasing.

“well… no, not exactly, but-”

“i am going to kill that shank-”

minho stood up, getting ready to go out there and rock hank’s shit for practically leaving you, his best friend, to die at the gruesome hands or whatever they had of a griever.

you quickly grabbed a hold of his wrist, stopping him from going any further.

“minho, stop! there's no point, dude.”

“how is there not, huh? that shucking slinthead left you to die. i'm gonna see to it that he spends a month in the pit for that,” he exclaimed, yanking his hand away from your grasp as he turned around to face you again.

“minho, he was scared. we were both terrified and running for our lives, it's not his fault i tripped on a damn rock.”

his features softened a little at your words, before sitting back down on the bed opposite you, mumbling some curse under his breath.

an amused smirk tugged at your lips as you studied the boy in front of you.

“you need to chill out, min. i'm alive and for the most part well, that's all that matters.”

his eyes lifted from the ground to meet your gaze, letting out a sigh.

“i know, i know. i just- you're my best friend, (y/n), and i just can't lose you. but i came this close to it today, i dont..”

he trailed off, slumping back against the wall behind him.

“i don't know what i would've done. hank would've been really in for it then if you had died.”

your heart softened at his words, it wasn't often he was all mushy and affectionate with you but you took it in gratefully, your face flushing slightly.

you're not sure where you got the surge of confidence from, probably from the fact you almost died less than two hours ago, but you were sick and tired of dancing around your feelings for him. if what happened today wasn't a big enough sign you need to get over it and just tell him how you feel, you don't know what was.

“man, i hate that word.”

he raised a brow in confusion as he looked at you.

“what word?”

“friend.”

the look on his face changed from one of confusion to one of slight shock, as he tried to decipher what you meant.

“uhh, come again? did you hit your head or something when you fell?”

“no, you asshole.” you spat with a smile, shaking your head

“i'm sick of being your friend, i dunno if it's because i was this close to dying today or what but it's made me realise that i'm done pretending like i don't want to be more than just your friend.”

you explained, suddenly feeling very small under his gaze as he watched you speak with slightly parted lips, his own face growing hot at your words.

“i like you, minho. i like you a lot, actually. not to get all cheesy, but i hate how much i like you.”

for the first time since he entered the med-hut, minho smiled. the type of smile that brought out his dimples and made his eyes disappear, the type of smile you liked seeing on him the most.

“yeah?” he said simply.

“yeah.”

he wasted no time in pushing himself forward from his position on the bed and leaning on the ground in front of you, cupping your face in his hands and closing the gap between the two of you with a kiss.

due to you both being inexperienced teenagers, it was a little awkward at first, but you both got the hang of it pretty quickly as you melted into his touch.

“hey minho, alby wants-”

clint barged into the med-hut but cut himself off as he looked at the scene in front of him, a smirk appearing on his face.

“well it's about damn time.”

“get outta here, slinthead. i'll be out in a minute.”

clint left and closed the door behind him, rolling his eyes playfully as he did so.

minho turned his attention back to you, bringing his hands down from your face to rest on both of your thighs.

“does… does this mean you're my girlfriend?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“i mean i'd say so, yeah.” you shrugged.

“holy shuck, you're my shucking girlfriend.”

“yeah i am, ‘n you're my boyfriend.”

hi hiii !!! this is my first x reader fic AHHHH it was so so fun to write minho is my bae .... if u liked pls give me some requests on what else i should write !!! tmr is my main thing rn and minho is my fav but i'll try my best to write for any of the characters bc they are all my babies

note; this is proofread but like . if u do happen to see a mistake no u don't

#minho tmr x reader #minho tmr #minho x reader #tmr minho #tmr x reader #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner fic #minho fic #rioxna

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bkgml · 1 year

Text

katsuki taking care of drunk you!

you and katsuki were in a weird place.

you both know you want each other, (so does the entire dorm). you’ve just never confessed so you’re in a weird stage of being more than friends but less than lovers.

earlier today kami got an invite from one of his one night stands to a party at a local college. she said to bring whoever he wants, so he invited you, bakugou, kirishima, mina, and jiro. you were so excited, if you could get katsuki to have a beer with you, maybe he’d loosen up a little and you could talk about your ‘situation’.

until bakugou had the genius idea to be the designated driver. why does he have to be so stupid and responsible?

guess you’re drinking away your problems tonight.

you get ready with the girls, giggling and bringing multiple outfits to mina’s dorm so she could pick for you.

“yn! you should literally wear none of these!” she saying laughing.

“you want bakugou to take notice of you tonight right?” she asks.

“well i mean a little bit, but not just for him! i’m independent!” you yell and jiro whoops.

“you’ve been independent for too long yn! it’s time to take what you want! i think, you should wear…. this!” she says pulling a dress out of her closet.

the perfect little black dress.

“okay i’m with mina now!!” jiro! how could she betray you like this!

you laugh and hold the dress up to yourself in the mirror.

“alright, alright! but only cause i’m going to look good in this.” you say shocked.

the girls cheer and you all finish getting ready.

“what the hell’s taking so long.” bakugou grumbles to his friends in the hallway.

“relax, bakugou we’re here!” you say, walking down the hallway with your girls.

“wow! you guys look great!” kirishima says, proud.

“thanks kiri!” the three of you say together.

you all get in the car and head to the party.

as you pull up, you take notice of the massive place you’re going to.

“holy shit! this is going to be awesome! our first college party!” mina squeals.

“none of you little shits better get lost, or pass out, or nothing. we’re all meeting back in this car at midnight or you’re all fuckin dead.” bakugo warns.

a chorus of ‘fine’ sings as you all get out and head to the party.

you spend the night trying to forget your issues with bakugou, by drinking, dancing, drinking, talking to your friends, drinking.

“haven’t you had enough?” bakugou says in your ear.

“lighten up. it’s a party, remember?” you say, walking away.

bakugou grumbles and goes to find a wall to lean on, so he can stand there and glare at you and your friends.

some loser chick tries to talk to him, and he looks her way to turn her down as politely as he can.

but as he looks back, you’re fucking gone.

“what the fuck? i looked away for one goddamn second.” he says to himself. eyes scanning the party in search of you.

after a minute of searching he hears a guy ask you to go upstairs with him. he’s about to lose his shit before he sees you walking up the stairs with him.

he scoffs. are you joking right now?

“yo!! bakugou! is that yn? whys she going upstairs with that guy? thought she liked you.” kirishima says.

“yeah. so did i.” he grumbles.

“well are you sure she wants to be going upstairs with him? she had a lot to drink” kirishima asks.

fuck he didn’t even think of that. he didn’t hear you say yes.

he stomps towards you, he needs to make sure you’re okay.

suddenly he sees your quirk activate, the guy sent into the wall.

you turn and see bakugou. fuck you need out of here.

“katsuki!” you say, rushing towards him.

katsuki? his heart jumps.

“hey, hey, what’s goin on?” he asks with his hands on your shoulders.

“wanna go home.” you slur.

fuck you’re so drunk.

“yeah, come on.” he says while leading you towards the rest of the group.

“alright dipshits, let’s go.” he says.

“whattt, but it’s not even 11:30!” mina defends.

“we’re going. now.” he says walking away, pushing you along with him.

you guys make it outside before you’re running into a bush to hurl your guts out.

“shit. come on, yn. you alright?” he says, rubbing your back, soothingly.

you stand straight and wipe your mouth.

“i wanna goooo.” you whine, pouting.

“i know, let’s get you home.”

you all get into the car, katsuki guides you to the passenger seat.

“but this is kiris seat.” you say, feeling guilty for taking it.

“i know, he won’t mind though, okay? you’re so sweet for thinkin of him.” he runs his fingers through your hair and you lean into his touch.

you all get into the car. while katsuki drives he keeps an eye on you, squirming in your seat.

“katsuki, i dont feel good.” you whine.

the car goes silent. you called him by his first name? and he didn’t murder you??

katsuki glares at them for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. a silent ‘dont fuckin say a word’ warning and the people in the car resume to their normal chattiness.

“i know you don’t, yn. we’re almost there, okay? just hang on.” he soothes.

you stop squirming and try to take deep breaths to settle your stomach.

“alright we’re here, get out.” katsuki says to the idiots in his back seat.

once they leave katsuki gets out and opens your door for you. you run past him and throw up in another bush.

“fuck, are you okay?” katsuki asks.

“i wanna go to sleep, katsu.” you mumble.

katsuki takes you inside and walks you to your dorm.

“where are your keys, yn?” he asks and you hand them to him.

he opens your door and steps inside.

“are you done throwing up for tonight?” he asks cautiously.

“think so.” you hiccup.

“go brush your teeth, kay? i’ll get your pyjamas.” he says and gently pushes you into your bathroom.

he looks around your room and guesses which drawer your pyjamas sit in. thankfully, he guesses right.

he picks some pyjamas for you and lays them on your bed.

you come out of the bathroom looking more refreshed.

“alright, you’re all set. see you tomorrow during your hangover.” katsuki says, turning on his heel and waking to your door.

“wait!” you call to him. he turns to you.

you walk to him and kiss him. hard. trying to start something you can’t finish. at least you used mouthwash.

“hey, hey, hey, no.” he says pulling you off him.

“please? i can’t do this waiting thing anymore katsuki.” you plead with him.

“i’m sorry, but i’m not doing this for the first time with someone who probably won’t even remember it in the morning.” he sighs, walking away again.

you run up to him again and wrap your arms around him, your cheek pressed to his back.

“i’m sorry. i made you upset.” you say.

god you’re so drunk.

he turns in your grip.

“i’m not upset, baby. i just don’t want us doing something we’ll regret cause you were drunk.”

you look up at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“will you stay the night with me? i don’t feel good and you’re so warm.” you plead.

he thinks for a moment. would you freak out if he was in your bed and you don’t remember why, maybe… but you trust him enough to believe why.

“okay, i’ll stay. get into the bathroom and change. i’ll wait for you.” he says, ushering you to the bathroom.

“promise you won’t leave?” you ask.

“i promise.” he pats your head and goes to sit on your bed.

thank god he wore comfortable clothes. you would probably have a harder time believing that nothing happened if he was in his boxers.

a couple minutes go by until you step out of the bathroom. you shyly walk up to him and sit in his lap.

you’re clingy when you’re drunk.

you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his chest.

he laughs lightly and swings his legs onto your bed before pulling the covers over the two of you. you being completely on top of him, curled into a little ball to help settle your stomach.

he runs his fingers through your hair and you kiss his peck in response.

maybe he’ll let dunce face drag you two to a couple more parties.

part 2

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader

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