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kisses4reid · 1 month

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red tissues | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you get nose bleeds regularly, the alarming increase in their appearances gets aaron’s attention, especially when you wake up one day to blood covering your entire face for aaron to see.

genre - hotch x fem!reader, fluff

warnings - lots of mentions of blood, nose bleeds, mentions of being over worked, sickness

a/n - i’m going to open a permanent taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in every criminal minds fanfiction i write, so either comment on this or make a request that you’re interested! ❤️

The office was buzzing with the sound of typing and chatting, pens being passed and chairs being adjusted. The night was surely coming, sun setting against the window panes to cast shadows onto piles of files. Your desk was dark and your pile was unfortunately much taller than everyone else’s. Funny how shooting a criminal earns punishment through 10 more files to fill out.

But right now, all you cared about was filling your Snoopy mug with something. The coffee machine was broken by a certain muscly man, so some tea bags delivered that day were your only solace. Chamomile. Sounded tranquil enough.

As you waited for your beverage to brew, you glanced back to your desk and then to your teammates. You should’ve taken Spencer and Emily’s offers to take some files off you, but being a perfectionist and selfless, you kindly declined. Shoulder’s slumping, you pulled the mug close to your nose and took a long smell, closing your eyes in relief.

Suddenly, right before you could take the much needed first sip, a pang hit your head and your eyes and eyebrows ached, causing you to clench them. When you opened your eyes, the light brownish-yellow of the tea was mixing with red.

Blood. Shit.

You swiftly turn to grab some tissues as your boss, Aaron Hotchner, was grabbing his plain mug from the top shelf, you hadn’t even noticed him in your panic. He followed you with his eyes as he grabbed a green tea packet. The tissues held against your nose were turning red and soggy. And before he could ask what had happened, you had abandoned your mug and vanished from the room, heading for the bathrooms.

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows and noticed the discolouration in your mug, before grabbing it and washing it out for you.

A few days later, Morgan and Reid were sat in front of you, JJ leaning on your seat’s armrest as Aaron conversed with a lawyer over the phone. Prentiss covered the basic details of the case but all you could focus on was the slight pang in your heart when you heard Aaron chuckle at whoever was talking with him. Though your eyes didn’t leave the case files, your ears were suddenly attached to your boss’ voice.

Which was much closer, after he sat down next to you.

You felt stupid, being happier now that his attention wasn’t on some other woman, even though his attention still wasn’t on you. He sighed as he sat, a whiff of his strong cologne circling the group as they updated him on other details they had caught. You mentally scolded yourself for acting like a 14 year old girl crushing on her teacher, but alas, you would continue.

“We noticed all of the victims went to private religious schools, most of them went to church as well. Y/n pointed out how in all of their photos, they were dressed in a conservative way - which is a contrast when we look at their ages.” Spencer started before Rossi added,

“They’re all teenagers, nearly turning 20. They all had boyfriends, and we found that one of them was already engaged.”

You listened carefully, looking at the faces of the victims that were spread on the table, “As well as the common religious commitments, they all had one other thing in common.” You squinted your eyes with a short breath, feeling a headache approaching before you pointed something out that nobody else had noticed, “Same initials, all of them.”

Hotch nodded, “Amy Sanders, Alice Soo, Adriana Santiago and Alexa Smith. Nice work, Y/n.”

But before you could reject the complement and internally squeal, a throb attacked your head, and your eyes scrunched to create wrinkles you would try to massage away that night, before you threw your hand under your chin to swiftly catch a drop of blood. It was like a 6th sense these days.

“Excuse me.” You croak, leaving the back of the plane with Prentiss close behind you. You bent your head back before the raven haired woman’s hand pushed it forward. “Don’t do that, the blood might go down your throat.”

You followed her instructions and raised any eyebrow, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My niece used to have a lot of nose bleeds whenever she had a cold.” She promptly explained as she bent to pull out tissues from the white bathroom cabinets.

Around 5 minutes later, you and Prentiss returned to your respective seats, no one but you noticing a strong stare following you. “Are you okay, L/n?” Spencer asks, squinting in curiosity. “Yeah, sorry, sensitive nose, that’s all,” you lied.

These weren’t the first times you’ve had nose bleeds at work or around the team. There was one on your third day of work, the second time you went to a bar with Garcia, and one time on the plane around 4 months ago. You had been lucky that all your other nosebleeds happened either on the way to work or in the comfort of your own apartment. These days, when each case was followed by a heavier one, and each road trip was followed by a 10 hour flight, you were starting to get exhausted. You’re body has decided nose bleeds was the indication for you to take a fucking break.

The next week, you had almost forgotten about your unfortunate trait until a certain tall man called you into his office. “I need those finger print files done by tonight, is that alright?” He asked, smooth voice cutting through your fatigue, leaning on the front of his desk only a metre away from you.

You glanced at him up and down. He was clad in a smoke grey suit, perfectly fitted to his muscles and wide shoulders, tie loose enough to show the amount of work he had been through that morning. He smelt amazing, like wood and petichor, like metal and… “Yeah of course, sorry. I put the victims confirmed profiles on Spencer’s desk to check over before I could finalise the um…” Shit. Why did this have to happen right now?

But before you could even excuse yourself or hold a hand to your nose, a soft hand was cupped under your chin, careful not to touch you but close enough to catch droplets. Heat was radiating from the near contact, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the eye contact you were putting yourself through, or the blood that was currently pooling down your chin and into his palm. Aaron had appeared so swiftly, you wondered how he knew. “We should really get you checked out.” He said, recalling back to your third day on the job.

“You can check- You’re right I should get… your hand is getting blood on it.” He broke your eye contact and glanced down at his palm, before taking a breath and nodding. “Right, let’s get you cleaned up.”

His other, clean, hand is hovering over your lower back, and everyone’s eyes are hovering over the two of you, following you into the closest bathroom available. You can feel your cheeks heat up. As you pass the kitchenette, he picks up the box of tissues and you try to grab some from his hand, but instead of allowing you, he takes your wrists and holds one to your nose himself. His grip is soft, but restricting, warm. And you can’t help but look at him as he searches for an empty bathroom.

In the bathroom, he guides you to lean over the sink, washing his hands in a sink beside yours while watching you carefully. You look at him through the mirror, and you’re so distracted you almost don’t hear him tell you, “Lean forward more, don’t pinch your nose too hard.”

You comply and he crosses his arms and leans adjacent to you. “Do you know what’s causing all these nose bleeds?”

You thought back to shorter than 5 minutes ago and bit your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “Um, I think it was your cologne.” You glance over to him finding he was already looking into your eyes. You were embarrassed, he was your boss and you were basically insulting him. “You smell great, don’t get me wrong. My nose and I obviously have different… opinions.”

Aaron nods with a small smirk, compelling you to look away before you say anything more.

Thankfully, saving you from any more embarrassment, your nose stopped painting the porcelain sink reddish-orange. “Thank you for helping me, Hotch.”

Aaron returned to his computer and opened a tab, searching ‘Common causes for frequent nose bleeds’, and, ‘Ways to avoid nose bleeds’.

And the next morning, Aaron walked into the office to get his coffee (the machine had been promptly fixed after your nose bleed situation) before Morgan spoke up, “New cologne, Hotch?”

Hotch nodded, and turned back to his coffee, pocketing some chamomile satchels to dispose of later. The comment reassured Aaron.

He wanted to be someone you could be around without risking anymore red tissues.

Aaron placed himself next to you on the plane, the team had gone over the case six times already, and the plane flight was long. It’s always been long. You opened your mouth to greet him before he cut you off, “We can provide a doctor for you, if these nose bleeds keep happening.”

You blink in surprise, “I’m sorry they’re inconvenient but there’s not much I can do about it.” You bit the inside of your lip, unaware that your bleeds had caused anything negative other than a decrease in tissue supplies and unwanted attention (not including Aaron’s).

“I’m not saying it’s an inconvenience to me,” he shakes his head, “They’re an inconvenience to you. I’m worried it’s because you’re overworked.”

Oh.

You cleared your throat and avoided eye contact.

He continues, “You get to work the earliest, stay the latest, you’re always the one travelling the furthest when we have to split up.”

A smirk appears on your face as you finally look back up at the stoic man, “Sounds like someone I know.”

“I make time, Y/n.”

You wrung your hands in your lap and sighed, “I’ve had this problem since I was a kid, Hotch. My longest record between nose bleeds was three months, that's only because I finally found some medication.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “They had terrible side effects, it wasn’t worth saving some tissues. I can deal, is what I’m saying.”

He nods and looks away in thought, that's when you allow yourself to look over his chest and arms, his posture and his… smell?

“You smell different.” “I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner since what he said on that plane a little over five days ago. He changed his cologne, he offered to find a doctor, he listened to your reasoning. You thought he was being friendly. You wanted him to be a little bit more than that.

The plush seats and convenient seating arrangement that put you next to Aaron didn’t offer any comfort against the dry and hot weather of Nevada. If a place was your enemy, this was it. You had already concealed a small bleed in the drive over, Spencer not giving you a second look when you pretended to sneeze into a tissue. With the increased frequency, she didn’t want any useless worry. You weren’t going to take a break, so you needed to hide any signs of exhaustion as best you could. Even when the sheriff opened every window in the temporary office, JJ continued waving herself with a file, Morgan had already chugged three plastic bottles of water. Even Hotch only had a dark blue dress shirt on and damn did he look hotter than the sun.

But even with your best techniques and play-pretends (never looking down for too long, staying hydrated, avoiding the hotter places in the precinct), an unfortunate pang hit the front of your head and travelled to your nose. Your eyes shuddered, and you started to look for a tissue, before one appeared at the bottom of your chin before blood even trickled down your top lip.

It was Aaron holding it there, eyes on the case.

You looked at him in surprise and awe, before you took the tissue off him and excused yourself, getting a worried look from the old sheriff.

The tall man had learnt when you were about to get a nosebleed, a sudden stop in motion, scrunched eyebrows and eyes, stopped breathing. And as you left his line of vision, he tried not to worry about the amount of blood you would lose in this weather, and it motivated to close this case even more.

Everyone around the table glanced at Hotch and then at each other, putting on blank faces when Hotch looked up.

It wasn’t much better in the hotel rooms you had been given. They had aircon, and free water, but small windows, and broken fridges.

It was a relief to be able to sit on something that wasn’t covered in someone else’s sweat, even if it would be covered soon by your own. You had the coldest shower you think you’ve ever had, put on a larger t-shirt and a small pair of basketball shorts to fight against the heat during the night.

It came a surprise to you when you were blood free the entire afternoon and you counted it as good luck for the flight home, forgetting to place tissues or water on your bedside table. After denying an invitation to poker, you threw yourself onto the bed with crisp white sheets and soft pillow cases, in the direct shot of the air conditioning and only window in the room, and passed out.

There was a frantic knocking on your door, or maybe a pounding in your head. You couldn’t tell, and when you tried to investigate, you felt like your eyelids were sewn shut.

You were able to peak them open and lift yourself weakly, when suddenly a figure appeared in front of you with long blonde hair and soft hands on your shoulders.

“JJ?” Your lips felt tight.

“Jeez, Y/n. How long have you been sick?” Her voice was muffled, but as your vision became clearer so did your hearing. Hotch stopped in your open doorway, already dressed and bags dropped in the hallway, before walking in.

For a second you were going to try and stand to clean your room, realising how late it was. But as soon as you tried to stand, everything went hazy, and you could taste metal on your tongue.

“Y/n, we need to get you cleaned up.” JJ said sweetly, as if you were a child. She took your heavy arms and pulled them to the bathroom, light making your headache into a migraine.

You lifted a hand to the bone between your eyebrows, and when you took it off, it had dried blood on it. As JJ grabbed your body towel from last night and wet a corner of it, you stole a sight of your face. Your mouth and nose was covered in dry blood, some of it had travelled to your left cheek, and between your eyebrows. There was fresher blood on your chin and some even on your next.

You had a delirious thought that you had been stabbed, or you had stabbed someone, but when you looked out into the bedroom and saw Aaron taking the pillow case off of the pillow you were using, you wondered if you caused it to go from white to red overnight.

“What happened?” JJ asked, carefully placing her fingertips on the bottom of your jaw while her other hand dabbed softly at your face. You couldn’t answer, even though you had a fairly good guess. Aaron appeared in the mirror to hand JJ some pain killers, for you.

Swallowing was painful, but as your blonde friend wiped off the last bit of blood from your top lip, you looked worse than your throat felt.

“I’m sorry JJ, I could’ve cleaned myself up.”

“Don’t apologise Y/n. You worried me. You weren’t responding to your texts, not even Hotch’s,” she put the towel down and looked into your eyes with a motherly concern. “I think you need to listen to Hotch when he offers you a doctor again.”

And you nod, because she was right.

JJ left the room with a hug, leaving you with a very cross Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m-“

“You could’ve choked, or suffocated, or passed out- Actually I think you did.” He motioned towards your alarm clock that had been running since 5 a.m. “Y/n…” He looked confused, worried, sad? Your eyes hadn’t 100% cleared yet, a headache slowly throbbing, knees still slightly buckling. You wanted to lay down and be thrown into an ice bath.

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” You croaked out.

“You’ve got one window open, cold and dry aircon on, and no water bottle on your bedside table. You should’ve asked to sleep in the same room as someone, in the same room as me.”

You looked down to your feet, only noticing now that Aaron had packed all of your things for you.

“I thought you had been…” He raked a hand through his hair and paced before placing his hands on your upper arms, “I’m going to get you to a doctor, and you can’t say no. That’s an order.”

His grip tighten only slightly, before he turned around and left with your luggage, heart beating fast in his chest.

You were back home, thank god. The air was cooler and clearer, and you didn’t feel like you needed to moisturise every two minutes. You stretched your arms above your head, squishing your eyes closed for some relief to the sting from the computer screen. Your chest expanded deeply, and your nose finally cleared.

And when you opened your eyes, you glanced over to your boss’ office windows to see if he was still working. But he was already out of his door, looking at you.

Butterflies played tag with each other in your stomach, a blush crossing your face and you both shot your gazes away.

His shoes were nearly silent against the floor, but when you quickly stood to pack your shoulder bag and take the sweater off the back of your chair, Aaron was there to greet you when you turned around.

“Let me walk you out?” He asked, as if the last words he said to you weren’t full of unprofessional emotions.

You were silent for at least 3 seconds, Aaron getting worried for a second before you stumbled over your words, “Y-Yes plea- Yeah. Sure.”

He smiled, a genuine smile.

Side by side, his briefcase touching your shoulder bag, you made your way towards the elevator. Aaron fiddled with his fingers and felt unfamiliarly nervous, heart thumping a little harder than when he walked out of his office.

“Thank you for everything. Caring, catching my blood. I would ask how you knew, but you are a profiler after all.” You smile softly, and he nods. “I’m glad you noticed.” He presses on the car park level in the elevator, hands coming to discreetly fidget once again.

And you can’t take the silence, “You still smell good.”

“You always do.” Aaron looks as surprised that he said that as you do, looking away quickly before looking up and sighing, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I have a movie I want to watch, maybe a recipe I wanna try,” you reply oblivious, shuddering at the sudden change of temperature when you both exit the elevator. Suddenly a thicker layer of fabric was draped over your shoulders, one that smelt like new cologne. You blushed, looking up at him.

The cold breeze was pushing his hair out of place slightly, making his nose a little redder, his eyes clearer. He looked like the word handsome humanised.

“I think that you should watch that movie and try that recipe at… my place.”

You widened your eyes chasing any regret or embarrassment in his eyes, but all you got was nervousness, something you had rarely seen in him before.

He is so handsome, I can’t believe this is happening, I have to tell Garcia- Can I tell Garcia? He’s my boss after all- I mean this doesn’t mean it had to be a date or anything-

Some blood dripped onto the jacket draped over his shoulders.

“You could’ve just said no.” He joked as you pinched your nose, smiling against the small headache. It must’ve been the last bit of blood from that morning. “No, I wanna go, I do- Just, could you get a tissue from my glovebox? I don’t want to get anymore blood on your coat.” You reply, nasally and carefully.

“We’re definitely getting you to a doctor.”

“Sounds like a fun first date.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotch oneshot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fluff

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joelscruff · 4 months

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keep it squeaky (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

a/n the way this just kinda happened and idk how to explain any of it. if it's not your thing pls move along!! but if it is your thing...enjoy. bear with me, it was written in about 30 minutes. summary: joel miller has a problem, and it's his daughter's new best friend. or, alternatively, joel listens to you pee while he's in the shower. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age gap (you're in your 20s, joel is in his 50s), piss kink (????) i honestly don't know if this classifies as actual piss kink. he can hear you pee (and then watches you). you're on the toilet. idk if i can get any more clear than that, jerking off in the shower, joel having dirty thoughts cause he's a dirty old man, imaginary creampie, imaginary tummy bulge word count: 1.8k

You've been teasing him. You love teasing him.

It's been a long, grueling week of teasing.

But you and Sarah finally head back to college tomorrow, and he can't thank his lucky stars enough. He'd thought it'd be nice having her back here, even nicer that she decided to bring a friend along.

How wrong he'd been.

You're, for lack of a better word, persistent. Very persistent. And he's flattered, don't get him wrong, he's extremely flattered; beyond awestruck that someone as young and beautiful as you would have any interest in an old man like him. It had taken a few days for him to actually even accept what was happening; the flirty comments, the seductive glances, the little touches here and there. He'd thought he was making it up, that maybe you were just a touchy-feely kinda person, a lover of intimacy with everyone.

Until you'd been on the couch together on the third night. You'd leaned over to grab something - the remote, your drink, he can't even remember now - and you'd purposely made sure to brush your knee against his bulge. You'd kept it there for a few seconds, rubbed it gently, and then with a wink you'd grabbed whatever you'd been reaching for and settled in next to him again. Sarah, on the opposite side of you, hadn't noticed a thing.

But he had. And he'd noticed everything else you were doing after that. Nudging your foot against his ankle under the kitchen table, brushing past a little too closely in the kitchen so that your breasts pushed against his back, wiped crumbs of dessert from his mouth with your thumb and then sucked it into your own with a wide-eyed and flirtatious expression.

Not to mention the shit you wore - when you'd first arrived you'd been in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, nothing unusual. But after that first day of meeting him you'd suddenly switched to dresses exclusively. Short little things that barely covered the tops of your thighs, frilly material that bunched up in the back whenever you bent over.

He's now seen the plump shape of your ass and those delicate little panties you wear way too many times to count.

But he can't. He cannot act on the desire he feels for you, even though you're quietly begging for it. You're his daughter's best friend, not to mention he's three times your age. Only a dirty old man would even consider reciprocating the things you've done to him this week.

It's just one more day, he tells himself. Just one more day and she's gone.

It's on that final day that he finds himself where he usually does on a Saturday morning - in the shower. He's humming along to a tune he can't place and scrubbing body wash along his arms when he suddenly hears a knock at the door, light and almost shy. He freezes, raises an eyebrow.

"Mr. Miller?" he hears your voice on the other side, "Can I come in? I have to pee."

His eyes go wide; is she serious? She can't wait a few minutes for him to finish?

"I'll be out in a few," he calls back, trying to ignore the speed at which his heart is suddenly pounding.

"I don't think I can wait, I really have to go," you reply almost immediately, voice edged with a desperation he can't tell is real or fake. He lets out a low groan, hand coming up to pinch the space between his eyebrows as he figures out what to do.

Before he can decide he hears the squeak of the bathroom door, opening just a little bit. Fuck.

He could yell at you. He could tell you to leave him alone, to give him privacy. He'd have every right. Even Sarah would back him up.

But then he hears your little voice again, soft and eager.

"I'll be quick, I promise."

He brings his hand to his mouth, bites at the flesh on the back of it and shakes his head underneath the stream of water. This is a bad idea. This is a very bad idea.

"Okay," he manages to say, voice husky and muffled against his skin.

He hears you close the door behind yourself, hears the soft footsteps of your bare feet against the tile. He wonders what you're wearing; if you're still in your pajamas - those cute little pink shorts and that tiny white bralette - or if you're already dressed. What if you're wearing another one of those little dresses?

His cock, which only a moment ago lay soft against his inner thigh, starts to harden.

"M'sorry, I really had to go," he hears you say sweetly from the other side of the shower curtain, "And you guys only have the one bathroom, so..."

"It's okay," he replies, voice almost pained, "It's okay, I don't mind."

And he hates that it's the truth.

He doesn't hear you sit down on the toilet over the sound of flowing water, isn't sure whether you've already started or you're still waiting for him to say something else. He clears his throat awkwardly, willing himself not to look down at his growing erection.

"Y'good there?"

"Yeah, sometimes it just takes me a minute when I'm around someone else."

Then why the fuck couldn't you just wait? He wants to ask, desperation and arousal clawing at his thoughts as he leans his head back against the shower wall. He brings his hands up and covers his eyes, wills you to just do what you need to do and get out.

His cock bobs against his stomach.

And then he hears it - it's different than the shower, less heavy. More light, delicate. An almost melodic sound that echoes against the bathroom walls, overwhelms his senses to the point where it's suddenly all he can hear. It flows out of you slowly at first, then steadily.

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You're doing this on purpose. He fucking knows you are. He knows you're dragging it out, taking your time, knows that you're probably hoping he'll take a peek at you as you do it.

And fuck, he hates that you're right.

He removes his hands from his face and brings one down to finger the shower curtain quietly, pulling it the tiniest bit so he can see past it. He feels like such a fucking pervert, the dirtiest old man that ever existed, and yet the throbbing in his now fully hard cock and the sound of you pissing inches away is telling him that he needs to look.

So he does. And there you are.

You are wearing one of your dresses, pink and tiny and perfect. Your pretty little panties are around your ankles and you've got your dress bunched up over your thighs, almost up to your chest. He can see so much of you, so much that's been hidden only just out of sight all week. The tops of your thighs, round and soft, the perfect pouch of your belly that peeks out under where you're holding the material of your dress. And there...just barely in view... he can see the smallest hint of your pussy.

He stares. And he listens.

You must know he's watching you, but you don't let on. You stare straight ahead, holding your dress high above your tummy and pushing out the remainder of your release with a dazed little smile on your face.

He wonders if your clit is throbbing. He wonders if it's poking out while you sit there, wonders what colour it is and how it would feel beneath his fingertip. He hears that beautiful twinkling sound and imagines what your pussy must look like as it relieves itself, wonders if it's pulsing, wonders what your little holes must be doing under there, just out of his eyesight.

With barely any thought he begins to stroke his cock with his free hand, mouth popping open as he pulls and pushes and continues to watch you - the prettiest little thing he's seen in way too long - in such a vulnerable state. He knows you're almost done, knows you can't make it last forever - even though you both want it to.

He tilts his head a bit, brows furrowed, eyes dark. He stares at your tummy and imagines the outline of his cock poking through from the other side. Would your little hole take all of him? Would it fit? Would you beg for it?

If you don't leave in the next minute he's going to fuck you.

And just as that thought crosses his mind, your pretty little stream dies out. The sound of the shower centers his world again and disappointment floods his body. Don't go. Don't leave yet. Show me that soft little pussy, please.

Much to his chagrin you carefully pull yourself up from the toilet. He watches as you flush, watches as you turn away from the shower to slowly bend over, reaching for your panties. His jaw goes slack, fist still pumping his cock as you do just what he was wishing. He can see your folds, see the little drips of liquid still clinging to your outer lips, can almost see the hint of your little clit peeking out.

He comes almost immediately, white heat gurgling onto his fist and down into the drain below as he stares at that perfect little seam, wet and dripping and begging to be fucked. He wishes he was filling it up, wishes he was painting your insides and making you squeal, holding you close with his balls pressed firm against that perfect ass.

You pull up your panties slowly, making a bit of a show of it before you're suddenly standing straight. You start to turn around, back toward the shower, and at that he lets go of the curtain and allows it to fall back into place, concealing him - and his now softening cock - from your view.

He listens as you turn on the tap, doesn't mind that the water goes a bit cold as you do - anything to get some clarity.

"I'm done now, sorry about that," he hears you say over the sound of water hitting the tiles, "I just really had to go."

"Th-that's okay," he manages to get out, voice strained and practically wrecked, "Whatever you need, sweetheart."

"You're so nice," you reply, and he can hear that you're smiling, "Enjoy your shower, Mr. Miller."

That evening, he calls for you while you and Sarah are watching a movie downstairs. Jumping at the chance to be alone with him, of course you tell Sarah not to pause it, tell her to keep watching because you've "seen it before" and you "won't be long".

It's almost like you know.

You know that when you find him upstairs he'll be standing in the bathroom, know that he'll pull you inside and close the door behind you.

"You forgot to wipe, sweetheart. Lemme show you."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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buckyseternal · 19 days

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part two to this angsty beauty - enjoy 🖤

Your head pounded when you woke up, sunlight filtering through the curtains in your shared bedroom. Well, in your bedroom now. Who knows if you’d even be able to keep the apartment – would he want to stay here or would you? He said he’d be here today to pick up his things, so maybe he was letting you keep it. Maybe you’d surprise him with an empty apartment when he came to collect his things, and you’d be long gone.

Gone, that’s where you wished you could go. What did that even mean..?

It didn’t matter.

You got up and cleaned your face, throwing on some workout clothes and stepping out into the cold air. It was winter in New York City, and everyone else was bundled up with long coats and scarves, boots and their fuzzy socks peeking up at the top. You walked the five miles to the Avengers tower in some leggings, running shoes, and a light hoodie, not even bothering to put the hood on.

You slipped into the meeting just as it was starting, taking a spot next to Natasha this time instead of your usual one. There was an empty chair next to your ex-fiancé, everyone taking notice of it but not mentioning it more than a quiet glance amongst each other. Bucky listened with intent as if nothing had happened – you stared at the small scratch in the glass table until your eyes went fuzzy.

“I know we just finished one mission up – seriously, great job, you two-” he gestured to you and Bucky. Clearly not reading the room, he continued. “Truly a dream team, you two work great together.”

You could hear Bucky huff out a sarcastic laugh and you just rolled your eyes. How he had the audacity to sit there and act like he hadn’t just shattered your entire world last night, you would never know. It’s always been fucking hard to be with you. His harsh voice rang in your ears, flashbacks from last night hitting you like a train.

“Tony, could you..?” Natasha motioned for Tony to continue with his agenda and stop lingering.

“Right.” His voice was drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears, and you could barely hear what he was saying anymore, starting to zone out again.

Natasha nudged you, and everything came back into focus.

“Solo mission, Canada. Rumlow’s back.” She whispered it over to you as indiscreetly as possible, the details that Tony had just gone over, but without all of his theatrics.

You looked over at her. Rumlow? You mouthed. She nodded her head grimly.

“I can do it. I have the most experience dealing with him-” Bucky piped up finally, acting as some sort of martyr.

“I’ll go.”

All heads turn to you, finally having spoken up and looked up from the scratch on the table.

“Are you out of your mind?” Bucky’s words sliced through the silence. You locked eyes with him and there was nothing but fury and heartbreak in yours. You could see where his hands were in fists below the table, balled up and trying to keep his composure.

You looked at Tony. “I’ll go. Rumlow doesn’t know me. Even if he had files on each of us, you know mine is sealed. I’ve only been on covert missions that didn’t deal with the public-”

“Tony, you can’t let her go on this mission!” Bucky tried to speak over you. You could tell he was getting mad.

“-and because of that, my identity has never been known. To him, I’m just a random girl. Send me. I’ll get it done.”

It was silent in the room, and you could cut the tension with a knife. But Tony had made up his mind.

“Those are all…excellent points. Meet me in 20 in my office and we’ll go over it. You leave tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes, a feeling of relief washing over you. The meeting ended and you got up to leave, managing to round the corner before you felt a grip on your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“You can’t go on that mission alone, he will kill you,” Bucky said through his gritted teeth. You tried to keep walking but his grasp on your arm was too strong. You knew you could never overpower him. “I’m going instead.”

“You know what you can fucking do-” you turned around in his arms and managed to shake out of his hold. By this time, the people who were left after the meeting were all silent and watching. You barely took note of them as you felt your vision cloud with rage.

“Hey, guys-” Steve tried to step in, tapping Bucky on the shoulder. It was no use. Your eyes brimmed with tears of rage.

“No, you go back to wherever the fuck you went last night and leave me ALONE!” you yelled at him, whipping around and starting to storm off. Before you got too far though, you turned back around and threw your engagement ring at his feet and let it clatter around the tile floors for everyone to see. “Sorry if I’m too hard for you to deal with right now, but I’m going on that mission alone and I hope that when I’m done, I can fucking stay up there away from you.”

He watched as you walked down the hallway and turned into Tony’s office, the door shutting behind you. He stood there in silence, the audience behind him in utter shock. They all began to dissipate, going in their own directions, until it was just him left.

I'll probably turn this into a multi-part fic, what do y'all think?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #mcu #mcu masterlist

520 notes · View notes

star-girl69 · 5 months

Text

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

937 notes · View notes

yourstrulynix · 1 year

Text

max, when was this? || ln4

social media!au | lando norris x actress!reader

synopsis; lando falls for someone who the internet considers way out of his league face claim; cindy kimberly

euphoria

liked by mygirly/n, ruepoo, madsbadbitch, euphoria4days and 1,344,234 others

tagged: yourusername

euphoria which rory look has been your favourite so far?

view all 4,588 comments

euphoriaconfessions i thought season one rory gave looks but this girl slayedddddd this season

y/nqueenie the first photo should be the cover photo for season 2 ep 1 because damn my queen is looking fire 🔥🖤

zendayaacc.96 I'm obsessed with her carnival look in the second pic from season 1 - i need to know where to get that top !!!

euphoria fun fact, most of the little bits like jewellery, tights and most of her shoes y/n actually owns and used them to help create rory's outfits

f1y/nforlife everyone is a y/n fan. even if they say they're not, they are a y/n fan ❤️

yourbestfriend

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, nancydaisy, mclaren and 18,321 others

tagged; mclaren, landonorris, yourusername

yourbestfriend special shoutout to mclaren for having our clueless asses

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mclaren always welcome but please educate yourselves for next time 😋

yourusername i see how it is...i wonder if ferrari would be more welcoming

landonorris how dare you mention the enemy?

yourusername just saying it how it is 💅🏽

f1girlie21 I'm sorry but what is this interaction?????

yourusername i love you boo but you're the clueless one

yourusername

liked by zendaya, dominicfike, landonorris, billieilish and 4,629,288 others

location: milan

yourusername its fw in milan...

...and i'm wearing orange for the foreseeable future 🍊

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fwupdates you looked stunning for the prada show!

zendaya my girl is 🔥

yourusername says the sexiest woman around

y/ngirlie21 why the hype around orange?

spinningy/n i wonder if it's a hint towards her rumoured collab with prada?

euphoriastyles ugh i hope they drop something soon - our girl's style is just fabbbb

landonorris

liked by yourbestfriend, max_fewtrell, neymarjr, george_russel and 745,382 others

landonorris miami

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j_corden you're an absolute gentlemen! well done with the race

carlandocontent who's the girl in the third photo??

danielricciardo wow...i rocked that look

alex_albon how very george of you both

team_quadrant

liked by riabish, luv4lando, mclaren, yourbestfriend and 88,321,101 others

team_quadrant QUADRANT LIVEFAST PERFORMANCE PRODUCTS

28.06.22

20:00 BST

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papayalove a y/n & quadrant collab! why weren't we warned????

myqueeny/n wtf i thought our girl was collabing with prada not some shitty twitch group?

roryeuphoriabuzz honestly, she is too fabulous for this

landonorris and yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername, lewishamilton, tomholland and 1,472,273 others

landonorris more photos of the LIVEFAST* by team_quadrant which is out now. this was a fun shoot 😏.

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max_fewtrell don't think i've ever seen you so attentive during any of our other shoots...

landonorris bugger off

yourusername this was fun 😚

mclarenboys anyone else getting hot 🥵😧

f1papaya the sexual tension coming off this post is ridiculous

y/nseuphoria ok seriously who is this guy???

Twitter

max_fewtrell

liked by riabish, ten_quadrant, olivernorris1, teamfewtrell and 45,138 others

max_fewtrell spent june with some great people 🇬🇧☀️

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theofficialfng i'm taking this personally mate

_aarava we see how it is

landonorris cutie

max_fewtrell dude...

theofficialfng dude.....

landonorris not you, idiot.

teamln4girl max, when was this? 🫢

fewtrellnorrisbabe not max soft launching lando's relationship

f1groupie I'm surprised neither of them let it slip sooner

side note; another part to come x

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris social media au #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #mclaren f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris drabble #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula one

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yuyusboyfriend · 9 months

Note

i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez imagine #jeong yunho #yunho drabble #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #ateez x atiny #yuyus asks ☆

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repulsiveliquidation · 7 months

Text

“I don’t need you.”

“You don’t, but we do.”

Leah Williamson x Georgia Stanway x Reader

2.8k, I went overboard lol but this was fun to write. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood and knives. Euros 2022 Final where you’re hurt and the two of them struggle to keep you alive. It gets dark so read at your own risk!

Lionesses v. Germany, Euro 2022 Final. The changing room is tense, all the girls quiet and getting into game mode. You’re in your cubby, listening to a playlist Georgia insisted would get you into the right headspace before a game. Leah sits across from you, leg bouncing and face in a deep frown. Georgia is messing about with Alessia, giggling about some video they saw on Instagram. Everyone has their own way of getting into their headspaces and you find yourself making eye contact with the best captain in the world. Your headphones come off and you walk up to her, eyes softening when you see the fear in her eyes that she so desperately tries to get rid of.

“Come with me for a minute.” You tell her, reaching for her arm.

“I can’t, the game starts in 20 minutes!” Leah loudly whispers but follows you, being dragged into the showers for a little chat.

Georgia had been watching this interaction, excusing herself and following behind Leah quietly. She knew that Leah would be stressed and knew that only you could calm her. She was met with a Leah that was almost in tears and you cradling her head against your chest in the furthest shower stall there was. She sighed softly, heart breaking for Leah. She quietly came towards you, hands wrapping around you both with kisses to both of your foreheads.

“How we doing, Lee?” Georgia asks quietly, hand slowly moving lower to rub her back as you kissed Leah softly and pushed her baby hairs out of her face.

“I feel like my hearts gonna give out. Fuck I can’t catch my breath. What if we lose? What if we just fucking throw this game away and fuck up and it’s all my fault? I really don’t know what Sarina was thinking, picking me as captain. Someone else deserves this arm band, I might just-“

She was cut off by half the team in the showers looking at her and hearing her ramble. She was so in her head that she didn’t notice that Georgia had taken your spot and you went and called the rest of the girls still in the changing rooms into the shower to comfort their captain. Tears stained her cheeks and Georgia did her best to wipe them away. You were beside her again, holding her hand and rubbing her forearm.

“No one would have been able to bring us this far, Lee. Everyone on this team knows you’re the only one who deserves to wear that arm band.” Lucy spoke up, all the girls nodding in agreement.

“You’re the best part of all of us, Leah. Come on, we’ve got a trophy to win alright? Save some of those tears for after will ya? Don’t waste them!” Ella yelled, all the girls cheering their captain on as she finally had a smile on her face. It was the most beautiful smile both you and Georgia had ever seen and you wanted to keep it on her face for as long as possible.

Kick-off

The game was going alright. Germany had maintained good defense over the first half, nearly scoring but Mary Earps was a force to be reckoned with. The second half saw Tooney thrust the Lionesses into the lead with a beautiful chip over the keeper. Germany doubled down and equalized ten minutes after, the wear and tear of the tournament finally showing as the Lionesses let that one slip. Of course, it had to be Chloe Kelly who sent in the winning goal, doing a well-earned shirtless celebration as the final whistle was blown two minutes later. You all piled on top of her, celebrations rampant as the Wembley stadium erupted with the same shouts of celebrations.

You didn’t see him coming. You didn’t see the glint of a 4-inch blade drawn from his back pocket. Security too busy holding out other fans from spilling onto the pitch. He made a beeline for you, eyes dark and angry. He grabbed you by the shoulder and before you knew it, the knife stabbed into the right side of your abdomen. The sheer shock of it all sent you to the ground hunched over, hand pressed to your side as he pulled the knife out and disappeared into the crowd.

Leah notices first. Her eyes looked all over for you till she heard yells from the crowd of your name. A little puddle of red alarmed her as she suddenly saw you laying on the grass in a pool of your own blood.

“Y/N!” she yelled. Crouching down beside you, holding your wound. “FUCKING CALL THE MEDICS!” was what registered next. Georgia suddenly appeared beside you; hand pressed over Leah’s as they both tried to stop the bleeding. The crowd was so silent you could hear a straw drop.

“You’re going to be okay, darling. I need you to stay awake for me, sweet. Keep looking at me baby, shh shh it’s okay. We’re getting you help.” Georgia spoke but she sounded so far away. Your eyes closed for a second before Leah slapped your face gently and your eyes opened again. She was crying, Georgia was too. “Stay with me, love. I love you so much,” was the last thing you heard before you couldn’t fight the urge to sleep any longer.

That beeping noise was immensely irritating. Beep, beep, beep. Why were there so many tubes and shit tangled around me? It’s a little chilly in here, would it kill you to turn the heat on? I mean seriously, these tubes are a nightmare. Your thoughts are interrupted by a pair of blue eyes that would make anyone look twice. Leah’s eyes. You could pick them out in a crowd. So blue and so full of emotion you could read her like an open book. What was she doing here?

“Y/N/N, welcome back my darling.” Leah says, her voice still distant but clear.

“She’s awake? Don’t lie to me Leah, it’s not funny.” A second voice enters the room. It’s familiar too, accent thick with worry. Georgia’s dark brown eyes show themselves as they both hover over you. It’s nice, they’re doing you a favor by blocking out those pesky bright lights.

There are suddenly more people in the room than you’d like, poking and prodding at you. Hands that you do not want touching you thankfully do their work fast and efficiently. They switch out your oxygen mask for tubes and give you another pillow and your sad hospital lunch. They’ve left the room in 20 minutes, the two girls whom you want near you finally able to settle on either side of your bed away from prying eyes.

“You scared us half to death, Y/N.” Leah says with a sad voice you never want her to use again. Tears well up in Georgia’s eyes and they both hold your hand that is resting on your stomach.

“What happened? I-I can’t remember it that well, it’s all so hazy.” You say with a sore throat. Georgia is quick to give you some water, holding the straw for you to sip. You drink for a while, thankful for the cold liquid soothing your parched throat.

Leah’s eyes are uncertain, doubtful if she wants to make you relive yesterday morning. The stabbing had sent you into a deep sleep, thankfully only for a day. The ambulance that brought you here was at the pitch within two minutes of the call to 999. The two girls never left your side, Georgia following you into the ambulance as Leah was driven right behind the ambulance by Alessia and the rest of the girls. The win was forgotten, every single one of them only had you on their minds. Leah was a mess in the car, shaking like a leaf as Alessia sped after the ambulance. Tooney and Lucy held her, keeping her calm and reassuring her that you’d be alright. She believed them, telling herself over and over on the quick ride to the hospital that you’d be okay.

Georgia kept it together in the ambulance, one of the loves of her life holding on as much as she could. It was so hard to look at you in the stretcher, beautiful face pale and sickly. Her hands and shirt were covered in your blood, the paramedics managing to stuff your wound with gauze and the bleeding was controlled. She knew you’d be okay, her heart hoping Leah knew that too. She held onto your hand tightly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fell in and out of consciousness. She recognized the white Mercedes weaving through traffic, hazards on and following the speeding ambulance. She told you that the girls were right behind us and that Leah was right there with them. She told you to hold on, she told you they didn’t know if they’d be able to live without you. You heard her, wanting so much to hold her and tell her that you loved her and that you would be okay but, everything hurt and you were too numb to move.

The doctors worked swiftly on your wounds, the knife barely missing your diaphragm and nicking your large intestine. You had lost too much blood and flatlined once, the doctors quick to pounce on your chest and resuscitate you. You were fighting, you knew people relied on you too much for you to give in. The five-hour surgery was a success and soon you were being wheeled into a private room as the doctors told the entire team occupying the waiting room the relieving news. There wasn’t a dry face anywhere, tears of joys pouring out at the news of you making it through the hardest part of this long journey. Leah and Georgia rushed to the room they now knew you were in, the rest of the girls hanging back knowing you only needed them.

The sight of all those annoying tubes broke their hearts. You looked so tired and used, fresh tears falling down their faces. Both girls silently moved to one side each, hands reaching for your cold ones as you slept peacefully. Soon the repetitive beeps of the machines lulled them to sleep, thankful that you were alive and here with them.

Lucy walked in with Alessia and Kiera. They smiled softly at the sight of the three of you sleeping. They gently woke Leah and Georgia, having brought food and a change of clothes for them. The doctors updated them on your condition, Kiera shooting a quick text to the group chat to ease their worries. Leah shot up, eyes red with fatigue and a stiff neck. She reached for Kiera, hugging her tight and thanking her for the food and clothes. Alessia gently helped Georgia wake up, guiding both of them to the table in your room to have some food. They found it hard to swallow anything but tried, knowing they needed to. Alessia and Lucy watched over you as they ate, Less softly brushing your hair out of your face as Lucy rubbed your forearm softly.

Kiera had to force the pair out of the room to change, dragging them away to the showers to force them to take one, their hands still slightly caked with your blood. They showered together, helping one another to clean up which made them feel better to have familiar hands do the work. They couldn’t do it for themselves but they’d be damned if they didn’t take care of the other before themselves. Leah held Georgia’s face in her hands and Georgia stared at her as her hands held her wrists, gaze holding the same tear-filled eyes she had despite standing under the rain shower. They kissed hard, kisses full of too many emotions for them to express any other way. “She’ll be okay, Gee. She’s a fighter, she is.” Leah said softly, willing her heart to believe her own words. Georgia could only nod, muttering a soft “I know,” before leaning in to kiss Leah again. They held each other under the warm water, Kiera having left to give them both a minute.

They walk back into your room looking fresher than before. Hair both damp and wearing clean clothes. They both needed that shower and intimate time with each other, it soothed worries that they did not know how to voice; so glad that their relationship was strong and deep enough that they did not need to use words to express their feelings. “Any changes?” Georgia asks, moving to the couch to snuggle with Alessia as Leah returned to your side. “No Gee, she’s still asleep.” Lucy told her, hand lacing into Leah’s as they both sat with you. Kiera walked in 10 minutes later with steaming cups of coffee and a few more Lionesses. They all hung around, speaking to each other and taking turns watching you. You made noises a few times, shifting in your deep drug-induced sleep which made Leah and Georgia’s hearts leap out of their chests as you merely went back under.

“I’m sorry I scared you girls.” You say after listening to Leah and Georgia fill you in. “I’m okay now, you two look exhausted.”

“Don’t be sorry darling, nothing compared to the day you’ve had, love. They say you can go home tomorrow now that you’re awake, hm?” Leah tells you, eyes happier than you’ve seen in the past two days. Georgia begins to open up your lunch, gently pushing the table over to you to eat. “The girls went over to the house and set up the guest room for us. That way you don’t need to worry about the stairs. Lotte’s got Marlo too so he isn’t a bother for a bit. I think Less and Tooney drove my car over too so we can go home tomorrow, how’s that sound?” Georgia tells you, grimacing at the sickly-looking hospital food.

“Better than that looks, that’s for sure.” You quip, a look of disgust on your face.

This makes Leah laugh, leaning forward and kissing your forehead then whispering “There’s my girl.”

The first week back home was unlike anything you have experienced before. The pain was unbearable and the nightmares were something you didn’t wish on your worst enemy. You couldn’t remember your attackers face, but the news refreshed your memory when he was caught just four days after the attack. Cameras from the stadium managed to pick him up leaving the stadium after and they found his car abandoned before he was arrested and convicted. The three of you felt relief wash over you, knowing he was gone from your lives for a long time. You naively thought the nightmares would stop since you were really just worrying about him finding you but they somehow got worse. Leah and Georgia could barely keep you asleep for an hour before you had another one, shaking and sweating with shouts of their names. It frustrated you and broke their hearts into a billion pieces each. Both of them wanted to take your pain away and it physically hurt them to see you suffering.

One night you had another nightmare but somehow didn’t stir the two girls sleeping on either side of you. You carefully crawled out of bed, grabbing a fluffy blanket around your shoulders and walking out to the living room. You sat on the couch, mind racing faster than you liked. You began to rock back and forth, knees pulled to your chest. You couldn’t catch your breath, head spinning as the memories flash before your eyes.

Strong arms suddenly wrap around you, another pair grabbing your crying face. “Y/N, look at me!” Leah said loudly. A wave of anger came over you, pushing both of them away and standing; hot, frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks. “Leave me alone! Why the fuck are you always meddling? I don’t need you to coddle me! I am capable of taking care of myself! I’m not fucking helpless like you think! Just because you don’t have pain or just because you can fucking sleep doesn’t mean you need to pretend to want to help me! I DON’T NEED YOU!” you yell, voice hoarse by the fourth statement you make. You’ve fallen to your knees, Georgia catching you just in time before you crumple to the ground. They both hold you, your frustration let out in huge waves. You cried for half an hour, hearing both of them repeating the same thought you had in the operating room that kept you fighting “You may think you don’t need us baby but we do. We were both a mess when you got hurt, I don’t think either of us would have survived if it wasn’t for you. You hold us together baby, we love you to bits for it, you’re our special girl.”

It made you cry more, their words sinking into your head. You were wrong, you did need them. You needed them more than ever and they weren’t going anywhere.

#woso soccer #woso imagine #lionesses #leahwilliamson x reader #georgia stanway x reader #leah williamson #georgia stanway #georgia stanway imagine #leah williamson imagine #euros2022 #angst #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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lev1hei1chou · 8 months

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Why i believe Gojo could come back

This chapter left us in a devastated state and was absolutely uncalled for, but I personally believe this isnt the end of the strongest sorcerer. There are several reasons as to why (These are just opinions, I could be wrong in certain areas AND personal feelings might make an occassional appearance.)

LEAKS:

This whole panel was obviously made for a reason. And we dont see gojo making a decision. Considering the fact that this is literally THE Gojo Satoru, he's more likely to choose north since there's numerous things left as plot holes. We'll get to that.

Here in this page, he mentions that Toji should've cut his head off to actually kill him. In the leaks, whats cut off is his upper body but not the head! I still can't quite wrap my head around RCT but lets say he's not able to heal himself. You know who can and who would? Yuta and Shoko

Now moving on

"Gojo then bids farewell to everyone." If hes truly gone then why would he be bidding farewell to the fallen comrades? If he's dead then isn't he supposed to stay in the afterlife with them?

Pretty self explanatory

What if Kashimo is going in to distract Sukuna while Shoko and Yuta can heal Gojo?

Now think about this. Gojo is gone, Shoko doesnt fight and who are all left? A bunch of sorcerers who are literally under 20, need guidance and we havent really seen any panel where they actually plan how they're going to go about in the whole battle. Gojo isnt a want, hes a NEED, a NECESSITY.

Remember, Toji who was dead long ago pretty much appeared out of nowhere in Shibuya Arc LMAO so- yes

WHAT IS THIS EVEN SUPPOSED TO MEAN

Theres no way Gojo would be left sealed for 3 whole years, brought him back just to kill him off in the most disrespectful way possible.

Besides, things that Gojo wanted to do haven't happened yet.

He wanted to tell megumi about his father

He wanted to see his students surpass the strongest sorcerer, aka him

He wanted to get rid of the higher ups

He wanted to properly mourn suguru (for which kenjaku has to be defeated but oh well)

He wanted to save Megumi

How'd we know what Gojo said here.

On to the other aspects of why killing off Gojo was a bad idea. We barely ever saw what happened to him, and an off screen death to the so called strongest sorcerer is just senseless. Gojo is a fan favourite. People started watching the show for Gojo (myself included) and there's a high possibility of multiple people dropping the manga since he isn't even there anymore.

The ending could take a turn for the worse considering the fact that Sukuna is just overpowered and Kenjaku hasn't done anything as of now. Unless there's some heavy plot armor I dont think the students even stand a chance against Sukuna and Kenjaku. Both outcomes- the students and others emerging as victors or sukuna emerging as a victor could make the ending absolutely terrible and this might as well top AOT for being the manga with the most disliked ending.

Gojo Satoru is the mentor for multiple; for Yuji, Nobara, Megumi, Yuta, Maki, Panda, Toge and the third years and its necessary for them to have someone to teach them. It is one of Satoru's wishes to see his students surpass him, which can happen only when he's there since there's nobody else who is actually capable of teaching them and leading them into the world as actual graduated sorcerers.

So Gojo dying will make the manga take a turn for the worse. Killing him off in the middle makes absolutely no sense and is just plain bad writing. People are prolly gonna kill me for this but lets admit the truth. Hyping this battle, building up tension just to finish him off screen is NOT good writing.

Anyways. There is factual proof of Gojo potentially making a return. Maybe at a cost, like him losing his power, losing his "strongest" title or anything else. He may not even be the same anymore but honestly as long as he's back, I'm fine.

It happened previously, and could happen again.

Satoru Gojo may not be the strongest and the honoured one, but may be reborn as a newer version of himself after getting humbled. Lotuses, as mentioned above symbolise rebirth, which is why i believe this is not the end.

A small bit of advice for gojo fans: Go watch haikyuu or highschool babysitters as a form of self care <3

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propertyofkirishima · 7 months

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Cookies and Milk

Kirishima x Chubby!Reader

a/n: this is quite possibly the sluttiest thing i’ve ever wrote. reader and kiri are in college. includes: daddy kink, size kink, manhandling, some descriptions of chubby reader, etc.

also i hate spell checking so i didn’t <3

did kirishima even realize what his snapchats did to you?

you crossed your legs, squeezing together as to relieve pressure down there. you put on a brave smile, looking up into your camera. the perfect angle of your boobs and your thighs.

kirishima was in the gym like always. every day, at 8 pm, he would hit the gym with his friend bakugou. you and bakugou weren’t that close, as kirishima was the only object of your affection. you didn’t care for any other men because of how obsessed you were with kiri.

wow kiri! have your muscles gotten bigger?

you giggled as you typed out your response, hitting send after you looked over the photo. it was perfect. you weren’t stupid. you knew kirishima wanted you. and he always watched your thighs and tits, whether he realized it or not. sometimes he would subconsciously squeeze your thigh. you knew he was obsessed too.

kirishima was out of breath, panting at the machine. he had just finished another set of his lift routine. opening his snapchat, he saw your notification. no one else mattered on there but you. in fact, everyone had been left on delivered for 20 hours.

kirishima chuckled as he read your text. he smiled, flexing for the camera. his biceps were absolutely massive, practically bulging out of his skin tight black shirt. oh, not to mention your favorite kiri hairstyle: the man bun with his red bangs sticking to his forehead. he was everything you wanted and more.

you impatiently waited for his text. he was so hot and you were too horny to not stare at pictures of him sweaty. you felt yourself getting wetter as you imagined him in all different ways.

ding!

finally, his text! you squealed with delight, flopping back on your bed.

kiri baby ❤️ maybe! gotta make sure i can lift at least 3 of you ;)

you giggled, twisting your hair. kirishima knew you were insecure of yourself, but always had the perfect thing to say. he could easily lift you. slam you. hold you up against the wall.

3 of me? how much are you lifting?!

kirishima instantly opened your message. after all, this was the break in his set. there was nothing more he wanted to do than come over. he wanted to show you how strong he was. he had been wanting to show you for months. he stared at the snapstreak of 105 days. it was enough time, right? you had to like him at this point!

kiri baby ❤️ not sure how much u weigh, but i’m lifting 600

600?! you blinked. holy fuck. it did make sense, as he had been training since he was young. kirishima is the most built man you know.

you quickly snapped a photo of your head back on the pillow, with your boobs nearly spilling out of your tank top.

600?!?! it would be easy to lift me o_O

kirishima opened your snap, then replayed it. he sighed, trying not to get hard in public. his brain was full of horny thoughts as he stared at your boobs. kirishima was craving you tonight, and he wasn’t sure why. normally he can suppress his urges, but this time he needs you. so bad. he needed to play it cool though. after all, you two were friends.

kiri baby ❤️ i know :) what are you up to tonight?

you began to reply quickly. you didn’t know how much longer his break was, and you wanted to see him badly. sometimes you guys would link up after he goes to the gym. you would study together or just grab a late night snack. kirishima always wanted to feed you because he loved taking care of you.

nothing much! got most of my shit done.

kirishima knew he was almost done with his workout. he sat up, and grabbed his water bottle.

“oi, kirishima! what are you doing?!” bakugou piped up

“sorry bro, y/n is really distracting me tonight!”

bakugou rolled his eyes. “yeah shitty hair! she distracts you every night! do you want her to start coming and watching you?!”

katsuki shook his head. “not cool, bakugou.”

“yeah, whatever! i know you guys are gonna hang out after. that’s why you were snapping her!”

kirishima rolled his eyes. bakugou wasn’t even worth the response right now. kiri snapped a quick picture of his feet and water bottle.

kiri baby ❤️ i’m gonna be done in an hour. wanna get a snack?

you giggled with delight. you loved seeing kirishima whenever you could.

of course i wanna get a snack ^_^ i’m so excited!

kirishima smiled at his phone. you were the cutest creature known to man.

kiri baby ❤️ okay beautiful! i’ll be at your dorm at 10

you set down your phone and immediately hopped off your bed. your roomie perked up, looking over at you.

“kirishima?” she asked

“yep!” you smiled. “need to get ready for him!”

she shook her head. “he doesn’t care what you look like. we’ve seen the way he stares at you, y/n”

“ohhh, but i love getting ready! it makes it more fun. kirishima needs to know how hot i am!”

you giggled, sitting at your vanity. you turned the bright white lights on and opened your makeup bag. you decided on a natural look, but still wanted to look glowy and flawless.

after your makeup, you put on a mini skirt and cropped sweatshirt with your college logo. a little to tease, but not too much skin showing. you quickly gathered essentials in your purse and threw on some thigh highs and sneakers.

“what do you think?!” you asked your roomie

“beautiful as always!” she replied

“yay!” you exclaimed

you opened your phone to see kiri had texted you that he was on his way. “gotta go!”

“stay safe!” she said

you slammed the door shut behind you and giggled. you loved seeing kiri. it was your favorite part of every week. you rushed down the stairs, panting and breathless by the time you got to the lobby.

opening the doors, you saw kirishima standing by the entrance. you smiled and waved as soon as he noticed you.

kirishima’s hair was still wet from his shower. but now he wore loose fitting gray sweatpants and a black tank top. his gym bag was with bakugou, who begrudgingly allowed him to leave it with him.

kirishima opened his arms for a hug, which you bounded into. you put your face near his heart and breathed in the clean smells. burying your head, you nudged him like a little dog.

“hi pretty girl. where are we going tonight?” he asked

you wrapped your arms around him, staring up into his eyes. kirishima was so perfect. “i dunno!”

kirishima chuckled. “cookies and then we can go back to my place?”

you finally let go, only to grab onto his arm. you were a little clingy, but he didn’t mind. he loved being your big protector.

“yay! let’s do it!”

kirishima loved your enthusiasm. he loved the size difference too. i mean after all, he was a big man. not only were his biceps the size of your face nearly, but he was also over 6’4. you were lucky to have caught his attention after years of him being your campus crush. when you’d see him, he’d smile at you, and you’d smile back.

it wasn’t until a party that the two of you met. you were a champion in beer pong. so much that a photo of you hangs in some frat on campus to signify who the champion of the year is. unfortunately, kirishima was paired against you. he lost to you and your unhinged roomie.

but he didn’t care. he loved watching you win. the way you jumped up and down and giggled. after the game was over, the two of you went outside to talk on a shitty couch. you couldn’t imagine the things that were done on it, so you tried not to think at all.

admittedly, you were tipsy. and so was kirishima.

“you’re cute.” he says

“thank you!” you replied back, too scared to admit he was your campus crush. “you aren’t so bad yourself…but you suck at beer pong!”

kirishima smiled at the memory. the two of you walked through the desolate campus, under the moonlit sky. there was no better way to spend his nights than by your side.

“how was the gym kiri?” you ask politely

“it was great. you know, we should work out sometime together!” he says

you raised your eyebrows. “i don’t lift, i do my pilates and treadmill workout. and plus your bakubro is a bakuasshole.”

kirishima laughed. “you’re so sassy, y/n!”

“yeah i am. always have been always will be.” you crossed your arms at him.

kirishima shook his head. “oh c’mon pretty girl. you know you wanna hold my arm.”

“yeah, i do.” you smiled, grabbing back onto him. “i like walking with you like this.”

the two of you arrived at the cookie place. they already knew exactly what you wanted. you and kirishima would always order the same box of cookies, as it was directly across from his dorm.

you rushed back into his room so you could eat the cookies while they were still hot. kirishima got out cups and milk from his mini fridge. you turned on the tv and got comfy below the blankets in his bed. as he turned around, kirishima only fell more in love with you.

his cute little girl, all bundled up. kirishima smiled and set down your drinks and cookies on the table beside his bed. he sat next to you, caressing your head and hair.

“i wish we could have a sleepover.” he admits

you smiled and leaned into his touch. “me too, kiri baby.”

you sat up and gestured for cookies. kiri smiled and opened the box and handed you your favorite. you leaned your head on his shoulder and turned up the tv.

you and kirishima mindlessly watched the tv and finished your cookies. once they were done, you stood up and cleared everything away. kirishima watched you bend over to put the milk back and saw your panties.

fuck.

he couldn’t turn away from it. they were just so adorable. silk and pink.

you turned around, putting your hand on your hip. “kiri, are you staring at me?”

“no!” he exclaimed, ashamed of his horny thoughts. “i wouldn’t do that!”

you giggled. “mhm.”

kirishima’s face burned hot. you got back into bed with him, cuddling into his side. he was hot to the touch. it nearly made you break out into a sweat.

“kiri, you’re so warm. you should take your shirt off.”

you giggled up at him as his face morphed into shock. he blinked down at you. “seriously?”

“yeah, duh!” you exclaimed.

you felt rather bold tonight. you climbed up on his lap and pulled at the ends of his shirt. “i wanna see. can you show me kiri?”

you pouted at him. kirishima was already hard. you could feel him against your thigh. you made sure not to sit directly on top of him.

“princess, you’re crazy.” he replied. “but i always give you what you want, don’t i?”

“that’s why i’m your princess, stupid.”

“you wanna help me take it off?” he asked

the two of you gazed into each others eyes. an uncontrollable cloud of lust shrouded you. your hands gripped the ends of his shirt. he watched as you pulled carefully and slowly.

what you revealed was the body of an olympian god. you nearly foamed at the mouth as you saw what he had to offer. his v-line was so prominent. and his little happy trail. you had never been so horny in your life.

“k-kiri…i can’t hold myself back anymore,” you whined. “you were so mean at the gym today.”

kiri pretended to pout at you and ran his thumb down your cheek. “you poor princess,”

you were so desperate for dick. your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing. you needed something- anything.

“please don’t tease me anymore kiri, i really wanna feel you!” you whined

“well then pretty girl, you’re gonna need to leave those panties with me.” he said. “and take off that skirt.”

you swiftly got up from the bed and turned around to change. you bent over, giving him the perfect view of your ass. he watched as you dragged your panties down, exposing your pussy lips. kirishima audibly groaned, touching his dick through his pants.

his heart raced as you unbuttoned your skirt. it fell from your legs, opening a whole new world for kiri to see. your pretty, supple thighs. you held onto your panties, turning around to look at him.

“k-kiri, i feel embarrassed!” you whined. “i don’t really like showing anyone my body like this…”

kirishima smiled, grabbing your hips. he sat you back down where you were before. “you’re my princess. my perfect little princess. and i wouldn’t have you any other way. now hand me those panties.”

you held out your hand for him. he held them up to his nose, sniffing while his eyes rolled back. “mm fuck, gonna need to taste that.”

he put the panties on his bedside table. you had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting those back.

“kiri, that was so pervy of you!”

“god i know, but that’s just what you do to me, princess. i turn into a fucking weirdo for you. i’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

he inhaled deeply, gripping at your hips. you already stained his sweatpants. he could smell you in the air and feel your wetness seep through.

“like fuck, i need you to grind on me before i do something crazy.” he admitted. “i just get all these uncontrollable urges with you.”

you scooted up on his pants and to his dick. “i do too kiri. i think we just need to fuck it all out. i have the most nastiest thoughts of you humanly possible.”

you grinded against him. he grunted as he felt your pussy lips drag up and down.

“i’m so glad we are finally being honest, princess. i can’t control my feelings for you anymore. i fuckin love teasing you at the gym. i just love thinking about how horny you get baby.”

you whined in his ear as you found the perfect spot. kiri had his hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth. the two of you dry humped each other, and it was disgustingly amazing.

“no no kiri, you don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “when you send me pictures in the gym i get fucking sinful.”

kirishima chuckled. “yeah pretty princess? what do you think about?”

you cried out as he jerked into you. you pulled his sweatpants down so as to be able to grind on him directly. it felt so much better. the two of you moaned as you hit each others spots.

“fuck, what do i not think about?! you’re so big and strong kiri. i just need you to throw me around and fuck me until i can’t think.”

“why didn’t you just say so?”

kirishima flipped you over so that you were below him. he took off his sweatpants and pinned your arms on his headboard. you cried out as he gripped your wrists.

“like this princess? you wanna be treated like this?” he asked

you nodded your head quickly. “y-yes kiri!”

he dragged you up so that he could take your hoodie off. ripping the material from your skin, he had no mercy for you. he slammed you back down on the bed, so much so that it shook. you moaned, loving being manhandled.

“fuck princess, we coulda been doin this every night if you were just a little more honest with me.”

“god i really regret it kiri! you don’t know how bad i need this every week and every night.”

kirishima chuckled. he loved looking at your naked body, fully presented just for him. he ran his hands from your stomach to your thighs.

“need what, pretty girl?”

you wanted to scream. you grabbed his hands. “need something inside, kiri! please!”

oh fuck. you were so desperate. kiri thought it was adorable how you tried to assert dominance. it was so easy for him to overpower you. he was charmed by the way you held his wrists, thinking you could stop him.

“yeah baby? your poor fuckin thing. this pussy must be crying for me. need me to feel those wet insides, precious?”

you put your legs up so that they rested on his shoulders. kiri inhaled the strong scent of pussy, as it was much closer to his face. he looked down to see that his bed was covered in your juices.

“fuckin hell, princess. look what you did to my bed.”

but you didn’t want to look. you wanted kiri to finger you or shove his dick inside.

“i’m sorry kiri! i’m really sorry! i’ll help you clean up, i promise!”

kiri had so much control over you. his fingers crept up your thigh slowly. he began to touch your lips. you cried out. he was going so slow.

“i know you will, my perfect little princess. but you wanna do something else right now, don’t you? you need me inside you, right?”

you nearly screamed as he finally inserted one finger.

“daddy! daddy i need more!”

daddy? kirishima was gonna have a hard time controlling himself. “you like calling me daddy? fuck princess, you really are so dirty.”

he rammed his finger inside, up to your guts. you were screaming with just one. he couldn’t imagine more than three inside.

“yes daddy! i’m a dirty girl! please, please, i need another so bad!”

kirishima gave you what he want. he always did and always will. adding another finger, you only got wetter. he could hear your pussy as he went in and out. his whole hand was covered in it, and he could feel it drip down his arm.

“fuck princess, you’re so fuckin wet for daddy. listen to you, pathetic little girl. you hear how wet that pussy is? those little moans and whines? well shit, who are we kidding. you’re screaming on my fingers!”

your mouth was open, slack jawed. it felt so good. you could hardly focus on anything else. kirishima humiliated you in the sweetest way possible. he only made things worse.

“i’m sorry for being a messy girl daddy! i’m sorry i’m so loud!”

kirishima loved making you embarrassed. your cheeks were red, with little tears building up in your eyes. you opened your eyes, watching kirishima’s face of focus as he rammed into you.

“it’s okay perfect princess. you need to feel good, don’t you? i know how mean i was, teasing you like that in the gym.”

“so mean daddy!” tears broke free from your eyes. you were lost in this world of lust. there was nothing you could do but feel it out. you were completely gone. not thinking of future consequences nor the embarrassment of yourself.

“god it’s all worth it. all these months.” he sighed

you cried even more as he added another finger. he was splitting you open one by one. “i need more daddy! i need your cock, please! fingers aren’t enough!”

“no baby, they aren’t are they? you need daddy’s dick in that wet pussy, don’t you? don’t worry little one, i’ll fuckin ruin that pussy.“

kirishima finally took off his boxers. you gasped at the size. it was so big. you almost weren’t sure you’d be able to take it.

“please be gentle sir!”

“oh my precious princess, how sweet you cry.”

he slowly put his bulbous head inside. you moaned with delight, grabbing onto his arm. kirishima took that as a sign to keep pushing in. slowly, you were filled to the brim with his cock. you felt his tip poke your insides, moaning at the feeling.

“please daddy, please fuck me!”

kirishima nearly lost all control with the first stroke. in out in out. he tried to stay calm, but you only pushed back into him. you wanted it hard and fast, he could tell.

“not hard enough! need it sooo hard!!”

you were absolutely delirious. you closed your eyes and left your mouth open wide. kirishima watched saliva spill out as he fucked into you harder.

“yeah daddy! yeah! just like that!”

he gripped your legs, shoving his cock into your pussy. he abused your g-spot and made you scream.

“you’re only gonna want my cock coz of how good i fuck you. gonna be obsessed with me and need this cock.”

you nodded your head, focusing on how fast his pace was.

“gonna do that homework and sit on this cock. rock back and forth on those shit chairs and break em just for more of my dick.”

you giggled as he kept going. your tongue lolled out of your moth as you lost control of all senses. all you could think about was his cock. and he was right, you’d break a chair just for a good fuck.

“gonna be at the gym, sitting on this cock as i work out. riding up and down without a care of who sees. i’ll fuckin ruin all your gym clothes with cum and rip those leggings.”

“oh my god daddy!” you screamed, gripping his shoulders. he was so hot, imaging everything out loud.

“gonna be in the shower, with you still on my cock. bent over on the floor so i can fuck into your pussy.”

“yes daddy! i wanna get fucked everywhere sir!”

“gonna need it all the time, always clinging to me, right princess?”

kirishima loved that pathetic face. your makeup was absolutely ruined. tears and saliva went down your face, to your neck, then the bed. it was a mix of mascara, spit, pussy, and your adorable cries. your mouth was wide open, finally opening your eyes.

“yes daddy! i‘ll be like your personal fuck doll!”

kirishima chuckled. he smacked you on your ass. you screamed and pushed up into his cock again. you could only feel the slam of his dick, no other feelings but that.

“yeah you fuckin will, perfect princess. you’ll be a little toy for daddy, won’t ya?”

“uh huh! yes sir!” you agreed

you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. kirishima watched your face contort into ecstasy. he only felt himself get closer.

“daddy! i’m cumming!”

you rode your high, screaming as he finished inside. you couldn’t even care as you watched the cum drip down your thighs, leaking out onto the bed. he still kept himself inside, buried as much as possible.

kirishima collapsed on top of you, sweat sticking to both of your bodies. “fuck y/n! i’m so sorry for cumming inside- i didn’t even ask-“

“no, it’s okay. don’t even worry your big head about that.” you said softly

“you sure?” he replied

“mhm, you can stay inside pretty boy.”

kirishima laid his head on your boobs. he squished them closer to his mouth, kissing them. you giggled as he buried himself between your tits.

“my little baby.” you teased softly. “not so big and strong anymore, huh?”

kiri didn’t even care in the slightest. he loved squishy cuddles from you. “i love boobies.”

you absolutely giggled. “kiri! you’re a bad boy!”

kiri squished your tits so that they would touch each cheek. “mmmf…don’t care. you are my squishy girlfriend.”

“girlfriend, huh?” you beamed

kiri kissed your forehead. “of course princess. we just fucked like literal animals.”

the two of you giggled, slowing your breathing and relaxing. the movie from earlier was still playing, causing you to feel extra drowsy.

“kiri, i’m sleepy.” you said softly

“that’s okay baby, the RA owes me a favor. you close those pretty eyes.”

you smiled, still feeling his dick twitch inside. you knew tomorrow was gonna be just as good as the night. “okie kiri…”

kiri watched you drift to sleep, kissing you softly all around your face. he was so lucky to have someone as beautiful as you.

“goodnight precious girl.”

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima smut #kirishima fluff #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x reader smut #kirishima x y/n smut #college kirishima #mha college au #bnha college au

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strawberrysnoopy · 2 months

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ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four

prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,

author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!

The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.

"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.

Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.

“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.

“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.

“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”

He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."

"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.

Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.

tags:@heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat, @ressespearlz, @xqlenkdy, @g0rep1ty, @nomorekerkanymor,

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steddieasitgoes · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 20 Prompt: Sick Day

Tags: Established Relationship, Mentions Of Past Parental Loss, Eddie Munson Needs A Hug, Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 1290 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve doesn’t get it.

He’s seen Eddie in worse shape.

Death knocking on his door, tubes, and machines keeping him alive. In spite of the shitty cards he was dealt, he always had a smile on his face — cracking jokes with the kids, charming his way into extra pudding cups and sides of mashed potatoes. Steve’s pretty sure they mourned the day he was finally released because he had a way of making even the crabbiest doctors smile.

If ever there was a time to be miserable and wallow in the pain it was then.

And yet, a winter cold has managed to knock Eddie on his ass, turning him into the most miserable, helpless version of himself.

Steve hates it.

Not because Eddie is whiney and dramatic (he’s both of those things on a good day), but because he doesn’t know what to do to help.

Days and nights blend together as Eddie stays sheltered in his bedroom. His bed is a nest of blankets and pillows — half the time he’s burrowed under them, no doubt making his fever worse, and the other half he’s propped up on pillows, desperately hoping the elevated position will ease his cough. A hoard of half-empty bowls of soups and napkins full of nibbled-on crackers are scattered on his nightstand along with the cold medicine Wayne picked up three (maybe, four?) days ago. The one Eddie refuses to take because it makes him feel worse.

His usual unruly curls are flattening by the second and his cheek has a near-permanent indentation of his wrinkled pillowcase at this point. If it weren’t for his frequent trips to the bathroom, Steve would be worried about muscle loss and blood clots on top of the hundred other ways he’s worrying about Eddie right now.

Steve’s tried everything. His grandmother’s chicken noodle soup, coaxing Eddie into a warm shower, even phoned Ms. Henderson to see if she had any home remedies he wasn’t thinking of. Nothing seems to be working.

At a loss, Steve tiptoes into Eddie’s room hoping to find him sleeping beneath the covers.

He’s not.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve coos. Toeing his shoes off, he pads his way over to the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the corner of the bed in search of Eddie’s legs. When he’s certain they’re not there, he sits. “What can I do to help?”

Eddie groans and presses the right side of his face deeper into the pillow. A single tear races down his cheek as he sniffles. “Could you just lie with me?” he croaks, voice horse from lack of use and the sore throat he’s been fighting for the last few days.

“Course, baby. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer and instead shuffles up the bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he kicks out his legs over the hoard of blankets and lets himself sink into the warm mattress. Once he’s situated, Eddie shifts until his back is pressed against Steve’s side. It’s weird feeling the heat that radiates from his body — he’s usually the one with cold hands and feet in the relationship.

“Didn’t want to get you sick,” Eddie mumbles eventually.

“Don’t mind getting sick, if it means you’ll feel better.” Steve means it. He would shoulder all the sickness and pain in the world if it meant that Eddie and everyone else he loves never had to feel anything but happy and healthy. If only the world worked like that. “Do you need anything?”

It’s silent in the room as Steve waits for Eddie’s response. So quiet, Steve wonders if maybe Eddie’s drifted to sleep and he’s waiting for a response that’s never going to come. But then Eddie shifts beside him, slowly rolling onto his other side so he can face him.

“I need my mom,” Eddie whispers just as the floodgates open, tear after tear falling from his eyes in that slow dramatic way they only do in movies. At least, Steve thought it only happened in movies.

His heart seizes in his chest as Eddie reaches for the soft sweater he’s wearing. Doesn’t complain when he buries his face into it, staining it with tears and snot and whatever else as Eddie’s body shakes under the weight of his tears.

Christ.

He doesn’t get it, not entirely. His own mother was never the nurturing type — she’d slap down medicine on his bedside table and leave a list of places she’d be if he needed to reach her, but that was it. Never once did she rest her hand against his forehead to check his temperature, let alone sit at his bedside.

But he knows Eddie’s mom would have done those things. Probably did do all those things judging by the way his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms right now.

Admittedly he doesn’t know much about Ms. Munson — he’s gathered it's hard for Eddie to talk about her. But he knows enough to know the world lost an incredibly kind soul way too early.

“Eds,” Steve sighs, scooting down until he’s lying down with Eddie firmly curled up on his chest. He gets both arms around him, squeezing him tighter. “I wish I could.”

“She always—” Eddie hiccups, wincing as the motion burns his already aching throat. “She always used to lie down with me. Run her fingers through my hair until her ring got caught in my curls. Then she’d move to tracing up and down my arm.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He lets one hand drift into Eddie’s tangled curls, scratching his scalp before gently carding his fingers through a few strands. His other hand ghosts up and down his arm, goosebumps erupting in his featherlight touches wake.

“Like this?”

Eddie melts under the contact, nuzzling deeper into the warmth of Steve’s sweater. “She made the best grilled cheese sandwich when I was sick. And she’d cut them in weird ways. Let me eat them in bed while she told some story she made up on the spot.”

“Well, m’no storyteller. But I can make a grilled cheese. Probably not as good as your mom's though.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he looks up. “She had a secret ingredient she never told me.”

“Bet it was love.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, shaking his head, “That’s lame.”

“Yeah, it is. She wouldn’t have had a lame secret ingredient.”

“She was the best,” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before they flutter open again. This time he wiggles out of Steve’s embrace and moves his head back to his pillow before grimacing at the wet stain left behind on Steve’s sweater. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Eds. S’just a sweater.”

“I know. I just…” he groans and rubs circles over his eyes with his fists. “I always miss her more when m’sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, pulling at him until Eddie’s back on his chest and his hand is back in his curls. “You can tell me about her, you know? Whenever you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

“Maybe when my throat doesn’t burn like Satan’s living room.”

Steve laughs.

There’s his boy.

“You know, that medicine over there might help with that,” Steve teases, gesturing to the untouched medicine.

Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust, shaking his head.

“Alright, you big baby,” Steve chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep then?”

“Will you stay?” Eddie asks, already fighting sleep judging by his fluttering eyelashes.

“Course I’ll stay,” he whispers. “I’ll even make you a grilled cheese when you wake up.”

“Full of love?”

“Yeah, Eds. Full of love.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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kenmakodz · 2 months

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CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

13. wait, what? ☆

writing in-between cuts!

after walking into the cinema fashionably and embarrassingly late, you finally meet up with the rest of the group. they don't seem annoyed, since the movie technically doesn't start for another 20 minutes. yuuji steps aside from where he previously stood next to you; glancing over to where yuuta once was, you realize he's been making his way over. maki coaxes the group to move ahead, and yuuta grabs your hand out of the blue. you take the gesture with open arms, yet still confused as to why he's seemed so clingy lately. there's no way it has anything to do with your friends being over, yuuta doesn't seem like the type of guy who gets jealous..

you all take your seats, assigned in a row: megumi, nobara, maki, toge, yuuta, y/n, yuuji, left to right. toge seems to be talking to an uninterested yuuta about something on his phone, while yuuji starts up a conversation with you about what happened with him and megumi last night. hushed whispers between the two of you make their way to yuuta's ears, and he can only feel as though you are keeping secrets from him. he knows it's wrong, he knows he shouldn't, but he eavesdrops.

"wait, so he ended up where?"

"dude, like, practically on top of me."

you laugh, and it's hard for yuuta not to smile at the sound.

"and you still think he doesn't like you back, why?"

... wait, what?

he quickly hushes you, and looks over to the end of the row to make sure the boy in question didn't hear you. yuuta has turned his attention towards the two of you, and yuuji sends him a small wave before glaring back at you. "shut the hell up, he could have heard you!" he hisses, not wanting to be mean, but anxious nevertheless. you smile at how shy he gets whenever his crush is mentioned, and ruffle his hair. "it's fine, yuuji. even if he did hear me, i'm sure he'd be over the moon about it." he rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone as you turn your own attention back towards the various advertisements on the screen.

toge finally looks back at yuuta with the most shit-eating grin he thinks he's ever seen. he's confused, until he realizes he was right about toge knowing something all along. the look in his eyes says it all, and toge bursts into a hushed laughing fit. "you knew?!" yuuta whisper-screams, hitting his friend on the arm who is still curled over laughing. he nods, "i saw them holding hands outside the store."

as the ads fade out and the lights dim, anyone around the group could hear yuuta's anger when he lashes out at toge with a "you dick!"

the movie was long, and not exactly something you'd watch in your own time. nobara seemed to share the same opinion with you, considering when you glanced over to her, she was sound asleep on maki's shoulder. the only people who seemed genuinely interested in what was on the screen were toge and yuuji, who kept giving eachother wide-eyed stares every time something unexpected happened. you lean into yuuta, mumbling about how they're like two peas in a pod, and he hums in agreement.

... the cinematic endeavor ends with yuuta's hand wrapped tightly in yours, and your head on his shoulder. whether out of annoyance or relief, it really wasn't certain. the glares have stopped, and the clinginess seems to have subsided. the realization hits you like a truck as you're walking out of the theater, and hold him back while the rest of the group exits. smiling at him similar to toge, he's already prepared to roll his eyes. "you didn't know he was gay, did you?" he starts walking again, pulling your arm as you giggle behind him. "shut up," he mumbles under his breath.

fun facts -> nobara has secretly seen the movie before, but she didn't want to cause a fuss after everyone already decided on it. hence... the sleeping. she didn't even tell maki, because she seemed excited, but in reality maki would've preferred literally anything else. toge and yuuji also wouldn't shut up after the movie ended and talked about it the whole walk home.

-> hahahahsahahshahshadghahs :) bit of a short update but i figured there wasn't really any room for texts if they were all irl for the majority :p

previous, masterlist, next [14. BANNED </3]

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