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sequinsmile-x · 6 months

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Screaming Underwater

Emily gets devastating news about an old friend.

A Young Hotchniss fic.

-x-

Hi friends,

Look, it's been long established that I love sad girl music, and on my lunch break today I was in my car and listening to Phoebe Bridgers. Her song 'Funeral' came on and this idea popped into my head.

I knew this idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, so as soon as I was done with work I sat down with my laptop and wrote and here we are a few hours later!

Lots of hurt comfort in this one, with some protective Aaron thrown in for good measure. Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 4k

Warnings: Drug addiction, overdose, minor character death, grief

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily smiles as she hears the scrape of the key in the lock followed by the sound of the door opening, and her boyfriend's familiar steps as he walks into their apartment. She closes her book, making sure her bookmark is in place, and sits up a little straighter so her head pops up over the back of the couch, her smile wide as their eyes meet across the room.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Aaron says, placing his briefcase on the kitchen counter and walking over to her, leaning down over the couch and pressing a kiss against her lips.

“Hi,” she replies, curling a hand around the back of his neck and scratching his scalp as she kisses him again, “How was your meeting?”

“Long,” he says, kissing her once more before he rounds the couch and sits next to her, smirking at the copy of Slaughterhouse Five in her lap before he picks it up and places it on the coffee table. He wraps his arms around her and tugs her into his side, his lips against her forehead as she willingly sinks into his embrace, “Did you eat dinner?”

She shakes her head and stamps a kiss against his shoulder through his jacket, “No, I was waiting for you.”

When she was growing up, she never thought she’d have this. She always assumed she’d end up a bored socialite, married to someone her mother deemed appropriate, her work organising charity dinners and events. It was the last thing she’d wanted, every decision in her formative years, including choosing to study criminology during her undergrad, had been made to push against the expectations of her. To rebel against her mother and the life she’d seemingly already laid out for her.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that is what had originally sparked her interest in Aaron five summers ago. She’d been home, doomed to spend the summer at her mother’s house between her undergrad and her master's, bored out of her mind as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do for the long weeks she had stretched out ahead of her. Then she’d spotted him across the foyer, something about his seriousness and his tight shoulders drawing her to him, a desperate need she didn’t understand at first to mess with him simmering under her skin.

The first time they kissed was only a couple of weeks later. The two of them hidden away in a room during a part her mother was throwing, Elizabeth’s chastisement still ringing in Emily’s ears as she hid whilst she gathered herself. She and Aaron had formed a tentative friendship by that point, so she knew his concern was genuine. To this day, they bickered about who leant in, who stamped their lips against the other’s first. They spent the remainder of the summer desperate for each other, tearing at each other’s clothes, palming at skin, at any opportunity. She’d spent weeks convinced it was just a summer thing, that once his placement at her mother’s came to an end and she went to Yale it would come to an end. She prepared herself for a goodbye that never came, his smile soft and his hand wrapped around hers as he said he wanted to give an actual relationship a shot. She didn’t even leave it a second before she replied, her arms tight around his neck as she kissed him fiercely, love she’d spent weeks ignoring, pushing down deep into her belly, finally set free.

They’d been together ever since. The long distance nature of the first year of their relationship made them stronger, so when he suggested they move in together when she finished her masters, she didn’t even hesitate, sure about something for the first time in her life.

She loved him, and he loved her. And she was excited for their life together, all of the possibilities stretched out ahead of them, but she also loved the here and now. The reality of being in her mid-twenties and living with the man she loves, the man she could easily see forever with.

“I’ll make something,” he says, kissing her temple and then her cheek, his attempts at pulling away thwarted when she holds him tighter, slipping into his lap, a smile on his face as he automatically holds her in place, “Baby…”

“Come on,” she grumbles, purposely shifting in his lap, smirking when he groans, his hands tightening on her hips, “I had to be professional all day, I just want to make out a little.”

He was more established in his career at the FBI than she was in hers, so he was her superior, even if she didn’t directly work for him. They worked in the same office, and even though everyone knew they were together, they both maintained the strictest professionalism at work. Unless it was the annual 4th of July party and the punch was spiked, then she knew she could convince him to sneak off to a janitor's closet and have his way with her.

Aaron smiles as she leans in to kiss him, her lips stamped against his quickly as she settles further into his lap, the groan he lets out sweet against her lips.

“We can make out later,” he says, his hand drifting to her back, his fingers sneaking under her shirt. She pulls back and raises an eyebrow at him, and he swallows thickly at the look on her face, the barely restrained desire in her eyes, and he nods, clearing his throat, “Or we could do it both now and later.”

She smiles widely, leaning in to kiss him again, well aware that he’d never been able to say no to her, “Both is good,” she whispers, her lips are ghosting over his as the doorbell rings, and she groans, leaning forward and pressing her forehead into his, “Oh come on.”

He chuckles and stamps a kiss against her lips before he helps her off his lap, sliding out from underneath her as he stands, “Sorry, sweetheart.”

She hums, crossing her arms over her chest as she slumps back against the couch, already irritated at whoever was on the other side of the door.

Aaron smiles to himself as he walks across the apartment, his girlfriend's irritation endearing as he shakes his head at her. He checks through the peephole, his eyebrows knitting together as he turns back to Emily.

“It’s your mother.”

Emily sits up so fast she almost strains something in her back, her eyes wide, “What? Why?”

He raises an eyebrow at her, “I don’t know, I left my crystal ball at the office.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Aaron-”

“You two know the door isn’t soundproof, don’t you?”

Emily and Aaron look at each other as Elizabeth’s voice travels through the door, and there is a moment of silence before all Emily does is nod at Aaron as she stands up, her arms crossed over her chest as she sets herself up to protect herself from why her mother was here.

Elizabeth was never one to simply show up, to drop by unannounced. She’d never been shy about her distaste for Emily and Aaron’s relationship, especially at first, but she had seemingly accepted that they were in it for the long haul. Her irritation at her daughter settling down with someone she would never have chosen for her was now limited to the occasional bank-handed comment, the most recent at the 30th birthday party she’d insisted on throwing for Aaron.

Aaron smiles reassuringly at Emily, his promise that he was there, that he was with her, silent but needed. He pulls the door open and smiles at Elizabeth as he steps backwards so she can walk into the apartment.

“Elizabeth, we weren’t expecting you.”

She hums as she walks in, a tension in her frame that both of them immediately pick up on. The usually cool and collected ambassador slightly off-kilter, “I wasn’t planning on coming over,” she says, clearing her throat as she looks at Emily, “But I have some…difficult news to tell you, and I thought I should tell you in person.”

Emily swallows thickly, her chest filling with concern, anxiety sparking in her blood. Aaron steps closer to her so he’s by her side, his hand linking with hers, squeezing tightly as she leans into his side.

“What’s going on?”

Elizabeth purses her lips together, “Maybe we should sit down-”

“Mom,” Emily says, cutting her off, “Tell me what’s going on.”

Her mother nods, “You remember Matthew Benton, your friend from when we were stationed in Italy?”

Emily’s mouth goes dry, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her grip tightening on Aaron’s hand as she nods. Her mother didn’t know why Matthew had been so important to her, why the once seemingly close friends had drifted apart after once being inseparable. After the fallout of Rome, Matthew’s life went downhill, his questioning of his religion after what had happened to Emily, of how she was treated, turning into so much more.

The first time she’d realised Matthew was taking drugs was a few years later. She was in college, a freshman doing her undergrad, when he’d appeared out of seemingly nowhere, back in her life after years of silence. It had been obvious what was wrong, his demeanour and appearance giving it away instantly. He’d asked for money, something she’d given him out of shock more than anything, and it wasn’t long before he was back for more. She’d refused, claiming she’d pay for treatment, for any help he needed, and he’d become enraged. Laying all of his problems at her door, calling her names she knew he never would if he wasn’t withdrawing, his desperation making him cruel as he blamed her for everything.

She hadn’t seen him since then, but she’d always idly hoped they’d reconcile. That he’d get clean and she could introduce him to Aaron, to the other man who had saved her in an entirely different way.

Aaron knew all about Rome, about everything that had happened there and since, so the mention of the familiar name makes him step closer to his girlfriend, his hand still tight around hers.

“Yes…I remember Matthew,” Emily says, clearing her throat as her voice cracks, her tongue peeking out to wet her dry lips, “What’s happened?”

Elizabeth sighs, a motherly type of affection on her face that was rare giving the answer away before she can say it, allowing grief to plant its seeds in Emily’s gut.

“Emily, I’m so sorry, but he’s dead.”

___

Aaron was worried about his girlfriend.

He’d always known she turned inwards during times of stress, something he’d learnt during her finals when she was doing her masters, but this was different - unlike anything he’d ever seen. As soon as her mother left their apartment almost a week ago, unknowingly giving her daughter news that was even more devastating than she realised, she’d been an impenetrable force. Even his training as a behavioural analyst was not letting him see past the walls she’d put up even for him.

He doesn’t let it hurt him, doesn’t allow it to wound his ego. He knew it wasn’t about him. It was how she’d learnt to protect herself when she was very young and he from personal experience that it took a long time to unpick learnt behaviour like that. One of her only childhood friends had died from an overdose, something Aaron knows she was blaming herself for. She was doing her best to hold herself together and all he wanted to do was stand by and make sure he was there for her when she finally let herself fall apart.

He turns to face her as he hears the bathroom door open from their ensuite. She’s fixing her earrings in place, the final touch to her outfit. Her dress was black, appropriate for where they were going but still flattering, and her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail. She was wearing some make-up, but even with it, he could see how tired she was, her lack of sleep over the last week not a surprise to either of them. She looks up and offers him a tight smile as their eyes meet, and he can’t help but smile back.

Even in her grief, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

“You almost ready to go?” She asks, running her hands down the material of her dress to smooth it. He nods and looks at himself in the mirror, checking his suit and his black tie are all in order before he turns back to look at her.

“Ready,” he says, watching her carefully as she breathes out a slow breath, her hands screwing together in front of her, her nerves on edge, “Sweetheart-”

“If you’re going to say we don’t have to go again,” she says, cutting him off, “I’m going to say what I’ve been saying all week. I have to go,” she clears her throat and lets her hands fall to her side, “I know Matthew’s parents might have something to say, they hated me already, but if I don’t go I then have to explain to my mother why I can’t go and that’s…”

She drifts off, her jaw tight as she clenches her teeth, and he nods closing the gap between them and reaching out for her hand. He links their fingers together and she immediately tightens her hold on him, her body aware it needed her comfort even if she didn’t herself.

“Ok, baby, we’ll go. I just wanted to make sure you’re sure,” he says, no judgment in his voice, and she nods, squeezing his hand again. She was grateful for him, for his quiet but enduring love of her, and she smiles softly, grateful when he ignores the shake to it just as she does.

“Don’t leave my side for a minute, okay?” She asks, the closest she had come to asking for comfort in a week, and he nods, wrapping his arms around her and stamping a kiss to her forehead.

“Not for a second,” he assures her, squeezing her rightly for a moment before he lets go and leads them out of their bedroom.

He keeps his promise, never straying from her side, his hand always either on her back or wrapped tightly around hers. His presence reassuring and loving throughout the funeral. She sinks into his side when she spots Matthew’s mother, her gaze fierce and full of judgement across the church full of people Emily knows were all but strangers to her old friend.

They go to the wake, partially out of her mother’s insistence and partially because it feels like the right thing to do. Emily had never been more grateful for her ability to blend into a crowd, something she’d learnt at a young age to avoid Elizabeth when she tried to introduce her to people she had no interest in meeting.

“Do you need anything?” Aaron asks, his arm around her waist as they stand in amongst everyone else, her mother elsewhere, probably talking to someone she hadn’t seen in years. Emily looks up and him and smiles sadly as she shakes her head at him.

“No thank you,” she says, briefly leaning in closer to him, breathing in his cologne, a small reminder of home that she desperately needs.

Her brief bit of peace is disrupted as a familiar voice rings out around them, the amount of venom in it making Emily infinitely more grateful that her mother is nowhere to be seen.

“You have some nerve showing your face here.”

Emily clears her throat as she feels Aaron stiffen next to her, his protective instincts kicking in already. She blows out a breath as she locks eyes with Matthew’s mother, the mix of fury and grief on her face clear, and she ignores how the people around them are pretending not to listen.

“Mrs Benton, I’m so-”

“This is all your fault,” she all but spits at Emily, shaking off her husband’s attempts to stop her, his sadness outweighing anything else, “He was a good boy before he met you. You led him astray and now he’s dead. And you show up here, with your boyfriend like the two-bit whor-”

Aaron steps forward before Emily can stop him, putting himself between her and Matthew’s mother, “You can’t speak to her like that.”

“Aaron,” Emily says, squeezing his arm, shaking her head gently as their eyes meet, “It’s okay,” she says, even though it wasn’t, the other woman’s words echoing around her head, confirming every terrible thing she’d thought about herself all week. She looks at Mrs Benton, “We just wanted to pay our respects, which we’ve done,” she looks back at Aaron, “We should go.”

“I think that’s best,” Mrs Benton says, her grief all channelled into anger, Emily the easiest target for it.

Emily leads Aaron out of the room without further comment, her eyes fixed on the floor as she avoids how everyone is staring at her. They find her mother, who had thankfully not heard anything, and say their goodbyes before they leave.

Emily is silent on the journey home, one of her hands linked with one of Aaron’s as he drives, her eyes fixed on the passing streets whilst she tries to stop herself from crying, well aware that once she starts she might never stop

___

He gives her as much space as he can when they get home, leaving her alone for as long as he can before concern for her wins out. He seeks her out, finding her on the couch, her arms looped around her knees as she leans against the back of the couch.

She’s changed out of the dress she wore to the funeral into one of Aaron’s t-shirts and a pair of leggings. She has her nose, mouth and chin tucked into the neckline of the shirt, breathing in the smell of him, letting herself sit in the comfort it brought her.

“I’d ask you how you’re feeling,” he says as he sits next to her, making sure he’s close but not touching her, wanting to let her take the lead, “But that feels stupid.”

She lets out a single humourless laugh and looks up at him, letting the t-shirt she was wearing drop down to her neck, “Hell of a day,” she says, her lips pressed together, “Hell of a week,” she smiles softly at him, “I appreciate you trying to defend me earlier,” she says, “It was unnecessary, but it was sweet.”

“She was crossing a line,” he says, his jaw tight as he tries the need to protect her rises back up in his chest.

“She’s grieving, honey,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand on his knee, smiling to herself as he immediately places his hand over hers, “It’s easier to be angry sometimes,” she looks down at their joint hands, “Plus, it’s not like…”

She drifts off, her voice cracking as she finally feels everything she’s tried to push down for days start to break free of the box she’d hidden it in, the walls of it cracking, everything in it spilling out. He hears what she hasn’t said, he always had, and he hooks a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“Emily, what she said is not true,” he says, his suspicions confirmed when her eyes flash with something close to defiance, “She’s wrong. She’s sad, and she’s hurt, but she’s wrong. This is not your fault.”

In the end, it’s his relentless love for her that breaks her. Something deep inside of her snapping as she bursts into tears, the force of it making her ribs ache, like something has been driven between them, as it escapes.

“Then why does it feel like it is?” she sobs, her hand covering her mouth as she curls into a ball.

His reaction is immediate as he gathers her into his arms, pulling her into his lap as he holds her tight. She presses her face into his neck, seeking out the scent she’d picked up from his t-shirt earlier from the source, desperately hoping it helps. He feels his own eyes burn, tears gathering in them at the sight of her like this as he kisses the top of her head, running his hand up and down her back.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says, his lips still pressed to her forehead, “I’ve got you,” he waits until the tears slow down, whispering soft reassurances into her skin until her sobs quieten, until they no longer seem to be cracking her open from the inside out. He cups her cheek and encourages her to pull back so he can look at her. He wipes away tears from her cheeks, repeating the action when they are immediately replaced, “It’s not your fault. None of it.”

“He fell apart because of what happened to me,” she says, her voice rough, sounding as hollowed out as her chest felt, “He told me that. The last time I saw him…”

He continues his gentle rubbing of her skin as she shakes her head, stopping herself from telling him the story he’d heard before. He remembered how nervous she’d been when she told him about Rome, how she’d avoided eye contact, sure he’d judge her for it. As if he’d ever consider her as anything other than the bravest person he’d ever met.

“The last time you saw him he was on a comedown, baby,” he says, keeping himself calm, his voice loving but even, hoping his words eventually sink in, “He was desperate and lashing out, saying things he knew would hurt. Addiction is complicated, I know that, but his decisions were his own. Not yours.”

She closes her eyes, forcing more tears to slip down her cheeks, and she clears her throat, “He helped save me. If it hadn’t been for him, how he’d helped…I don’t know what I would have done,” she sighs, “I just wish I could have helped him too.”

“I know you do, baby,” he says softly, tucking some of her hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear, “But it wasn’t your responsibility to help with something that he wasn’t willing to accept help for. You tried.”

She blows out a steady breath as she leans back into his side, resting his head against his shoulder, “I was never really sure what I believed in,” she says, wiping tears from her cheeks, “Matthew believed in it all so much. I still don’t know if I believe there’s a heaven, that we all go somewhere after this, but I hope it’s real,” she says, her voice cracking as she cries, “I hope that he’s finally at peace.”

“Me too,” he says, kissing her forehead, smiling softly when she tilts her head up to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed together, “I know I never met him, but I always hoped I would one day.”

“You did?” She asks, linking their hands together, looking at how they seemed to be made together.

“I wanted to thank him for looking after you back then when I couldn’t,” he says, as if it was completely reasonable to do so when he hadn’t even known her at the time, “You know, shake his hand, man to man.”

She smiles, the first genuine smile she’s had in days, and she pulls him in for a brief kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her once more before they settle back into their embrace, “Is there anything I can do, anyway I can make it better?”

She wraps her arms around one of his, hugging it to her chest, and she rests her cheek on his shoulder, “Just this,” she says, holding him tighter, “I just need you.”

He kisses the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, and he pulls her impossibly closer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ll always have me.”

-x-

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#aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss #Young Hotchniss

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seijohmp4 · 2 years

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FRIENDS DON'T DO THE THINGS WE DO

a late night gas station run that ends in secret feelings from you and atsumu being shared.

# atsumu miya x gn!reader

word count: 1.1k words

warnings: flirty gas station worker

vinn's note: woo first fic! enjoy

“Yer tellin’ me you won’t go to the park with me?”

“Atsumu, it’s three in the morning.”

“And?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the sheer audacity Atsumu Miya has to wake you up at three in the morning to ask if you want to go to the park. “‘Samu didn’t want to come, so I wanted to see if my favorite team manager wanted to,” He had whined. You almost face palmed at his flattery.

“I’ll even buy ya a drink. Free a’ charge.” He said, trying to bribe you.

And you hated to admit it was working.

Not only because a drink sounded good, but because spending time with Atsumu also sounded good. However, you’d rather die than admit you’d ever want to willingly spend time with Atsumu. It'd ruin your reputation of “hating” him (even though you’re sure no one, especially Atsumu himself, believes you hate him; in fact, they’re all sure you’re in love with him, which you deny vehemently).

“Fine,” You grumble, rolling your eyes. “But I better get my free drink.”

“Good! ‘Cause I’m already outside of your house.”

“What?”

You hastily draw your curtains, peeking through your blinds. Sure enough, Atsumu Miya is outside of your house, in his sleek, black car (definitely bought by his dad). With the window rolled down, you could see his cheeky grin as he waved at you. You’re going to kill him.

Silently, you hang up on him, grumbling about how much of an idiot he was (even if his stupid grin made your heart flutter more than you cared to admit). Getting dressed in the first things you could find— An oversized hoodie and sweatpants— You were quick, but quiet, to get out of the house.

The door was opened for you before you even got to the car. You were quick to climb in, gently shutting the car door, before looking over at Atsumu. His smirk made you want to punch him in the face (and then kiss it afterwards).

“My hoodie, huh?”

Huh? Confused, you looked down, and the first thing you had thrown in was the hoodie Atsumu had given you. Heat rises to your face, but you turn away before you give him another reason to tease you. “Shut up,” You scoff. You can hear his snicker.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” He replies, and you can only feel the heat on your face rise in temperature. Atsumu drives off from your driveway afterwards, smoothly driving on the road. He throws a quick glance your way before his eyes go back to the road. “I was thinkin’ that we go get drinks, and then go to the park after. That sound good?” You nod.

He turns on music, and that’s what fills the silence on the way to the gas station. It wasn’t a very long drive, with it just a few minutes away from your house. The both of you get out and make your way inside. The only worker in there looks up from his phone to the two of you. Politely, you smile at him, but as soon as you feel his eyes on you for the rest of the time you’re in there, you realize you might’ve made a mistake.

With your guys’ drinks, you both make your way up to the counter. While Atsumu gets his money out, and the worker begins scanning your items, he smiles at you. “You doin’ okay tonight, cutie?” He asks. You shift uncomfortably, but open your mouth to respond, but Atsumu beats you to it.

“We’re doin’ okay,” He answers for you, an irritated smile on his face.

The worker looks Atsumu up and down, scoffs, and then looks back at you. “You want to ditch this guy, cutie? We can go and have sun fun by ourselves.” Once again, you open your mouth to respond, but Atsumu speaks before you can.

“I said,” He says, a growl to his words; he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, your eyes growing wide. “We’re doin’ fine. Now, stop fuckin’ talkin’ and ring our shit up.”

Holy shit.

The worker rolls his eyes. He begins bagging your items up, but before Atsumu can snatch the bag up, he leans closer to you. “You know where to find me for a good time, cutie.” He purrs.

You cringe but try your best to remain polite. Atsumu, however, was fed up. He snatched up the bag, his knuckles white from how hard he was clenching his fists. He practically dragged you to the car with him. His eyes were downcast in a glare and his jaw was tense; he was pissed.

“Atsumu!” You yelp as he pulls a little too rough on you. He looks over at you, clearly still mad, but he visibly softens at the sight of you. He sighs, finally letting go of you.

“‘M sorry. Are ya hurt?” He asks.

You sigh and shake your head. “What was that about, ‘Tsumu?”

He scowls at the mere mention of what just happened. “That asshole was flirting with you,” He says, as if the words were laced with poison.

“I know that! But you got so… mad about it,” You say, making sure you weren’t going to set him off. Atsumu had quite a temper on him, even though most of the time he hid it behind jokes. Pissing him off even more while he was already this mad would be dangerous.

“I was jealous,” He growls. “Ya happy? Ya gonna make fun a’ me or what?”

You soften. “Of course not, ‘Tsumu,” You answer softly, and he relaxes at your words. “You know I wasn’t even paying attention to what that guy was saying, right? He doesn’t matter to me, ‘Tsumu. You do.”

Friends don’t say things like this to each other.

Friends don’t get jealous when a guy flirts with you.

Friends don’t sneak not-so-sneaky glances at each other’s lips.

Friends don’t lean in.

But you are. You’re leaning in before you can stop yourself, and so is Atsumu, and it feels like all the stars collide as your lips meet. His lips are a little chapped, but you don’t mind. The kiss itself is a little rough, but you don’t find yourself upset about it. Instead, your hands fist into Atsumu’s shirt and you pull him closer.

By the time both of you pull away, you’re panting and staring at each other with red eyes. Atsumu’s face is flushed, and his mocha eyes won’t leave yours. “Holy shit,” You mutter between breaths.

“Did we just kiss?”

“Yeah,” Atsumu pants. “We did.”

There’s a pause.

“Are we…?” You trail off, but you’re sure Atsumu knows what you mean.

“If you want to then… yeah,” He answers.

“Yeah, yeah,” You say. “I do.”

“So, it’s official. We’re dating.”

A smile forms on your lips upon him saying it out loud. “We’re dating,” You parrot.

Holy shit. You’re dating Atsumu Miya.

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#writing #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu miya x y/n #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya imagines #atsumu miya fluff #haikyuu fanfiction

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hotchxreid · 1 year

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hotch being relieved when he comes home and finds his wife asleep on the couch because he was scared something had happened

HELLO LOVELY ANON THANK YOU

He had texted her that they were wrapping up at the station and would be wheels up in about and hour to come home and he hasn’t received a reply. Which is unusual since his wife usually had her phone nearby, especially when he was away on a case. Aaron felt like a school boy constantly checking his phone for a text from his crush, feeling an all too unpleasant anxiety grow. It started in his stomach. He felt it churn over as he packed up the conference room with the team. He was able to rationalize that maybe you were busy with something, but when he called her to let her know they were on the way to the airstrip and you didn’t answer that he began to full-on worry.

Taking a seat at the back of the plane, he sat and stared out the window, his paperwork that he usually so meticulously fills out on the flight home left forgotten on the table in front of him. He tried calling his wife again to let her know they were about an hour away from landing, and the phone once again rang until the sound of her voicemail filled his ear. For once, he didn’t end the call and instead listened to her warm and bubbly voice announce that she was “unavailable at the moment but will get back to you as soon as possible!” And he really hoped that voice recording was right.

With no text or call back from her by the time they land, Hotch hits the tarmac and doesn’t break stride. “Everyone go home and take the evening off. You’ve worked hard on this case and deserve a break,” he called over his shoulder to his team as he headed straight for their cars. His mind was now whirling with a hundred different scenarios, all good and bad. If they hadn’t gotten rid of their landline (stupid fucking cellphones, he’s definitely going to put one back in the house) than he would have just called to have Jack pick up.

Oh, Jack.

He sped home, only being sure to be mindful of the speed traps and red light cameras he knew were nearby. He parked in their driveway and quietly entered through the front door with one hand on his Glock. It was late now, and Jack and his wife should both be in bed, but the light was on in the den. He keeps forward silently, subtly clearing each room he passed by.

Once he entered the den, he felt his breath catch in his chest. He saw the top of her head laying on the armrest of the couch and quickly braced himself for the worst. As he rounded the couch on the balls of his feet, ready to spring into action or collapse to the floor, he saw her.

His beautiful wife was laying on the couch with her hand tucked under her head and a blanket pulled up to her chin. Aaron didn’t shame himself when he felt tears well up in his eyes. He crouched down next to her head and gently pushed her hair back and petting her head. Her pulse best steadily against her neck, drawing Aaron ever closer to it before his lips were pressed against the warm skin.

His wife stirred at the soft kiss and began to stretch, making soft noises from sleep. “Aaron, honey. I’m sorry, l tried to stay up for you.” She sat up a bit to get closer to Aaron and had to pause to yawn deeply. She paused mid stretch when she noticed Aaron’s flushed cheeks and the tears in the corner of his eyes.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I just,” he takes a shuddering sigh, “hadn’t heard from you and… I had started to worry.”

“I was meal prepping your lunches for the week and then I was doing laundry and tidying up. I just laid down to watch a show and must’ve forgotten to text you back first. I’m so sorry, honey. Come here.” She reached out her arms and wrapped them around Aaron’s neck, all but pulling him to her chest that he fell into willingly.

His arms snuck around her waist despite the awkward angle of him crouching on the floor and her on the couch. Aaron felt soft kisses being pressed to his forehead while gentle fingers scratched through his hair. A moment passed before his wife spoke again softly, with love and warmth in her voice.

“You wanna come lay down on the couch and I’ll lay on top of you?”

He smiled brightly at that and leant back to wipe a runaway tear from his cheek. While it may have sounded dirty, it was anything but. Feeling her warm body weight on him, pressing him into the couch made him feel so safe and loved. He didn’t even realize that’s what he was craving until she said it. She truly was perfect. Even if she made him worry sometimes.

#anon #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem #Aaron Hotchner fanfic #mine #criminal minds

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chivalricendeavors · 1 year

Text

Nobody Ever Did That Before

He meets her at the door for their first date and walks her to the car. Opening the door, he offers her his hand, she looks at him and smiles as she shakes her head.

“Is there something wrong?” he asks.

 “Opening my door. Nobody ever did that before." She says.

Dinner conversation as easy as banter between old friends. She opens up like a flower in the morning sun. He encourages her to share more with him. She pauses bringing her hand to her mouth to hide a smile but the blush on her cheeks give her away.

“I love your smile and your laugh. I would love to hear who was your best friend in college,” he said.

 “Wanting to hear my story. Nobody ever did that before,” she says.

They sit in the car. Neither of them willing to acknowledge the end of the evening is quickly approaching. He smiles and leans close. She closes the distance and draws a deep breath. He holds his place and just looks into her eyes. He too, draws a deep breath.

“I would like to kiss you,” he says.

 She smiles and nods reducing the distance between them.

“Asking for a kiss. Nobody ever did that before,” she says.

She calls to break a date because she isn’t feeling well. He offers to make her soup and keep her company. She is hesitant, but inside feels her own disappointment if she tells him “no”.

As promised, he arrives and makes dinner. Quietly, he sits as she rests her head in his lap. A soft sniffle as she presses herself against him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

 “Sitting with me when I’m sick. Nobody ever did that before.” She says.

They tease and flirt relentlessly. He respects her space, her boundaries and requests. She tells him that he will never see her bedroom until she cleans it. It is her built in safeguard to ensure she is ready for more in their relationship. He smiles and agrees.

“You will always say when and if. I will always honor that,” he says.

 “Respecting me and my wishes. Nobody ever did that before,” she says.

She lets him into her head. She begins to grasp his desire to lead and take charge of the small things that hold her down and keep her from being happy, despite all of her hard work and success.

She realizes that he is capable of tackling her monsters as well. He supports her passions and endeavors.

He is willing to stand just slightly to her right and behind her when she needs it.

“I’m proud to be part of what you love and want from life,” he says.

 “You aren’t afraid to be second at times? Nobody ever did that before,” she says.

She lets him into her heart. She tells her stories of heartbreak and disappointment. She detoxes from her day as he stands patiently listening. She shares her desires for a happily-ever-after and what that may look like.

“I can only offer you a happily-ever-after one day at a time but will do my best to make that happen,” he states.

 “Wanting to be part of my happily-every-after. Nobody ever did that before.” She says.

She lets him into her bed. He takes his time and is deliberate about his way. He has no need to rush because he knows what she wants, and slowly extracts that from her.

His hands holding her wrists. His mouth on hers. His fingers tracing the curves, valleys, and heights of her. Like an explorer, he maps every part of her and revisits the places she willingly opens to him again and again.

Patiently, purposefully, powerfully, he takes her. She is hungry and devours his attentions and affections. He commands her attention physically, mentally and emotionally. She submits to his will and direction with unhesitating consent.

Her mind and body tired, and yet she convulses and shakes as he holds her afterward. A soft sob of joy mixed with pleasure and pain escapes her.

“Let it out. Let me have it all.” He says.

 “Set me free and let me surrender. Nobody ever did that before.” she whispers.

She laments of the chaos and disorder she feels in her life. She wishes she had more organization and time to enjoy the things she wants to do, not has to do.

Slowly he sets to help her put her world in order. Schedules, routines, even an overhaul of her kitchen cabinets. She is awed by the effortless way he sees straight lines where to her is nothing but blurry curves.

“Less confusion in your space will create more calm in your mind," he says.

 “Calming my mind and giving me my space. Nobody ever did that before,” she says.

She hears the rumble of her phone. The early morning text. He faithfully arrives on her phone every morning and every night he cannot be with her. Her heart beats faster, and she anticipates his messages with excitement every time, as if it were the first reply.

“I crave you and want you. All of you,” he says.

 “Craving me and wanting me. Nobody ever did that before,” she replies.

She sees him everywhere she looks more and more each day. The order in her life is evolving into the world he creates and guards for her constantly, and consistently. She is no longer alone, and no longer left wondering when will it be her turn. Her life is now growing into a beautiful garden of perpetual blooms and blossoms.

His heart loves her. His hands protect her. His life serves her.

She smiles and ponders just how this happened and tries to remember what it was like in her life when nobody ever did that before.

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celtics534 · 2 years

Text

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold it Can Be Chapter 8

What’s Gonna be Left of the World?

Who is ready for some action! Because it’s time for some! Hope you all enjoy!

Also Read On: FF.net or AO3

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Harry tapped his hand on the steering wheel in an inconsistent pattern. His entire body was on edge as his eyes followed every car that passed their meeting point. They'd picked the small park because it was hardly ever occupied but provided places for cover. It was ten minutes till ten, and they were waiting for Crouch to arrive. Harry was still uncertain of Moody's plan. A lot felt up to chance. And chance wasn't something he was willing to deal with when it came to Ginny's safety.

Ginny

Fuck... she was... Harry glanced over at her in the backseat. She had her head back and her eyes closed. A few long strands of her red hair fell out of her ponytail, framing her face. She was gorgeous. Every part of her was incredible, and Harry was brave enough to admit he was hopelessly in love with her. At least he could admit it to himself. When he'd tried to tell her last night... fuck, he'd sounded like a prat.

But he was in love with her. Harry had fallen so hard for her in such a short amount of time it made his head spin. Never before had he felt so enamored by someone. Ginny had hooked him without even meaning to. And now, Harry was being forced to watch the woman he loved willingly put herself in danger. They could have figured out another plan. There were witness protection programs for this exact situation. But Ginny was too strong, brave, feisty, and stubborn to back down from it all. She wanted to be the one to handle it. His strong Ginny wanted to be her own hero.

Harry was all for her being assertive and fighting her own battles... except for this one. This was a fight in a league of its own. And despite his belief in Ginny, in their team, Harry was afraid. No... he was terrified that something would happen to her after he'd only just found her.

"You know." Ginny's teasing tone broke the silence in the car. "You missed your calling. You should have become a drummer rather than a cop. Beats like that are rare."

Harry looked in his rearview mirror to see an adorably sly smirk curling her lips. "I'll have you know, I was in a band back in school."

Ginny's eyes shot open, that wily grin shifting into a look of surprise. "No way!"

"Oh yeah." Harry nodded, turning in his chair so he could look at her head-on. Her wide-eyed gaze made his heart beat a little faster. "I'm pretty sure I remember the chords to some of our classics."

"Really?" Ginny was leaning forward now, her excitement shining bright in her dark eyes. "When we get back, you're going to play me something."

When we get back.

The words made a fist clench around Harry's gut. It was a reminder of it all... where they were and what they were about to do. A heavyweight fell onto his chest as different outcomes rushed his mind. This Crouch could just come in with guns blazing and just shoot her, not caring about Riddle's desire for her. The image of Ginny lying on the ground with blood pooling around her made him shiver.

Ginny's hand came up to cup his cheek drawing his eyes back to hers. The soft feeling of her hand, mixed with warmth in her gaze, made Harry's heart flutter. She leaned into him, pressing a light kiss to his lips. "It's gonna be alright, Harry. It's all going to work out." The quiet certainty in which she said it made the knot in his gut ease, but it still was hard to breathe.

"I just... Gin..." He choked on his tongue. Harry wanted to tell her, admit how much he cared for her. Admit how he'd fallen in love with her, but the words would come out of his mouth. So instead, he settled on pressing his lips back to hers.

Ginny's hand slid around his head to thread through his hair. He loved the feeling of her nails scratching along his scalp. When she pulled away, Harry tried to follow, only to collide hard with the back of his seat. Ginny let out an ungodly cute giggle. "Watch out there, darling. We don't need you getting hurt." She returned to him, stealing a quick kiss before falling back against the seat. "I need you in tip-top shape for when you serenade me."

Harry smiled at her. "Do you have a request in mind?"

She gave him a thoughtful look before shaking her head. "No, I want you to surprise me."

Before Harry could respond, his radio crackled as Moody's deep voice filled the car. "I think this is him. The black BMW with tinted back windows."

Harry spun to look out the windshield. The car drove slowly into the car park, the headlights shining harshly into Harry's eyes. He squinted, trying to determine who was in the car, but it was impossible.

Ginny leaned through the gap between the seat. "Can you see him?" Her voice wavered only slightly.

"Not yet," Harry said, glancing over at her. Her lips pressed into a hard line as she stared at her would-be kidnappers. "But we're not moving until they do."

It didn't take long for the driver's side door to open, and a man crawled out. Harry heard Ginny's sharp intake of breath and instantly knew they'd landed their mark. He turned fully to look at her. Her body trembled ever so slightly as she watched the bastard take off his sunglasses.

"That's Crouch," Ginny said, her tone void of any emotion. Harry wasn't fooled by her cold act. During their short time together, Harry had observed Ginny in many situations. She was tough as nails, ready to fight. But she also had fears and anxieties that made her stomach roll.

Harry brought his hand up to her face, unable to resist trying to ease some of her tension. "We've got this, Gin."

He watched her shoulders sag slowly as she released a deep sigh. Her dark, gorgeous eyes turned to meet his, and Harry was sucked into their depths. "I know. We're the dream team, after all."

When she kissed him, Harry lost track of the world for a moment. It was just him and her. Then she pulled back and turned back to Crouch, who stood in front of his running car, his hip leaning on the hood.

Harry forced himself to look away from Ginny. He needed to get his head in the game. This fucker wouldn't know what hit him when Harry was done with him. With a fire fueling his blood, Harry grabbed the handle to his door and opened it.

Crouch wasn't an overly large man. Maybe five-nine in height with a lean form. But it was his eyes that made his stature more frightening. They were a sharp grey that looked unnatural. But the wicked glint that appeared when Ginny stepped out of the car made Harry's gut twist.

"Miss Weasley?" Crouch made his tone sound calm and welcoming. The bright smile that he sent her way looked harmless. Harry gritted his teeth. He, himself, had used that tone and smile on frightened and traumatized people over the years. And if he didn't know better, Harry would have believed Crouch's sincerity.

Ginny tilted her chin up high, meeting Crouch's gaze head-on. "That's me."

Crouch turned to look at Harry; that darkness in his eyes hit Harry like a knife. "I've got this from here, Officer."

It took all of Harry's willpower not to just charge the fucker and punch him square in the jaw. He desperately wanted to know that grin off his face. But instead of giving in to his violent urge, Harry kept his eyes on Crouch. "Do you have your identification?"

The grin didn't leave Crouch's face, but Harry saw the shift in his body. Crouch's shoulders tensed, and his fingers twitched. "Is that necessary? I was sent here by Lieutenant Kingsley."

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't move. Simply waited for Crouch to do as he asked. Now that fake smile disappeared, replaced by a sneer that Harry hated almost as much as that bullshite smile.

"Who are you?" Crouch demanded, a sharpness in his tone.

"Detective Potter," Harry responded coolly.

Crouch's fingers twitched again. Harry noticed them moving slowly towards his hip...

Harry moved quickly. His hand went to his own concealed weapon that he'd tucked into the waist holster he'd hidden with his jacket. His pistol was met with a twin. Crouch's finger twitched on the trigger of his semi-automatic.

"Well." Crouch's sneer became harsher and more wicked. "This is a surprise."

Harry didn't remove his focus from Crouch and the gun. "Ginny, it's time for you to find Tonks."

"She's right over by the public loo," came Moody's gruff voice from somewhere to Harry's left.

Crouch's eyes widened, but he didn't take his eyes away from Harry. "A setup." He didn't pose it as a question, merely a statement.

"That's right, lad. So you best lower that gun before Potter and I are forced to use ours."

Harry saw Crouch's hand tighten on his weapon. "You know, I don't think I will. Because you see, you're not the only one who has a trick up their sleeve."

That was when all hell broke loose.

Harry didn't have any warning before the glass and bullets started flying. The windshield of his car shattered as rapid fire came from Crouch's car. Harry fell to the dirt, making sure to keep his pistol in hand. He put his back against the side of his car, his ears ringing from the gunshots.

Checking to his right, Harry could see Ginny lying behind a trash bin. She had only made it halfway to Tonks before needing to take cover. Tonks had her back against the small public loo building. The pistol she’d borrowed from Moody fired in rapid succession towards the BMW. He could see Tonk's eyes scanning around, trying to find the best way to get to Ginny. Harry knew his friend wouldn't let anything happen to Ginny. That belief was the only reason Harry was able to turn his focus towards his left, where the gunshots came from.

He leaned slowly around the car's hood, taking in the situation. Crouch had opened the driver's door, using it like a shield as he shot towards Moody. Moody had found cover behind a tall oak that sat just outside the car park. Harry couldn't see the grizzled man, but he could hear his bullets colliding with the BMW.

The dirt near Harry's hiding spot splattered before he heard the shot. Harry fell back behind the car, looking at the bullet that stuck out of the soil. There was another shooter; Harry knew that to be true. But what he didn't know was if it was only one additional shooter. For all he knew, their entire car had been full of gunmen.

Taking a chance, Harry glanced around the car again, taking in only one other pair of shoes. Feeling relatively comforted by that, Harry twisted to get his gun out from behind the hood, taking fire at those leather boots he'd noticed.

The man hopped back as the bullet landed just inches to his right. Harry took the opportunity to lift himself up to look over the top of the hood. The man he'd just shot at had the traits akin to a rat. Large teeth were just the start. Harry took aim at the man's chest missing again but making the bastard fall back behind the car.

Harry fell back down, letting his body scoot the side so he could peer around the headlight. He could see Crouch's legs from under the door. Taking careful aim, Harry fired.

It was Crouch's scream that made Harry know he had landed his target. Blood started to pour from the wound only after the man had fallen to the ground. He heard Crouch's companion call out, but Harry couldn't see him from his lower vantage point. Taking a second, he rose to his knees and looked over the hood again. The rat-man had his gun trained on Moody as he fired without any skill. All his shots went so far off into the woods Harry was worried about a wayworn squirrel.

Moody didn't seem fazed by the attack; on the contrary, Harry could see a smile curling the man's lips. He was insane! Then he watched as Moody jumped out from behind the tree and fire, hitting rat-man squarely in the shoulder.

The scream that echoed around the empty park made Harry flinch. Then there was silence except the ringing in Harry's ears. He kept his body low, moving cautiously away from his cover. Then suddenly, the BMW was moving, tires kicking up dirt as someone reversed. Harry went to his full height, moving quickly to try and stop them from fleeing, but the car was out of the car lot before Harry could even lift his gun to shoot out the wheels.

"Fuck!" He heard Moody curse as he hurried to stand beside Harry. The BMW was already out of sight, heading down the unsuspecting quiet village road. Harry stopped at the edge of the lot, looking down the road, hoping to see the BMW wrecked on the side of the road, but there was nothing.

He spun back towards the scene, yelling every swear he'd ever learned. Blood spotted the dirt beside where Crouch had once been. The amount wasn’t enough to be fatal, but enough to need medical attention. Then Harry's eyes fell onto the man curled into a ball. Moody has his gun trained on the man. Crouch had abandoned his friend.

"Harry!" Tonks' loud cry made Harry's head snap towards her. She was running towards him, a hand holding her shoulder. Harry could see the red spreading down her blouse. He started to charge towards her, but she shook her head. "I'm fine. Killed the bastard who shot me, but..."

That's when it clicked in his head. "Where's Ginny?"

Tonks shook her head. "When the two fuckers came out of the backseat, I told her to run into the wood and hide. That I'd be there in a moment. One came after me... but the other one..." She stood right in front of him, her expression pained. "The other one followed Ginny."

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Harry had never experienced pure and uncontrollable fear. He'd faced many dangerous and frightening things over his life. There had been the first time someone had drawn a knife on him. Or when he'd jumped in front of a moving car trying to save a kidnapped child. He could still remember how his heart had pounded when Tonk called him in tears to tell him about Remus.

But this... the way his heart climbed up into his throat and how his body had started to tremble... Harry knew this moment was filled with raw and unadulterated fear.

Ginny was out there in the woods... being hunted by a monster, who wanted nothing more than to drag her to his lair and sink his teeth into her. Harry couldn't stop his body from shaking. His focus was fading in and out. It was Tonks' steady hand that kept him from falling to the ground.

"Harry," Her sharp voice barely cut through the ringing in his ears. Her shaking is what drew him back. "Harry, you need to breathe. Everything is gonna be — Harry! Wait!"

Tonks' last words were lost on him as he charged into the woods. He had no idea where Ginny had gone, but he would find her if it was the last thing he did. There was no way he would let Ginny fall into Riddle's clutches again. He had promised her, and Harry never went back on a promise.

The path was rocky and untended. He could see multiple shattered branches and numerous disturbed leaf piles. Harry jumped over a large fallen log, stopping to listen. His heart beat loudly in his ears, making it nearly impossible to hear anything else. But he tried. Harry stood there waiting for any noise, any sign to point towards Ginny’s location.

After ten seconds, Harry started to move, hoping that he miraculously went in the right direction. His feet moved without guide or thought. He couldn't think... think of anything past finding Ginny. Think about what he'd do if Riddle laid a finger on her.

A muffled snap made Harry stop dead in his tracks leaves dislodging at the motion. He closed his eyes, focusing only on his hearing. There was rustling to his left, like wind blowing leaves. Or was it someone shuffling them with their feet?

"Fuck!"

The yell came from his right. It was far away, but he'd heard it. Harry's eyes shot open as he started sprinting towards the voice. His lungs protested, making every breath harsh, but Harry didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

A scream reverberated off the trees, making birds fly off in fright. A woman's scream. Harry was certain his heart would burst out of his chest as he picked up his pace. He needed to get there. Need to get to Ginny before —

A root caught Harry's foot, making him fall face-first into the unforgiving ground. He instantly felt the sting of a deep cut across his cheek, but Harry didn't care. Harry didn't care that his jeans had ripped or his ankle throbbed. All that mattered was getting to Ginny. He lifted himself to his feet, charging right back towards where he could now hear sounds of leaves scuffling and angry tones.

Dodging around a large oak, Harry broke back into a run. He had never moved so fast in his life. When he saw her red hair flashing in the sun, Harry nearly cried out in relief. Of course, that was before he took in the situation. Ginny was on the ground, scooting backward as quickly as she could. Riddle stood over her. His pale face was pulled into a nasty glare. A large gash ran over his left brow. It looked like he'd been hit with something. The something became evident as Ginny took a swing at Riddle's legs with a long tree branch, trying to trip him up.

The bastard jumped back, his lip curling into a hair-raising snarl. "You fucking bitch! I swear when I get my —" He cut off as Harry skidded to a stop. When Riddle turned his cold, dead on to him, Harry couldn't control the shiver that ran down his spine. How someone could look so... twisted.

Riddle glanced down at Ginny, her chest rising and falling rapidly from her spot on the ground. Harry could see the tension in her shoulders as she scooted further back. Riddle's lips curled into a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the fear he created. He turned to Harry. "Don't try to be a hero, boy. Get out of here before I'm forced to…"

His voice trailed off as Harry lifted his pistol, pointing it directly at his chest. Riddle's expression contorted into that of an angry viper ready to strike, but rather than moving towards him or Ginny, Riddle took off into the woods. Harry swore, getting off a shot that splintered into a bark. Riddle weaved out to the left, disappearing behind a collection of trees. Harry charged after him, tucking his gun in the holster as he went. Riddle was fast, he weaved out between trees with hesitation. Harry cursed as his ankle gave a painful throb, making him stumble, but he kept his eyes on Riddle’s back.

Riddle would not — could not — get away. Harry had to make the fucker pay for everything he’d ever done. All the women he’d hurt. The way he’d tormented Ginny. Harry would not stop until he was in cuff or dead.

He saw Riddle sped to the left, jumping over a small brooke. Harry considered taking out his gun, firing a warning shot. Maybe he could even hit Riddle in the arm or something. Anything that would make the fucker stop, so Harry could —

“Fuck!” Ginny’s loud cry made Harry’s head turn. She was trying to use a large branch as a crutch. Her face was contorted in pain as she tried to put pressure on her left foot. Harry spun to look back at Riddle but he was gone… long gone. Not a trace of him remained. He couldn't even hear crunching leaves or twigs snapping. It would be almost impossible to find Riddle again, especially now that he knew Harry was looking for him.

Harry looked back over at Ginny. Her cheeks were flushed and blood flowed freely from a wound on her head. Without a second thought, Harry went over to Ginny, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her to lean on him.

“Harry, what are you doing? What about Riddle?” Ginny asked. “I’m fine, just a sprain. Go get Riddle. I'll be fine."

There was clearly much more than a sprain. Blood and dirt coated her face, and Harry could see a deep gash on her cheek. That didn't even start to cover all the minor scratches covering arms and legs.

Shaking his head, Harry curled his arms around her legs and back. She practically weighed nothing making it easy for him to lift her into his arms. Ginny gave out a surprised squeak, dropping her makeshift crutch. "Harry, what about Riddle? Leave me and —"

"--I won't find him now." Harry looked around, trying to regain direction. He found the cluster of rocks he'd jumped over to reach Ginny and started towards them. "He's long gone."

The fact that he'd failed to shoot Riddle would haunt Harry forever. If he'd not hesitated and just shot Riddle as soon as he spotted him, that bastard would be laying in the leaves. But that wasn't who Harry was. He always took in a situation before pulling the trigger.

Harry turned to the left at the spot where he'd heard Riddle's angry cry. He tried to keep his pace steady and gentle, not wanting to jostle Ginny more than necessary. Her arms were tight around his shoulder, fingers clutched his dirty shirt.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice was soft, hesitant even. He looked down into her dark, beautiful eyes and saw the anxiety in them. "What... What's gonna happen now?"

"I —" Harry had no idea. He didn't know what had happened when he'd left Tonks and Moody. The fate of the injured man was a mystery to him. And then Riddle... Riddle was another thing on his own. He stopped before stepping over a fallen log. His eyes stayed on Ginny's. "I don't know, but we'll work it out together. We're the dream team. It’s what we do."

When Ginny's lips curled into a soft smile, Harry knew he'd said the right thing. He was even more validated when Ginny's arms came up to wrap around his neck, and she brought his lips down to hers. She pulled back, her eyes locking onto his. "Thank you."

The intensity of her gaze made Harry feel like fire spread through his veins. His heart thudded hard against his chest, ready to break through his ribs. He looked down at her mouth, wanting nothing more than to get lost in kissing her. Get lost in her. Fuck, who was he kidding? He was already there just from looking in her eyes. "Gin, I lo —"

"Harry! Ginny!" Tonk's loud call cut Harry off.

Harry looked up to see Tonks jogging towards them. Her shoulder was covered by a large wrap bandage, and Harry could already see the tinge of red bleeding through.

She stopped in front of them, her eyes scanning over them, taking in Harry's protective hold on Ginny. "Are you alright?"

"Just a sprain," Ginny told her; she twisted ever-so-slightly in Harry's arms so she could look at Tonks. "How about you?"

Tonks waved a dismissive hand. "Through and through, I'll be alright, just sore." She looked up at Harry. "Was it Riddle?"

Harry nodded. They might not have known what Riddle looked like, but Harry had no doubt they'd come face to face with the monster. He looked down at Ginny, noticing the paleness of her cheeks and the way her eyelids kept closing before she forced them open. "How about we get back to Moody's. I could use a shower and a nap."

Ginny met his eyes; the grateful smile she sent him made Harry's stomach flutter with butterflies. Tonks didn't hesitate; she pushed aside the log blocking Harry's path with her foot before starting back towards the car park.

Harry pulled Ginny closer to his chest, loving the way she relaxed in his arms. Her head lay on his shoulder, her warm breath warm and steady. It wasn't until they reached the car, that Harry became certain Ginny had fallen asleep. Her whole body had become limp, and it took Harry a few moments to figure out how to place her in the back of Tonks' car without hitting her head.

He got her sitting comfortably with her head supported by one of Teddy's soft toys. He buckled her in, closing the door softly. Tonks stood waiting for him, her hand unconsciously rubbing near her shoulder.

"So... what happened to Riddle?" That was Tonks. No need to beat around the bush.

Harry let out a sigh; he leaned his body against the side of the car. The adrenaline that had fueled him was fading, and that nap sounded better and better. The sooner he could get Ginny into bed, curl up around her... just hold her... the better. "He — he got away."

Tonks pursed her lips. "How bad did he hurt her?"

"More than should have happened." Harry clenched his fist, remembering the way Riddle had stood over Ginny. He sucked in a deep breath before letting it go. He'd gotten there in time, and now Ginny was safe. He would keep her safe.

"I'm sorry —" Tonks started, but Harry cut her off with a shake of his head.

"It's not your fault. It's his, and the next time I see him, I'm going to fucking kill him."

Tonks stared at him, her eyes calculating and understanding. When she spoke, her voice was gentle. "You're in love with her."

It wasn't a question or tinged with judgment. Just a simple observation that Harry would be a fool to try and lie about. When he nodded, a broad smile spread slowly across Tonks' lips. "That's good because she's perfect for you." She jerked her head to the car. "Let's get back to Moody's. Moody took that fucker back to the house in your car. Figured you'd prefer to drive back with me and Ginny."

Harry nodded, moving around to the passenger side. He slid into the car slowly, his muscles protesting at the movement. Maybe a hot shower first to loosen up a little.

"So," Tonks said as she started the car. "Do you think Teddy has had fun playing with all of Moody's neighbors’ cats? There were like fifty of them."

Smiling at the image of his godson chasing cars around the elderly woman's house, Harry nodded. "I bet you he's gonna ask to take at least three of them home."

"He's gonna be a big softy, just like his daddy and uncle Harry," Tonks said warmly as she turned onto the road.

Harry looked into the backseat where Ginny still sat sleeping. He could see a little bit of drool coming out the corner of her agape mouth. His smile widened. "Nothing wrong with being a softy over the right things... right people."

"I'm sure Ginny is gonna love that about you." Tonks smiled slyly. "She's gonna use that to her advantage."

Ginny's nose twitched, and Harry felt his heart flutter. Yeah, he was a sucker for her, but Harry didn't care to hide it anymore. He reached back, gently rubbing his thumb over her knee. "If it means I get to be with her, I'm good with it."

#in your warmth i forget how cold it can be #Harry Potter #Harry and Ginny #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #harry X ginny #hinny #hinny fic

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caffeinatedshoe · 1 year

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Ranwan Kilgrave AU where Taxian Jun gets the power to control people with his speech. Anything he says, the target of the words has to follow. The power is always active and the only way Taxian Jun can "turn it off" is by never actually making any commands or requests of people.

Mob boss Taxian Jun who finds his old highschool teacher after he comes to power. His old highschool teacher Chu Wanning, who had looked down on him - who had decided he was never going to amount to anything - yet here he was, with all this power at his fingertips. Of course Taxian Jun goes up to him to say hello. The man glares at him, there is no recognition in his eyes at the man Taxian Jun has become. It is only until Taxian Jun moves into his space, lowers himself to look up at his old Laoshi and puts on his best simpering voice to say "Chu Laoshi, please pay attention to me" does the man flinch and finally meets his eyes. "Mo Ran?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hearing the name he discarded long ago cuts through the initial joy he felt under the weight of Chu Wanning's attention.

"Don't call me that.", he growls at Chu Wanning who immediately purses his lips shut, his eyes still wholly fixed on Taxian Jun - still paying attention to him. It sends a spark through him, at receiving the what he has craved since he was a teenager for the very first time. He doesn't have to beg for attention anymore from his uncaring Laoshi, all he has to do is ask and Chu Wanning will bend over backwards to give it to him. He asks him to come home with him and Chu Wanning willingly follows him into his car. There is a growing joy in him at Chu Wanning sitting next to him, talking about the last couple of years of his life, answering every question Taxian Jun throws at him with more words than he's ever heard the man say before.

When they're home, he gets on the couch and pulls Wanning on to his lap immediately. The man is stiff and looks like he's about to protest but Taxian Jun leans forward to kiss him before he can. He feels Chu Wanning struggle in his arms and immediately draws back to look at him.

"Do you not want to baobei? You like this don't you, I can tell - don't pretend you're not more into this as I am", he says before reaching between the man's legs to feel the evidence. He hears Chu Wanning whimper at the sudden contact. "Tell me how you feel, baobei, he says into the other man's ear, tugging at the lobe with his teeth, "are you saying you don't like this?"

"N-no"

"Tell me you like this. Tell me where you want my hands."

"Please"

Taxian Jun looks up to see Chu Wanning with his eyes tighly shut, the rims red-lined and looking close to tears. He sees the flush that covers the man's face and watches as it disappears under his fully buttoned white shirt. He immediately leans back into the sofa, taking his hands off of Chu Wanning. At the loss of touch, the man opens his eyes to look at him.

"Take off your shirt."

Chu Wanning looks like he wants to protest but Taxian Jun watches as his hands go to his shirt anyway and start to unbutton them. He watches as more of the red flush he had seen on his laoshi's face is revealed on his neck, his chest - and getting redder under Taxian Jun's gaze. Throughout this, he keeps his eyes closed - until Taxian Jun demands he open them to look at him again.

It keeps going. Chu Wanning moves in with him. They sleep together every night. Chu Wanning agrees to marry him. Taxian Jun never has to beg for attention from his husband. His attention, his smiles, his touches are now freely given. To Taxian Jun and to the world, they make the perfect couple. Every day Taxian Jun leaves his husband at home to work. Every day he reassures him to wait for him until he returns, he'll be back as soon as possible. Every day, he says he loves him and Chu Wanning says it back.

Until one day where Taxian Jun doesn't say goodbye to Chu Wanning, he simply walks out and leaves the man alone - with no declaration to wait for him.

Taxian Jun returns to an empty house.

He turns the house upside down, rage overtaking his initial panic. Barely anything from the house is missing - all the things he had bought for his husband had been left behind. There were no signs of a struggle, no note and no Chu Wanning.

He immediately sends out all his men to find Chu Wanning. A mixture of anger and hurt fills him that his own husband would simply walk away so easily from the life they'd built together.

He thinks back to every time Wanning had smiled at him, had cooked for him, had slept in his arms when the nights grew cold. Was none of that real to the man he married?

They find Chu Wanning in 3 days time - the man had not made it too far from Taxian Jun's house. Taxian Jun receives word about his capture before he is brought before him. Apparently, Chu Wanning had tried to fight off the men he had sent before they managed to subdue him.

He sits at his desk and waits with clenched jaw and barely repressed anger as they bring his husband before him. His husband, who is still struggling, who won't meet his eyes.

"Where did you go?"

Getting no response, he steps up and moves closer, "Why did you leave, baobei?"

He notices Chu Wanning flinch at his words. He sends the men holding him out and grabs Wanning's wrist to pull him towards him.

"Was all this not good enough for you?", he hisses, "was I not good enough for your greatness?"

All Taxian Jun's insecurities and hatred from a year ago have resurfaced at his husband's betrayal.

"Was any of this real to you?"

At that, he gets a reaction. Chu Wanning finally looks up at him, the glare he hasn't seen for over a year is now present and it is all Taxian Jun can focus on.

"Was any of this real to you, Mo Ran? Was it fun controlling my every move, have you not done enough?"

#chu wanning #danmei #2ha #mo ran #ranwan #erha

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nickgerlich · 2 years

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Ad And Subtract

The days of shotgun advertising are slowly but surely drawing to a close. Sure, there will always be some newspapers that linger, and their ads are by definition one to all, the only demographic in the variable being location. Income, education, gender, etc., are all out the window, because when you buy an ad, you are paying to reach everyone who buys and reads the paper, not just a narrow target. That’s money poorly spent.

Much the same can be said of broadcast television advertising, although some degree of specificity can be directed, such as time of day and which program. Once you stir in cable channels, you can be much pickier, as with radio and magazines, because these are typically aimed at ever smaller niches. Your ad spend can be done much more wisely.

But what if you could advertise to people based on something very abstract, such as where they are going? This would necessarily have to be audience-of-one, and in all likelihood will happen only once, or maybe a few times.

That’s exactly what Uber has launched with its Journey Ads, which only the passenger will be able to see. They will feature products and businesses that match the rider’s stated destination, and will also be based on prior history. If this sounds like they will be speaking directly to you, then you would be right.

Plans call for up to three ads within a journey, all viewable within the Uber app. Passengers can purchase from those ads while in the app. An advertiser can even sponsor the entire journey.

Fortunately, Uber’s ad policy prohibits adverts based on locations such as reproductive centers, hospitals, and government offices, as well as demographic variables such as race, religion, and sexual orientation. While other sites like Meta and Google have long tracked our comings and goings, and have sold that data, Uber promises to keep things on the up and up. This is especially critical in a state like Texas, where abortions are now banned.

“Destination advertising” has been a long time coming. The technology has certainly been available to leverage geofences such that once you cross a certain invisible line, ads start popping for businesses near you. Google Maps also drops in a few paid references to businesses while it navigates you to your destination (e.g., “Turn left after the Starbucks.”). Uber’s version is actually not relying on technology as much as these options, though, because you have already informed it of your destination, and ads will be determined concurrently. It’s not like there’s an eye in the sky tracking you.

As creepy as it may all sound, I rather like advertising that is indeed tailored just for me. Sure, it can be annoying at times, but if all I see are ads that may truly enhance my life experience, I’m all for it. And yes, there is always the possibility of any or all of the tech companies selling what we likely contend is private information, but no one forced us to check that Terms of Service box when we downloaded the app. We did so willingly, and invited them along for the ride.

Perhaps the biggest takeaway from all of this is that Uber realized it had the potential to become an advertising company just like Google and Meta. While those two companies are presently crying in their beer over poor performances the last quarter, Uber presents one more option for companies desiring to place ads strategically. It’s a unique proposition, because looking at social media or using a search engine are very different from hopping in someone’s car for a one-time ride. But Uber has seized the moment (as has its competitor, Lyft) in realizing that there are always special moments in our daily lives that could be leveraged for effective ad placement.

I bet it has been a decade since I last took a taxi. I have never Ubered or Lyfted. I usually drive or walk wherever I am going. But as with all things new, I’d be willing to try just to see how this all works. I’d just have to think of a really cool destination for my ride, and then wait for the ads to pop.

Dr “Hit Me With Your Best Shot“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #Uber #Journey #ads #advertising #mobile

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

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I did a redraw of a screenshot from the opening credits of castle of cagliostro (AKA that part of the movie I mentally refer to as 'the wistful gay roadtrip amv' lol) while listening to an audiobook! if I could just live inside the gentle contemplative mood of that credits scene I would.

#lupin iii #arsene lupin iii #daisuke jigen #jigen x lupin #(I said wistful gay roadtrip and I meant it haha)#I don't really have a proper set of coloured pencils as much as a bunch of them I've somehow accumulated over the years #so some of it I had to improvise wildly (probably a bit of hubris in choosing a night scene too lol)#but working traditionally is sometimes more calming to me so *shrug*#also the fiat is way too small in this but it's also the only car I'll ever willingly try to draw; it's so smol and squat <3 #my art

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infictionalwonderland · 2 years

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Mikaelsons with dominant s/o headcanons !

warnings : mentions of sex and sexual themes, swearing, fem, mentions of mistress kink, mentions of abuse ( mikeal to them )

mikaelsons included: klaus, elijah, kol, rebekah

klaus choke me mikaelson —

100% a praise kink

i will perish on this hill

poor baby isn’t used to praise even without any sexual context so if you praise him, he’s literally gonna melt

little spoon.

just yes.

secretly enjoys giving up control

keep in mind he’ll only actually be like this if he wholeheartedly trusts you, which for someone like him is extremely rare

my darling just wants to be taken care off :(

after care is also very important

it is anyway but literally is essential with klaus

surprisingly he’s adorably obedient toward you... in private

but in public he lives to tease you and everyone just naturally assumes he’s the dominant one between yuse to

i don’t think he’d be a fan or having pain inflicted on him cuz of his past with pain and well, abuse

but he’s all up for other stuff bc he’s just eager to please you

would die happily with his head smushed in between your boobs

and in public he always needs to be touching some part of you -

whether that’s hand holding, an arm around your waist, him literally carrying you - he does not gave a shit.

he’s just so unlike his normally threatening and dominant self around you

he’s shy and obedient and just completely puppy

he loves to paint / draw you as well

he’ll gift you paintings and expectantly wait for the praise which always makes him blush no matter how frequently he receives it

he’s just your little big puppy <3

elijah mikaelson —

this man 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

he’s the most unlikely sub

with his aura of confidence and power you wouldn’t expect him to be submissive

but i guess you just powerful like that or whateva, go bestie 😩

his hands are ALWAYS on your thighs

not a little squeeze, not it’s permanent fucking placement

he would willingly suffocate himself in between said thighs

his goal in life is just to live in between your legs, #newhometings

in my opinion he’s such a giver

he LIVES for pleasing you and the praise you give just makes him all the more eager to do so

of course if you wanna return the favour he’s not complain ( when does he ever complain when it comes to you ) but he honestly doesn’t care

i don’t known about you lot but i think he’s actually quite a sexual active person

.. just me? okay.

he secretly loves the thrill of fuckin’ in public places and almost getting caught

people outside the bathrooms y’all fuck in : what y’all doing? screwing??

monstrous sex drive

sweetheart when i tell you.. the whimpers this man lets out 😩

i will combust

he’s really into lingerie

will get hard instantly if he sees you in just one of his shirts and underwear

he loves to give you gifts omg

expect so many gifts

proper sugar daddy material

lingerie, cars, jewellery, clothes, perfume, shoes, bags, lingerie and oh, have i mentioned lingerie

ask for anything and you shall receive

like im not even kidding, it can be anything and he’ll find a way to get it for you

kol mikaelson —

mistress / miss kink.

.. im just finna leave that there

cuddles cuddles and more cuddles

he loves cuddles sm

severely touch deprived

will bury his head in your boobs at any given time and place without shame

such a fucking brat

purposefully works you up and annoys you so you punish him

the punishments excite him

such a bloody simp for you

will immediately swoon at your dominant persona

dominant women >>>>>>>

expect numerous sex jokes

, which most the time are partly serious

he maybe sorta kinda has a huge thing for your voice, just in general

he’s just in awe that even your voice can be perfect

especially during sex, fully just say anything and this horny fucker is on the edge

loves when you pull his hair

like a lot a lot

he enjoys blood sharing too

if you’re not a vamp, that’s fine also, he’ll just drink from you if that’s okay with you

but if you are a vamp — blood sharing is a huge yes 😩😩

without sexual context, kol honestly just wants to be cared for and babied.

he’s always felt alone and uncared for so all he wants is for someone to care for him

you need to give him forehead kisses

and pay attention to him please, he’ll play it off but will genuinely be upset if you don’t

just give baby boy some love <3

rebekah mikaelson —

my little treasure <33

praise her, cherish her, treat her like she is the only woman in the world

constant reassurances, all the time

never let her think you do not love her

i personally think she’s equal parts give and receive but sub rebekah would defo be practically a pillow princess

my baby needs all the compliments

and i mean all, do not hold back

constant kisses

forehead kisses

cheek kisses

soft kisses

passionate snogs

you’re the type of couple to make other people jealous

rebekah adores when you do her hair

secretly just because she loves the feeling of you playing with her hair

cuddles all the time!!!

it’s nonnegotiable

you two always blasting music

dancing around with each other, singing and just being fckn couple goals

she loves it when you pull her closer by her waist

literal. butterflies.

she’s admittedly sensitive, okay, so you do have to mind what you say

and if you do accidentally offend her you can make up for it with bubble baths and kisses

and your tongue

hand holding >>

this girls hands are so soft it feels like silk

you two are always holding hands if you’re out in public, walking together

rebekah loves hugs from behind too

you just come up behind her and hug her around the waist, AND give her face soft kisses — she’s the happiest person in the bloody universe

the most loyal couple <3

everyone loves you two together

yes, even klaus

which truly says how perfect you are together.

#rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikealson #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #rebekah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #dom reader #klaus mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x you #sub mikaelsons #fem reader #the originals

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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HSLOT SAINT LOUIS

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A post shared by harry styles updates ♡ (@harryflorals)

instagram

warnings: smut, 18+

Harry was doing his same script, he’s been starting every show but addressing the circular stage.

“Sometimes you’ll get m’face and sometimes you’ll get m’ass. Please, let me know if y’have a preference,” He gives the crowd a cocky grin, it widens when the audience goes insane with whistles and screams.

YN is standing off to the side, where she always stands with Harry’s friends and family who come and go - visiting them.

Harry’s eyes dart to his wife, when he sees her rolls her eyes at him, he points at her, speaking right into the microphone, “And you’ll be gettin’ the ass baby!”

The arena is near deafening with the fans who are fawning and cooing at the couples interactions, they all look back to YN.

She blows him a kiss and he dramatically snatches, smacking it right on his backside with a cheeky wink and purse of his lips.

He goes on with the show in his stunning red outfit that fit for Saint Louis perfectly - YN was matching him in a dark satin orange slinky dress that was undeniably sexy. It had Harry feeling her up backstage before he went on. ***

The fans loved that the couple matched at every concert.

YN loved watching her husband perform and after that comment about her getting his ass…well, it gave her some ideas for later.

The way the shirt he was wearing wasn’t buttoned enough so she could see the glisten on his chest, how the trousers hugged his perky backside like a sin.

It may be wrong, but everybody in this arena wanted him.

They want to hug him, kiss him, blow him, fuck him - but the only one who got that was her and she basked in it.

As Harry finishes with Kiwi, losing his absolute shit, YN and everyone else starts to head backstage. YN waves to a few fans and stops for a selfie or two before disappearing.

When Harry runs back to join, after dashing from center stage, he automatically finds his wife and wraps her up into a tight hug.

“Ew, bun. You’re extra sweaty, you definitely need to go shower,” YN crinkles her nose, pushing him off as he does stink a bit and is just sticky from sweat.

Usually, Harry would coerce his wife into joining him but they had quite a few friends who came to see the concert and YN was expected to entertain them.

“I’ll be thinkin’ about you, flower,” He teases, nipping her ear before chatting with their friends for a moment before he’s trailing off to shower and change.

YN waits a few minutes, enough time to guarantee he was already in the shower - soaping up.

She punches in the code to his locked dressing room, a soft smirk on her face as she steps over where he’s strewn the orange ensemble to purposefully piss off Harry Lambert - like always.

When she opens the bathroom door, she makes sure to be as quiet as possible - same as when she shuts and locks it behind her.

It a modern, standard shower stall and Harry is standing facing away from his wife - scrubbing his hair roughly to get the styling gel and grime out.

Harry’s shoulders are so broad.

His back is just…beautiful.

It’s so muscular, defined, and strong as he flexes his arms forward. Then her eyes trail down to his backside.

His bum was small, she loved to tease him and pinch it but it was muscular as well from those squats and wall sits he does in the gym.

After she quickly undresses, she steps in behind him into shower - pressing her chest up against his wet back and wrapping her arms around his waist.

Harry startles, nearly jumping out of his own skin before huffing out a laugh and leaning back into his wife, relaxing - well more like melting as he puts his weight on her.

“Thought y’were some crazy fan,” He jokes, hand coming down to cup the hers on his waist but frowning when she pulls back.

“Against the wall,” YN murmurs firmly, pushing him gently until his chest is against the tile and the shower head is pounding on his back and shoulders.

Harry shuffles forward, willingly albeit confused about what was going on and his wife’s demeanor as the cold of the wall hardens his nipples.

“Baby? Y’alright-“

“Did you wash yourself up already?” YN asks directly, hands rubbing softly at his sides, squeezing where his mini love handles are.

“M’body? Yeah, why-“

She cuts him off again, lips on his shoulder blade, “You told the crowd and me that I was getting your ass. I’m just holding you to your word.”

And when Harry realizes what’s about to go down, he lets out a low, explicit moan that echos throughout the bathroom.

“Yeah, baby, yeah,” He babbles excitedly, it wasn’t like this was something rare for them. They normally incorporated ass play into their sex life.

It was something about catching him off guard, when he’s vulnerable, and the post-show adrenaline has already worn off - making him malleable and pliant for his wife.

“You want to be all cocky, arrogant on stage, right? But look at you now, whining for your wife to touch you,” YN teases sharply, hand drifting down to squeeze his cheek hard enough to make him squeak.

“Baby. I’m yours, I’m yours,” He gasps, voice turning into a raspy yet high begging tone.

It was a tone of his voice that nobody in that crowd had or would ever hear. No, it was saved for her when she had him like this, like nobody else ever will.

“You don’t think I know that, Harry?” His wife laughs, fingers moving to sneak between his cheeks, pressing tightly against where he’s aching for her.

She continues, “God, I think everyone knows your mine. You can’t keep your eyes off me during the concert, parade around your wedding band, make sure my tattoo is always visible.”

“It’s ‘cause you- oh fuck, s’cause y’my soulmate,” Harry moans, pushing back on her fingers - wanting more but she wasn’t willing, “Need more, darlin’, m’close.”

She really wasn’t even doing much beside pressing at him, pushing in just the tiniest amount but he was grinding his hips against the wall a bit and her tits felt so good on his back.

Sometimes when he came off stage, he had absolutely no stamina.

Normally he could last but when he was adrenaline high and had basically edge himself in front of tens of thousands of people, it wasn’t going to be a long event.

“That’s really sad, H. Reminding me of when we were teenagers and you couldn’t last,” YN ends her rude statement with a bite to his shoulder before dragging her teeth down a bit.

It was just fun to get Harry worked up, he still acted the same from when they were younger - he’d get bratty and demanding, whiney, his chest and neck bloom into a soft pink color, and his eyes are a bit wet.

“Still just as much of a fool f’you, tha’s why,” Harry puffs out, hands continuously clenching and releasing over and over against the wall - like he wants to just make Harry wife touch him, tortured by her teasing.

“Fine, fine,” YN simpers, as if he was being a pain but she slips down onto her knees - hands dragging down his back and then his lean, solid thighs.

But in typical Harry behavior, he turns back and looks over his shoulder, “Sunflower, y’knees? We can move out of the shower.”

“Shush up,” She accentuates her words with a heavy handed smack to his right cheek and she chuckles when he gasps out a quiet, “Fuck.”

YN cups his cheeks, spreading them and leaning forward.

As soon as her tongue hits where he’s hot and tight, his legs twitch, and he puts his hands on the wall to brace himself.

“Darling, baby, baby,” Harry mewls, pushing back for more and hissing when she licks into him - his ring-bare hand leaning back to thread into her hair.

YN was planning to draw this out but she only gets a few directed laps before he’s moaning obsencenly, loud enough to hear through the god damn arena.

And then he’s gripping his cock, giving one firm tug, and he’s coming with pants and unfiltered, inconsiderate shouts of pleasure.

“S’good, m’good wife. S’no one better than you. Y’the only one who makes me feel like this. Crave y’like a drug, flower,” He praises endlessly, he turns around and helps her up - kissing her harshly.

When his hand comes to sneak between her thighs, she shakes her head and murmurs, “We don’t have time, H. Everyone is waiting on us.”

He pouts with his swollen pink lips, “I’ll take care of y’are the hotel, promise.”

“Mm,” She agrees, scrubbing the leftover shampoo bubbles from his hair as he tucks his face into her neck and tries make himself smaller.

Harry always gets a little sheepish after she does anything that makes him feel vulnerable, needs reassurance from her.

“Only with you, m’yours. Y’own my heart, ‘ave since we were fifteen,” Harry murmurs into her neck.

When they get themselves together, dressed, and exit the bathroom into the dressing room.

Harry Lambert is irritated as he is picking Harry’s clothing off the floor and putting it back on the hanger.

The stylist gives them a look, a knowing look, as he hangs the trousers on the rack.

“Fuck off,” The singer huffs, tugging his wife by the hand out of the room and to the car waiting for them.

#harry styles #hslot #harry styles love on tour #hslot!harry #hslotrry #hslot Harry #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #erodsafishtacos masterlist #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles smut #husband!harry #harry styles husband #Instagram

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miekasa · 3 years

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Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it.

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby.

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad.

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on.

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying.

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside.

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place.

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone).

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way.

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for.

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch.

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés.

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this.

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it.

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well.

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program.

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do.

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk.

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes.

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to.

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye).

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester.

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other.

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand.

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right.

#anonymous #when.... when.... WHEN IS IT MY TURN #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot imagines #no because he's the love of my whole life #jean fluff #jean smut #eren x reader

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strawberry-nugget · 3 years

Text

𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 | E.Kirishima x Reader

Pairing: Kirishima/ reader, Bakugo/ reader (mentioned)

Summary: You shouldn't want him and he shouldn't want you, it's sinful and forbidden. But he can't help coming back to you, and you can't do anything but take him in every single time. Until today that is.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Aged up characters (twenties), NSFW 18+, plot with some p//rn but it's not very detailed, unprotected sex (please use condoms everyone), cheating, casual penetrative sex, jealousy, the seggz is pretty vanilla though

↪A/N: tennis player Kirishima, tennis player Kirishima, idk how I came up with it but I can't get it out of my head, written for @doinmybesthere 's 3k event collab and based on The Hills by the Weeknd, don't be shy to tell me if you liked it, I almost wrote 4k in a day which is unusual for me

5.30pm [Missed Call: Red]

5.31pm [Missed Calls(2): Red]

The bubbling notifications are spamming your phone, each call, succeeding the other in persistence and length, making your phone crawl onto your coffee table in restless buzzing. To your salvation the device is on silent; you're just unable to bear the overwhelming sound of your ringtone echo through the empty walls of your apartment, to let it bounce between concrete like a slimy ball, only for it to hit you on the face with tremendous force.

It's one of those days that you can't answer Kirishima. Too perplexed in the wields of your mind, blaming yourself for this horrendous situation, delivering raw swears at him for simply existing.

You don't know how it came to this nor when was the exact moment things switched. Was it at the party that you met him? Or the thousandth time you took him in and let him ruin relationship after relationship. Either way it was horrible for not only you, but also him, and all the people that have been caught up in the sidelines of this rotten affair.

You shouldn't want this anymore and truly, you don't. You're tired of being the second choice, of hiding behind your little finger, crying yourself to sleep at night, only to put on a sultry face for every time he comes. Once, twice a month.

[New Messages: Red]

Babe, you there?

Read 5.38pm

[New Messages: Red]

Babe I got practice at 8.

I know you're reading those.

Read 5.39pm

[Red is typing…]

[New Messages: Red]

I'm outside btw

A fresh, tremendously sharp wave of anxiety rushes through you at the little notification -it can't be like this again, not today. The thudder in your chest is unbearable, heart too weak to stomach the weight of your decision, fingers too reluctant to type out your response.

He's probably smirking while staring at his phone, not a single care in his head. It's loathing to your mind as you confirm your speculation, shooting a glance out of your window, landing your eyes on his car.

He shouldn't be here.

His thousands dollar car doesn't belong in your urban street, not in your side of the town. And it's so dangerous that he's doing this to see you. You've played the worst scenarios in your head a thousand times, millions of headlines on sites and the news about this; Eijirou Kirishima, on his way to claiming a fifth Grand Slam, caught in affair with university student.

Atrocious, degrading, exposing. A hit to his career that would bother the media for a couple of weeks and paint your name in mud along the way.

Why can't he just be content with the model that he's with? You're nothing like her, not as pretty and you don't have her body, you don't have her face, but he still says he finds you better, says he knows you better, but he just can't be with you.

[You]

Can't do it today

Sorry

You're good to yourself, only when you deny him and only when you feel the satisfaction of being the one to do so. It's pointless to sulk over saying no. He can go fuck other girls, play with their hearts and leave you to your otherwise peaceful life. Even if it is just for today.

You don't have the chance to let a smile creep to your face when your doorbell rings. The jiggling sound bursts into your eardrums once and twice, three dreaded times and they're enough to make your stomach churn, your neck tight and your skin ache.

You contemplate on opening the door for him, subconsciously letting yourself feel like a vulnerable prey, who, after running away to save yourself, is choosing to walk into the wolf's den, so willingly that you can feel yourself drifting away with each step you're taking towards the door.

"Babe,"

The swing of your door handle, the crack of your wrist, the creaking of your door as it opens to reveal him; they're all embarrassing. You can't tell if they fall short on his ears, too caught up in the way he looks -all swollen muscles and tall legs. You're running out of courage to say no and he knows this.

He's not as innocent as this cheeky smile frames him out to be, he's not the sweetheart everyone wants him to be either.

He's Eijirou, who's selfishly standing on your door, who's barging his way in your apartment, who's grabbing your cheeks and slamming your face in his, biting your lips until he draws blood, just to punish you for standing up against him.

Your door is slammed behind him, one bend of his knee and it's falling into its rightful place. To shield the sins of your affair, to bring you comfort and privacy as he attacks parts of your neck, your chest. Places that only squeeze perfectly under his touch.

"Babe," He calls again, in between soft kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

You frown and try to look away, past his cocoa colored orbs, past the swelling that's taking over his lips -and yours- with a numbing, tingling sensation.

"Eijirou—"

"I don't have much time in between training, I got a game the day after tomorrow."

It's always like this, you know. He doesn't have to tell you twice or try to excuse his own self for what he does or how he acts. You're pushed between schedules, or slammed into his timetable like a truck when he feels like indulging with you again, hidden between the lines of his free time.

You're sure at this point that it's the thrill he's after. The sinful taste of your lips on his, how he feels in control while chasing after you, when you can't keep up with him.

His lips don't taste like sour cherry anymore, but you let them wiggle against yours with triumph, you let him want to catch his breath as he pulls back and you put the minimum effort in returning the passion you receive.

You pull back, ignoring the words he's whispering against your face, only to take in his features once again.

Soft black hair pulled into a low ponytail, spiky bangs that fly all over his face and his tips drowned in a fiery, foxy red. The only reminder for who he was before his tennis career blew up. For who he was before he turned into this cocky womanizer whom you're desperately after with a longing heart.

"I'm just not in the mood today."

"Well let's get you in the mood then huh?"

He smiles, nose scrunching and chapped lips hiding behind his gums as his hand moves to your thigh, tagging your shorts with furry. As if he's desperate to have you, right here and now. As if bending you over the couch will help put out a fire in him. That's how he always convinces you to keep this going.

He's making you feel like not having you this way is insufferable.

You're buried in the crook of his neck while being pushed onto the couch, nibbling a soft spot that you've found, rubbing his skin on the top of your tongue. You know how to do this without leaving a mark, you can hold back from wanting to take all you can get from him.

But today it's different. It's going to be the last time.

It's not like any other time you've told yourself that you are going to end this. Today you're going to leave a mark, you're going to bite your way into his skin and drink from his poison -the intimate attention he's only ever willing to give- and you'll get drunk in it.

"Fuck," He grunts against your lips. "Fuck, don't stop that feels good."

You don't stop, eager to listen to him, to breathe into his neck before you wrap your lips a little lower and closer to his collarbone. You should be asking if this will cause him problems, but gone is the guilt that veils your coinsense otherwise. You suckle on a spot and then another, stealing his groaning moans one by one as they fall from his lips, plushing them softly in a spongy part of your brain, where they can rest forever, until you've forgotten them.

"Get your shirt off Eijirou," You plea, ogling eyes watering from the pressure that's applied in the apex of your thighs and he's quick to follow your command, lips curling upwards in a sweetheart smirk.

You're going to miss the way the apples of his cheeks cover his eyes when he smiles like this. But there's no going back for you and him.

With legs that feel like burning rubber you hug around his horse, watching the way his muscles flex and fold with his snappy movements. His shirt, tousled and wrinkly, tossed in an unknown corner of your living room, only for him to guess where it is after he's gotten his fix of you.

Thick fingers probe at your sides, pulling your shirt downwards in a silent plea, take off your shirt, give him the satisfaction that he wants, indulge into this as much as he wants you to.

But today, you're not in the mood for this. So instead of pulling your shirt off, you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down at the most dreadful speed, making him bite his lip impatiently.

You won't miss this, the way he's expecting so many things of you.

And if he notices something's wrong, he doesn't say a word, presumably content with getting what he wants; the rear view of the gap between your legs, where he can bury himself and get lost for the next thirty minutes.

"Fuck baby," he moans. "Why do you smell so good?"

You grunt, averting your gaze from his as he pushes your bangs away from your face with the back of his hand. You want to miss his puppy eyes. Ghosting him won't be easier for you if you don't.

But damn if he couldn't read you this well, things would be easier.

"Not in the mood to talk?" You look even further away to avoid the question, "babe, you can tell me if you're not well, you'll feel better if you let it out"

You don't need someone to tell you how to feel. You've decided when the two of you are going to be through. It's set and done, even if he feels at the top of the world right now, you won't inflate his ego anymore.

"M fine Eijirou, put it in," You bite his lip, putting huge effort in making him forget about what he thinks it's bothering you. "Want you to put it in m'kay?"

Sultry, fake voice, he's heard it all before and he doesn't have the right to call you out for it. Whatever he does next, you're his for the moment and for the last time.

Repeating is your rightful way of convincing yourself of not giving up on your decision. If only he could have broken up before deciding to wet himself in you, if only you hadn't taken him so eagerly, if only you hadn't become just like him. Welcoming him despite availability status, afraid to lose him, saying that a little sex wouldn't hurt. If you could do this on repeat, then you could get rid of him quite as easily.

You're not better than him and he's taken your vulnerability to him for granted. He's loved the attention you've paid him from time to time, whenever he's given you so much as a mere call.

You should pretend to moan, to hurt his ego, but as he's delving into you, slowly, mellowy, his kisses feel like burning sunshine, August breeze against your skin, kissing your shoulders lightly. It hurts that this salvation is coming from his mouth, as it moves rhythmically against every inch of you.

"Fuck, fuck, ah, you feel so good, you know that?"

You don't answer, nor do you wrap your lips around him. You don't move them against his when he goes to kiss you, but you coo into his warm embrace once his hands come to cradle you in a tight embrace.

"I love you," He slips up and you contemplate on whether you have to start hating him from this very moment. "I just wanna be with you, I—" He grunts. “—this is why you don't believe him, but nonetheless you hold a moan in as well. "Fuck, I'll break up just for you.”

Now that's a new one. A new addition to the long list of red flags you have with his name on top. You can't fall for it. You absolutely can't. If you do, he'll treat you just like this, he'll fuck behind your back and kiss you goodnight before going off to sleep with someone else. Like he's slept with you, once, twice, thrice.

And you're going to hate being the one who's fooled, despite deserving it more than anyone else. And another girl, or guy, is going to be his subject of desire.

You shouldn't want him to be yours, but you're lewding your 'I love yous' out of your mouth like they're nothing, poisoning your heart until there's nothing left but dust and sucked up blood, all devoured by the greed he's made you feel.

"You love me too?"

"I do," You cry, rocked between him and the couch, neck hurting by the way he's digging his teeth in yours.

"I'll fucking leave everything for you babe,"

He shouldn't. He won't. You tell yourself he's only saying this because he wants to come, to make you feel dirty with his actions and fish out words that make him ecstatic or send him over the edge from your mouth.

Rhythms are peaking, his hips burning from his movements, foreheads are dripping in sweat, lips taste salty against each other. The perfect picture, the most tingling sensation, and you're too fucked to go back, or keep yourself content with him. It feels the same as the last time, a numbing knot in your stomach, commanding you to rip your heart out and throw it away, spooning mewls out of your mouth.

If you could, you'd mute him, not wanting to listen to how beautiful he sounds as he's coming down from his high. If you could, you'd look away, and wouldn't try to burn the image of his body as he's falling apart in your mind.

"That was—" The sigh that leaves his chest through his mouth is liberating, you can tell—"amazing. I still love you, so much babe."

His hand soothing the pain of his thrusts, does nothing to make you feel better. You want to shove it away, but you don't, unhappy with the way you're turning out to be.

"It's time for you to go, Eijirou, isn't it?" You remind him. A hand pushing him off of you and quickly smoothing your T-shirt over your legs to deprive him of the view that'd make him wear a smug of triumph.

"So quick to get me to go. Did you find someone else again sweetheart?"

You don't reply as you're putting on your underwear and pants, shoving his shirt into him with a heavy hand.

"You did, didn't you?"

"None of your business, go off to your practice, your girl, don't patronize me anymore."

He gruffs, beautiful features scowling in that stormy gaze that reeks of his authority, "Here I am pouring my heart on you and you found someone else"

"Eijirou, it's seven thirty, if I were you, I wouldn't be late for practice. You got a game the day after tomorrow."

No more dealing with his pouting, you're going to bawl your eyes out if you have to do it. The sooner he's out of your house, the sooner you'll get this over with; the tight lamp in your throat, the image of him smiling at you like this, him admitting feelings that he shouldn't have.

Hurting him isn't the role that suits you. Because you can't do it. You can't hurt that warm sunshine he has on his face. He has to be the one to hurt you like he's been the one to drive you away. It's too late for him to change or reverse your roles.

You don't want to fight and he knows it.

He knows you, so well, well enough to use you as he wishes to, letting you believe you're using him too. You're going to make him watch you slip away, and he won't do anything about this.

So he's eager to leave as you're pushing him out of the door, he doesn't cup your cheek with his hand, and doesn't kiss your forehead tenderly like he always does.

"You should come to this party Mina is throwing, let me meet your new guy."

Like hell you'd ever do this, he knows, but teasing won't hurt a bit. Eijirou can deal with you dating other men, he's claimed you well before, he'll do it again if he has to, especially now that he's decided to have you.

"Yeah yeah, and if I do, don't ever call me again, 'kay?"

You're too good to not do as he says, or not to fall back to him, and he's too good to not come back to you. To him, you're a match made in heaven, to you, you're a lost cause, burning in the fiery pits of hell as atonement for your sins.

He doesn't know that you'll fall apart before dressing up, how you'll tell yourself you're not doing this for him, but as a statement against him.

You're no better than him, in fact, you're worse.

…

The only problem is, that when Eijirou pulls up at Mina's party after practice, you're already there. Drink in your hand, flared jeans hugging your legs, layered tank tops that cover the bruising truth of this evening, laughing at whatever your friends are saying.

When he puts out his phone, calloused fingers furiously typing a text addressed to you, you're too far gone into another glass, dancing a little dance before grabbing everyone's cups to go for a refill, greeting them in that silent way of yours, drunken smile.

And then you'll pass him by and blink at him, you'll mutter a small greeting and he'll grab you by the hand and whisper in your ear just how hard he'll take you driving the night. You'll swoon, moan, forget about the drinks and follow him anywhere he leads you.

That's how everybody knows about the two of you.

This time, though, you don't cast a single eye on him. In fact, you're tainting him, walking past him while ignoring him, leaving him awestruck and hurt, like his confessions earlier in the day meant nothing to you.

It's a hit to his heart, how your jaw drops as you bump into Bakugo over the kitchen counter, eyes too wide at the sight of him. How your finger dances playfully on his chest and as you smile at him when he whispers something in your ear.

It's infuriating how you drop the cups near the sink and follow Bakugo outside, or how the blond waves at him with a pressed smile against his lips, signaling that he'll be busy for a while.

His insides churn, tummy aching in a feeling of guilt, one unlike anything he's felt before. Losing you doesn't taste in the way he thought he would, it's worse; sour and poisoning. It makes him flee the party, furious and bitter.

When he's back, his body is heavy, feet dragging him across his apartment, mind blank as he follows his basic routine before bed time, fixated on how easy it seemed for you to just ignore him and flee with one of his friends as soon as he came over to the party he invited you to, wondering how you could be so ruthless with him all of a sudden.

Sweet talking Kirishima with a smile of gold, the sweetheart of the professional Tennis scene and you're over him in the split of a second, pushing him away from you without an explanation or heart wrenching speech. Not giving him the satisfaction of some closure, just forcing the cold tempo of your sudden departure in the depths of his heart.

He pays no mind to the girl that sleeps beside him, back turned to him like she's oceans apart, despite the unspoken bound that's keeping them together. He'll leave her, make up for all the damage that he's done, in any way that he can manage to.

It all comes down to the fact that no one can love you like he does, no one can want you like he does. Someone can do it better, but you have to want him.

5.30am [Missed Call: Red]

5.31am [Missed Calls(2): Red]

[New Message: Red]

Fuck, with Bakugo out of everyone?

Delivered: 5.31am

[New Message: Red]

Did you have sex with him?

Babe answer me.

Delivered: 5.32am

[New Message: Red]

I'm breaking up with her tomorrow morning.

And I'll come over.

Babe.

Babe please.

Delivered: 5.33am

[New Message: Red]

I'll take you on a date and we can talk about us okay babe?

Let me know when you wake up.

I love you.

So much.

Delivered: 5.38am

Read: 10.23pm

[You]

(Attached Image)

Sorry 'Red' even if you sound like a total douche, cheeks forgot her phone at my place.

I bet on her answering your late night drama when she takes her phone back.

[Red is typing...]

Super thanks to @celestidarling for proofreading this and giving me the biggest pump of confidence to post

↪Up Next: Dragon King Bakugo

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #bnha #kirishima x y/n #bakugou x reader #Kirishima #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha fanfiction #kirishima fanfic #tw: cheating #kirishima smut #bnha smut #mha smut

589 notes · View notes

captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Dark!Valkyrie and pet play, took r from midguard and chose to keep her, potential boot jumping if your comfortable if not idm COGRATS ON 1K 👏🏼👏🏼

Shout out to this anon that's waited months for this fic and never got impatient dkwksnsmwm

@romanoff062 helped me a lot with ideas so thank you bestie and some elements of the fic are inspired by @peachyteabuck 's fic And I Plead which I highly recommend y'all check out

2k words

Warnings: innocence kink, non-con/dub-con (R doesn't fully understand) forced heavy pet play, ownership, boot jumping, spanking, degrading, strap on sex, mild amnesia and kidnapping

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

New Asgard was a beautiful place. That much became apparent before you even set foot in the small town. All it took was a brief glimpse from the winding roads across the hills a few miles away and you instantly wanted to take a closer look.

You were on a road trip; had been for a while. It was a solo trip. A chance to get away from the hectic life back home and for you to figure things out. You had just graduated college and like many of your fellow students you had no idea what you were going to do next. So when you heard some people talking about a road trip, you decided you would give it a try aswell. You had a brief route planned but you ended up stopping off at a lot more places than you thought, even then none of them helped you with whatever it was you were trying to get out of that journey.

You parked up along the edge of town and grabbed your phone and wallet before getting out of the car and started towards the buildings.

It was starting to get late but there was still a fair few locals around who all waved or smiled at you as wandered around. You let the distant and lively murmer in the middle of town direct you and it wasn't long until you spotted a pub.

You knew you should have booked a place to stay for the night or few days, but you had been on the road for a while and wanted to enjoy the unique atmosphere of the town as soon as you could. Surprisingly, you weren't tired either.

A few people greeted you in the pub, clearly noting the new face, but they didn't draw too much attention to you which made you feel all the more at ease there.

You bought a beer and sent a quick text to your parents to let them know you were safe and took a sip of your beer as you admired the art work across the walls. They ranged from tapestries to paintings and even some sculptures, the likes of which you had never seen before. They had a distinct Viking style to them but with a regal touch.

"You like them?" You looked to your right to see a dark haired woman leaning on the counter besides you, nursing her own beer.

She had an easy smile on her lips that hinted at something more, as did her hazel eyes that watched you carefully. She was beautiful to say the least and it took you a moment to find the words ton respond.

"They're amazing, where are they from?" You asked as your eyes flickered away from hers, unable to hold her strong gaze.

"A very special place." Was all she said. "Valkyrie." The woman declared as she raised her bottle to yours. You smiled and tapped the top of yours against hers.

"Y/n." You replied. Valkyrie hummed.

"And what brings you to New Asgard, y/n?"

Convosation flowed between you easily from that point on. You found yourself telling the older woman a lot about yourself, more than you had ever told a stranger. You just couldn't seem to help it, she encouraged you to tell her everything and you did.

Once you realised you barely knew anything about Valkyrie the convosation took a swift turn to handsy flirtation. You didn't mind, of course, but it sure did surprise you when Valkyrie shamelessly pulled out the cliques and let her hand wander boldly up your thigh.

You were captivated by the stranger. And you wanted to experience her further, everything she had to offer you would willingly take.

You groaned quietly when you back hit the hard wall of the pub. Valkyrie pulled you into a rough, demanding kiss that you could hardly keep up with, only stopping when she pulled away begrudgingly, as though she wasn't running out of oxygen like you were.

"I want to see you come undone." She whispered lowly against your ear. You gave a whine and closed your eyes with a smile.

"Come on." Was all she said as she grabbed your hand and led you through the empty street back to her house that seemed somewhat larger than the ones around it.

You were barely through the door and she was undressing you. Her hands ran frantically over your body that was admittedly growing tired and weaker from your travels. It didn't help that everytime Valkyrie's fingertips danced across your bare skin you melted just a little more.

You whined longingly when she dipped her slender fingers through your wet folds. She glided them over your sensitive clit that was begging for any attention but she soon withdrew those torturous fingers once more.

"You want something, pet?" You head was too clouded with need to pay much attention to the nickname. You had no prior experience with anything of the sort, no real understanding of what Valkyrie had planned.

"I need you." You whined again and went to kiss her only for the older woman to chuckle and pull something out of her pocket.

She attached the collar swiftly. It was locked around your neck before you could object and even if you did, it would have been futile.

"What's this?" You asked, dumbfounded.

"Your collar. All good pets have them." Valkyrie said simply and reached her foot around the back of your legs to pull forward with her foot, making you fall to your knees with a thud.

"What does that mean?" You asked again, confusion and mild panic starting to rise.

"That you belong to me, so you better behave." Valkyrie warned before pressing her boot covered foot between your legs and pressing down on your neglected clit. You moaned despite yourself and grinded down on the polished material out of pure instinct.

You lifted your hands up to grip onto Valkyries thigh as you dragged your cunt along her boot but she slapped them away. You whined, not knowing what to do with your hands.

"Hands behind your back." Valkyrie instructed and you did so quickly, glad to have something to follow.

You built up a desperate rhythm quickly as you looked up at Valkyrie pleadingly. You needed your release badly.

"Please." You tried. Your wetness was covering her boot and you were so close to releasing everything you had onto the boot.

"No." Valkyrie defied as she yanked her boot away from you. You whined loudly and she tutted as she grabbed your collar and pulled you up to lean over the edge of her bed.

"Please make me cum." You whimpered, earning you a harsh smack to your ass.

"Pets don't speak unless spoken to. Seems like we have a lot of training ahead of us." Valkyrie said darkly. You groaned again, not knowing what the hell that meant and wanting to know what you were getting in to.

You tried to look back at her but your head was forced down into the sheets with one hand while Valkyrie's other started to undo her zip.

She pulled her jeans down and off swiftly and threw them across the room to reveal the strap on she had been hiding. This only became apparent to you when you felt the large head against your entrance, bringing out another breathy whine from you.

Valkyrie edged the tip of the strap into your less than prepared pussy and revealed in th noises it brought out in you. You squirmed against the bed and her hold but she continued to push onwards as she held you down.

It with take long for her to thrust the entirety of the the toy deep inside you, brushing against nerves that were rarely touched. With each passing second you lost more of your grip on your speech until Valkyrie pulled out only to slam the rest of the you into you.

You moaned out loudly and clung onto the bedsheets frantically as Valkyrie continued to fuck.yo7 at a brutal pace, never faltering. You were all overwhelmed with pleasure you hardly heard the dirty things the woman above you whispered into your ear. With that, it didn't take you long to get close.

"Gon cum, please!" You tried, your speech far too slurred for you even to understand luckily Valkyrie did.

"Cum for your queen." She ordered and with that, you fell over the edge. You moaned loudly as your back arched and you clenched around the toy, desperate to feel it as much as possible when you came around it.

Valkyrie didn't stop once you came, not after you came a few times either. Because while you may not have ever completely remembered the events of that day, you would sure as hell feel them for a while.

You awoke in a brightly lit room with walls that seemed to literally shine. You blinked quickly as you looked around and found yourself in a bedroom. A fucking big one.

Next to you, or more towering over you from your low position, was a Grande bed that was unnecessarily big, as though it was there for show more than comfort. The gold painted posters and luxurious pillows and covers made it the perfect image of a King's bed and had you wondering what fantasy land you had dreamed up in your head.

You looked down and furrowed your brow as you realised you were laying in large dog bed that fit you as if by measurement. It was lined with quilts and soft pillows that matched those on the bed.

You sat up in the bed and took in the rest of the room and all its glory. Long drapes hung from the ceiling and parted for an open pair of doors that led onto a sizeable balcony. With a deep breath, you got up out the bed and ventured towards it.

It was only when you left the warmth and softness of the bed that you realised you were fully nude, but there was no dresser or closet door around to provide you with any clothes. You timidly edged towards the doors and stood to the side to peer out, hoping no neighbours would get an eyefull of your vulnerable state.

It was also hard to stay oblivious to the thick black leather collar that was around your neck so tightly. There were some hazy memories it awoke in the back of your mind that you couldn't quite see.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you peered out from behind the curtain. What became apparent first was how high up you were. The balcony leaned over the whole land and let you see the whole of the city and the dark forests beyond it.

The building below you shone in the sun, gleaming boldly in a way you couldn't tear your eyes from. It was almost mythological.

"You're awake!" An excited voice exclaimed from behind you. You spun around to see the dark haired women coming through the main doors towards you.

You didn't recognise her at first, especially with the cheerful grin plastered across her face. But soon the pieces fitted together and you took a big step back away from Valkyrie.

"Don't be like that." She said with a frown, her eyes shamelessly raking over your body.

She walked towards you quicker than you could get away and gripped you collar, forcing you to your knees. "Much better." She mused as she looked down at you.

She attached the leash to your collar and gave it a tug as she strolled back to the balcony with you having no choice but to follow as she instructed.

"I've waited so long for this." She beamed as she looked out at the city. You sat by her side, your mouth and throat too dry to let you speak and feeling too scared to even try. "Finally, Asgard is back to how it should be, and with you by my side." She looked down at you with a smile and noted your confusion.

"Earth just didn't cut it." She said simply. "So we're starting over, again. We have this whole planet to ourselves and I'll make sure it stays this way." Valkyrie explained as she looked back out at the city she ruled.

"I want to go home." You piped up as you stared at the ground, too afraid to meet her gaze.

"You are home." Valkyrie said as she crouched down and lifted your chin to look at her. "I'll give you everything you could ever want." Your bottom lip trembled as you realised you really had no way out.

"All you have to do is be a good pet."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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