#so i feel like it’d be very rare for him to lean on anyone/be the metaphorical little spoon of a given gesture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halfmoth-halfman · 8 months

Text

forever is mine with you

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: cheating (reader gets cheated on) & fluff Prompt: Neighbors Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: we've got more gaz for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023 💜

January

Kyle's new neighbor moves in the day after New Year's.

He hadn’t even known his old neighbor had moved out, so rare was it that he spent time at home. He sees the moving van just as he’s returning from his morning run, slowing to a curious pace as he passes by to get into the apartment building. The van doors are wide open, revealing a few larger boxes and a long, black couch, but there’s no one around.

He knows this area is safe, that there’s very little chance of someone making off with any of the boxes–and no chance of someone getting away with the couch–but he’s a worrier at heart. So, he hovers near the entrance, pretending to be occupied on his phone while keeping an eye on the van through the large glass windows of the building.

His breath hitches in his throat the second you step into the lobby. You look positively exhausted, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings with stray pieces of your tied-up hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Deep bags run under your eyes as you blink away sleep and what Kyle suspects is remnants of a New Year’s well-spent. Despite your tired appearance, there’s a wide smile spread across your face that has his heart skipping a beat as you head out to the van and start pulling out another box.

The box could be heavy, Kyle thinks, watching you slide it across the floor of the van. It would be rude not to offer help.

He gets two steps toward the door when someone rushes past him, and a man hurries to the van to lift the box from your hands. You stick your tongue out at him and lean over the box to give him a quick kiss before you disappear into the van again. Kyle decides to wait to introduce himself and, with one last look at your grinning face, turns to head back to his flat.

February

He doesn’t see you again for a month.

It’s not that he didn’t want to properly introduce himself, he just never had the chance. It seemed the two of you were operating on different schedules, only catching small glimpses of each other like ships passing in the night.

He has one week of leave left, and Kyle intends to make every second worth it. He spends the day outside, enjoying the fresh air and treating himself to his favorite takeout. He’s reluctant to return to his flat, but the moment he steps onto his floor he can’t seem to remember why.

All of his thoughts go straight to you, and the way you’re standing outside of your door looking like something straight out of his dreams.

Not that he would ever admit to dreaming of you, of course.

You’re all dressed up, more beautiful than anyone Kyle has ever seen. Hair done and decorated with tiny pearls to match the string of pearls around your neck, makeup flawless right down to the velvet red painted on your lips, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s the dress that does him in. All crimson silk as it clings to every curve of your body, a slit in the leg that is so sinfully high.

You must feel him staring because you turn your head and meet his eyes with shocking quickness. Kyle composes himself, not wanting to be labeled as the creepy neighbor, and gives a wave with a polite, friendly smile. You smile back, almost bashful, as you shift on your feet.

Say something, he scolds himself, don’t just stare.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks once he’s managed to find his voice. You raise a brow, something like amusement crossing your face.

“Valentine’s Day?” you laugh softly with a tilt of your head.

Right. It was the 14th, wasn’t it? It’d been so long since he’d celebrated–or had someone to celebrate with–Kyle had stopped thinking about the holiday.

“Fun plans, then?” he says, nodding to your dress and trying his hardest not to stare at the way your pearl necklace dips into the deep neckline.

You shrug, and there’s a quick, nervous glance back to your door, “Not sure, yet. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Your smile falls just a bit before you overcompensate and replace it with an even bigger one, but Kyle–too observant for his own good–sees right through you.

“Not a fan of surprises?” Kyle asks before he can stop himself.

“I–”

Your door opens, and Kyle notices the way you jump at the noise. He keeps the smile on his face, but he can feel his jaw tensing as your boyfriend steps out in his crisp black suit and red tie. He ignores Kyle altogether, sliding a hand around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. The two of you exchange quiet words before he begins to guide you toward the lift.

You glance over your shoulder, giving Kyle a quick smile. You turn away before he has time to smile back, and Kyle resigns himself to a night alone.

April

He’s gone for a month, but he thinks about you every day.

He tells himself it’s curiosity, that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to know the new person living next to him. It’s all purely platonic.

He knows he’s lying.

When he finally returns home, after a draining month of blood and dry sand, he finds himself hoping to see you.

He doesn’t, not for a few days anyway. You don’t appear until he’s coming back from his morning run. He’s walking into the lobby, too busy looking at his phone, just as you’re walking out, too focused on the drink in your hand.

You collide with him, falling into a tangle of limbs and hot coffee. There’s a flurry of apologies from both ends, only worsening when Kyle notices the coffee stain on your cream sweater. You shrug it off, telling him you weren’t going anywhere important anyway, but the guilt is still there.

He knows he should make it up to you, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He offers to bring you up to his place and take one of his sweaters while he cleans yours.

Your face drops into an expression of shock, and worry courses through him, but you shake yourself out of your daze and, surprisingly, you agree.

He tries to ignore the hammering of his heart as he leads you up to his flat. You don’t seem bothered, perhaps a little too trusting, following him inside without comment.

The first thing you do is compliment his home, and Kyle feels shyness creeping up his spine. He points you to his bedroom, telling you to pick anything you want while he waits in the kitchen. He makes himself a cup of tea, trying to soothe the nerves building up in his chest.

This isn’t how he expected his day to go, but he’s not complaining. Not when you’re feet away in his bedroom, looking through his closet so you can wear one of his shirts.

She has a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop it.

No matter how much he bullies himself, Kyle can’t find it in him to care.

“Military, huh?”

Kyle looks up, ready to give some snarky retort, but he sees you wearing that worn grey sweater with his last name faded across the back and his mind stops working.

You stare at him expectantly, clearing your throat as you hold out your ruined sweater. “You alright?”

Kyle snaps out of it, taking the sweater with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He most certainly is not fine and is quick to distract himself by setting your sweater on the counter as he fills a bowl with warm water from the tap. You take a seat at the counter, watching him mix vinegar and dish-washing detergent together with an adorable curiosity.

“I had a cousin in the military,” you speak, leaning your elbows on the counter.

Kyle chuckles, taking a rag and soaking it in the bowl. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “He never had any interesting stories, though.”

Kyle glances up at you, right in time to catch you looking at him with a sly, curious smile on your face.

“I take it you think I do?” he asks, smirk pulling at his lips as he dabs at the coffee stain on your sweater with the damp rag.

“Do you?” You lean forward slightly, eager interest laced in your voice.

If you were anyone else he would say no, shut down the conversation before it could even begin. But you’re not anyone else, and all it takes is one look at those eyes for him to give in.

He keeps things vague and harmless, enough to be interesting for you without revealing any important information or going into gory detail, and you hang on to every word with a refreshing fascination. You ask thoughtful questions, laugh at his cheesy jokes, and listen with an intensity he’s rarely seen, even on base.

You urge him to continue once he’s done, pressing for more, and he’s all too happy to oblige.

You spend the entire day with him, moving from the kitchen to the living room once your sweater is coffee-free. You don’t bother changing out of Kyle’s, far too interested in what he’s saying to consider even a few minutes of distraction.

When the conversation shifts to lighter subjects, neither of you seems to mind. In fact, Kyle offers to make lunch, and you agree with a speed that has both of you laughing.

You’re so easy to talk to, Kyle finds. He would talk to you forever if you allowed it, and he hopes you feel the same. He thinks you do, judging by the way you ignore your phone every time it chimes in favor of continuing your conversation.

Eventually, the sun begins to sink behind the horizon and your phone starts ringing. You roll your eyes, answering with a calm voice despite the way your shoulders tense.

The conversation is short, and you hang up with a huff.

“I should probably get going,” you sigh, offering him an apologetic smile.

“It’s alright,” Kyle shrugs, an easy smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s not like you don’t live right next door.”

You excuse yourself to change back into your sweater and bid him goodbye with a sweet smile that almost has him begging for you to stay.

He finds his sweater folded up on the end of his bed, and his heart aches at the lingering scent of your perfume.

August

In the following months, you and Kyle become close friends.

Almost as close as he and Soap, which is saying something.

When he has to leave again, he lets you know, and you surprise him with a care package of homemade cookies and a letter the day before he leaves. You say it’s from you and your boyfriend, but you both know it isn’t; the man has actively ignored Kyle despite your best efforts to introduce them.

Soap eats most of the cookies, but Kyle doesn’t mind, too enamored with your letter. Your letter is as cute as you are, well wishes for him to come home safe, and carrying the soft scent of your perfume. He reads it almost every night, and Soap has no problem making fun of him for it.

“Some friend, ye got there,” Soap laughs. “Sure that’s all it is?”

Kyle knows what he should say.

She’s seeing someone else. We’re just friends.

But Soap gives him that knowing look, and Kyle knows he can’t continue to lie to himself.

It’s not like you’re happy with him. He’s heard you and your boyfriend fighting through the walls–voices raised, but not quite yelling–and he sees the irritation that causes you to tense when he calls or texts. You don’t smile the same when you’re with him, not like the happy carefree grin you give Kyle.

When the mission is finally finished, and Kyle is granted permission to go home, he’s made up his mind. He’s going to tell you how he feels, and let you decide where to go from there.

Or that was the plan until he knocks on your door and you answer with red eyes, obviously swollen from crying.

You don’t give him a chance to ask what’s wrong, throwing yourself into his arms as you sob into his chest. He guides you into your entryway, closing the door behind him with his boot. He calms and soothes you, cooing soft words and light kisses of comfort into your hair as he runs his hands up and down your back.

He lets you cry as long as you need to, and it takes almost an hour for you to calm down enough to tell him what’s happened.

You had come home from work two days ago to find your boyfriend with another woman in your bed. He used the excuse that you had Kyle, so it was only fair that he got to get some for himself too. You had screamed and yelled and raged, throwing him out that same day as he spewed obscenities at you.

The crying starts again, and Kyle is quick to calm you, assuring you that everything’s going to be alright.

“Didn’t need him anyway,” he huffs.

“Yeah, fuck him,” you pout, and Kyle agrees wholeheartedly.

The wallowing takes its toll on you, cries shifting to a long yawn as your eyes begin to droop. You lean your head on his shoulder, body sagging against the solid weight of him. Kyle urges you to get some sleep, offering to take the couch if you need him there.

“No,” you mumble. “I can’t sleep here. Not in that bed.”

If he were a better man, he’d suggest the couch while he slept on the floor.

Instead, he leads you next door, straight to his bed, where he helps tuck you in. Your eyes shut the moment your head hits the pillow, and something tugs at his heat when you subconsciously curl into his blankets.

He turns to leave and let you have your much-needed rest, but the moment he does, your hand reaches out and wraps around his. You blink at him, eyes wide and sad, and whisper into the room, “Stay.”

And in that moment, Kyle knows he’ll never be able to deny you anything.

December

Kyle insists on taking time for yourself and letting you properly heal before jumping right into things with him.

He’s frustratingly right, and you appreciate his concern for you, but that doesn’t change how much you feel for him.

Your now ex-boyfriend had been right to an extent; you certainly felt things for Kyle you hadn’t felt for him in a long time. Of course, you never acted on those feelings–unlike him–staying close to Kyle while keeping things platonic.

You’d seen it coming for a while, if you were honest with yourself. The new place was a temporary fix, a flimsy band-aid slapped over an ever-growing crack in the glass of an aquarium. You knew you deserved better than his dependency and weaponized incompetence.

You knew the flood was imminent, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

But now he’s gone, and while you know you need time to recover, it’s hard to concentrate when Kyle hands you a key to his flat and tells you you’re welcome anytime.

You try to tell him you’re fine, that the ending of your relationship had been more like a weight lifting from your shoulders, but he insists you take at least two weeks and one therapy visit before making your decision.

You oblige, and you have to admit he knows what he’s talking about. When the two weeks are up, you tell him you need more time, ignoring the smug grin on his face. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t taunt you with an I told you so, but you can see it in his eyes. He does tell you he’s proud of you, and you ride the high that gives you all the way to your next therapist visit.

Kyle leaves in the last week of August, letting you spend his last night with him in his bed. He doesn’t make a move on you, simply holding you close while murmuring impossible promises of safety and success to your sleeping form.

It’s agony waiting for him to return, never knowing what could be happening to him while you’re safe and sound in the comfort of his home. The space is good for you, though. It gives you time to process things, to really talk through your emotions and concerns with your wonderfully patient therapist.

You’ve barely been in your own home in the past few months, the anxiety and betrayal that stalks the halls too much for you to handle, and she helps you realize that you need to make some changes.

So, when Kyle returns at the end of November, he finds you in his kitchen, dancing along to a song on your phone as you cook something that smells positively delicious.

He’s content to watch you, welcoming the sight of you after a long and tedious mission.

It’s something he could get used to coming home to.

When you finally notice him, it only takes a second for the realization to hit you before you’re leaping into his arms with an excited cheer. Kyle wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can, welcoming your familiar warmth and scent. He tries to lean forward to tuck his face into your neck, but you stop him, placing your hands on his jaw.

He stares at you curiously, watching your eyes dip down to his mouth before you pull him forward to close the gap. A year’s worth of swallowed emotions pour into the kiss, and when you pull away, Kyle chases after you to kiss you again.

You spend the rest of the night attached to one another. Kyle “helps” you cook, keeping his hands on your hips as he peppers smiling kisses and gentle nips down your neck. You push him away with sweet giggles, but he always comes back seconds later.

When dinner’s done and eaten, he pulls you to the couch into his lap, so he can continue smothering you in kisses. You meet him kiss for kiss, unable to get enough of him. It takes nearly an hour before you’re able to separate yourself from him to give him your news.

“I’m not renewing my lease,” you murmur against his kiss-swollen lips, a shy glance up to look him in his beautiful, brown eyes. “Figured I should look for a new place that isn’t littered with memories of that bastard.”

Kyle hums thoughtfully, trailing kisses along your cheek. “Plenty of room here.”

You click your tongue, laying a hand on his cheek to turn his face to look directly at you. “Kyle–”

“It’s not like that’s not where this was going anyway, right?” He gives you another chaste kiss and a cheeky smile. “You already have a key. Might as well–”

“Make it official?” you laugh.

“Exactly.”

You let out a long, exaggerated sigh with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Fine, you’ve managed to convince me–”

You don’t get to finish, as Kyle cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss.

January

After a long night of celebrating and congratulations from his teammates, Kyle’s girlfriend officially moves in the day after New Year’s.

#gazfest #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #mw fics #moth writes #tw: cheating #private

493 notes · View notes

clusterbuck · 1 year

Text

i wanna roll with him

6x13 poker spec

Buck let Bobby talk him into going undercover at an underground poker game with Eddie because it’s not like he has anything better to do.

He lets Eddie talk him into pretending that they’re dating because sometimes his mouth says things before his brain has a chance to catch up.

“It just makes sense,” Eddie is saying as they drive to the club. “It’ll be less suspicious.”

“Suspicious how?” Buck asks, though he’s already said yes.

“Like—if we need to talk about the marks,” Eddie says. “Couples whisper to each other all the time, so it won’t be weird.”

Buck tries to fight the shiver that runs through him at the thought of Eddie whispering in his ear, Eddie’s lips brushing against his skin and his warm breath fanning over his neck. He’s on edge already, tormented by the suit Eddie wears like it was painted on him, and now he’s supposed to survive an entire night of Eddie pretending to be his boyfriend?

He must stay silent for longer than intended, because Eddie looks over at him from the passenger seat. “What, you worried I’m going to kiss you or something?”

Please do, Buck thinks, but this time he manages to catch the words before they slip out of his mouth. “You think you’ll be able to resist?” he asks instead, and Eddie laughs, but when Buck glances over at him there’s something dark gleaming in his eyes.

“Maybe you’re the one who won’t be able to resist me,” Eddie says as Buck pulls up to a parking spot and cuts the engine.

As they climb out of the car, Buck realises Eddie never said he wouldn’t kiss him.

The game is unlike anything Buck’s ever seen. He’s sat at poker tables all the way across the country, from coast to coast and down in Peru, too, but they were all the same kind of temporary as Buck’s entire life was back then. They were games set up at corner tables in a seedy bar, at beaches and in living rooms and once in the back up a pickup truck. They rarely played with actual chips, and sometimes not even money, just a barter system of favours won back and forth until everyone had what they need.

This is not that. This is a table in the basement of a gentlemen’s club, the kind Buck thought didn’t even exist anymore. Not in southern California, at least. This is a table upholstered in emerald velvet, carved out of a wood Buck can’t identify as anything other than expensive. This is sleek ceramic chips clacking against each other as they move in piles that could cover Buck’s entire rent, tossed around like milk money.

Beside him, Eddie must be coming to the same realisations, because he lets out a low whistle.

“Eddie, is this—” Buck murmurs, then remembers what Eddie had said about the suspicion and the whispering. He leans in, his mouth just below Eddie’s ear. “These guys look like they mean business. Pretty sure I’m Little League in comparison.”

“It’ll be fine,” Eddie whispers back, and Buck only startles a little when Eddie’s hand comes to rest on the small of his back. “We don’t have to win, right? Just get to know them.”

“Won’t it be suspicious, though?” Buck asks. “Don’t you have to be good to get into a game like this?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, then one side of his mouth tugs up in a flicker of a grin. “In the movies,” he says, “When the main guy goes undercover like this. If he brings his girl, the girl doesn’t play the game. She just sits on his lap and watches.”

Heat rushes up the back of Buck’s neck, and he’s pretty sure Eddie can feel it as it spreads across his cheeks. “You want me to sit on your lap?”

“That part’s up to you,” Eddie says, then turns his head so his lips land right next to Buck’s. To anyone watching, it’d look just like a real kiss.

—

It turns out to be a very good thing Buck had chickened out of playing. He’d been right about these people being much better than he is, for one, but the bigger issue is that three rounds into the game he’s still thinking about Eddie’s lips on his skin.

He’s not on Eddie’s lap, but it’s close. They’re pressed right up against each other, Eddie’s ankle hooked around his, so far into each other’s space that Buck can practically feel Eddie’s ribs move as he breathes.

The other players had looked at them a little funny when Eddie had said only he would be playing, but understanding dawned upon them when Eddie had called him his good luck charm.

“Never seen a six-foot good luck charm,” the woman at the head of the table said, and Buck, still distracted by the fact that Eddie had just kissed him, scraped together just enough brainpower to smile and say “Actually, I’m six foot two.”

There’d been a round of polite laughter, and no one else had challenged him.

And Buck knows they’re not actually here to play poker, that he’s supposed to be getting to know the people opposite him so he can report back to Bobby, but there’s something about Eddie tonight that makes it hard for Buck to take his eyes off him.

Eddie’s like a different person at this poker table, starting from the set of his shoulders and the way a hint of a Texas drawl slips into his speech. Buck’s fascinated, but it’s almost disturbing, like he’s looking at Eddie in a funhouse mirror.

Then Eddie will look at him, and for that split second he is Buck’s Eddie again, the man Buck knows better than he knows himself. And it’s enough to reassure him that no matter how far away from himself Eddie gets, his Eddie is always in there.

It starts to get a little complicated when Eddie starts flirting. Because he’s been teasing the two sides apart all night, but when Eddie looks at him and winks, Buck can’t tell which Eddie it is. When Eddie leans over to press his lips to the curve of Buck’s jaw, he can barely remember his own name, let alone that Eddie is playing a character tonight.

Eddie’s hand is on his thigh, and Buck can’t take it any longer. “Wait a minute and then meet me in the bathroom,” he murmurs into Eddie’s ear, then flashes the other players a quick smile and a nature calls.

He hopes the fact that he’s half hard isn’t visible through his pants.

In the bathroom, Buck takes a deep breath and tries to organise his overheated thoughts into words he can say to Eddie. Words like what the fuck are you doing and can you please cool it before I do something we’ll both regret.

But when Eddie comes into the bathroom, Buck doesn’t have time to say any of these words. Because Eddie walks in with a look Buck has never seen on him, and within moments Eddie’s hands are on Buck’s waist and Eddie kisses him.

Really, truly kisses him, not just on the cheek and not just for show. Eddie’s lips are warm against his and open for him almost immediately, and he tastes like the bourbon he’d been nursing at the poker table.

Buck stands still for just one stunned second, then he’s reaching for Eddie, for any part of him just to hold on. He feels desperate, frantic and uncoordinated, but Eddie rocks against him and Buck finds Eddie is just as desperate as he is.

“Thank fuck you didn’t actually sit on my lap,” Eddie mumbles between gasped-out breaths. “I’d have come in my pants.”

“Maybe I’d have liked that,” Buck counters, breathless, and Eddie groans.

“You can’t—can’t just say things like that,” he says, then ducks his head to mouth at Buck’s jaw like he’s trying to leave a mark.

“Then do something about it,” Buck says. Eddie looks up at him, eyes dark and pupils wide, then puts his hands on Buck’s hips and steers him into the nearest stall. The door slams shut, and Eddie pushes Buck up against it and starts fumbling with the fly of Buck’s pants.

“Well, if you’re asking,” he murmurs, returning his mouth to Buck’s jaw. Then his hand wraps around Buck’s cock, so strong and sure it makes Buck a little weak in the knees, and he starts to move—

Buck wakes up panting, thrusting desperately against his mattress. For a groggy moment he isn’t sure what woke him, then, on the bed next to his face, his phone chimes again and the screen lights up.

Here’s the address for tonight, the first text from Bobby reads. The second one just says Dress nice.

And for a moment Buck is confused, but then it hits him.

The real undercover poker game isn’t until tonight.

He’s so fucked.

#who let me write poker spec i was supposed to write something else today #911 fic #911 6x13 #buddie #buddie fic #shush emma #emma writes

485 notes · View notes

tf2-hellhole · 3 years

Note

Could I request some headcanons for what the mercs would be like crying in front of their s/o? Or what it would take to get them to?

Scout:

It’d have to take him getting really, really angry or frustrated. Typically the only things that will push him this far are embarrassing himself really badly, losing a match, or somebody insulting him about something that he’s really sensitive about (like his lack of a dad, or if they tore him down about his appearance).

When he cries, he runs off somewhere to sit in a dark corner and bury his face in his knees, because he doesn’t want anyone to see him. When you come to see if he’s alright, he yells at you to leave, but makes no physical effort to force you. He still doesn’t do anything when you wrap your arms around him; in fact, after a while, the tension in his body leaves and he kinda slumps into your arms, burying his face in your chest or shoulder.

Soldier:

Solly is a person that you’d never expect to cry. Typically, he never does, because insults go over his head and he typically just demolishes a punching bag when he’s emotional. But he can come incredibly distraught when thinking about his early experiences in war.

When he feels like he’s about to cry, he locks himself in his room. He’d get angry at anyone who knocks on his door, except you, of course. When you knock, he opens the door wordlessly and captures you in a tight hug. He holds you close and buries his face in your shoulder, almost like an upset toddler. Usually, he’s never been able to talk about things that make him upset without getting brushed off, so getting held and being allowed to talk things out makes him feel a lot better.

Pyro:

I can’t really imagine Pyro as being much of a crier????? Like, maybe they’d cry if you were really upset with them, but that’s about it.

I guess that when they cry, they typically just sit by themselves, softly but audibly sniffling under the mask. If you ask them what’s wrong, they don’t answer, but if you come close, they’ll rest their head on your shoulder and tightly grip your hand. They’re back to normal in a few hours, but they don’t wanna talk about the crying and will disregard it if you bring it up.

Demo:

If he’s drunk, he constantly cries over things that are often random and unimportant. When he’s sober, he usually gets frustrated or angry rather than sad, so he’d only cry about something huge like losing his mom. Also, he’s quite touch and affection starved, so give him gentle affection when he’s upset or stressed- might make him get emotional and tear up a lot.

The way he gets emotional when he receives affection is actually quite cute. He’s big on affection and initiates it 99.9% of the time, so it’s a surprise to him that you would actively seek out affection from him and initiate it. He gets a little flustered and has the cutest nervous smile, but he melts into your arms and cuddles close like a happy cat, puts his head on your shoulder, and wipes his eye and cheek behind your back.

Heavy:

Heavy likes to present himself like he doesn’t get scared or sad or upset, but he does, he just hides it and uses healthy ways of coping or releasing emotion. So it’s very rare for him to cry, especially around other people, even his family. It’d have to take something extremely impactful, like the loss of a family member, to make him cry in front of other people.

When he cries, he does it quietly and by himself. When you find him by accident, he says nothing and just looks away, but he doesn’t try to stop you when you approach him. You reach up and touch his cheeks wordlessly, acknowledging that he clearly doesn’t want to talk. He only looks up at you for a moment before pulling you into a gentle hug, taking in the warmth and comfort of your body.

Engineer:

I don’t actually think Engineer is much of a crier either? His emotions probably come out as anger and frustration (which is obviously never taken out on you). I can imagine that he might cry after losing a loved one. And he’s a very patient and well-tempered person, but I think a very, very long string of failures with inventions might make him angry-cry.

When you find him crying, he wipes his eyes and hangs his head, refusing to look at you. But when you approach him and try to comfort him, he weakly complies and lets himself get wrapped in a hug. If you ask him to, he rants his heart out. Once he calms down, he pulls away, wipes his eyes again, and gives you a weak smile, clearly grateful for the comfort. “Look at me, moping and crying like a child,” he says with a soft, breathless chuckle.

Medic:

Saying that Medic’s childhood was rough is an understatement. He tends to ignore that part of his life and doesn’t talk about it/won’t ever elaborate, but sometimes he can’t avoid bad dreams and scary memories. They tend to stress him out a lot and take him back to the roughest events of his life, so of course he tends to cry after one of these flashbacks.

When he has these memories, he tends to hole up in his lab or his quarters, as it often comes with a bad mental crash. Another mercenaries had mentioned that he seemed out of it earlier, so you went to go check on him, and you found him an exhausted and miserable mess. He immediately crushed you in a hug, crying into your shoulder or cheek. Your body’s warmth and your voice really helps ground him and calm him down. Over a little while, he relaxes a bit and practically melts into you, maybe even falling asleep, but not before he manages to softly thank you for staying with him and comforting him.

Sniper:

Sniper doesn’t seem like much of a crier, and he’s typically not. But he spent a lot of time crying his eyes out until alcohol made him numb in the first few months after his parents’ death. And, like Demo, a lot of affection could easily make him emotional and cry a little because he’s so unbelievably touch starved.

One time, you find him in his quarters (no I don’t think he lives in the van), clearly having a bad day. You sit down next to him and stroke his back, asking him whats wrong. “Nothin’. Just a long day,” he responds weakly. When you reach up to touch his face and comfort him, he jumps a bit in surprise, being unused to people touching his face, but he leans into your hand and closes his eyes. For a moment, you didn’t even realize he was starting to cry, but he sniffles loudly and his eyes are wet when he opens them. He still gives you a soft smile, grateful for the comfort.

Spy:

Basically never cries because he’s excellent at bottling up every emotion he feels and acting like everything is okay. Even losing a loved one wouldn’t make him cry, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not absolutely traumatized and heartbroken; He just doesn’t show it externally. The only thing that could make him cry is a loved one trying to help him improve his mental state- of course, letting out his feelings is an incredibly important part. He strongly resists their attempts for a long time, but seeing how worried they are about him and how much they care makes him fall apart.

He just randomly starts crying in the middle of a conversation about you trying to help him mentally heal. Like, all of a sudden, he buries his face in his hand and sniffles softly. He lets you hug and comfort him, but he hides his face out of shame as he silently sobs into his hand.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 imagines #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x you #tf2 x s/o #tf2 x y/n #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy

699 notes · View notes

spilledkauffie · 3 years

Text

SFW (Fluff) Alphabet · Zemo

List made by @caitlinpotter || Sorry I’ve been so absent this week; I promise I have content for the weekend!

*xFemale!Reader || NSFW Alphabet ❤︎

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Quite affectionate— he loves giving you affection, and it’s all across the board with him. It can be from soft sweet touches to actual affectionate actions done for you.

Full HC list on this soon! ✧

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

Literally the best— for starters he’s super loyal, because if you’re truly friends with him he’s not giving up on you easily. Your friendship wasn’t exactly easy to get to, mostly thanks to his profession, but once you’re in, you’re in.

100% defensive of you— anyone tries to come at you in any negative way, he’s got a comeback to absolutely destroy them. Also, having someone of his reputation around can be beneficial for when you want to be left alone, as he seems to intimidate people a little bit.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

When you cuddle him— he loves it when you just come over without saying a word and cuddle up next to him, he doesn’t ask questions he just lets you get as close and be as cute as you want. Sometimes he has to chuckle at just how physically needy you are, like absolutely burying your face against his back, nuzzling softly, with your arms around him in an attempt to get his attention / also loves waking up to you cuddled right up against him.

When he cuddles you— he can just tell when you need it, so often times he reaches out for your hands with a “come on, come here,” naturally, you give in, he pulls you into a hug, slightly rocking you back and forth. It’s a lot of soft touches and feathery kisses.

↳ if you’re lying on your stomach, he’ll lie down with you. Resting his head on the small of your back, brushing his fingers across or down your back, sometimes he places soft kisses against your skin, which always gets your attention. You either: 1). turn on to your side, he hooks and arm between you legs and uses your thigh as a pillow. 2). you lay on your back, letting him rest against your stomach, gradually he makes his way up to give the corner of your lips a kiss.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?)

For sure— it’s not long before you’re practically living with him. Now that you’re in his life, he wants you around for everyday life; what is his very soon becomes yours. You picked up on it when he started to suggest “why don’t you stay here... tonight? And maybe tomorrow?” more often.

Around the house— he’s quite casual. You never feel expected to get up at a certain hour (regardless that he gets up early), you’re never expected to be downstairs and dressed immediately, it’s more of a calm atmosphere that lets you wake up. You don’t constantly have to be around each other, he knows space is important. Sometimes it’s just doing your own things in the same room in silence together. Despite the status of Baron, he behaves like your average individual around the house, he likes to do things himself.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It’s actually really hard for him— it’d have to be in person though, as hard as it would be. For starters it would take a lot for him to actually call it over, he’s extremely patient and an expert at working things out with you, because he truly doesn’t want to it end.

↳ a most likely situation for ending it would be that he can’t guarantee your safety due to whatever he’s getting himself into, and he’d rather make the call to let you go than to have no choice in truly losing you because of his own dangerous choices.

He’d leave it open though— sitting across from him, you stay quiet after both coming to the conclusion that it’s over. However, he leaves you with: “if you ever need anything, in any way. . .” you nod, a few tears falling as you stay silent, staring forward. Coming over to you, he softly wipes a tear away, kissing your temple, whispering, “I’m sorry,” before walking away.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’s definitely committed in the relationship— ring or no ring, if you’re in a relationship with him he’s all in, not the type of person to just have a fling here and there. It’s total dedication to you, and you only.

Considering he’s done it once before—there’s a lot of past memories surrounding the topic of marriage for him, which is why there’s probably going to be a good amount of time together before any proposal. He just wants to be sure, plus there needs to be time to talk everything out before rushing into anything.

↳ when the time does come though, it’s a mad romantic, but personal proposal, with the most gorgeous ring in the world.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically— he’s super soft with you. He never wants to startle you, it’s always what you’re comfortable with. Touches are more than just flirtatious with him, they can be comforting, encouraging, supporting, etc. (He also knows what you’re not comfortable with as well so he can avoid it)

Emotionally— it’s a little more complicated. With your emotions he’s super gentle and understanding, always. He listens to anything and everything you say or just need to vent. He doesn’t interrupt and only gives his thoughts when you ask for them. He never intends to hurt you feeling either, he’s very careful. However, with his own emotions however, he’s a little harsher. He doesn’t really like to show any of the more complicated emotions. And doesn’t always give himself much grace for feeling certain ways, he tends to repress.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

Only from you— he doesn’t really like other people getting friendly, unless he really really knows them, even then it’s different. He doesn’t get physical with other people unless it’s a “move— you’re in my way,” situation, but that doesn’t count as friendly.

Extremely handsy— he love to bring his arms around you, so he can completely hold you whilst hugging you. Whether it’s around your waist, shoulders, hips, etc., just depends how the hug is done. He also tends to stroke his hands when hugging you, up and down your arms, back, sides, thighs, wherever.

↳ he likes to nuzzle against your neck, during front or back hugs, with the bridge of his nose, or his lips. He also gives tender kisses while he has you so close. Not kisses with other intentions, just sweet loving kisses that make you smile. Sometimes he brings his hand under your jaw, to tilt your head just enough so he can kiss your lips.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes time, but it’s not forever— when he knows he will tell you with no hesitation. He doesn’t debate telling you or worry about it being too bold, nope, he means it when he says it and he says it when he means it.

He also says it in different ways— it’s not always “those three words,” through his gestures and other phrases you hear I love you a lot.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Not if it’s someone you’ve known before him— he’s not intimidated by pervious friendships that predate your relationship.

When people flirt with you knowing he’s with you— he gets real jealous, real fast. Given that fancy occasions are kind of a routine thing, you’re around a lot of other people who want to flirt with you, and often do pretty openly. It’s rare that Zemo ever leaves your side, which helps, but that doesn’t stop people from trying, which he hates. Typically he just tries to keep you physically near, so he can be there to prevent it.

↳ one time he left to get you a drink and an old rival of his found you. Trying to be polite you remained in conversation, feeling fine until he caressed your shoulder. Almost immediately Zemo was back at your side. Handing you your drink civilly, with a “here you are, Darling,” he then glared at the man standing across from you. Not so subtly, Zemo slipped his arm around you, literally pushing off the unwanted hand and replacing it with his own. You leaned into him more, attempting to make a point, as Zemo continued giving a half smile half glare.

He doesn’t do much about it in aftermath— he’ll calmly admit to you that he was jealous, but he also gets you with “I understand why people want to talk, flirt, and be with you,” he shrugs, “you’re beautiful, they’d have to be blind not to see that, but yes,” he tilts his head, “but. . . I have to admit, there’s part of me that wants that only to myself, of course.” It makes you smile how calm he tries to keep himself, despite the frustration. It’s usually you who actually does anything after these type of conversations though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Lightly running fingers up your neck— when he’s kissing you, he traces his fingers slowly up the side of your neck, until he reaches your jaw, there he strokes his thumb across your jawline.

Holding your hand— sometimes when you’re flirting with him, you like to get as close as possible without touching, he knows the game and subtly slips his fingers between yours, then he goes in for the kiss. He can feel your smile and your hands hold his tighter as you give in.

Hand kisses— he gives these whenever, wherever, and however often he can. It’s a cute way of showing affection in a very classy way. He uses them as hello / goodbye greetings, although typically you require more than a kiss on the hand for saying goodbye.

Soft, but turns into more— it starts out as a super sweet gentle kiss, but slowly you can feel it deepen, to which you usually break the kiss with a smile, “Helmut,” you laugh, holding onto his arms around you, as he moves his mouth to your neck, “I don’t have time for this,” you try to stop giggling.

As for himself— he loves the taste of you lips, so every time you kiss him, he adores it. However, there is a sweet spot at the base of his neck, that when you kiss there makes him stop mid sentence.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Fantastic— he’s actually perfect with kids. Maybe it’s past experience that plays into it, but he’s so sweet with kids. When they accidentally run into him, he gives a “be careful, little one,” before stepping out of their way. Something you’ve noticed is that he talks to them like they’re little adults, which is adorable.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Staying in bed— one way or another one of you convinces the other to stay in bed. Sometimes it’s him asking you to stay just a little bit longer, when you can’t, he understands and watches you get dressed, asking what your day looks like. / Other times it’s you compelling him that it’d be more fun to stay and cuddle with you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Relaxing— it’s a calm, safe, and warm environment when you can both just relax from the day in each other’s arms. Sometimes you’ll lean back against him and ask what he’s reading, when he says Machiavelli, you smile and get cozy, “perfect, that sends me right off,” you close your eyes as he begins to read aloud.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s not an open book— there’s a lot of history with him, some good, but also some bad. Even before the whole campaign to end Super Soldiers, he has a bit of a shady past, with his own military exploits. Some he’s made amends with, others he hasn’t.

Depends how much you already know— if you already know a good amount about him, 1). he’ll ask to even the playing field, so he can know you equally as well 2). he doesn’t mind you asking questions since you’re already aware of his general history.

Surface level stuff— interests, fascinations, favourite this-or-thats, he’s pretty open about though! He doesn’t mind sharing or talking about any of the casual topics about himself, it’s just the more personal stuff that takes time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He’s extremely patient— The only way you would know is by a facial expression. His looks give him away more than his words or attitude does.

↳ if you’re not getting along, he’s the first to apologise, and it’s not an “I’m sorry” end of conversation apology. It’s a well thought out apology, because you don’t argue about the little stuff, it’d have to be something big to get you at odds for a while.

Silently frustrated— even if he gets mad, he keeps his cool in circumstances. Never raises his voice, his tone just gets a little deeper.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything— seriously, he does not forget anything. You’re his number one priority, so of course he pays attention. Even if there’s something you just mention at random, he’ll remember it. Say you mention how you used to have/like/want something, there’s a good chance it’s showing up again.

He also asks— he’s genuinely curious about you and wants to know as much as he can about the person he’s in love with. So, he loves childhood stories, random details, and little quirks about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The moment you said those three words— when you know everything about him, his past, his lifestyle, and you still decided to say I love you. And you still standing by it even though it meant waiting for him.

He also loves remembering the first time he saw you— he says he could never forget it, it was like a divine beauty just walked in.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Veryyy— he’s extremely protective of you, but not overbearing, he’s good a being distantly or subtly protective. In other words in public / at events / new places he keeps an eye on you, even if it’s from a distance.

He will literally do anything— there’s no limit with how far he’d go to protect you from anything or anyone, even if he knows he’s outmatched, he’ll find a way.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates— he puts a lot of effort into them, mainly trying to make it a perfect yet comfortable setting. So if you like quiet restaurants, that’s what he’ll find. If you like outdoors, he’ll find a stunning walkthrough garden, etc.

Celebrations— it’s always extravagant and grand and beautiful whenever you’re celebrating anything with him. He wants you to feel like the royalty he believes you are.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

How easy criminal life is for him lol— you love the fact that he surprised you with a real classic art piece for your birthday, but the exact details on how he got it isn’t as pretty. You frequently ask if there’s any other way he could make a living.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not vain— despite the fancy and classy lifestyle, he’s never thought himself as an individual of great beauty. He likes beautiful things, which is why he says he was so attracted to you, but personally he doesn’t think much of himself.

He cares though— it’s not like he doesn’t care whatsoever, which is why he’ll usually ask you “what do you think of this?” in regards to fashion. He wants to look nice for you, and he knows how to do that. But he’s not the guy to check himself in the mirror, or constantly fret about his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He doesn’t need a relationship— but that’s what makes your so special. Since he’s not the type to just constantly need someone to feel complete, the fact that he does need you make you and your relationship all the more important to him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He can crash literally anywhere— you’ve found him on the couch, on the floor, in a chair, and you have no idea why it’s a habit of his, but it is! And you have definitely addressed him about it before.

↳ walking in to his study, you found him asleep on the floor between the couch and coffee table, shaking your head and crouching down, you woke him up. Looking up to you, you asked, “Helmut, why are you sleeping on the floor?” / “Hmm- wh- I’m not on the floor, you’re on the floor,” he states sitting up, brining you into a hug with him.

745 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

together | myg

pairing: min yoongi x singlemother!reader

genre: fluff, very soft fluff, domesticity

words: 5, 007

summary: min yoongi is a good man but even a better father ... figure

“Baby … what did we say about boundaries?” You crouch down to reach Jihoon’s eye level and the mini you—as said by your friends—simply ignores your oncoming lecture by staring at his feet.

“Limits …” He mumbles softly and all you want to do is hug him and tell him he can do no wrong but motherhood is tough despite all the online blogs telling you that they’re with you. You loved your baby, you really did—but God decided to fuck with you by making him the reflection of yourself when you were younger and you heard nightmarish stories from your parents from when you were growing up.

You run your hand over his hair soothingly because as much as he was like you, he was still only two years old and his own person, fluff and bread arms. You knew not to restrain him with furrowed brows or raised voices but instead with the patience your parents always taught you to have and the compassion that you wished you were naturally blessed with. But life had a funny way of taking away things from you.

Well—your ex-husband was never really taken from you—he left you, and instead of feeling shambled and distraught you were made of such resolve that you merely blinked when he packed his bags after he said he was cheating on you. The only sweat you broke was realising that Jihoon was only three months old when his dad left without sparing him another glance.

But your baby grew up and so did you. Your job at office paid well enough for you to live comfortably with Jihoon and hire nannies to look after him whenever you couldn’t; even though you tried your best to always be with him so he wouldn’t grow up resenting an absent mother. But you worried like anyone else would because while your friends and family would say you were doing an impeccable job, your self-sabotaging tendencies nagged at yourself by saying that he needed a male figure in his life.

He mumbles a soft apology, so respectful with his big eyes and you smile at him. You knew he meant no harm when storming into your office and scrambling off with important documents because he was still impressionable and curious about nearly everything. Your heart dropped when you realised your reports were pretty much incoherent with the way he doodled over them but you knew not to blame him.

“Forgiven Hoon.” You kiss his forehead.

His eyes turn into tiny slits with his toothless smile and your heart clenches at the little human you created and love dearly.

“Love you mama.” He plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek before waddling off to his playpen where his toys are laid neatly. If there was anything he inherited from you; it’d be your meticulous tendencies.

You sigh, leaning into the wall of your kitchen as you watch Jihoon with fond eyes as he plays with his dolls and figurines, dressing them in dresses and pants just like how you taught him that gender had no look and that everyone was different. Obviously, explaining the concept of social constructs to a two-year-old is not a conversation any parent would have with their child but you believed that these fundamental core values of humanity were important to his growth into his toddler stages and eventually adulthood.

“I can’t believe you squeezed that cutie out of your vagina.” Taehyung snorts, sneaking up behind you and you don’t flinch because you’re way too used to his unwanted comments and sudden appearances.

“I am 90% cute so it’s only right that my child inherits that from me.” You retort, eyes still trained on your baby boy.

Taehyung looks over at Jihoon who directs a mini-play of a loving family, and your heart is still sad at the prospect of his adolescent years only being with you.

“You know … hyung is asking about you,” Taehyung says and you immediately still in your position, hands freezing in your pockets because you know exactly who he’s referring too and you weren’t exactly ready for that conversation, especially with your older brother.

“He says he misses Hoonie.”

You sigh, turning your head to face your older brother and you can only muster enough emotion to look fine with his statement but you simply looked constipated with the way your face scrunches up.

“We’ve been busy …” You mutter.

“Jihoon is two-years-old and the only thing he’s busy with is trying not to give you a heart attack every time he nearly runs into the wall and you literally work from home now that your boss is some progressive liberal that tries a new system every two days,” Taehyung says dryly, pinning you with a deadpan.

“Stop offending me by insulting my son!” You whine.

“That’s my nephew too.” He rolls his eyes as you punch him in the shoulder.

“That has a name and it’s Jihoon you bitch.”

“Mama said beech?” Jihoon tilts his head in a curious manner and your expression morphs into one of mortification as Taehyung cackles in response.

“Stop. Laughing.” You hiss but it’s no use because your brother has never once listened to anything you had to say throughout the last twenty-nine years of your life.

“You—” Your snide is cut short by rapt knocks on your door, and you see Taehyung’s grin widen. You know that look intimately because it’s the expression he wears before he pisses you off or embarrasses you.

“He’s here!” He sounds delighted as he skips towards the door. You want to pull his back by his collar to ask him what the fuck he was talking about but he’s quick with his hands and the door is open. Your mouth falls and you nearly get whiplash with the way that you stare at your guest.

“Y-Yoongi.” He was possibly the last person you wanted to see and you had no idea what he was doing at your apartment at night on a weekday.

Then you see Taehyung’s pleased expression and put two-and-two together.

“___, hey. Taehyung said you needed help with Hoon tonight?” He offers a tilt of his lips because Yoongi was not an expressive man by any means. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a good heart; that was far from the truth of the enigma that was Min Yoongi.

He was a good person and an even better friend. Although the two of you had tip-toed on the line between friends to something more than that, he never explicitly said anything about his interests to you. And you didn’t want to pressure him by saying anything because even though he was in his thirties and still very much single with a stable job as a surgeon at the top hospital, a two-year-old son is rarely what a man that appealing ever wants when looking for a relationship.

That was why you stopped replying to his texts or inviting him over to hang out with Jihoon anymore because Jihoon adored him so much and your poor heart couldn’t bear to see the two boys interact without an ugly flower called hope bloom in your chest. He only ever knew who you were because he and Taehyung were co-workers and probably only tolerated you by association.

You loved Jihoon and wanted the best for him. Even if that was Min Yoongi—you needed to protect your heart too.

“I did?” You tilt your head and Yoongi automatically notices the habit that you and Jihoon share. Taehyung is somehow next to you already and you know that because he stomps on your foot and shoots you a glare when you hiss.

“I did.” You cough.

“Mama?” Jihoon peeks his head through the divider between the kitchen and the common area, and his eyes immediately light up when he sees Yoongi hovering by the entrance.

“Yoongi!” He squeals as he speeds as fast as he can with his little feet towards the man in his scrubs who shoots your son with his gummy smile.

“Hey, buddy.” He picks your son up effortlessly and you know you’re staring but you rarely ever see men who are this patient let alone this good with children.

“Close your lips,” Taehyung whispers into your ear.

“I’m—that’s not what was happening …” You mumble, a blush appearing on your cheeks as you look away from the hugs and kisses that Yoongi gives Jihoon.

“I meant your other ones.” Your brother says dryly.

“Kim Taehyung—!” Your arms are already reaching for his neck to strangle him but Yoongi calling your name snaps you out of your anger.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?”

Your head snaps to Yoongi who now has Jihoon on his hip while he plays with the material of his scrubs. You hate how your heart flutters at the domesticity of the question and how Yoongi looks so much like a father to your son and a husband in your home.

You realise the dangerous daydream you’re falling into and shake your head to snap out of it before you hurt yourself even more.

“Us? No, we haven’t. Tae and I were planning to order in at our favourite place.” You tell Yoongi with a small smile.

You see the hint of a frown marring on his face but it goes as quick as it comes as he stalks towards you.

“Actually—” Taehyung cuts in before Yoongi can say anything, “—I have a … thing.”

He points his thumb towards the door and you curse him in your head so much that you hoped sibling telepathy was a thing so he could hear what you felt about him right now.

“You … do?” Yoongi asks.

Taehyung shrugs, as ambiguous as ever before ruffling Jihoon’s hair and offering a fist bump and a kiss before he approaches your door.

“Taehyung—” You grit.

“Bye, buddy! Yoongi.” He acknowledges the two other boys but not you and you know it’s because while Taehyung loved to annoy you, he knew you were a handful and quite literally the spawn of satan when you were angry and you weren’t just angry but livid.

“Get back here—!” And he’s gone before you know it, and even Jihoon mumbles a soft bye Tae samchon after he’s gone.

You sigh, resting your head against the frame of the door that was now shut in your face, stuck in your own house with the man that you’ve been helplessly pining over that looks way too at home with the way Jihoon plays with the softness of his black hair.

You turn around, closing your eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

When you open them, Yoongi has an eyebrow raised, placing Jihoon on his high-chair. And you don’t know why you found that act so hot but you couldn’t even set your own son down into that chair without him making a fuss but he only giggled cheekily when Yoongi did so.

“What for?”

He doesn’t sound angry, just genuinely confused. You purse your lips and walk towards Jihoon who was simply babbling to himself and grab a cloth to wipe at the appearance of a new stain on his shirt which you suspect he got from his playtime earlier, and you internally groaned at the fact that he probably found some food and decided that it would be a good addition to his play family.

“I know it’s really busy at the hospital this time around and Taehyung basically scammed you here … with us.” You fiddle with your fingers after you pick up a toy on the floor and pass it to Jihoon to keep him occupied as you have a much more … adult-esque conversation with Yoongi. While you made it clear to Jihoon that he didn’t necessarily have a father in his life because you owed him that much, you tried to steer far from conflict and turmoil so he wouldn’t have to grow up knowing only the lows of life.

Yoongi just … stares. And it’s unnerving because you could barely read the man in general and he was looking at you with a blank expression that only causes your anxiety to settle further into your bones. You’re thinking of about a million different ways to apologise or to spontaneously combust so you could save yourself from the scrutiny of Yoongi’s eyes. But before you can say anything and embarrass yourself, even more, he speaks.

“Do you think I don’t enjoy spending time with the two of you?” He frowns, and that’s the most expressive you’ve seen him throughout your entire friendship with the man. The fact that the first time he’s ever shown any explicit emotion around you is one of … disappointment … only makes you realise how far out of his league you were.

“N-No!” You shake your head, flustered at his tone. When you look at him, his face is much softer; a type of expression that shows longing but you aren’t quite sure why it’s there.

“It’s just … you’re busy, Yoongi. You’re a hotshot doctor at the best private healthcare facility in the city and you’re here spending the last night before the weekend with some pathetic single mom who still—by the way—can’t decide on how to brush my teeth just because it doesn’t feel right.”

Yoongi blinks at you, then he looks over at Jihoon and you’re confused for a second because it seems like he’s dismissing your mini ramble, but instead, he reaches out to Jihoon’s hand and bends down so he can look Jihoon straight in the eye.

“Hey, bud?” He calls out to Jihoon and your son looks at Yoongi with all the stars in his eyes.

Your heart softens at the interaction and notices how the way Jihoon doesn’t pull away when Yoongi reaches out to carry him in his arms again.

“Yoongi!” He squeals, squeezing the man’s cheeks between his chubby fingers and you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm and the way that Yoongi resembles a cat.

“I need to ask you something.” He whispers as if it were only the two of the room and you stand on the opposite of them with your arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Your son bobs his head up and down in agreement as he waits for Yoongi to ask him his question.

“Yoongi …” You trail off but he pays you no mind.

“Do you love your mama?” The question surprises you and your mouth opens and closes, and your emotions are all over the place because the question makes you feel nearly inadequate. The way that he asks the question prompts you to wonder if it seemed like what you were doing for Jihoon just wasn’t enough.

“What is this even about?” You snap, eyes narrowed at Yoongi but he still ignores you.

Jihoon nods his cute little head eagerly without a moment of hesitation after Yoongi asks his … what you would say—preposterous question.

“I love mama with all my heart. She’s the best!” Jihoon giggles into Yoongi’s shirt as he leans his head against his chest. You don’t know why his words make you choke up when he tells you he loves you every day but the reassurance that your son does indeed love you makes you feel like you can do anything. It was also probably the fact that you noticed Yoongi smiling fondly between the two of you.

“Do you think she’s pathetic, Hoonie?” He throws your words to your son and you scowl at Yoongi who is still keeping his act of ignoring you very much alive.

“Pathedic?” Jihoon tilts his head again and you almost coo at the slight lisp he has when he asks.

Yoongi chuckles warmly and offers you a small smile as if to tell you that you’d see soon enough before repeating himself to your son.

“Bad.” Yoongi settles.

Jihoon gasps in his tiny little way and frowns, looking over at you with a cute crumpled expression that makes your heart swell even more. The urge to hold your son increases tremendously but you were still confused and curious as to what Yoongi was getting at.

“No no no! Mama is the best, didn’t you hear?” Jihoon squabbles.

You bite your lip to refrain from smiling so wide and choke back the tears that well up.

“Mama always cooks yummy food and never yells at me! I always see other mama’s yelling at their babies but mama … mama loves me too, right?” He rambles off and you sniffle.

“Love you a lot, Hoon.” You say from a distance and Jihoon is satisfied with your answer.

You turn to look at Yoongi and sigh.

“What is this about, Yoongi?” You sound stern and he acknowledges that. He knows the situation is much more serious than what he perceives but he can’t help but observe how the furrow of your brows resembles a squirrel. The comparison makes him want to laugh because you were so cute even when you were angry.

“I have one more question.” He tells you.

You don’t say anything but watch the way he leans in closer to Jihoon with eyes more serious than you’ve seen before.

“You want to see mama happy?” Yoongi whispers so softly that you almost miss it.

Jihoon nods.

“Of course. Mama always makes me happy. But she looks … lonely.” Jihoon frowns a little and you can’t help but have a tear fall. Your baby boy was young but observant and had a heart of pure gold. You didn’t need anyone but Jihoon but—

“What do you think if she gave you a papa?” Yoongi asks and the question stills your entire body. You don’t even see the way Jihoon lights up at the proposition and you also miss the way Yoongi looks over at you once to gauge your reaction.

“Will you be my papa Yoongi?” The question is what snaps you out of your reverie to realise the situation you were in and the allusion of Jihoon’s question.

“Jihoon! You can’t just—say sorry.” You squeak but Jihoon doesn’t pay you any mind because his attention is all on Yoongi who is smiling as wide as he possibly can.

“Only if your mom says yes, Hoonie. If only she knew how much I liked her.” He tells Jihoon but he’s looking at you. Your eyes are wide at the confession and your hands fall limp by your side; not knowing how to respond to Yoongi’s sudden confession.

It wasn’t anything spectacular, and it didn’t cause butterflies to erupt like it was in the movies but the confession was so wholeheartedly Yoongi that you felt so … comfortable. A surprising yet welcoming emotion.

Jihoon looks over to you but you’re looking at Yoongi who looks at you with soft eyes.

“Say yes mama!”

Yoongi stands up from his position to walk over to your frozen state until your hands rest on his chest unconsciously. He looks down at you as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you flush against his body. You blush and avoid his stare when he tries to catch your eyes. You know Jihoon is watching and that makes you feel all the more flustered. It was like you were back in high school and you were ‘canoodling’ behind your parents’ backs.

“Y-Yoongi …” You try to push him away but he reaches his hands to wrap them around your own.

“I’m sorry but you can’t run away from me this time ___.” He teases.

You flush and look away.

“I wasn’t … running …” You mutter.

He chuckles and shakes his head that you feel strands of his hair against your forehead when he leans in closer to connect your forehead with his own.

“Okay.” He agrees. He doesn’t put up a fight and you hate how even when you’re the one that’s flustered he can make you feel … safe. Calm.

“I like you, dumbass. I would go as far to say that I’m in love with you but I know how scared you get so let’s settle for the baby steps first, yeah?” He says so casually that your eyes bulge out of your eye sockets comically.

“You c-can’t just …” You blubber, “Say that!”

Yoongi scoffs.

“I like you Kim ___.”

You punch him in the chest but he doesn’t even flinch.

“No you don’t …” You whisper.

You don’t look at him but you can feel his frown.

“And who are you to tell me how I feel?”

You sigh.

“Yoongi … I don’t know if you heard what I said earlier but you’re … you … and I’m just some other girl that you know because of Taehyung and I’m a mother of a two-year-old. You could literally be with anyone you wanted and I just … you don’t like me. You just—can’t.” You exasperate.

He frowns at you, forcing your chin up to look at him with his index finger. You burn even redder at how close you were.

“I love you. I love Jihoon. And you need to get out of your pretty little head because I don’t want to be with anyone but you. I don’t know where you’re getting this weird picture of me being with anyone I want because I don’t want anyone. I want this—I want in, in this little family.”

You feel yourself choke up, and Yoongi notices so he holds you closer until your head is against his chest.

“I’m emotionally constipated half the time I interact with anyone but you just … you make me feel alive and things that I generally don’t feel on a daily basis. You and Hoon are the only things that keep me going with all the surgeries and stuff. I’m in love with you and it’s all your fault and Hoonie wants you to be happy as much as I do—so please: stop running.”

“Why are you running mama?” Jihoon asks and you remember your son is watching it all.

You flush but don’t move from Yoongi’s grasp. He thinks of this as a step forward because all you do is turn your head to look at Jihoon and offer him a smile through your tears.

You and Yoongi hear Jihoon’s whine and you see him reach his arms towards you as a gesture for you to carry him.

“Mama why are you crying!” He cries.

You feel Yoongi release you and you immediately reach out to Jihoon like it was second nature because it was. Jihoon was the only thing that kept you going when people would give you odd stares as a single mother especially when you were starting to look into preschools for your son. All the superiors would question your legitimacy and income when you were earning more than the average working man. You were always very particular about who you allowed into Jihoon’s life because he was young and got attached easily. But Yoongi made it so … easy. Just like he was that missing piece in both your and Jihoon’s lives.

“I’m okay bubs.” You kiss Jihoon on his cheeks as you hold back your tears.

“Don’t cry, mama.” Jihoon frowns and puts his thumbs between your furrowed brows just like you would always do when he was starting to sulk. You chuckle and hold your son closer to your chest, feeling all the more comforted.

“I’m serious about this ___ …” Yoongi steps closer to you and wraps an arm around you and Jihoon and the action feels so utterly domestic. You feel safe and content within his grasp.

“Yoongi …” You look up at him through your eyelashes and Yoongi has always been entranced with your beauty. It was never just about how beautiful you looked when you were a mother to Jihoon but the energy you carried around you was contagious and he’s immediately lightened up in your presence. He was patient with you because he knew you were serious about Jihoon and that he was your number one priority.

“No, please … listen to me ___.” He cups your cheeks while Jihoon is looking between the two of you with keen interest.

“I know you’re scared because of Jihoon and that’s valid. But I don’t want you to think that you’re not enough for me for superficial reasons because the truth is I probably won’t ever be enough for you and you’re here being the woman of my dreams. I respect your decision if you aren’t ready for a relationship and I won’t push you but I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere just because we aren’t together because I rather have you next to me as a friend than lose out on you forever.”

You had always been a crybaby and Taehyung was probably the reason why you cried all the time as children since he always had been the more rambunctious one between the two of you while you were far timider. But Yoongi knew that under all the times you shed tears because you were touched is a strong-willed woman that could withstand nearly anything in this world if it were for her son.

“And I know that I’m not over my head thinking this but … you want me too and it’s okay if you do but you don’t want a relationship. I respect you as a person, a woman and the mother of Jihoon. I just don’t want you to push me away.” He whispers so softly when he looks into your eyes.

“Mama …” Jihoon whines and you look down at him for a moment when he gives you a glare that doesn’t look so intimidating because of his bread cheeks.

“Yoongi is fun! Can he be our daddy?” You know his choice of words didn’t necessarily entail that context for you in particular but you blush anyway because he was just two. Yoongi senses your flustered state but squeezes your cheeks in between his hands and you feel coddled. It was a new feeling, one that was almost unfamiliar with how long you’ve been deprived of a significant other’s touch.

“I—Yoongi … I really don’t know what to say …” You mumble.

Yoongi smiles at you, comforting and homey all at once because Yoongi was a lot of things but never pushy.

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t know if you realised this but I’m basically Hoon’s dad whether you like it or not because he and I spend more time together than I do with my colleagues at work and I work overtime all the time.” He teases.

“Jihoon really adores you.” You agree, biting on your lip as your mind races for the hundredth time this hour.

You liked Yoongi. You really did—and somewhere along the way, like turned into something more … dangerous. A territory that you usually reserved for Jihoon because you only had the capacity to care for one boy in your life but Yoongi smuggled his way into your heart and here he was causing a hurricane in your stomach.

The words he spoke were so truthful and genuine that you can’t help but believe that against all odds in the universe, Yoongi has somehow chosen you. You were the one that was afraid. He has always chosen you. That enough is shown when he makes his way after tiring shifts just to lay on your couch and play with Jihoon in times where all he could do was babble incoherent words. He chose you when he made surprise visits with the homemade stew that you knew he knew your son and you loved. He chose you when he invited you and Jihoon to spend Chuseok together because you mentioned just spending it with your son than with your family. His parents adored you and were even more taken with Jihoon.

He has always chosen you but now it was your turn.

“I love you.”

You say those words without much further thought because you’ve always felt it. Three words have never felt so safe on your tongue to utter into the atmosphere and you feel the same after the truth is out there. You always knew how you felt and you knew that Yoongi was smart to observe your feelings too, which was why when you finally said it he just looked … content. Happy—like he was in a place that was so familiar and comforting that he didn’t need to react any differently.

“I want—I want to be with you.” You clear your throat, “If you’ll have me.”

You look so shy and young—because you were. But you had that childlike innocence that he’s only ever had the pleasure to see when you would play fight with Jihoon. He feels his chest swell with pride knowing that he was the reason you looked like that and felt the way you did.

“Hmm … should I?” He leaned in closer until his breath was on your cheek.

You knew he was teasing you but you still can’t meet his eyes, and Jihoon simply giggles at the way Yoongi squeezes him between your chests in a way so comforting that Jihoon feels like it’s a warm hug from a blanket.

“Don’t tease …” You grumble.

Yoongi runs his hand through your hair and pulls your head closer to his to give you a gentle kiss on the lips. It was nothing seductive or implicative but so Yoongi. A kiss to show you he wanted this and that he felt whatever flurry of emotions you felt. A kiss like he was coming home.

He pulls away and you see Jihoon frowning between the two of your through your redness and shock.

“I wanna’ kiss too!” He whines, and you and Yoongi both look at your son with the stars in your eyes, then lock eyes with each other; and you do what comes naturally next.

You both kiss your son on the cheeks.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #fluff #imagine #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi #yoongi

476 notes · View notes

marvelouspeterparker · 3 years

Text

just little old me

pairing: harry styles x reader

summary: after releasing his second album, and the music video to his hit “watermelon sugar”, the response from his fans is overwhelmingly positive. and while you’re not surprised, harry on the other hand is very grateful, but just a little confused. but you’re more than happy to help clear some things up for him.

warnings: smut (hints of sub! and dom!harry––we love a switch) + unprotected sex but y’all know not to do that! be safe <3

word count: 3k

notes: this is my first ever harry fic! (also based on the summary u can see how long ago i started this sfjkdhgs) i’m so scared to post this i feel like all the harry writers are so talented––

[i’ve been reading harry fics for so long and these are just some of the blogs that you could say pushed my love for harry and inspired me to write a fic of my own: @majorharry @harryforvogue @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy @sunflowervolvimp3 @haroldloverboy @songbirdstyles if you haven’t read their stuff yet, you should! i reread them all the time!]

You and Harry had been friends for the longest time, since before he was the Harry Styles. You’d watched him grow up in the spotlight while you supported and loved him from the sidelines. He’d bring you everywhere with him when he could, or rather when you allowed him to––you didn’t like the idea of him spending his money on you, but he always waved you off, saying nothing was too much if it was for you.

You were so proud of what he’d achieved and what he’d become but he was still the same Harry you grew up with and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him in your life all this time.

While he rarely spent his time on social media, you spent a majority of your time checking your phone and refreshing your feeds––you just liked to be informed and up to date. Harry didn’t interact that frequently with his fans online, instead preferring the connection when you meet face to face. However, although he wouldn’t respond to people, he would often let you show him what people were saying––after all, he was human too and sometimes he would get a little curious.

You and Harry had been sitting on his couch for an hour now, him messaging Jeff to deal with work related things while you scrolled through twitter, looking at the fans reactions to Harry’s latest music video. It made you smile seeing how happy he made people, you’d seen several people had said that this was “exactly what we needed during this time” and honestly, you couldn’t agree more.

You scrolled down some more and genuinely laughed out loud at the next tweet you read. “I’d sell both my legs and arms just to be the watermelon slice between Harry’s teeth.”

You caught Harry’s attention and he looked over at you, raising a brow, a small smile on his lips. “What’s up?”

You settled down from your laughing fit and showed him the tweet and both his eyebrows raised.

He laughed sheepishly, “You know I really don’t get the ‘hype’”, he put the last word in air quotes. He was always trying to keep up with the latest “slang” as he would put it. He shrugged, a small smirk on his face “I’m just little old me.”

Though his face showed humor, after all the these years, you could tell from the look in his eyes that there was some truth behind his words.

You looked at him incredulously before rolling your eyes and putting your phone aside, unable to stop yourself from going off. “It’s because you’re so genuinely kindhearted, talented and incredibly attractive.” You said as a matter off factly, looking him right in the eye, before looking down at your hands and leaning further back into the couch. “And you have this aura about you––Literally anyone would get down on their knees for you if you asked––actually, no, you wouldn’t even have to ask. You could just look at them and they’d do it, no questions asked. They’d know what to do.”

You had no idea where the courage for you to say all that came from, but you have to admit something about seeing him biting into those watermelons and looking right in the camera three minutes straight while he sang about eating someone out put you on edge. You had been there for him through all his relationships and you loved having him as a friend...but being that close to Harry and not falling in love with him was practically impossible and you weren’t blind. I mean come on.

After a few moments had passed and he still hadn’t said anything, you looked up at him. He was sitting there, a serious look on his face as he stared you down, completely silent. He put his phone down on the table and leaned back, spreading his legs.

You quickly glanced down at his lap then back up to meet his eyes. “What––What are you doing?”

He looked you up and down. “Well according to you,” he tilted his head cheekily, “all I need to do is look at you, and you’ll know what to do.”

Your breath hitched, your brain malfunctioning.“I––You?” You shook your head, knowing that Harry wouldn’t be doing or saying anything if he didn’t mean it. You decided you’d ask questions later. After all, it’d been a while since you got with anybody and you were more than a little horny. You snapped out of your daze and made your way over to him, sliding down onto your knees right in front of him.

You pushed down the thought of how there were literally millions of other people who would kill to be in your position right now and focused on the task at hand. You looked up at him, silently asking for some direction but he shook his head slightly, “This is all you, love. You call the shots.”

You nodded to yourself, taking a deep breath as you calmed yourself down. “Can you take these off for me?” You asked, pulling on his shirt and his sweats.

He quickly got up and stripped himself of his shirt and his bottoms, but you stopped his hands before he could reach for his briefs. You cleared your throat, looking up at him, “I––I can do it.”

He smiled at you before dropping his hands at his sides, letting you do your thing.

You slowly brought the material down, letting his member spring free, trying not to stare too much because wow. You left a trail of soft kisses down his thighs as you pushed the underwear down his legs and you could feel him taking sharp breaths as you did so. He quickly stepped out of them and waited for you to tell him his next move.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and innocently sinful and he swore he felt himself swell up a little more. Your voice was small yet firm when you spoke up. “Can you sit down for me, please?”

He eagerly took a seat and placed his hands on his thighs, his ringed fingers spread out, anxiously tapping against his legs. You grabbed his member and he let out a shaky breath, eyes flitting between your hands on him and your face––both views entrancing him.

“Is this okay, H?” You asked softly and he almost choked on his breath.

He nodded, “Y––Yeah, f’course it is lovie, shit.”

You hummed, smiling as you leaned forward and swirled your tongue around his tip. You left open mouthed kisses along his shaft and licked along his cock, from the base to the top before spitting on it, spreading it with you hand and getting it nice and wet. His fingers were digging into his thighs and you couldn’t help but notice.

You took your hand off of him and ignored the whine that escaped him as you did so. You took his hands in yours and placed them on your head, “You can.” You smiled gently and he nodded, his fingers grasping your strands firmly but not harsh enough to hurt you.

You put your mouth back on him, stroking him as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head, relishing in the small whimpers and moans of your name he let out. You were completely focused on him, tuning into what made him react the loudest and doing it over and over again just to hear those pretty sounds again.

His fingers gripped your hair harder, his hips unwillingly bucking into you softly as he got closer. “M’gonna cum, love. Don’t––” He was mumbling, biting his lips as he looked down at you. When you sucked on his tip, looking him in the eyes, he cursed softly and let his head rest on the cushion, deciding it was too much to feel you and look at you if he wanted to last. “Don’t wanna cum just yet.”

You hummed and pulled off of him, your hand still stroking him. “No?” You pouted playfully. He could hear it in your voice and it only made him twitch in your hand.

“N––No.” He swallowed thickly and looked down at you, his eyes blown with lust. He reached down and pulled you up to stand between his legs. “Wanna make you feel good too.” You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face. “Not fair for me to be the only one getting what I want, is it?” He tilted his head, licking his lips as he looked up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs teasingly.

When you didn’t respond, his hands squeezed you. “Asked you a question, lovie.”

You gasped lightly. “N––No it’s––not fair...”

He smirked, reaching for your shorts. “Let’s take these off, yeah?” You nodded and let out a small yeah, and only then did his fingers slip into the waistband and pull the material down your legs. You placed your hands on his shoulders while he helped you step out of your bottoms. He looked up at you, a glint in his eyes as he reached for your panties, again, only pulling them down after you gave your verbal consent. He kept his eyes trained on yours the whole time he slipped them down, and if anything that made you feel more vulnerable––more open.

When you stepped out of them, he trailed his hands up your thighs and along your hips before raising your shirt a bit. “Can you take this off for me?” You nodded and pulled the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes as his hands splayed across your abdomen, his cold rings contrasting with the warm pressure of his fingertips.

His hands slid up, and he smiled when you let out a breathless please when he asked for permission to touch your newly exposed skin. His eyes finally trailed down past your eyes, widening with arousal when they settled on your soft skin, your pebbled nipples, straining for attention. He rubbed his thumbs over the numbs ever so lightly, looking back up at you when you sighed and arched your back, leaning further into his touch, almost as if he wanted to commit it to memory.

“Look at you, pet.” You whined softly at the nickname and the feeling of his hands on your skin. “So beautiful.” He grasped your breasts and now it was your turn to let out a shaky breath.

He let his hands slide back down to your waist and you pouted, making him furrow his brows playfully. “Hey, none of that now.” He brought a hand up to hold your jaw. “Just realized we haven’t even had a proper kiss yet and you had me down your throat.” You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but his thumb caressed your cheek soothingly, sliding over to run over your lips gently. “C’mere.”

You stepped into his embrace and pressed your lips against his, your hands coming to hold the side of his face and play with his hair, making him moan into you. His hand stayed at your jaw, the other sliding down your body to grab your ass firmly. Your lips slotted together perfectly as you pulled away and reconnected them softly every few seconds, thoroughly enjoying each other. He licked into your mouth and quickly took control of the kiss, not that you had any complaints, sucking on your tongue and pulling you in closer. He bit your lip and pulled away, smiling when you subconsciously tried to get more of his lips.

His eyes trailed down to between your legs and they stayed there for a moment, distracted. “Gonna let me have a taste?” He licked his lips teasingly, looking back up at you. “I just wanna taste it.” He referenced his song, a small smile on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as well. “Harry.”

“What?” He shrugged innocently. “M’just being honest.”

“You actually want to? You don’t have––”

“Been dying to, pet. You don’t know how long I’ve been aching to get my mouth on you.” He got down on his knees and the sight of him looking up at you from that position made your whole body shiver.

He placed his hands on your thighs. “What do you say? Gonna let me have my dessert?”

You nodded, letting out a small okay. When you tried to sit down where he had just been seated, he shook his head and stopped you, taking one hand and lifting your leg to place it on his shoulder. Your eyes widened, your mouth dropping open as he placed your hands in his hair to steady you.

He had the audacity to ask, “You good?”

You nodded, dazed. “Uh, yeah.”

“Good.” He smiled and with that he leaned forward and licked through your folds, immediately kissing your clit, holding you as your head tipped back in surprise.

“Shit, Harry––” Your fingers gripped his curls, pulling him into you as he moaned. Of course he was enjoying himself as he pleased you. His tongue was moving with purpose as he lapped up your wetness, spreading it around your clit. He really knew how to use his mouth.

You moaned loudly when he sucked on your clit, and even louder when he used the tip of his tongue to trace on it, realizing what he was spelling out–– H A R R Y. He grinned when he realized you caught on and his fingers were digging into you as he held you up, letting you desperately grind onto his face.

You looked down to make sure he was still okay with all of this, shocked to see him looking up at you, watching your reactions, clearly pleased. You cursed softly. “Feels really good, Harry. Fuck––”

He hummed blissfully, properly burying himself in you, his eyes stuck on your body as he brought you to the edge rather quickly. “Gonna cum in my mouth, baby?”

You whined, nodding your head as you held onto him for dear life. “M’so close.”

“Cum for me, pet. I want it.” He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, holding you upright as your body shivered and convulsed in his hands and on his tongue. He didn’t let up, fully making love to your clit with his tongue as he kissed your lower lips passionately, getting his light stubble wet. He was making a proper mess but neither of you cared.

When your legs stopped trembling, he pressed a kiss to your clit, then to the thigh over his shoulder before placing your leg back on the ground. He looked up at you, a smug grin on his face as you looked at him, breathless. He stood up, his hands finding their place on your hips and he licked the rest of your juices that were still on his lips, his chin still slick with your arousal.

“Care to clean me up, love?” He leaned closer. “Is your mess after all.”

You smirked before leaning in and licking up your wetness from his chin and up his lips before bringing him in for a messy, passionate kiss. Without disconnecting your lips your turned him around and pushed him onto the couch, taking your seat on his lap, his arms wrapping around you instinctively.

You wrapped your hand around his base, smiling down at him when he pulled away to whine. You lifted yourself up a bit and swiped him through the mess he made between your thighs. “Can I ride you, H?” You asked him, teasingly sweet.

He threw his head back, “Christ, y’can do whatever you want to me, love.”

You kissed his neck and slid him into you, and his fingers dug into you as he let out a long moan.

“God, you feel even better than I’d imagined.”

You tilted your head, starting to bounce and grind on him, “You’ve thought about this?”

“Of course I have. Have you seen yourself?” You were about to push further when he slid a hand down to rub at your clit, making you gasp and grind down on him harder.

“Oh fuck, H.”

He grinned, thrusting into you. “That feel good?”

You nodded. “So good.”

His hand was holding your hip as he bucked his hips into you. How he found your spot so quickly, you have no idea. You tilted your head back and he grabbed your neck gently, making your eyes widen as you looked down at him, noticing the dark look in his eyes as he watched you come undone on his cock.

When he noticed you getting close, he pulled you in to rest on him and your wrapped your arms around his shoulders, whimpering into his neck as he started to fuck you harder, his hips finding a smooth rhythm easily.

You kissed his skin, marking it up as you sat there and took everything he was giving you. He was still sensitive from before, but he didn’t want to finish before you did, again. “Come on, pet. Give it to me. Just one more so I can fill you up.”

You groaned, your lips grazing his skin as your legs started to tremble, your walls clenching around him, coaxing him to tip over the edge with you. Your body shook as you whimpered, your body tensing.

“That’s it, just like that.” He grunted, thrusting a few more times before he released inside of you, the both of you moaning together.

He wrapped his arms around you tight, holding you close as he thrusted slowly, making sure to empty himself out inside of you. You both sighed softly and you sat up. He looked up at you, pure adoration and awe in his eyes, his arms still holding you. You placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Hi.” You smiled sheepishly.

He smiled back, kissing you softly before pulling back to look at you again, his head resting against the couch. “Hi.”

You looked down, deciding to focus on his tattoos, suddenly nervous. “I’ve uh––sort of wanted to do that for a while.”

He unwound his arms to caress your back with his hands. “Mm me too.” He smiled when you looked up at him.

“I really like you, H.”

“Well I guess it’s a good thing that I like you too, then.” He squeezed you playfully. “Would you like to go out on a date this week?”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him again. “I’d love to.”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #sub!harry styles #dom!harry styles #sub!harry styles x reader #dom!harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #dom!harry styles smut #sub!harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #lol

1K notes · View notes

prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

Face your demon

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Could you do A Spike x reader where the reader is in love with him, but doesn't show her emotions (except for getting easily flustered around him), but Spike overhears hears her talking to willow about it and he confronts her, ending in them being together?

Requested by: @wiccanindigo

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @artsymaddie @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard @cameo-greaves

You were pretty neutral in public. Your face rarely shifted other than to a polite smile or perhaps a confused frown should the moment take you by surprise. Other than this human reaction, you would usually maintain a resting face. One that appeared to most as if you didn’t wish to be in their company. Or anywhere at all really.

You felt a lot. You really cared about your friends, the people you loved. It was just near-impossible to express this. At least, in a way that you were comfortable. It was much easier to hold people at a distance. That way, you didn’t risk rejection. Or painful, bitter emotions that you didn’t enjoy.

So, you tended to hide your emotional side completely. Rather than wrestle with articulating the way you felt. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision, just one that you lived with. You struggled expressing your emotions – not only on your face but also verbally. Any way, really. It could be so hard.

Luckily for you though, you had some very caring and empathetic friends. The Scoobies. They understood and gave you the time you needed – between fighting apocalypses of course.

You were sat in the Magic box with all of your friends around you. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara and Giles. You were characteristically just staring into the centre of the room as the usual antics played out around you.

You contributed now and again although not as passionately as the others, it must be said. You tended to bounce off of someone else’s point and repeat it if you agreed with it with a shrug. As if you would rather be anywhere but there.

You weren’t shy. In fact you came across as the complete opposite. Cool, collected. Near apathetic should your friends not understand how deeply you truly did care – you just didn’t express it as much as most. There was no need to gush in your book. You weren’t one to keep your heart on your sleeve and make the entire room look at it.

Well, that was until him.

Spike ran in, slamming the door shut behind him. It slammed so hard the entire store shook and he sauntered in as if it was nothing. It made the corners of your mouth tug into an almost-smile but you looked down to avoid anyone seeing.

There he was, your weakness. The one that could render you speechless. A flustered mess. A heat would rise in your cheeks and your voice would appear weak and just wholly unlike yourself.

You had it bad. He always did this, walking in with that swagger. Those cheekbones. That look…

His eyes were straight on you. As they always were. You were a mystery to him, one he was so desperate to figure out. You had noticed the way he always made his way to you. The way he dropped his voice and made comments about the others in the room in the hopes of you cracking a smile.

You spoke to him as much as you could, but often your words failed you. You didn’t want to give anything away. Couldn’t. You didn’t want him to tease you, reject you in such a painful way.

He was Spike, after all. He could have anyone he wanted you were sure of it.

The point was, though, that he wanted you. And you were too wrapped up in focusing on how to breath properly when he was around that you didn’t notice.

Spike found your resting face beautifully morbid. He found you to be strong-willed and the very little he sensed or heard from you he found himself clinging to. You would be stamped onto his brain for the rest of his un-life, he was sure of it.

He was in so deep. Thought about you constantly. Wanted to know what you were doing, what you were thinking. Imagined himself by your side. Taking you into his bed… oh, and I won’t even start on the dreams. They left him aching. Such deep, unending desire. For you. God, it could only ever be you.

“Alright, pet? Don’t rush to say you missed me, written on your face already” He smouldered in that way he did. Hoping for any kind of reaction.

You looked up at him before immediately looking away. A ghost of a smile on your face as you shifted in your seat. He took this as an invitation to sit beside you and so he did.

“Hi Spike” You just about managed before your voice wavered. You didn’t like the way he rendered you this flustered mess. But, at the same time you couldn’t help but completely love it.

Your usual cool demeanour gone. Lost in those beautiful eyes of his. You could happily live in his eyes for the rest of your life.

You managed to position yourself in your seat in such a way that meant he made up most of you vision, without it looking glaringly obvious to anyone else. He lived in your peripheral vision. At least this way a little part of him was yours.

You became a little brave and moved your eyes to look at him properly, no longer just from the side. He was beautiful. The way that t-shirt clung perfectly to his torso. The way his leather duster managed to land in such a relaxed way on his shoulders. Effortless cool. Or, that’s what you assumed.

You loved him. His looks. His personality. Just everything. You couldn’t escape it.

Something snapped you out of staring. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you. Staring.

“Huh?” You asked, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks as he turned to face you properly too. You had apparently managed to miss the entire meeting. Not one scrap of the plan had entered your head. You were consumed by him instead.

“Y/n? You sure that’s okay?”

“We’ll be fine on patrol, right love?” Spike smirked at the rest of the room and raised an eyebrow which made everyone reconsider.

“We can switch if evil dead makes you uncomfortable” Xander offered kindly which made spike glare. He wanted you to himself.

“No that’s good- uh, fine. It’s fine. I’ll patrol with Spike” you rushed out at a completely different pace than anyone was used to hearing you speak.

What you were supposed to be looking for, you didn’t know. You hadn’t been listening just focusing on regulating your breathing. Wiping the sweat from your palms at the proximity. He was sat so close to you. You wanted to just lean against him. Whisper how you felt.

You and Spike walked out into the cool night air. Mostly in silence, although you could almost hear the cogs in his mind whirring to come up with something to say. You didn’t realise but he was trying to impress you. Trying to get you to smile. He loved it when you smiled. Near melted.

He then finally asked something he had so wanted to say to you. For such a long time.

“We could, uh, blow this off, go for a drink?” He let the proposition hang in the air.

You didn’t even begin to consider this had been something more than a teasing joke because he didn’t want to be stuck patrolling anymore. Just wanted to rebel against Buffy’s sudden authority in his life.

“Yeah, because I’ve always thought you’d look great with a redwood through your chest” You spoke, referring to what Buffy would do to him should he leave you or the demon to run through the streets.

“Pet-”

“It’d make a pretty accessory. Bring out your eyes” You deadpanned and he just stared. Why were you like this? Why did your flirting so quickly descend into just being rude?

It was like a disease. You were riddled with it. Any sense that your mouth would spill the contents of your mind and something took over. Possessed you, began to say the very opposite of what you wished to say.

You wanted him to ask you out for a drink. Tell you that you looked nice, that he felt lucky to have someone like you to take out. Have on his arm. Show off. You wanted to loop your arms around him and embrace him. Kiss his lips. Have him in your bed. His body yours and only yours.

But, instead, you had just told him he would look better dead. Or, well, more dead. He had taken this as a firm no, you didn’t want to go out with him. He looked upwards, trying to stop the stinging at the back of his eyes before he nodded firmly and just shrugged.

“Whatever, let’s find this vamp”

Oh, right. It was a vampire. You were supposed to be looking for a vampire. That at least narrowed it down… kind of.

Both of you took turns in glancing at the person beside them. So desperately wishing to touch them. Have some kind of intimacy. It was hard having the one that you loved so close and yet emotionally so far away.

There was a distance. A canyon between you that you both wished to cross. But it was so hard. There would be no turning back.

You never caught up with the vampire you were meant to find and Spike walked you home instead when it got too late. You tried to thank him for the gesture but he had turned and walked away. Licking his wound at the rejection you had inflicted upon him without realising.

Despite the fact you had hurt him though, he had needed to make sure you got in safe. Protecting you from harm meant everything even if you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It had been a couple of days since this unwitting rejection and you and Willow had arrived early waiting to meet with the others at the Magic Box. Giles had gone to pick up some order sat the back. Which left just you and your friend. Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

She was the only one that knew how you felt for Spike. She had seen you watching him, a new expression unlocked on your face. As if she had won a quest or something in a video game and been allowed to see it.

Conversation had quickly turned to this man that you were so in love with it managed to fluster even you. You near hid your face from your friend at even the implication you liked him. But you were comfortable that Willow was being supportive.

You discussed that you liked him. Truly admitted it out loud for the first time. Not realising that the man himself was stood around the corner listening. He loved to hear your voice and so had stayed back because you seemed to speak less in his company.

Spike’s jaw tensed as he heard you talking about this mystery man though. He had never heard you gush this way before. Stumbling over your words to describe such longing. You usually appeared so calm, collected. He wished to be the one that sent you weak at the knees in the way that this nameless idiot did. He guessed it was probably Xander.

Stupid bloody Xander. Gormless nit.

“Maybe, uh, you should tell him? You can’t know his feelings unless you try” Willow offered.

Spike guiltily hoped that you would have to face rejection so that he could comfort you instead. Spend more time with you, prove to you that you could trust him with your emotions. He so longed to have your attention. Your trust.

“I can’t… I-it’s too hard” You sighed and his spirits lifted, maybe this would be his chance instead. While you tried to build up your courage, he could show you how much you meant to him. How much he wanted you.

Nothing could have prepared him for what came out of your mouth next. There had been only a slight pause while you sifted through your emotions.

“He’s so- he’s… he’s Spike” You had no other description other than this spike-ness was all that you wanted. You near craved it. But also these words explained how hard it was. How trying to speak to him was near impossible. Willow nodded in understanding and patted your shoulder sympathetically.

“It could be good for you, y’know? Facing your, uh, demon…” Willow’s voice dried up. Turned into a little squeak. You looked up, confused.

There he was, as if your longing had been a magnet to the man himself. Your eyes bulged and your mouth opened in shock. The most your face had ever given away.

Willow stumbled over some excuse that neither Spike nor you heard before she left for the exit. Allowing you to both speak.

“I’m the bloke you’ve been harpin’ on about?” He said slowly. He did this only because he wanted to hear it from your mouth again. As if he wasn’t entirely sure if he had dreamed it or not.

“We don’t have to make it into a big deal… I’m sure I’ll, uh, get over it” You tried, avoiding the rejection you could feel coming.

“Don’t” He said quickly, “God, please bloody don’t get over it. You’d break a poor dead man’s heart if you did”

“What?” You asked, frowning in confusion. He couldn’t possibly feel the same way… could he?

“Don’t be daft, love. Asked you for a drink didn’t I? Trailed after you despite you not even pretending to take an interest. Been there just in the nick of time before somethin’ nasty ate you?” He reeled off things he had pretty much done in the last fourty-eight hours. It made you gasp with surprise. How had you missed this? “Tell me I haven’t bent over bloody backwards for even a shred of your affection,”

“Spike…” You looked away, it was so hard. You didn’t even know how to begin to say what you needed to.

“Please, don’t shy away. Can’t stand it when your eyes wander…”

“Spike, I…” He took your hand, nodding subtly to show that he was there. That he liked you, that he needed to hear it. Whatever it may be, “I love you”

Spike pulled you into him immediately, knowing this must have bee hard for you. He was beginning to understand. You were like him, petrified of the rejection. The idea that the one that held such promise and stirred such feeling could ruin everything. You restored his faith in love. Rekindled his affections for the notion as well as confirming that he loved you too.

He crashed his lips to yours, his reply to your words communicated in this way. And you understood completely. Lips moving against yours, a display of affection only for you. he was firm in his love but so very tender. He embraced you close, a hand along the small of your back that made you shiver and lean further into him. Deepening this perfect kiss.

You parted, somewhat reluctantly and just gazed at the other for a moment before he spoke.

“I’m just glad you don’t have eyes for the whelp” Spike grinned and it made your face brighten. A smile. One that he savoured as you rolled your eyes at him being so pleased you liked him more than Xander.

He took your hand in his and sauntered beside you. Chest puffed out and proud to have you by his side. As if you had just gifted him the entire world.

Now you just had to break it to your friends. There was no way you would be hiding this.

#Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #Spike #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #spike fic #buffyverse #btvs fic #x reader #gn #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned

482 notes · View notes

fanfic-me-up · 4 years

Text

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

5K notes · View notes

kageyuji · 4 years

Text

How the pretty setter squad kisses

-> warnings ; kissing, making out

-> includes ; oikawa, kageyama, kenma, suga, and akaashi

a/n ; idk which group i want to do next! i was thinking about aces or liberos, but who would you guys want?

oikawa —

i feel like oikawa is the most experienced out of all of them, i just think he’s been in more half-relationships than the others

the first kiss probably happens at a very light hearted time; the two of you were somewhere just relaxing, laughing at some dumb joke or story he’d said when he suddenly asks if he can kiss you

you’d smile and say yes, he’d smile too and lean in

he’s very gentle and his lips are softer than you’d expected

his hands rest on the sides of you neck with his thumb on your jawline, pulling you just a little bit closer to him

you feel him smiling against your lips and then pull away, leaving you flustered although he seemed relatively calm about what had just happened

he’s probably the calmest out of everyone

not in a way that he didn’t care about this kiss, because he definitely did care, i just think he’s had a lot more first kisses

he isn’t very consistent with his kisses; sometimes slow and soft, other times rough and passionate

sometimes he rests his forehead on yours and just kind of. sits there

he finds it very calming, or so he says (we all know it’s because he lowkey wants you to kiss him again)

he also likes to gently kiss the tips of your fingers whenever you’re cuddling, he finds it very sweet??

also, i feel like he’s the type to give you sleepy kisses

like he’s half asleep, you both had long days, he just leans in and very lazily gives you something that’s more than a peck but not quite a kiss

makeout sessions are,,,,interesting to say the least

he’s very handsy and flirty, and he loves to be marked up

he would gladly show off any hickeys he earned (yes, earned)

he’s very passionate when it comes to making out w you <///////3

he likes you in his lap whenever you’re making out, his hands on your back with your arms preferably thrown over his shoulders

he watches makeout tutorials don’t @ me ABSJDBF

he also holds his hand on the small of your back so he can hold you against him, you don’t really notice it until you go to move away from him

but he’s holding you the entire time you’re making out

kageyama —

you’re going to have to initiate the first kiss; he doesn’t quite know how to ask so he waits for you

but also, it takes him a while to trust you enough to let his walls down a little bit

it’s not a person thing, he just isn’t one to rush into something, even if he’s known you for a while

which is why it took a long while for you to make the first move

you leaned in slowly, making sure he didn’t pull back

“can i...?” you asked

he looked awkward and even a little nervous, but he nodded

with that, you closed the distance between you two

he is a little confused as to what to do with his hands, does he hold your hand? does he hold your face? it feels awkward to have them at his sides but can he touch you?

when you put your hand on the side of his face, he freezes up at first but then leans into your touch

he’s also probably the first to pull back

it’s not that he wants to, his brain is just a fried mess of trying to figure out if he’s a good kisser, if he did it right, was he awkward? how long is a kiss supposed to last?

of course, you know absolutely none of this because he’s not that great at expressing his emotions

he has an expression on his face that’s something like panic

he has so many thoughts. he’s running through it in his mind again. he’s screaming internally

on the outside he’s still doing the 😧😳 face

after the first kiss, they go a little bit smoother but not really

it takes him a while for the kisses to get less awkward

also he’s much more a fan of quick pecks than full on kissing

however, makeout sessions are bound to happen at some point

he’s hella awkward about it at first, he’s literally never made out with anyone before

again, he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands in the beginning

eventually he figures it out and things go a lot more smoothly, but he’s still slightly hesitant

i feel like he wants you to set the pace, at least to begin with; he doesn’t want to seem too controlling or too pushy

but once he figures out what you like he can takeover if you want him to

kenma —

i feel like with kenma, you’d have to make the move to initiate the first kiss

it’s not that it’d be impossible for him too, he just isn’t that big on kissing, he’d rather cuddle or something

so finding an opportunity to kiss you just isn’t on his mind

that’s not to say if the perfect opportunity arose he wouldn’t though

i feel like the two of you would have been snuggling, you perched beside him while he was playing on his switch

and you would have had to pec his cheek to get his attention, when he turned to you he looked a little confused

but you couldn’t help but notice how close your faces were together

“can i kissed you?” you asked him, and watched a soft smile pull at his lips

“mhm,” he answered

you leaned and pressed your lips against his, him kissing you back

he isn’t very touchy, it’s just a soft, feather-light touch on your side

also, if you kiss him while he’s holding something in his hands or he’s got his hands in his pockets, he most likely isn’t going to set the object down and take his hands out of his pockets

so it can get awkward with touching but only if you think about it too much VAHDFBNF

he honestly isn’t that big on kissing, he will sleepy nuzzle into you though? or give you a quick peck before he leaves

or he also like holding your hand, but not in like an actual way. he’ll like,,,want your arm thrown lazily over his arm or something

makeout sessions with kenma are,,,,something else, i suppose

it’s not that kenma doesn’t care about the relationship, he just isn’t a very passionate lover WHSUDBFN

so makeout sessions w him are not only rare, they’re rather sloppy

they aren’t consistent, either

sometimes he’ll want hickeys, other times not.

sometimes he wants you on his lap, his hands holding you somewhere

while other times he genuinely couldn’t care how you’re sitting

he’s usually still very gentle, but he’s pretty versatile about it so whatever you ask he’ll probably do

suga —

uhm. i’m so bad at writing suga anyway so uh basically

i feel like he’s not the type that like,,,ask you out of no where

the first time, you’ll definitely see it coming before he asks if he can kiss you

he’s smiling the entire time he asks, and even if you say no to him the smile never drops from his face

if you do say yes, he lets out something like a chuckle and leans in to kiss you

he is no way a rough kisser, he’s very soft and gentle

he has one hand on the side of your face and the other is on your waist

the first kiss is probably short, but when he breaks away from you he’s still just inches away from you face and his hand is still resting lightly on your cheek

so if you lean again by no means is he going to stop you

he’s pretty calm about it, i’m not saying he’s smooth by any means AHSJFJNF but he’s probably the most calm out of all of the setters

he’s used to initiating kisses i think, but he actually kind of loves it whenever you try to move first

the first kiss actually wasn’t so awkward, but it slowly becomes less and less so the further into the relationship

sugas the type to pepper light kisses all over your face

but i also feel like his kisses get a lot more lazy the further into the relationship? not in a bad way, but he’s the type to give you sleepy, half-kisses

suga is v sweet w his makeout sessions!! he always asks before giving hickeys, he’s very gentle about moving you or adjusting if any awkward situations happen

he’s probably the most verbal? he asks a lot of questions

he starts off very soft and gentle, but based on how into it you get the more he’ll adjust to what you want

hickeys are kinda. eh, i suppose. he’s a-okay giving them, but unless you ask or want to he isn’t gonna ask for hickeys on himself

akaashi —

who makes the first move is kind of 50/50, akaashi has a lot of anxiety but also he isn’t afraid to speak his mind

he’s also very intuitive so i feel like he’d be able to tell whenever you were ready, and if you were too afraid to say something he’d definitely make the first move

i also feel like akaashi is probably the sweetest out of all of the boys when it comes to asking you

he’ll grab you hand, looking you right in the eyes and asking you straight forward if he can

whenever you say yes, he’ll smile and lean in of course

he’s a bit rougher with his kisses than you’d originally expected, his hand under your chin in order to pull him closer to you

he’s got to be holding you in some way; wether it’s a hand on your waist or just him holding your hand

he’s probably the first to pull away - his kisses are kind of short compared to the others’

he’ll probably pull away from you a little, although not all the way. your faces are still close, but not too close

he’s smiling, a dry laugh coming from him

his other kisses usually happen in a similar manner, although how he kisses can change from time to time

he can definitely kiss a lot softer sometimes though as well

makeout sessions are sort of a different story? kind of?

he starts off slow, but then gets more rough the more into he gets

he likes to leave hickeys, but if you don’t want any it’s not like he’s gonna complain

he’ll claim to be embarrassed whenever you leave hickeys on him, although he secretly loves it whenever his team sees them

he’s not handsy per se, one hand rest on his waist and moves up and down and the other is on your back

he’s also another thats verbal, he likes to communicate w you, asking if this is ok or if you’d like this

he likes it whenever you run your fingers through his hair, curling your fingers and tugging lightly

1K notes · View notes

yellowsuitcase · 3 years

Text

In the Prefect’s Bathroom Part 2 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: By popular demand, I’ve written part two! I plan to write a part 3 and it’ll likely become the FINAL part but who knows? Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Y/N can’t stop thinking about her time with Draco, but what happens when she sneaks out of Harry’s room to meet with him again?

Warning(s): SMUT!!! Unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, oral sex (male and female) cheating

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist & Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

“Harry, stop,” Y/N whined as she lightly pushed her boyfriend away. They were walking back to their common room, and Harry had decided that it was the perfect time to kiss Y/N all over her face. And when she pleaded for him to stop, he didn’t heed her words; he only proceeded to plant smooches on her cheeks. “Harry!” Y/N giggled quietly. He smiled and pulled her close. “Want to come up to my room?” he whispered in her ear. Y/N felt a sudden twinge of guilt in her stomach. She knew her boyfriend, and she knew what those words implied. It’d only been a few days since she and Draco had...met up. Y/N wasn’t sure she could stomach a round of sex with Harry, but she knew it would look suspicious if she denied. “Sure,” she replied softly. Harry gripped her hand and picked up his pace, dragging Y/N with him.

As they climbed the stairs to Harry’s dorm, Y/N began to prepare herself for what was to come. Just act normal, she told herself. The couple stepped into the messy room, and Harry closed the door behind them, casting a locking charm on it. Then he began to strip his clothes, starting with his robes. Y/N inhaled shakily and started to do the same. When they were down to just their underwear, Harry took her hand and led her to the bed. She sat down and slid back so that she was pressed against the headboard. Harry climbed on top of her and kissed her sweetly.

All Y/N could think about was how his kisses were so soft compared to Draco’s. Stop. You love Harry, and you love his kisses. Stop thinking about Draco. Focus on Harry. Y/N kissed him back with force, causing Harry to pull away. “Eager, are we?” he chuckled. Y/N blushed and nodded curtly. “I need you,” she mumbled, trying to get him to speed up. It seemed to work; Harry curled his fingers in the waistband of Y/N’s black underwear and swiftly slid them down and off of her legs. He licked his fingers, pressed them to her slit, and slowly dragged them up and down. Y/N closed her eyes and tried to focus on the moderately pleasing sensation, but all she could think about were Draco’s fingers.

Soon enough, Harry slid two digits inside her and began to pump in and out. But Y/N couldn’t take it; she just couldn't. “Harry, please. I’m ready,” she lied. Harry looked up at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” Y/N nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. Please, Harry,” she begged. And with that, he withdrew his fingers and took his dick out of his underwear. He stroked it softly before grabbing a condom from his drawer and slipping it on. Harry lined up his tip with Y/N’s pussy and hesitantly slid in. A sharp gasp left him when Y/N slammed her hips forward, shoving his cock all the way inside her. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned. “Move Harry,” she instructed. Harry obliged and began to thrust in and out of her at a consistent but slow pace. At that moment, Y/N was reminded that Harry very much liked slow, sensual sex. He was the complete opposite of Draco.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” Harry grunted as he upped his speed just a little. Y/N forced a moan to spill from her lips while she clenched her walls around him, making him gasp. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he told her. Y/N reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. She gazed into his eyes, and for a moment, felt the pain of guilt again, but she quickly pushed it away and kissed him passionately. Harry groaned into her mouth, his thrusts beginning to turn sloppy. Y/N knew he was close. Sure enough, a few moments later, he pulled away from the kiss and announced his climax. Y/N squeezed him tightly, pretending she was reaching her high as well.

After Harry calmed down, he removed himself from Y/N’s hole and sat down on the bed, heaving heavily. “Did you…?” he asked. Y/N pushed herself up so that she was leaning back on her elbows. “Yeah, I did,” she lied. Harry blushed softly, feeling proud. Y/N, on the other hand, felt like utter shit. She was always honest with Harry whenever he failed to make her cum, but tonight, she lied. It didn’t sit well with her. She watched as her boyfriend slid off the bed and went to dispose of the used condom. Y/N let herself fall onto the soft mattress. She stared up at the ceiling, questioning what the hell she was doing. Soon enough, Harry returned to the bed and crawled underneath the covers, coaxing Y/N to put on a shirt before pulling her underneath as well. Within minutes, Harry was fast asleep, leaving Y/N alone in her thoughts. They all consisted of Draco. He was all she saw in her mind as she replayed his voice.

“You’re so tight.”

“Tell me I’m better than him, Y/N.”

“I’ll sneak off to your common room, crawl into your bed, and fuck you until you see stars.”

“I’m gonna fuck you all the fucking time.”

Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry rolling over and letting her go. His back was now facing her. Y/N knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stand being in that room any longer. So she carefully peeled back the bedsheets and slinked out of bed. But when her feet touched the floor, a loud creak sounded through the room. She grimaced, terrified Harry had heard it. Luckily, when she turned around, she only saw him softly snoring. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, tiptoed over to her pile of clothes, and quickly threw them on. Once properly clothed, she pulled out her wand, unlocked the door, and walked out of it as quietly as possible. She double-checked that Harry was asleep and pushed the door so that it was almost closed, leaving it open just a crack, and rushed down the stairs. Y/N got to the bottom of the stairs and walked across the common room towards the girl’s dorms when she heard a door begin to open. Her feet froze, and Y/N prayed that it would be dark enough so that whoever was coming inside wouldn’t be able to see her. But what she was not anticipating was Draco Malfoy waltzing into the room as if he owned the place. He spotted her instantly.

“Draco! How the hell did you get in here?” Y/N whisper-yelled as she walked over to the Slytherin. Draco smirked. “Let’s just say, first-years are very easy to trick and even easier to frighten.” Y/N frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a prick, you know that?” she asked condescendingly. “Shut your mouth before I do it for you,” he threatened. “Now, lead me to your dorm, why don’t you?” Draco asked, but it was quite obvious he didn’t mean it as a question. Y/N gulped and spun around. She led Draco up the stairway and all the way to her dormitory. Her roommate was rarely present, always spending the night in her girlfriend’s room, so Y/N didn’t have to worry about waking anyone up. She opened the door and hurried inside, Draco following after her. Once she closed the door behind them, Draco grabbed her shoulders and slammed her against the wall. Y/N’s heart began to race as the blonde leaned in close. “You smell of sex,” he stated. Y/N averted her eyes, unable to bring herself to look at him. This made Draco angry; he swiftly grabbed her chin and turned her head towards him, forcing her to make eye contact.

“Who fucked you? I thought I told you you were mine,” he growled. Y/N was almost positive that he could feel the pounding in her chest. She looked at the floor, feeling like a child who’d just gotten caught stealing candy. “H-harry did. I couldn’t just say no, he’d think s-something was up, h-he’d get suspicious,” Y/N explained, trying to get Draco to understand. “Bad choice, princess, because now I get Saint Potter’s sloppy seconds. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?” Draco asked while pressing her further into the wall, her shoulder blades beginning to hurt. His eyes were glowing with anger. He’d never looked so terrifying to Y/N. But then again, he’d never looked so sexy. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t for very long, I swear,” said Y/N. Her hands were in the air, trying to prove to him she wasn’t fibbing. Draco smirked and leaned in closer. “Good, because you’re not sleeping tonight,” he snarled. He removed his hands from her shoulders, and they flew to her skirt, where they yanked it down, along with her panties. The cold air hit her hot pussy, causing her to squirm. Draco wasted no time; he had already changed into comfortable clothes, so all he had to do was pull down his sweatpants and take his already hard cock into his palm. He teased her slit with the tip of it, just like Harry had done, only better. And then, he pushed inside all the way to the hilt, making Y/N’s body jerk from the impact.

“How does he fuck you, Y/N? Does he fuck you slow, like this?” Draco asked while he thrusted into her at a leisurely pace. Y/N nodded quickly, her eyes sewn shut. “Yes.” Draco chuckled. “And do you like that, Y/N? Or do you prefer being slammed into?” When Draco said “slammed,” he did just that, pulling his dick out then forcing it back inside Y/N’s pussy. A squeak escaped Y/N’s lips. “Please, please, please,” she begged, not really sure what she was begging for. “What princess? Do you like this? Do you like getting pounded?” Draco teased while thrusting into her, fast. Y/N nodded desperately, her eyes still closed tightly. Draco once again slowed his pace. Y/N whimpered and clenched her pussy walls around his cock, trying to urge him to fuck her faster.

“Open your eyes, princess, look at me,” he demanded. Y/N’s eyes flickered open and landed on Draco’s grey ones. “Listen to me carefully. You’re going to suck my dick, ride me, and then, if you’re a good girl, I’ll eat you out. How does that sound, slut?” he asked, still sliding in and out of her. She scrambled to reply. “Y-yes, that sounds so good, please,” she whined. Draco laughed at her neediness and then pushed into her, making her yelp. “And one more thing, you can’t cum until I say so. Understand?” he questioned. Y/N felt her legs tremble and shake as she inhaled sharply. “Yes, I understand,” she muttered. “Stop mumbling; say it again,” he ordered her harshly. Y/N gulped and cleared her throat. “I understand. I won’t cum until you say so.” Draco smiled and thrusted into her one more time before pulling out. “That’s a good girl. Now get on your knees.”

Y/N did just that, nearly falling onto the floor as she knelt. When she regained her balance, she was met with Draco’s wet cock in her face. She hesitated momentarily but drew it into her mouth and began to suck softly, her hands rested on his hips. Draco’s head rolled back, and he moaned softly. This let Y/N know she was off to a good start. She hollowed her cheeks and leaned forward, pushing him farther down her throat. Draco jerked his dick forward, causing Y/N to gag slightly. He gazed down at her. “My little slut,” he mumbled. Y/N pressed her legs together, creating mild friction. She hesitantly pulled her lips backward so that she could place a hand on the base of his cock. Her slow rubbing caused Draco’s dick to twitch.

Y/N sucked him for what felt like hours. Her jaw was growing sore, and she was almost about to tap out when suddenly, Draco grasped her hair with both hands and slammed his cock to the back of her throat. He fucked her mouth fast, refusing to give her a chance to breathe. Tears were now streaming down Y/N’s face as she was used like a toy. He thrusted in and out a few more times before shooting his load down her neck.

When he pulled out, Y/N gasped for air, coughing a little bit as well. Draco crouched down and took her face in his hands, studying her. “Look at you, little whore. You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. Y/N said nothing as blush rushed to her face. Draco snickered and straightened his legs. He kicked off his pants and slippers and held out his hand. Y/N took it, and he helped her to her feet. Then, without warning, he hoisted her up into his arms and walked over to her bed. He dropped her onto it and spread her legs. Draco watched her squirm for a few seconds before he hopped on top of her and flipped them over so that she was now on top. “You know what to do.” Y/N glanced up at him and bit her lip. Slowly, she sat up and hovered over top of his cock, which had somehow already returned to full hardness. She glanced up at the Slytherin again. “Go on, don’t be shy.” And with that, Y/N lowered herself down onto him, moaning all the way. Draco smirked and watched his dick disappear inside her as she got seated.

Once Y/N had adjusted, she began to bounce; Draco’s dick slid in and out of her as he simply watched with his arms crossed behind his head. “That’s it, keep fucking yourself on my cock,” Draco purred. Y/N’s thigh muscles tensed as she increased her pace. Her tits began to jiggle slightly as she dropped herself onto Draco. Her pussy touched his skin with every bounce; the slight rub of her clit against him drove her crazy. Suddenly, she grabbed his hips for more leverage and began to slam her hips downwards, desperately wanting to feel more, more, more. Draco couldn’t take it anymore; the sight in front of him was too good. In a flash, he slapped her hands off of him and placed his on her hips. He picked her up and brought her down onto his cock, hard. Y/N was unable to contain her screams as Draco began pounding her from below. Her breasts were bouncing violently as lewd, wet slapping noises filled the red and gold-colored dorm room.

“Draco, can I cum? Please let me cum. I’m so close,” Y/N whispered, a strained squeal leaving her lips. Draco began to fuck her even faster. “Don’t you dare,” he grunted. Y/N cried out; she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it. “Please, I won’t be able to stop myself if you keep going,” she whimpered, feeling the coil in her abdomen grow. But then, Draco stopped. He dropped his hips and simply held Y/N down so that his cock was still buried inside her but unmoving. The blonde chuckled as he watched Y/N wriggle on top of him, trying to get him to move again. “No, no! Draco, please,” she whined, desperately wanting to reach her high. But before she knew it, the delicious feeling inside her had faded away. “Look at me, Y/N,” Draco commanded. She looked up at him; her face was scrunched up as if she were about to cry. Perhaps she was. “Convince me you’re a good girl, and I’ll make you cum.”

Y/N could hear her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She knew she was panicking, but she also knew she needed to come, so she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I won’t let Harry fuck me ever again!” Almost immediately after she said it, her hand flew to her mouth in shock. Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?” he asked. Y/N gulped but nodded, letting her hand fall. “Yes. You’ll be the only one… I promise,” she muttered. Draco sat up and took her face in his hand, pulling her chin down so that her mouth popped open. He stuck his thumb inside, and she instantly began to suckle on it. “You’re mine,” he growled as he latched his lips onto her neck, sucking hard. Y/N clenched around him and groaned as his teeth nipped her skin. “Fuck,” he muttered after pulling away. He then lifted her off of him and spun her around so that she was in his previous spot. He dropped her onto the bed, pressed his face in between her legs, and licked a long stripe up her slit. Y/N cried out in shock and pleasure. Draco’s tongue was relentless. He swirled it around her clit and then stuck it in her hole. He repeated this action multiple times, somewhat edging her. Her clit was throbbing and pulsing; she was already close again.

“Don’t stop, please,” she pleaded. Draco chuckled, his breath fanning over her wet, hot pussy. She couldn’t help but squirm as his tongue returned. This time he sucked on her nub. Y/N screamed and felt tears fall from her eyes. “You can cum. Cum around my mouth, slut,” Draco purred. Y/N didn’t need anything else; she came immediately after receiving permission. Her orgasm came in waves. Y/N’s body jolted with each one. Draco continued sucking on her throughout her climax. When it was over, he still didn’t stop. The overstimulation was too much for Y/N, but he didn't budge when she tried to push him away. Within another thirty seconds, Y/N was cumming again. She shrieked as her world stopped spinning. Her vision clouded, and her body went numb. Eventually, Draco pulled away and ceased his torment. He laughed lightly upon seeing the look on Y/N’s face. She looked, to put it frankly, fucked out.

“You alright there?” Draco asked while delivering a short slap to Y/N’s pussy. She groaned softly and opened her eyes. “Fuck you,” she breathed. Draco only smiled as he climbed out of bed. Y/N whimpered, not wanting him to go. “Hush, I’m only grabbing something to clean you up with,” he retorted. A few moments later, he walked back to her with a few tissues in hand. He gingerly wiped the soft material down her slit, causing her to whine from the sensitivity. But Draco was quick, and in no time, Y/N was all cleaned up. She sat up and rested her back against the headboard. Draco took the spot next to her and kissed the side of her head. God, he’s so confusing, Y/N thought to herself. And then it hit her.

She leaped out of bed with a gasp and scrambled for her clothes. “What’s wrong?” Draco asked, concern lacing his voice. “Harry. He’ll notice if I’m not there in the morning, I have to go," Y/N said. Draco frowned and watched as Y/N yanked her drawers open and searched for sleep clothes. He, too, got to his feet and began donning his discarded clothing. Y/N pulled a sweater over her head and headed for the door. But before she left, she turned to Draco. “What if he finds out?” she asked softly. Draco looked at her as he tied the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said while walking towards her. She gazed up at him, fear in her eyes. Draco sighed and pressed a kiss to her temple before walking out the door. Y/N stood frozen in her doorway; Draco’s sudden tenderness confused her. He kissed her after they had sex, he cleaned her up, and he’d just kissed her again. His kind gestures made her feel warm and fuzzy when she should hate him. Unfortunately, Y/N had no time to ponder this; she needed to get back to Harry.

She made no noise as she scampered down the steps into the common room. When she arrived, she saw the portrait closing behind Draco as he left the Gryffindor tower. Y/N stood still for a moment, then remembered what she was doing. Her feet carried her all the way back to Harry’s dorm. The door was still slightly open, just as she’d left it. Her shaky hand grasped the door handle and pushed it forward. Harry looked to be fast asleep. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and gently walked over to the bed. She lifted the covers and slid underneath them. Her eyes found the ceiling, and she felt guilt return to her stomach. But again, she pushed it away and let her eyelids shut. Sleep took her shortly.

----------

The sound of birds chirping woke Y/N. She opened her eyes to find she was in Harry’s bed. The memory of last night flooded back to her. Quickly, she turned to her left to see her boyfriend was gone. Y/N sat up and scanned the room. She jumped slightly when she saw Harry sitting by the window, his eyes glued to her. He looked...troubled. “Good morning, love. Did you sleep okay?” she asked.

“Where did you go last night?” Harry asked. His voice was heavy with anger, and Y/N felt herself begin to panic. Quickly, she conjured up a lie. “I went to go change into comfier clothes, that’s all.” Harry glared into her eyes and pointed to her neck. “What’s that then?” he asked. Y/N’s stomach dropped as she realized what Harry was gesturing to. “I know I didn’t give you that, so who did Y/N?” he asked condescendingly. Y/N remained quiet. She didn’t want to lie to Harry anymore, but also couldn’t bring herself to answer him.

“Who, Y/N? Who did you sneak out to see last night?” Harry interrogated. The jig was up; Y/N knew that. She felt tears fill her eyes as she whispered, “Draco.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry get to his feet. Y/N’s head snapped up, and she watched him storm towards the exit as her teardrops began to fall. “We’re done,” he said firmly as he ripped open the wooden door and slammed it behind him, leaving Y/N alone. She dropped her head into her hands and began to sob. What have I done?

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco malfoy smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x yn #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x gryffindor!reader #slytherin x gryffindor #harry potter smut #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #Smut #draco imagine #draco oneshot #draco series

888 notes · View notes

celerywrites · 3 years

Text

The Riddler is Not as Smart as He Thinks - Chapter 2

Jason Todd x trans masc reader

Chapter 1

The Riddler is looking for revenge on Nightwing, and he’s somehow got it in his head that you two are a couple, so of course you’d be the perfect bait in a trap. Except you’re not dating him, or anyone for that matter. (Not that you haven’t admired a certain other vigilante, but that’s neither here nor there when there’s a freaking bomb strapped to your chest.)

direct mentions of the reader having just gotten top surgery, he/him pronouns used for the reader

As it turns out "love" was not just meant to indicate you. That would have been too easy, considering they already knew you were missing.

It meant We Love Discount Fireworks on Valentino Street, because if The Riddler went with a theme, he went all in.

It also meant that there was more than one explosive device in the vicinity. A lot more. You really hope Red Hood doesn't go too trigger happy when he arrives to save you. If he arrives to save you. The bright green display of the bomb flashes a cheerful twenty minute warning at you, and you're really starting to stress about the very real possibility that you won't be found in time.

If you die, at least you know Robin will adopt your guinea pigs. He always opts to sit with them when he visits your apartment, sometimes sharing snacks with them if he's eating something healthy.

You can feel a tingling in your fingertips, and you're not sure if it means a panic attack is on its way or if your hands are finally going numb from the way you're tied to the chair. You'd rather go out with dignity, so you're hoping for the latter. You don't want to take your last breaths gasping and crying. It'd be more badass to go out screaming curses at The Riddler and maybe also at your friends for not arriving in time. Maybe you can even get in a dramatic monologue just to one-up your kidnapper. That would be nice. You feel like Red Hood would appreciate the theatrics of it, even if none of the others would.

You're just starting to plan your death speech, definitely sleep deprived and still concussed, when you spot something in the rafters. Someone. It's Red Robin, and he gestures for you to keep quiet when your eyes meet. You quickly drop your gaze, not wanting to tip off The Riddler or his henchmen to his arrival. You really hope the others are with him. Not that you don't trust him! You absolutely do. But you don't think you're going to be able to run well if things go south since your circulation is definitely a bit restricted by the ropes binding you, and you might need to be carried, which can't happen if he's busy fighting. Plus you still need someone to defuse the bomb.

When the fighting starts, it starts behind you, and you're more than a little annoyed that you can't see who's leading the rescue effort. You've patched up all the members of Batman's group at one point or another (well, except Batman himself), but that doesn't mean you can recognize the sounds of them in combat.

You do hear The Riddler when he speaks again, sounding winded, as if he's recently received a punch to the stomach. You really, really hope he did. "Ah, ah, ah, boys. No guns in the fireworks warehouse!" The tension in your shoulders eases a bit just knowing Red Hood is there. If anyone can get you out of here, it's him. "We're saving that for our big showstopper after all. We have to celebrate your best friend's successful surgery, and you can't do that without fireworks. It's a shame I was wrong about the dating thing. It really would have been a romantic display."

"Yeah, let's blow me up before I even go on a date with any of them. Real romantic, real celebratory," you mutter, squirming against the ropes binding your wrists. If you can get yourself untied, you can maybe help somehow. It's a strong maybe but it's there.

While sounds of combat continue behind you, two figures appear in your field of view. Robin and Red Robin both lean entirely too close to your still-healing chest to work on the bomb together. It's rare to see the two of them not arguing, but for once things are blessedly quiet between them aside from actual discussion of the problem at hand. There's no insults, just debate over which wire needs to be cut first. The display blinks a ten minute warning and continues counting down.

The countdown reaches five minutes when Robin calmly announces, "The bomb's fake," and rips it off of you without bothering to cut a single wire. Red Robin starts working on the ropes, and as soon as your hands are free you shake them in front of you, trying to get your circulation flowing again. Robin seems almost disappointed. He'd wanted to show off his bomb defusing skills, since you only get to do that once every few years in Gotham.

Whatever The Riddler's plan actually was for trapping Nightwing, it's not going well. You crane your neck to look behind you and see that his henchmen are already down, and he's not faring much better, caught between Batman and Red Hood with nowhere to run. Nightwing is calmly restraining the unconscious henchmen as if this is just another Tuesday for him. Maybe it is. You're not sure what level of danger is normal for these guys since you usually only see the aftermath.

When the rest of the ropes are off, you stand up, about as steady as a newborn deer. It's Batman who scoops you up, and okay, maybe you're a little disappointed not to be romantically carried out in Red Hood's arms, but you understand that things can't always go your way. Hood's still a bit preoccupied restraining The Riddler. You see him give the man an extra kick to the ribs, and you're not sure how to feel. Sympathetic because rib pain sucks? A bit gleeful because he did that for you? You end up deciding on a bit of both, but leaning strongly towards gleeful.

You're only about a block up the street with Batman when the reality of the night and your rescue starts to sink in, your entire body trembling with adrenaline. Batman murmurs something you don't catch, but you don't think it was directed at you anyway. You hope not, at least. If it was, he doesn't bother to repeat himself or look to you for an answer.

Just as your legs traitorously give out on you, you're scooped into a different pair of muscled arms, surrounded by the unmistakable smell of leather and gunpowder. Where before you'd been stiff and awkward as Batman carried you, now you melt into Red Hood's touch.

"What the fuck was that?" you ask him, tucking your face close to his chest. "Nightwing makes sure I'm recovering well from my top surgery, and The Riddler thinks I'm dating him because of it? What the fuck? How long was he watching my apartment? Is it-- Is it even safe for me to go home? Do I need to start apartment hunting again?" You ramble against him, still shaking a bit.

"You're not going home tonight," he replies, voice firm. "Gotta make sure your apartment's clear and gotta keep an eye on that concussion." Gloved fingers prod gently at the top of your head, and you realize for the first time that your hair is matted with blood. You raise your head to give him a horrified look.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Scalp wounds bleed a lot, but you're not dying or anything. We'll get you some clean pajamas and somewhere safe to sleep for tonight once we're sure your head's okay."

"I have work tomorrow," you argue, but you see Nightwing shake his head from the corner of your eye, and somehow you know they're not going to let you go to work.

"C'mon, you're getting a ride in the Batmobile, you get to see the Batcave. You get to cuddle with me the whole way back. It's gonna be great," Red Hood says, clearly trying to cheer you up after the night's events. You give him a small smile. The cuddling part does sound nice.

You let him set you carefully into the back seat of the Batmobile. Under normal circumstances you'd be thrilled at the opportunity, but right now you're just exhausted. When Hood slides in next to you, you lay your head right back on his shoulder and close your eyes, but as soon as you do he prods your arm.

"Eyes open. Can't risk you falling asleep, handsome." You grumble but open your eyes to find he's removed his helmet. You will never get tired of seeing his handsome face, and your expression must soften because suddenly he's smiling back at you.

In the passenger seat, Robin makes a noise of disgust. "Can you two wait until we're back at the cave before you start getting mushy?" Batman gives a gravely chuckle from behind the wheel.

"Where's Nightwing and Red Robin?" you ask, refusing to acknowledge Robin's comment, because if you do you know you'll get flustered.

"They're waiting for the GCPD to show up, and then they'll take my bike back," Red Hood assures you, only a little hurt that you're asking about his brothers instead of flirting with him.

And you don't flirt with him. The trip back to the Batcave is quiet, the only speaking being Red Hood's reminders to keep your eyes open and not fall asleep. You content yourself with totally platonic staring at Hood's face. Apparently even that is too much for Robin, because before the Batmobile is even fully parked he throws his door open and stalks across the cave, boots stomping with more noise than you've ever heard him make before.

"He's just mad he didn't get to defuse a real bomb," Hood assures you as he helps you out of the back seat.

You laugh and lean against him, letting him lead you to a medical station. He removes his gloves and sets to work gently cleaning the blood from your hair and scalp, seeing if it needs stitches. When he decides it does, he's the one to stitch you up, waving away the help offered by Batman and an older man in a suit you don't recognize. You take the bottled sports drink the man hands you, sipping slowly as you come down from the adrenaline rush.

"He can't sleep down here," Red Hood murmurs over your head to Batman. There's a question in his voice, but you don't have enough context to understand what he's actually asking.

"Hood," Batman sighs, sounding tired, as if this exact discussion has happened before. "You'd better be sure before you make any decisions like this. It's not just your identity you'd be revealing."

"I am sure," Red Hood argues, pulling you a bit tighter to him. You wince as his arm accidentally puts pressure on your chest. He murmurs an apology to you, eyes still on Batman.

Batman doesn't reply, simply stalking further into the cave and out of your line of sight. Red Hood either takes this to mean permission granted for... whatever he was asking, or he decides he doesn't care about permission. He tilts your chin up to look at him, and your breath catches as you realize his other hand is pulling off his domino mask. He's giving you his identity. Holy shit. As if tonight couldn't get weirder, you're finally getting to see the full face of the man you've been crushing on for months now. His eyes are gorgeous.

"Jason Todd," he says, giving you a nervous smile. "It's nice to finally tell you my name."

You don't care if it puts pressure on your chest as you pull him into a hug, because right now you're focused on just how much he's trusting you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jason," you say when you finally pull back. Both of you are smiling, just caught up in the moment, when Nightwing's voice sounds from across the cave.

"Just kiss him already!" You're not sure if he's talking to you or Jason, but both of you glare at Nightwing, earning a laugh as the man walks away to give you privacy.

You and Jason look at each other for a moment, both hesitant, and then at the same time you both lean in. The kiss is tentative, nervous, but it softens into something more meaningful as it goes on. You're thanking him for saving you, he's thanking you for accepting him, and both of you are clueing the other in on the feelings you've been sitting on for months.

There's a noise of disgust that you vaguely identify as coming from Robin, and you reluctantly pull back from Jason, who merely gives a boyish grin that makes him look years younger than his usual scowl.

"So... upstairs? I'll lend you some of my pajamas, we can watch a movie, it'll be great. Like a sleepover date, except I'm also making sure your concussion isn't anything serious. And then I'll take you on a real date sometime soon. If you want, I mean. You don't have to do anything, obviously, but I--" Jason rambles until you shut him up with another kiss.

"Sounds like a plan to me, but you owe me one hell of a breakfast tomorrow after everything that happened today."

"Deal," he chuckles, scooping you into his arms once again.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #trans man reader #trans masc reader #reader insert

57 notes · View notes