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ghost-proofbaby · 4 years

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christmas tree (roman godfrey x reader)

pairing: roman godfrey x reader

word count: 1,105

warnings: cursing, mentions/hints of childhood trauma/neglect, vague sexual innuendo at the end? (nothing too crazy)

request: “roman + christmas traditions” by anon :-)

a/n: i just wanna say thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last lil blurb with merkel, you’re all too sweet!! this one was originally meant to be more angsty, but i was listening to christmas music while writing it, and well… it’s hard to be angsty while listening to fun jazz. once again, please enjoy and any feedback or requests are not only appreciated but encouraged!!!

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“I still think this is stupid.”

You laugh at the umpteenth complaint of the hour from your boyfriend, Roman, as you continue to prick your fingers against the fake branches of the Christmas tree you two had set up in the living room. You’d been working at “fluffing” the tree the entire time while Roman sat on the couch, bitter and pouting like a toddler.

“I asked you if you’d prefer a real one and you said-”

“I’m not calling the fact that it’s fake stupid. I think the entire holiday is stupid,” Roman interrupts you as you finally give in and turn to face him.

“Didn’t you celebrate Christmas as a child?” you muse, walking over to him as he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Yes. That’s precisely the issue,” he fidgets as he says this, hands clasped uncomfortably in his lap, knuckles growing white.

You suddenly realize that Roman isn’t just complaining to annoy you like you’d been assuming. His shoulders are tense, even his jokes had been unlike him, flat and delivered in monotone.

“I know your mom isn’t the comforting type but…” you trail off, taking the seat beside him, “Did she really ruin Christmas for you?”

He doesn’t reply, grunting in return as his glare stays focused on the half done tree. The bottom half is spread out, and can almost pass for a real tree, but the top is still flattened from packaging. You watch Roman’s eyes travel upward, and his scowl only grows.

“She just had all these ridiculous traditions, that weren’t even truly about the family, just for show most of the time,” he hesitantly explains, turning his head and meeting your eyes finally, “I’m convinced everything that has to do with ‘celebrating’ Christmas is purely selfish.”

You smile sadly, shaking your head immediately, “No, no it doesn’t have to be, Rome. For your mom it might have been, but not for me,” you stand up, startling him in the slightest. He stares up at you, blank stare, as you reach out your hand, “Let me show you, yeah?”

You’re shocked when he actually does take your hand, standing up and yet still looking incredibly lost. It hadn’t gone over your head that him opening up like that was out of character, that it probably had been fairly hard for him. In all the years you’d known Roman, he hated speaking of his mother. Finding out what exactly had earned that hate from him had been like pulling teeth, constantly balancing between considering that that had just been who Roman Godfrey was, full of hate and all, and the possibility that his mother had been the one full of hate.

It hadn’t taken long to figure out it had been the latter.

Roman follows you over the tree, watching carefully as you mutter out a ‘watch me’, showing him how to unfold the branches. You repeat the action on a second branch, before motioning for him to try.

“You’re really trying to make me fall in love with a holiday through physical labor?” he complains, hands nonetheless making their way to another smushed branch and beginning to work on it.

“Hush,” you scold before making your way over to the stereo in the living room.

You turn it on to the holiday station, immediately hearing Roman groan across the room.

“Did I mention I hate the music? I hate that shit,” he calls out over his shoulder. You stay frozen in place, however, paying his complaint no mind as he continues to fluff the tree.

This was who Roman Godfrey was. Stubborn, grumpy, but especially malleable to those he loves. As he finished up the tree with ease, working at double the pace you had been, you can’t help but smile softly at him. His tongue pokes out between his lips in concentration as he reaches the tallest branches, stretching the slightest to guarantee their perfect.

You knew if he didn’t want to at least try for you, he wouldn’t have. He would still be on the couch, maybe even a beer in hand to quench his bitterness.

“Now what?” he questions, snapping you out of your daze as he turns to face you, backlit with a finished tree, barren and ready for decorations.

“Now,” you motion to a box on the floor you’d pulled from your garage, “for the fun part; we decorate.”

“Fun? That sounds like more physical labor.”

You roll your eyes, smiling widely and picking up the box of ornaments and garlands to place it on the couch to be more accessible, “Do we want gold or silver garland?”

Roman’s reply is immediate. “Gold. My mother always favored silver decorations so… definitely gold.”

“Gold it is,” you nod, pulling out the shiny and gouache garland from the box, handing it to him to start to place on the tree.

The two of you work quietly for a moment, allowing Christmas music and rustling of decorations fill the silence in the room instead. Roman only breaks it once you’ve started to put ornaments on the tree, looking particularly fondly at one from your childhood.

“Are there any other traditions your family did that you’d want to… You know, do, I guess?” he’s not as confident as he usually is, coming off a bit shy in a sincere way.

“Mostly all the sickeningly sweet family classics. Hot chocolate, movie marathons, those scented pinecones…” you pause to think of some more, but Roman interrupts you with sudden excitement.

“I wouldn’t mind those pinecones. The ones that smell like cinnamon or fucking whatever, right?”

You’re smiling wide enough that you can see Roman begin to fight his own grin, “Yeah, those.”

“I always wanted those. We should get some,” he mumbles, focused on looping a hook onto an ornament, the ghost of the smile still evident on his face.

“You know, we could always make our own traditions, too. They don’t all have to be passed down,” you say slyly, waiting until Roman looks back up at you, fully intrigued.

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, whipped cream isn’t just good on hot chocolate,” you play it off innocent, grabbing another shiny, red ball to hook on a branch, but Roman’s hand reaches out and grabs your wrist firmly to stop you in your tracks.

“Yeah? How would you know?” he’s got a devilish grin now, eyes trailing up and down your body before he licks his lips slowly.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you tease, starting to pull away your wrist.

However, Roman’s grip only squeezes tighter as he pulls you against him, whispering, “That I would.”

#roman godfrey #bill skarsgard #Bill Skarsgård #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #my writing #fluff mostly #christmas imagine #christmas blurb #idk what to call it actually #i had fun writing it though!!#thank you to the anon who sent all those prompts i really do appreciate it so so much #bill skarsgård x reader

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ker0senebunny · 2 years

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you've always had me✫*ﾟ･ﾟ(walking on a string ii)

steve harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader

part one

summary: steve misses reader a whole lot (dustin smacked some sense into him). now, how does he win her back? (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), UNPROTECTED SEX (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), kinda soft!dom steve? but no use of sir or daddy etc, apology sex, loss of virginity, PRAISE so much praise, oral (f!recieving), fingering, p in v sex, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, a little bit of roughness at the end (but not degredation or anything like that!! cheerleader!reader likes to be called pretty and good while she's getting railed), all characters are 18+, discussion of insecurities, soft tummy steve rights, NOT BETA'D (seriously if anybody wants to, pls shoot me a private message!)

word count: 6,187 (wowza! was not expecting that)

notes: THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS WTF!! when i published walking on a string, i had about 30 followers so thank you so so much for keeping up with my silly little writings. i'll do a little celebration party later - i’m thinking something along the lines of blurbs from a prompt list, so send in asks! without further ado, here's the second part! seriously, thank you all for all the love you've been giving me. it really keeps me motivated to write! i hope you all enjoy this part before i start my taylor swift trilogy and ballerina!reader oneshot!

p.s. i also got a couple of asks that have perhaps inspired a part three (!!!) in the adventures of steve and his cheerleader, so thank you to the anons who sent those in! lmk if you guys would be interested in that xoxo

the things you said are hanging in the middle of my mind, tonight.

i can’t turn them off.

you hadn’t been to family video in three weeks and steve desperately missed you.

winter had arrived in hawkins, bringing with it shorter days and longer restless nights. a tangy cold ran through the air, slipping under the door of the video store and creating a stupid fucking draft. steve watched the door anxiously as the stale air burned his nose. robin snorted. “dude, she’s not coming in,” she said. he huffed out a quiet “shut it, buckley” in response, keeping his eyes trained on the door. she rolled her eyes. “it’s your funeral, dingus.”

now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen you around town either. he never saw your sweet face at the grocery store. or in the park where sometimes, he'd catch you lying on a blanket, enjoying the pre-winter breeze and blasting duran duran on your walkman's tinny headphones. hell, he even went to the library to seek you out. but it seemed that you had just plain disappeared from his life.

only his life.

steve asked anybody who came into family video if they knew where you were; they always made some offhanded comment about seeing you at a party or at your favorite boutique. the one you always got your little low cut blouses from, where trina denman had made you cry once and so he chewed her out the next time she came in to rent a movie -- pretty in pink. your movie.

"steve, you are a dipshit."

steve rolled his eyes and turned his gaze away from the door to see dustin standing in front of the family video counter.

"tell me something i don't know, henderson."

dustin rolled his eyes right back before hopping over the counter to get into steve's personal space.

"hey! man, what the hell are you-"

"apologize to her."

steve was startled at dustin's sudden seriousness. he'd only ever seen the kid get serious about upside down stuff or d&d. or, when he talked about you. he knew that you two really got along when he introduced you to all of the kids, but your bond with dustin ran deeper. you both often met at the old creek to go look at the wildlife there. you taught him about the flowers and the moss that surrounded you both, palming crisp bark and teaching him to appreciate the world around him, inadvertently worming your way into steve's heart even more as dustin regaled him of these tales.

"dustin, she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"because you haven't apologized yet. jesus christ, steve. it's like talking to a toddler. i swear." robin let out a sharp cackle from where she was eavesdropping. steve flipped her off.

dustin sighed. he just wanted to see you and steve happy. he snapped his fingers in front of steve's face to get his attention.

"i'm not a fucking dog."

"i'd argue against that." dustin chose his next words carefully: "whatever you do next has to matter more to her than anything you’ve ever done before."

i'm in a twisted web,

and i can't pull my head from it.

that first day when you came in was one of the best days of steve's life. he couldn’t believe that you, the golden girl, were speaking to him with such softness. but then, the thoughts he tried to cram away constantly invaded his mind, clouding whatever emerging feelings he felt for you. steve decided for himself that you were playing a game - making him the fool. and so he decided on revenge - playing you right back. poking out his tongue whenever he looked you up and down (which was quite a common occurrence). letting you cuddle into him whenever the two of you were seated even remotely close to one another (this was definitely not for his benefit as well). posing for pictures that you’d take with your polaroid camera that was “so annoying” to him (he’d never tell you that the picture robin took of the two of you, your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lives in his wallet - next to the first of your little notes).

steve liked to take his time with things and he knew you needed space, but three weeks was a long time, right? it was too long of a time for you to have not pranced into family video, excited to show steve your newest purchase. too long of a time for him to go without smelling your peach shampoo on his sweater after you’ve fallen asleep during one of your many viewings of pretty in pink. he missed the sting of your manicured nails on his forearm when you were so excited to tell him about a new trick that you landed, that you physically glimmered. he realized with a start that he missed your silly notes and the mirth in your eyes as you laughed at a dumb pun he made. he missed how you would light up even more than usual whenever one of the kids said hi to you outside of one of their hangouts that they'd taken to inviting you to. he missed you.

and he fucking hated himself for it. he felt stupid, used, and above all -- guilty. why would he feel guilty if he saved himself from whatever heartache you could bring him? your teary face flashed in his mind.

oh.

because you hadn't been trying to use him -- you actually liked him. a lot.

and he definitely was a little bit (a lot) in love with you.

and he only just figured it out.

robin watched her best friend as his face changed. she snapped her gum in her mouth before plunking down on the stool next to him. "i smell wood burning," she said, "what are you thinking about?"

steve turned to her.

"i fucked up."

i hang my head

and feel the oxygen drain.

agonizing hours passed as he thought about what to say to you. he almost missed the tinkle of the bell above the door, letting him know that there was a new customer in the store. from where he sat, all he could see where white sneakers. his eyes snapped to the top of the doorway, and he shrank in disappointment. walking through the door was chrissy cunningham, not you. she was holding pretty in pink, no doubt to bring it to you to cheer you up.

so, it seemed that you were just hellbent on avoiding him.

chrissy gave him a polite smile as she brought it to the counter. steve cleared his throat. she nodded at him in greeting. robin stood a little further back, entranced by everything in front of her (did she sort of want her best friend to get punched by chrissy cunningham? …yes).

steve handed chrissy her change and just as she left, he jolted to his feet.

“wait!” he said, as if the words couldn’t wait inside his mouth any longer. she hesitated, already knowing what he was going to ask.

“how is she?” he said, eyes honest as he searched chrissy for an answer.

she set her mouth in a grim line as she shook her head at him.

“steve, i’m not going to lie to you. she’s really hurt.” steve felt his mouth dry up instantly.

“would she even want to see me?”

chrissy sighed exasperatedly and gave him a shrug before looking at his wounded face. for however much he was hurting, she knew you were hurting way worse. she slammed her hands on the family video countertop, mustering up as much of a threatening tone as she could, pushing herself to the tips of her toes to look steve directly in the eye.

“i have never known someone as kind or genuine as her,” the tiny girl said very seriously, “so you better fucking fix this harrington, because even though you’re a dickhead for what you did, i know you care about her. and for some reason, she cares about you too. probably too much.” steve opened his mouth to reply but chrissy jammed her pointer finger into his chest. “fucking. fix. it,” she said through gritted teeth before waving to robin and swaying out the door.

you're never running out of ways

to worm your way back in.

the past few weeks have been hellish for you, to say the least. getting not only rejected but belittled by steve harrington, the boy you…love? yeah, love would be the best way to put it. you'd pined after that idiot since freshman year, your feelings only intensifying with time and your prolonged visits to family video. those same visits evolved into impromptu sleepovers due to your absent parents, nights out when the local carnival was in town, watching out for the kids on halloween.

you pretended to be fine in front of your friends, a group made up of jocks and the cheer team. you knew that lucas sinclair, one of the new basketball players, was friends with steve. so you avoided him as much as possible, but that didn’t help. everywhere you went, you felt like steve was following you. seeing the people he loved (because he obviously didn’t love you) caused the rift within you, one searing with pain and self-loathing, to deepen.

there was less of a pep in your step. your gentle attitude remained, but you were more melancholic than anyone had ever seen you. sure, you were always willing to lend a hand or a listening ear, but as soon as you were left with your own thoughts, it seemed like a shade had passed over your demeanor.

you hadn’t let anybody into your room since the pep rally, sinking into a cocoon made of your duvet and throw pillows for hours on end. your walkman was always pumped up on full volume. crumpled tissues blanketed virtually every surface - a palpable reminder of his words to you that continued to hang in your mind. you tried to block them out - to block him out - but steve had become so engrained within your daily routine without you even noticing.

his yellow sweatshirt lay on your desk chair, directly in your line of sight, which didn’t help with your attempts to wallow and just get it over with.

you didn’t even let chrissy in to talk to you - she had to resort to seeing you in public or talking over the phone. your room was your safe space: your zone away from anything (or anyone) else but you.

which made steve’s raucous entrance at 2 am all the more unwelcome.

anyone who knows what love is will understand;

you’ve always had me,

walking on a string.

you’d finally been pulled under into what could almost be described as sleep when you heard a thump and a quiet “fuck me!” you were alone in your parents’ large house (something about visiting your dad’s old boss — you couldn’t care less), which made the nighttime extra unnerving to you as a young woman, alone in the middle of fucking nowhere. that was something steve had known about, before he broke your heart.

you shot up immediately, rolling out of your bed and grabbing one of your sneakers to hold up as a makeshift weapon. your eyes were wide with fear and your voice shook as you spoke, “don’t come near me, perv!” you launched the shoe at the tall, dark figure, striking them in the shoulder. whoever it was taken aback and made a noise of pain. you were reaching for your other shoe when you heard your name. “it’s just me, sweetheart.” you lowered your arm as you took in his outline in the dark. you didn’t need light to know what he looked like; you’d spent long enough memorizing every freckle on his face. the slight gap in his left eyebrow from when he got cut in a fight and it scarred. how the right corner of his mouth used to be permanently curled in a smirk around you.

you squinted still.

“stevie? did you sneak through my fucking window?”

you couldn’t help but use his nickname. three weeks of the cold shoulder doesn’t exactly undo months (nay, years) of pining.

“you could’ve used the front door, you know. my parents aren’t home.”

he hadn’t said anything to you yet, allowing you to fill the silence with your half-awake rambling. he gave you a sheepish smile as you moved to stand in front of him, looking up at him with your arms crossed over your chest in worry.

“why are you here?”

you hated how your voice cracked.

he looked down at the floor and then back at you, meeting your eyes. you hated how you immediately got sucked back into the warm umber of his gaze. he sucked in a breath through his teeth, shaking hands in his pockets.

“i need to tell you something,” he said with as much sincerity as he could pour into his words. you rolled your eyes, turning to get back into bed. “i think i’ve heard everything i need to hear, harrington.” he said your name pleadingly, reaching out to envelop your fingers in his.

you hated how you let steve's warm fingerpads trace the inside of your wrist.

you especially hated that it made you feel better.

“please let me say this and then i’ll be out of your life forever.”

you nodded.

“i didn’t think that you’d want anything to do with me.”

your heart ruptured.

he continued: “you’re this stunning, whip-smart, sweet girl who everyone loves. and i’m just this washed-up guy who chauffeurs for six children and works in a video store.”

steve paused to look at you, not quite understanding the emotion pressed into the creases of your face.

“i thought that your friends put you up to this - to me. i thought you were just using me to get a laugh, so i thought i would use you right back.”

tears bubbled up along your lower lashline. your lower lip wobbled as he poured out the deepest, darkest crevices of his mind to you in your moonlight bedroom. your eyes adjusted to see him

“but then i got to know you. like really know you. and i realized that you were one of my favorite people ever. and then i felt like i’d fallen into your trap. and so i lashed out and i was a fucking dumbass and ruined whatever i could’ve had with the girl i love. what i’m trying to say is - i was an idiot and i really don’t want this to end before we even had the chance to start it, sweetheart.”

you let the tears fall unknowingly, but unlike the gym, steve cradled your face gently in his hands, swiping away the beads of saline that ran down the apples of your cheeks. you sucked in a breath, but it felt like the oxygen cascaded out of you instead; you brought your face closer to his.

“you’re so fucking stupid, harrington.”

and then you were kissing him.

it felt completely natural to you both - no hesitating, no waiting. he moved his mouth over yours, pressing your scantily-clad pajama-covered body into him. you felt the softness of his stomach and the hardness of his chest against you as you tried to get yourself impossibly closer. from where his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, you saw some of his chest hair. a path of warmth made its way down to the root of your core. he pulled away and you whined, chasing his mouth with yours.

he breathed out your name like it was a poem.

your smile was just as bright as it usually was, even through all of the salty wetness sliding down your face.

“i love you, stevie."

he looked at you like he wanted to bring the stars closer, just so you could get a better look.

"say it again," he teased gently as he nosed at your throat, prompting you to lift your chin and expose your neck. he started to pepper open mouthed kisses on your neck.

"i-i love you."

he sucked harshly on one spot, making you softly cry out. you pulled back and watched his pretty face form a pout.

"but you’re gonna have to make it up to me.”

he looked down at you with a boyish smirk, before dipping down to meet your lips with his once again.

“i can think of at least one thing that might help.”

he kissed you with a ferocity, a deep-seeded wanting. you sighed into the kiss and whimpered when you felt his tongue nudge against the seam of your mouth. you opened your lips in a surprised moan and he slipped his warm tongue in, licking the roof of your mouth. you let out another whimper, and he groaned. “those sweet little noises are gonna fucking kill me, baby.” his words were strained, his voice raspy, lips slick with a mixture of yours and his spit. you felt your face warm to match the heat emanating from your sex. he dove in to kiss you again, gently leading you toward your bed.

your back hit your cornflower-dotted duvet as steve caged you within his arms. your hands had made their way into his hair, mussing it far past anything that a few puffs of farrah fawcett hair spray could ever remedy. you felt the ache between your thighs grow and in your steve-induced haze, your hips jolted up to meet his. you were surrounded by him: the feel of his warm, wet mouth on yours. his smell -- lemongrass shampoo and pine cologne and something that just made him steve. steve tasted like promises and the cherry slushee he'd gotten with robin after work. his rough fingertips soothed over the spot at your waist where your flimsy tank top had risen. you maneuvered your hips over his groin again. the tiny bit of friction that his rough, tented jeans provided against your throbbing clit made you whine out his name.

“stevie,” you pleaded.

he moved his lips down your neck, lapping at your pulse and leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. the stimulation only made you move your hips more in desperation. you were already surprisingly close — not even nights alone in your room with your hands shoved down your cotton panties, imagining this very moment, were you ever close this quickly. one of his hands came down to squeeze your hip — not harshly, but as a reminder that he was in charge. he pulled away when he felt you move your hips again. he sighed. “pretty girl, i want to take my time with you. be patient.”

you looked at him through your heavy lashes, pouting a little as you grabbed for him to come back closer to you. “but i wanna feel you!” you exclaimed, pulling him down toward you to latch on to his neck and grind up toward his bulge. he hissed as you found his sweet spot, right between where his collarbone meets his neck. he panted out your name as the hand gripping your hip got tighter; you could see the hand near your face clench into a fist and he breathed shakily. “i want to feel you too, but i have to get you ready first, sweetheart. is that okay?”

your heart swelled so much you thought it might beat its way through your chest. you nodded bashfully as his hands finally slipped under your tiny pajama tank top. steve kissed you as his fingers danced over your ribcage. you shivered at their warmth and giggled when he intentionally tickled you. you felt him smile into the kiss (which did almost make your heart explode). but all thoughts of just how much you loved him went out the window when you felt his hand rub over one of the stiff peaks of your covered breasts. you arched upwards, pushing your chest into his hand. he chuckled at your eagerness and detached himself from your wanton mouth to remove your tiny top. your breasts met the air and steve looked at you in wonder, as if you deserved to be immortalized in the louvre. “god, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

you suddenly felt shy, his words bringing you back into the present. here you were, topless with steve harrington giving you hickies. you grabbed his bicep gently with nerves puddling in your still lust-blown eyes.

“stevie, wait.”

he immediately gave you space, asking you oh so kindly, “is everything okay, baby?” you nodded. “more than okay. i just…” your voice faltered and you looked at your hands. he put his hands on the sides of your face, letting you sink into their warmth and weight. “it’s okay, pretty girl. you can tell me anything.” you bit your already kiss-bruised bottom lip.

“it’s just that i’ve never…this is the furthest i’ve ever been with anyone,” you rushed out. you desperately hoped that you hadn’t ruined things with him again. he sponged a kiss to the tip of your nose before saying, “i won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” your eyes widened and you placed your hands over his on your face. “no no! i just wanted to let you know before we did anything else. i want it to be you, stevie. i love you.”

he smiled at that. “i love you too, sweetheart. god, i can't stop saying it.”

it was a miracle that your heart had still remained lodged in your chest at this point.

“kiss me, please,” you cooed, and he happily obliged, removing your thin pajama shorts in the process.

he left soft, wet kisses along the column of your throat, biting down gently on the top of your left nipple when he arrived at your tits. “perfect tits” as he called them. you squeaked and he laughed, the vibrations around your puckered bud heading straight to your pussy. you half-believed that your panties would be sheer from how wet you were.

he kneaded and pinched at your right nipple as he laved his tongue all over your left, giving you little nips that made you squeal and kisses that made you melt under him. he alternated between breasts and when your tits were sufficiently marked with imprints of his teeth, he placed his hand over your searing cunt. he watched your face change, your eyes rolling back, from the lightest of touches. you were equally as whipped for him as he was for you. steve groaned as he felt your thighs trap his hand, pushing the wet part of your panties into him. his eyes rolled back at the sight before him, your tits marked with his teeth, your eyes darkened for him, your pussy rutting into his hand, all covered in white cotton panties with a little pink bow. you whimpered when he took his hand away, searching for relief as your clit pulsed.

“what did i say, pretty girl?”

“that i have to be patient,” you answered shyly. he hummed.

“good girl.”

you burned from head to toe at his words.

he peeled your panties off of you, inhaling sharply as a string of your arousal connected you to the sopping cotton, only snapping once he had your panties partway down your thighs. “all for me, sweetheart?” you nodded shyly and pressed your thighs together, but he caught you and spread them again. “i wanna see you, baby,” he said before lowering himself to face your drooling cunt.

he licked a fat stripe up your slit, making you jump a little and let out a breathy gasp. steve grinned before spreading your folds with his hands and prodding at your quivering hole with his tongue. he moaned at your taste — tart and heady and you. you moaned as he sponged wet kisses to your folds, before moving up your thigh toward your needy clit. he looked you in the eye as he devilishly licked around the bud before latching his mouth onto you. steve sucked your clit into his mouth, gently brushing his teeth across your sensitive bud. you rushed your hips to meet his face and your hands flew to his head again. he gave a little laugh at your want. he kept his mouth attached to your clit as he gathered dipped his index finger into your folds, gathering your slick before pushing into your poor little hole. he muttered a curse under his breath.

“shit, sweet girl. you’re so fucking tight.” you contracted around his fingers at his voice, about to reply before he put his mouth back on your clit, sucking harsher than he had before. you felt yourself get impossibly wetter as steve began to pump his finger in and out of your entrance. you tried to move yourself on his hand, pleading for “more, stevie, more!” his middle finger slid in to join his index and you hissed at the stretch. he stopped to let you adjust and you marveled at how full you felt just because of two thick fingers. he eased the two of them in and out of you slowly, spreading you open for him. you were so lost in the pleasure that he was doling out that you almost missed his calls of your name.

“baby, can you take another one? d’you think you can?” his face had moved to hover over yours now; you could see your juices on his chin. you nodded frantically, shifting back and forth on his already dripping fingers. “please stevie — need it. need you.” he kissed you heatedly as he inserted his ring finger, swallowing your gasp with fervid swirls of his tongue. you keened as you felt the girth of three fingers inside of you; your fingers and imagination couldn’t do steve’s hands justice. he gave an experimental thrust, keeping up with his assault on your clit, with the heel of his hand. he kept kissing you, switching between gentle presses of his mouth to yours and hot, frantic swipes of his tongue. he noticed your cunt start to pulse, steadily getting tighter as you mewled. his fingers squelched as he slid them in and out of your sopping cunt. “steve, stevie, m’gonna-” you could barely get the words out before you let another loud moan. “gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he teased, speeding up his ministrations. your voice was but a shred in the back of your throat at this point; the only response you were able to give him was a high-pitched sob. your mouth fell open and your head tilted back, renewing him access to your neck and chest. you felt yourself tighten even more as his lips brushed across the tender bruises he’d already made. the combination of his lips on yours, on your skin — his hand between your thighs — you were completely surrounded by him. he was knuckle deep by now, allowing your gummy walls to suck him in. your nails cut into his biceps as you breathed rapidly. “cum for me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth. at his permission, you let the taught string in your body snap. your walls tightened like a vice around his fingers, so tight that steve swore it could’ve cut off his circulation. your cunt fluttered around the fingers seated deep inside of you. your back arched off the bed and your gut tightened as the intensity of your orgasm washed over you in waves. your vision blurred as your body went limp, twitching with aftershocks. you said his name like a prayer through it all, finally blinking to clear your vision. you were met with his smug face as he gave you one last push with his fingers. you squeaked at the contact and he smiled at you, giving you a doting kiss on your swollen, bitten lips.

“all good, baby? you were so good for me. my good girl.”

you nodded, thoroughly exhausted, but also craving him. “stevie, i wanna feel you inside of me,” you said, giving him your best puppydog eyes. he gave you an easy smile, before searching the pockets of his jeans for a condom. “oh shit,” he said, exasperatedly. you sat up with a frown as he rooted through his belongings. “stevie, honey, what’s the matter?” he looked at you apologetically. “i don’t have a condom,” he said dejectedly. you reached out to kiss the corner of his mouth, to push the frown off of his face. you gave him a small smile and said, “s’okay! ‘m on the pill.” his pupils dilated, darkening his eyes so that only a sliver of hazel showed. “and i’m clean, because, yanno…”

“fuck,” he rasped out, “you can’t say shit like that to me, baby. i’ll cum in my pants like a fuckin’ dope.” you laughed your real laugh, his favorite laugh, and in that moment, he felt overwhelmed with love for you. so overwhelmed that as he pulled his cock out, he told you again. he called your name softly to get your attention.

“i love you so goddamn much,” he said, pouring every drop of earnestness he could into his words. now that he knew that his words actually did matter to you.

“i love you too, steve harrington,” you said as you leaned up to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. he chased your mouth with his to lay a series of quick kisses to your lips, muffling the giggles that tumbled from your throat. he rose to his knees above you and shucked off his jeans and his boxers.

now, you’d never seen a cock before in your life, but fuck, were they all as pretty as steve’s? his cock was just, so pretty: a red tip that gave way to a flesh-toned shaft, thick with a vein on the underside of his length. his head was leaking in frustration. your eyes widened as you took him in, wondering if his massive shaft would be able to fit inside of you.

he teased his ruddy tip through the wet mess between your thighs, stroking himself with your cum from earlier. he placed one of his hands on your hip, interlacing the fingers of his other hand with yours, letting your entwined hands rest by your head.

“are you ready, sweetheart?”

you gave a soft “yes” in reply and gulped down a breath. he noticed how you tensed up and squeezed your hip gently. “we don’t have to if-” “no!” you exclaimed, “i want to it’s just…what if i’m not good?” his heart almost shattered as he looked at the worry written across your sweet face. he brought his lips to the crease between your brows, pecking you there to tell you to relax your face. “you’re perfect to me already, baby,” he said, oh so honestly. and you believed him, because it was your stevie looking at you like you were the only real thing in his life. “okay, i’m ready,” you said, relaxing into your bed a little more.

steve guided his tip to your quivering entrance and kissed you as he slid the fat head of his cock in. you gasped as he breached your walls, arms winding around his neck. your jaw fell open, slack against where your chin rested on his shoulder, almost impossibly close to him. the fullness of his fingers was one thing, but this was totally different. the stretch was addictive as he slid into you inch by inch. he worked you open gently, and you wanted him to stay inside you forever. he noticed that you’d gone quiet and brought a hand up to comb through his hair in order to see you better. “everything okay?” you nodded fervently, wriggling your hips and mewling out, “stevie more, more.” at your words, he bottomed out, heavy balls slapping against your ass and you made a strangled noise into the air as he moaned into your neck. “fucking- holy shit, you feel so good.” your walls contracted around him and steve had an idea. he started slowly thrusting into you, allowing you to get adjusted to the feeling of his heavy cock inside of you. all the while, dripping praise into your waiting ears.

"you're doing so well f'me," he said, still thrusting into you slowly -- wanting to make this about you, not him.

but something inside him snapped when you said, “stevie, fuck me.” he started pounding into you, jackhammering his hips against yours, making your eyes roll back so far in your head that all you could see was black. his chest hair brushed against your nipples, meaty thighs brushing against you with coarse hair during every thrust. you choked out a loud moan at the sensation, clapping a hand over your mouth at the volume. he noticed that your sounds had become muffled and whispered into the air between you two: “c’mon pretty girl. i wanna hear those sweet sounds you make.” his balls slapped against your ass as he rolled his hips into yours; the sounds of flesh against flesh ricocheted off the toile wallpaper in your bedroom. the wetness between your thighs kept spreading, creating a lewd slap as he plunged into you over and over again.

his spongy tip pushed against your g-spot and you clenched around him desperately. he moaned at the sensation, muttering a curse under his breath and something about how tight you were. you bit his shoulder after a particularly hard thrust, causing him to hiss and shudder. your walls started to spasm around his cock as that big vein of his pummeled into your sticky cunt. your whimpers became faster and higher as you chased your orgasm, steve right there with you. “stevie!” you yelped as he continued his brutal pace. “’m right there with you, baby. let go,” he whispered, his lips covering yours. you did just as he asked, a borderline pornographic whine slipping its way out of your throat and plastering itself across his mouth. you clenched impossibly tightly around him, stuttering out, “want it inside, please stevie,” as you were pushed over the edge. your pussy pulsed and your body shook, muscles tense as he milked your puffy cunt for all of your juices. you sobbed while you came; it was the hardest you’ve ever cum, your intense love for steve amplifying every shockwave. your legs were wrapped around him, heels digging into his back as he gave you one lasting thrust, his hips stuttering. you felt a warmth extend through your weeping cunt as he painted your sweet walls. the feeling of his hot ropes of cum filling you caused you to tighten around him once again, riding out the last waves of your orgasm.

neither of you moved for a while as steve remained inside of you, both of you at a loss for words. he raked a hand through his sweaty brunette mop and gave you a kiss, pushing all of his feeling into it as he eased out of you. you whimpered at the resulting emptiness, reaching your arms out to keep him in bed with you. he smiled, dropping a smattering of kisses to your face. you giggled and held his head in your hands to catch his lips. he pulled away with one final peck to your lips, pulling on his boxers. you sat up with a melancholy look in your eyes, but he squeezed your ankle in reassurance, telling you that he was “just gonna go ‘n get a washcloth for you, sweetheart.”

he returned moments later from your ensuite with a damp cloth, kissing up your leg as he wiped down the apex of your thighs. he wiped himself off and grabbed his shirt for you, gently telling you to raise your arms as he slipped it over your head. he lay down and opened his arms for you, as you giddily landed on his chest. you reached over him to turn on your bedside lamp and he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“just wanna look at you s’all,” you said delicately, as you let your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck. his heart stumbled at your words and he squeezed you tighter.

“i’m sorry,” steve said again, “i love you so, so much.”

you yawned and snuggled into him, throwing your other arm across his body, murmuring into the air shared between you two: “you’re the only one for me ever, stevie.”

he looked at you in the buttery light of your bedside lamp, half-asleep on him, drowsily babbling about everything you loved about him (his jokes, his freckles, his loyalty), nose squished into his neck as far as possible.

and he realized, in that moment, that he’d always walk on whatever string you led him on.

© ker0senebunny. all rights reserved. all original posts of writing are my own words, with the exceptions of quotations from songs, movies, and other media. my work is NOT to be crossposted to another platform, copied by anyone, or translated without my express and explicit permission.

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #cheerleader!reader

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saltymongoose · 2 years

Note

Lovebug is back!

Size difference is the big idea!A Player who actually likes being smaller than almost everyone in Nevada and uses it to their advantage! What if the player used their smaller, non-threatening-ish appearance to pull enemies into a state of confusion before letting their boys go to town? That was the idea originally. But, then I thought it would also be fun to just have a player who loves being surrounded by powerful people (there is a sprinkle of liking to be intimidated in there as well).

Sure, they may be the most powerful being in Nevada, but if they weren't, most of the people they came across could snap them like a twig. And having their grunts constantly surrounding them is like a dream come true! It makes them feel protected and safe.

(If one of their vessels ever does the lean against the wall thing next to them, they'll pass out.)

Size difference is so much fun to dabble with!

Do you have any favorite size difference headcanons?

I'm sorry if this is long, it's not really an ask. But you write so well! It never ceases to amaze me! You make all of your posts so detailed and I love hearing your opinion on these!

Thank you for all that you do! You're a gift to the fandom!

~Lovebug Anon

Hey there Lovebug Anon <3, it's about time I get around to answering your wonderful prompts. This is a very, very late response (I believe this ask was originally sent around April ((⊙_⊙')) to give everyone an idea), so I sincerely apologize. That being said, thank you for the compliments in this ask, I appreciate your kind words more than you could know. :') ❤️

[SAM:PN] General Height Difference Headcanons ft. Hank, Deimos, Sanford, & 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior. This is pretty fluffy.)

It was clear to you from the moment you first met that the height difference between you and your vessels was staggering. They towered over you, no matter how short they would be considered by grunt standards. To their enemies, it only served to make them more intimidating (especially for those like Hank, which were well above the ordinary height typically found in their species).

However, in your eyes, it couldn’t be anything but beneficial. Being as short as you were (compared to them, at least), gave you a clear advantage when it came to being on the battlefield. With your grunts obscuring the view of your enemies, you could rest easy knowing that the likelihood of you actually being targeted when controlling them was very small. Plus, if anyone did see you first, the confusion of being met with such a small form would give your grunts the perfect opportunity to ambush.

Other than this though, there was admittedly some personal enjoyment you took in being surrounded by such tall, powerful people. You couldn't help it; the feeling of absolute comfort and safety you got from being near them and knowing that they wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to you was just unmatched.

Plus, a part of you simply liked how they loomed over you, as odd as it sounded. It's the same one that made you blush when they leaned in close to you, and the one that made your heart quiver in your chest when they wrapped an arm around your body in a casual gesture. They didn't even mean to fluster you when it happened, and truth be told, this made it slightly embarrassing for you. Yet even so, you couldn't stop yourself from reacting this way; you just liked how tall they were compared to you, that is all. (It wasn't exactly a bad thing, anyway.)

Your vessels all have their own thoughts on your height difference though.

Beginning with Hank, he sees height as being a tool for intimidation, and one that’s very easy for him to use specifically. As the tallest of your vessels, he’s aware of the fact that your enemies are more likely to be scared of him just because of how he stands out like this (barring his reputation as Nevada’s most dangerous mass murderer, of course).

Other than this, Hank has very little regard for it. It makes scaring people easier, but it wasn’t something he focused on; such a natural thing that required absolutely no effort from him didn’t deserve such consideration when he was so busy with other, more pressing matters. However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t notice how you reacted to it.

Hank pays more attention to you than anything else, so of course his attention is peaked by the way you blink up at him with soft doe eyes when he leans a bit closer to you, and the flush that appears on your face as his taller form takes up more of your space. He doesn’t know why you act like that at first, and honestly at the moment he doesn’t care to ask that question. Not when he’s too entranced by the way you look, appearing so adorably mystified by his form for whatever reason.

He figures it out soon enough though, and once he does, he grows to appreciate his natural height far more than before. As the tallest, and having the most noticeable height difference with you, it is rather simple for him to elicit these reactions from you, and he finds that he loves doing it.

He’ll try to be around you a lot after that, and as close as he can manage, no matter what the others might think. (Making them jealous was just another bonus for him.) He’ll lean over you and tug you into him, covering your body with his as he purrs and takes in your cute gasps and how your face warms. Instead of simply staying next to you, he’ll be as imposing on your space as is comfortable for you both, seeking to try and accentuate the difference in your height. (Which, again, is very easy. You barely reach his chest, just which makes you more cute in his eyes.)

Another bonus to being the tallest of your vessels is that it makes him the best candidate for your main protector, at least in Hank's view. He's technically the person in the best position to protect you from view and shield you from harm, simply because he's so much bigger than you. If anything, this further proves that he was made to be yours, and to be your only necessary vessel. With how much you seemed to like your height difference, and how he was made better at protecting you because of it (far more than anyone else), it was only common sense.

On the other hand, Deimos likely didn’t notice your reactions to his height at first, but it was purely because he was too busy fawning over how short you are compared to him. He was the last on the list of your vessels in terms of height, and while he certainly wasn’t insecure about it, he was pretty happy to experience what it was like to have someone smaller than him in almost every way. The fact that it was you made it all the more special, though.

Deimos is the first to actually tease you over your height difference, but in a purely joking kind of way. He’ll rest an elbow on your head or quickly put something you need on a higher shelf before you come into the room, just so he can be the first to offer you help. Verbal teases are to be expected as well, mainly asking if you need help reaching something when you clearly don’t, or calling you "shawty" (because he heard you say that word once, and of course he'd repeat it afterward).

Once he actually notices how you react when he leans in close to tell you a joke or give you a side-hug, his teases take another direction. Simple jokes turn become more pointed; instead of just mentioning your height in a joking way, it's the difference between you that he'll seek to exploit - and not for mere humor anymore.

So he'll lean a bit closer than you both know is necessary, rest a bit more of his body on you when he gives you an embrace, and linger like that for longer than what would be normal. In addition to this, he also already knows how much you like his voice too, so he decides to see what’ll happen if he combines these two factors.

It’s honestly kind of overwhelming for you; having him suddenly get into your personal space when you're doing something simple like making yourself a meal, boxing you in with his arms and leaning some of his weight on you. His body heat is almost dizzying, and it certainly doesn't help the rushing pace of your heart when he comes even closer, so you can feel his breath against you when he purrs an innocent question about what you're doing (though it's followed by a petname rasped lowly into your ear).

Perhaps it's playing dirty since he's deliberately using something you can't help liking against you, and honestly, a part of him considers holding back on it. (He loves flustering you like this, but he wouldn't want to overstep and make you uncomfortable instead.) And he would, if you didn't lean back into him when he did it, sometimes even burying your face into his chest to try and hide your blushing face from him (which is just adorable to him). You seem to like these little moments, and of course he does, so why would he stop?

If anything, the fact that he can elicit such reactions with the combination of his height and smooth voice (something that he sees as unique to himself) is just another tool he can use to get you to fall for him. All so that you'll love him and his company just as much as he loves yours.

Sanford is another one who noticed how you get when he’s close, but at first, he didn’t think it was because you liked his height of all things. In all honesty, he probably just thought that the fact that he’s always shirtless is what flusters you so much since nobody else in your group shows off as much skin as he does. Then he takes note of how you react when any of them get into close contact with you and it clicks.

He’s actually above average in height from grunt standards, but it’s not something he pays much attention to. Sure, other prospective partners have mentioned it in the past, but as weird as it sounds, no one's opinion on him has mattered as much as yours does, so he’s honestly very flattered. It makes him pretty bashful too; he knows his musculature makes him stand out more than anything, but having the person he adores fawn over something so minuscule to him must be a good sign for your impending relationship, right?

Getting close to you and showing off his strength through carrying you are things that he does quite a lot, even before figuring out how much you like your height difference. As such, you've just incentivized him to do it more often. After all, if you enjoy having the height difference between you both made to be really noticeable, then there's no reason for him not to.

Sanford also finds the way you look when he does it to be really cute; you appear so small compared to him when you're being held to his body, all cozy and safe in his toned arms. Your face is flushed, and he can feel your breath hitch when he adjusts you in his grip, your fingers flexing from where they're rested on his shoulder and chest.

He worries that he overdoes it sometimes, since you both know that picking you up as much as he does is pretty unnecessary (like those few times he just elected to do it instead of getting something off a shelf for you). You don't mention it though, just content to lean into his embraces with a crooked smile, sighing happily even as your face heats. Sanford hopes the way his heartbeat picks up isn't too noticeable. (It's not like he can care that much though, not when he dares to squeeze you to him a bit tighter and you relax even more in his hold.)

Sanford eventually finds that he also quite likes the difference you have (perhaps even a bit too much, in his mind). You’re usually too flustered to notice, but when you do, it’s impossible to ignore the way scarlet colors his cheeks and dusts his torso when you find yourself in his personal space (even if he's trying to keep his face impassive as usual). It's cute, for someone who's famous for such unsavory things.

The height difference also makes a deeper feeling of protectiveness surge up in him. You might be one of the most powerful beings in Nevada, but you just look so small and fragile compared to grunts. Sanford was already dedicated to defending you at every turn, but this just makes it more important for him in a way (if that were even possible). He wants you to rely on him as your protector, and what better way to do that than showing off his strength and how he can use his more imposing stature for your benefit?

He's always been yours to control; always ready and willing to give anything and everything of himself just for you and your favor, all with the hopes of you returning these deep affections he holds. So why not just use him and him alone?

With 2BDamned, his fascination with your height difference first comes from a purely clinical perspective. He’s been interested in human anatomy since your existence first became known to him, and wants to learn all that he can in regards to anything related to it. (How would he be competent at taking care of you if he didn’t know anything about your species?)

As such, he’ll view it as another opportunity to ask about the differences between you. Are you considered tall or short according to your species’ average? Why are humans so short compared to grunts? Are there any advantages to humans being so small? Questions like these are his main focus, and in addition to this, the fact that humans are so small will also make him more concerned for your well-being when out in the field.

(Sanford, Deimos, and Hank are becoming quite annoyed at how often he checks in through their comms to see if you're alright. What did he think they were, 1337 Agents? Of course you were okay, you had them.)

Considering how he spends less time around you than the others (when you’re not back at the base, that is), he doesn’t have as many opportunities to really look at his own height difference with you. Nor does he take much notice of how you might react to it as a result, which holds off his realization of it.

This changes with the first of his rushed “examinations” on you, after you happened to get a bit scratched up while on a mission with the others. He was standing very close to you, hands darting over your body as he carefully moved your limbs around, checking for bruising and bleeding while harshly lecturing your three main vessels.

Doc first thought the color on your face and the heat that seeped through his gloves when he touched your face was from exertion or pain, a sign of an injury that he might’ve missed. That's until he notices that it only gets worse when he comes closer to inspect you further, inadvertently looming over you as he leans down to get closer to your face. It only hits him when you avert your eyes from him shyly, lips drawing into a small pout as you try to hide the full extent of your blush from him. (It's embarrassing, all he's doing is checking you over for injuries.)

He seemed to pause for a split second when he noticed but quickly got back into ranting towards the others about their "neglect" of you, trying to ignore the way he could feel a smile spreading across his face underneath his mask. So that's why you're so flushed around them.

Doc is very tempted to see how far he can go with it, to view just how you react to the different ways he can show off his height difference with you. But he doesn't. Or rather, he won’t go to the same lengths that others would; he's confident enough in himself, generally speaking, but the uncertainty he feels regarding how to go about bonding with you will hold him back from going all out (as much as he'd like to).

That doesn’t mean that he won’t stand a little bit nearer to you, or stay for a few seconds too long when he needs to lean over you to reach something - perhaps even take a leaf from Deimos' book and say something to you in that smooth voice of his when he's so close - but anything beyond that is unlikely. (Unless driven as a direct reaction to one of the others pulling something, of course).

It's a more subtle build-up with him, but that's how he prefers to show his love to you anyway. The last thing he'd want to do is rush in impulsively and foolishly ruin things between you, especially after that unfortunate first impression he made. Besides, 2BDamned has always been incredibly patient, and you'd be worth an eternity of pining while he decides on what actions to take. So long as he can prove himself good enough to you in the end, worthy of your love and praise, he'd be willing.

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simplysimpingsimp · 3 years

Note

Can I’m have tomioka x mermaid reader who have shiny scales and also throw water on shinobu face every time she’s say to tomioka that nobody likes him headcanons please

Hi hi anon!! Thank you for sending in a request <3 I’m super sorry for taking a bit to get to you TT I think this such a cute prompt haha I can definitely imagine a splash on shinobu’s face after she teases Giyu. As always, I’m super sorry for any mistakes ! Please feel free to let me know about fixing or changing anything, I will gladly do so <3

💧—————————————————————💧

💧 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛

💧 𝙺𝚗𝚢 𝙶𝚒𝚢𝚞 𝚡 𝚐𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

💧 𝙵𝚝. 𝙶𝚒𝚢𝚞 !

💧 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍: 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢/𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

💧 𝚃𝚆/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 !

💧—————————————————————💧

Giyu definitely thought they were a demon

“Not a demon, just a mermaid! See?” They would show him the reflection of their tail covered in sparkling f/c scales that glowed beautifully in the white toned moonlight and one of their harmless water spells that just made water glow

“Just when I thought I’ve seen it all…” he’d say sheathing his sword and kneeling down on the dock to come closer to their face

Looking into their e/c eyes, he could see they were genuine and warm and really cute

Mans would blush whenever he would see them — he was a little stunned by the fact that mermaids exist and that they were actually beautiful and some freaky scaley creatures

He loved the sight of their tail reflecting the moonlight like glittering gems, there was something so beautiful about it

After the first encounter, he would frequently visit them — enamored by their bubbly personality and how kind they were to him though he would cringe with all the puns

Giyu enjoyed the little gifts they would bring him like pretty rocks and shells, even a pearl and the strangest treasures

“Please take care of that! The sweet little oyster that I got it from wasn’t too appreciative of me taking it,” they would speak sheepishly with a smile

In exchange, he would show them things like flowers, leaves, minerals and food

He would always love to see the curious expression on their face and the glimmer of knowledge in their eyes as he watched them examine every little part of what he would bring them

Giyu would explain to them what the things he was showing them were, he would laugh quietly hearing their ooohs and ahhs about everything

“Tomioka, why haven’t you killed the demon yet?” An unfamiliar voice spoke out just as they were talking to Giyu

They turned to see, immediately dodging the unknown blade skimming the top of the water, Giyu pushing the girl away

“Protecting a demon? Tsk tsk..That’s why no one likes you, Tomioka,” she spoke elegantly and smoothly, now getting a better glimpse of her as they peeked out of the water to see Giyu holding his ground

A pout formed on Y/n’s face as they heard her say those words

They sent a few bubbles of pure water into her face, harmlessly splashing her

“I like him!” They would speak loudly from the dock, “I think he’s really sweet and kind! He’s a really interesting human and I consider him my friend!”

“And I’m not a demon! A mermaid , mer-maid!” They would call out as Giyu would look at them with a light blush, keeping Shinobu out of the way

Irritation and annoyance would be written all over her wettened face but she would back off with a final “nobody likes you”

That would earn a few more water bubbles as she walked away and a mischievous giggle from them

“Don’t listen to her Giyu! You’re liked,” they would say with a smile, “I know I like you! A lot.”

“Thank you Y/n, I like you a lot too,” he would have a gentle smile on his face

ᴇɴᴅ

💧—————————————————————💧

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ

ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ <3 ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴs sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ

ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ!! ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/

ᴀsᴋs/ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs/ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!

sᴇᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ <3

ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs: 21

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ticklishfiend · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Milk (My Hero Academia)

Ship : Lee!Bakugou Ler!Kirishima (Kiribaku)

A/N : this took forever to make and it's the longest fic i've posted on this account so far, but i just had a lot of fun making it!! i hope you guys enjoy it, especially the lovely krbk anon who inspired this. they actually sent a few prompts that have inspired other krbk tickle fic ideas that i'll more than likely write for soon as well, but for now i hope you enjoy this!! much love <33

Summary : Kirishima stays for a sleepover at Bakugou’s childhood home, and after accidentally pissing off the explosive teen, seeks out some professional help from someone who may know the boy best: his father. From this, Kirishima learns a quick way from the boys childhood to get him forgiveness in no time.

Word Count : 5113 (jfc lmao)

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

“Are you seriously mad at me over this?” Kirishima asked with a confused, breathy chuckle. He watched as his best friend pouted with arms crossed over his chest like a child, glaring daggers into the redhead from his spot on the bed.

“Yes. And I do not plan on changing that. So don’t fucking try me, Spiky Hair” Bakugou turned his body fully away from Kirishima now, who was lounged rather comfortably on Bakugou’s orange beanbag seated on the ground. Kirishima rolled his eyes at Bakugou’s childishness, though still couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.

After months of practically having to beg the explosive teen for a sleepover at his childhood home, the blonde finally relented and allowed Kirishima to be a guest in his home for the weekend. Bakugou’s parents were actually pretty happy to have Bakugou back at the house, even if for such a short period of time, and were even more thrilled when they realized someone actually wanted to come with him. Bakugou was never really one for making (and keeping) close friends growing up, so this was something they were definitely excited over the prospects of.

He and Bakugou had been playing video games for the past couple of hours now, their most recent game that Bakugou was now practically fuming over being...Minecraft. Bakugou had gotten pretty attached to a wolf he unsurprisingly named “Prince Homicide,” but after bringing it to a cave while mining with Kirishima, the red-head had accidentally pushed it into a vat of lava, killing it almost instantly.

So that’s where the pair were now. Bakugou seething from his spot criss-crossed on the bed, now turned away from Kirishima with his arms crossed like a child towards the wall. Kirishima sighed, pushing himself off the beanbag and walking towards Bakugou’s door.

“Look, I’m gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?” Kirishima raised his eyebrows in hopes of a response.

“Die,” was all he got.

Kirishima bit back another chuckle, opening the door before turning his head back around to look at Bakugou, who was now fiddling with his sheets and grumbling to himself angrily. “Alright, well, I’ll be back in just a minute. Hopefully you’ll have calmed yourself down enough by then.”

“I AM CALM YOU RED-HAIRED LOSER!” Bakugou yelled at the door as Kirishima quickly walked out and shut the door to avoid the small blasts he could hear shooting from the boy’s palms. Kirishima just shook his head with a grin, making his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

When he arrived, he saw Bakugou’s father cooking dinner on the stove. It made Kirishima smile, reminding him of his own home a little, though he hadn’t been back home in a while. He did miss his moms quite a lot since moving to the dorms, and he’ll definitely have to invite Bakugou over to meet them sometime soon.

He could smell the amazing spices his father had been adding to whatever meat and noodles he had in the pot, the scent almost burning Kirishima’s nose from how spicy he could tell it was. ‘Obviously loving spiciness must run in the family,’ Kirishima thought as he opened up the fridge, alerting the father’s attention.

“Oh, Kirishima! Are you looking for anything specific?” the man asked, looking up from his steaming pot for a moment to smile at his son’s best friend. Kirishima shot a cheerful smile right back at him.

“Oh, just some water would be fine!” he nodded, grabbing a water bottle from one of the fridge drawers, before remembering the seething boy upstairs waiting for his return. He grinned. “Actually, what does Bakugou normally drink here? At the dorms he usually has protein shakes but you probably don’t have those just lying around,” Kirishima chuckled, sitting his water bottle down on the kitchen island to look at his friend’s father.

“Well, the boy doesn’t usually like to admit it but he’s quite keen on strawberry milk,” he smiled with a nod as he went back to stirring his pot, glancing over towards Kirishima with a grin.

“Shoot, really? Didn’t peg him for the strawberry milk type of guy,” Kirishima giggled, looking back in the fridge and noticing the few bottles of strawberry milk they had lying on the shelf, probably bought when they found out Bakugou was coming home for the weekend. “He’s kinda mad at me right now so I figured I’d make a peace offering.”

“Not a bad idea, kid. I’ve had to do my fair share of those over the years. Katsuki’s always been the rather...angry type,” Masaru’s eyebrows furrowed downward towards his pot, shaking his head as if thinking of all the times the boy must’ve lost his temper at his old man.

“What did you used to do when he was little? Y’know, whenever he got all...aah!” Kirishima accentuated his little growl imitating Bakugou by shaking his hands angrily in front of him, just like how Bakugou usually does when he’s about to blow someone to kingdom come. This made Masaru laugh, shaking his head and adding a few more spices to the pot.

“Well...as of now, I usually just let his mother handle everything. But when he was little, Mitsuki and I would usually just tickle the little guy ‘til he giggled all that anger out,” Masaru smiled at the fond memories, glancing over towards Kirishima who held a wide-eyed, shocked but excited expression on his face. Masaru chuckled, pointing his spoon towards the teen. “But you did not hear this from me, understand?”

“Oh, totally, I got your back 100% Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima saluted the man with a grin, making him laugh once more with a fond shake of the head. Kirishima lowered his hand, finally grabbing the strawberry milk from the fridge and sitting it on the counter with his water, promptly shutting the fridge door. “So...that didn’t make him angry or anything? He wouldn’t, like, explode you and Mrs. Bakugou to ashes or something?”

“Well I’m still here to tell the story, aren’t I?” Masaru gestured to his body with his spoon, Kirishima nodding with a chuckle. “Nah, he used to love it when we did that! Sometimes I think he’d pretend to be angry on purpose just so we’d play ‘Claw’ with him.”

“Claw? What’s Claw?” Kirishima asked, now leaning on the counter with his head propped up on his hand, listening intently as if this was the single most interesting thing he’d ever heard (because in all honesty? It very well might’ve been).

“Oh boy, Claw was his favorite. I would always hold his hands down so he couldn’t get away, while his mother would make a claw hand and tickle it into his stomach and ribs. It always had little Katsuki in stitches,” Masaru was very obviously enjoying remembering these fond memories of his son, seeming like he had almost completely forgotten about these fun little moments until Kirishima had brought them all back to light. “We always did it when he was being bratty, but not bratty enough to deserve a time-out. Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t even have to do anything bad, he’d just come out and ask for Claw when he felt playful. It was always so cute,” Masaru grinned widely, looking over towards Kirishima and promptly pointing his spoon back at the boy. “And, again you didn’t hear any of this from me, but…”

He paused, almost debating whether or not this was a good idea. He was finally swayed on his decision, however, when he saw the bright look of excitement in Kirishima’s eyes at the prospect of an actually happy Bakugou. He couldn’t help but cave.

“...but if you wanna really get him laughing, his worst spots are the spot riiiiight under his armpits, and the sides of his thighs. You get him there and he’ll be forgiving you in no time.”

Kirishima nodded with a large, toothy grin, swiping the drinks off the counter and practically bouncing in his spot as he backed his way out of the kitchen. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bakugou. It was truly an honor to know you, but I’ve got a death sentence waiting for me upstairs.”

“You get him, kiddo!” Masaru shouted towards the teen as he scurried his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs giddily.

Kirishima was practically cheesing when he made his way towards Bakugou’s childhood bedroom, and had to mentally and physically calm himself down before entering so as not to alert Bakugou of his devious scheme.

He pushed the door open, finding Bakugou to now be leaning with his back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He scowled upon hearing Kirishima’s entrance, not even bothering to look up towards the boy as he grumbled, “Damn, I was hoping you were gonna stay down there all night.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, tossing the milk onto the bed beside the blonde and hopping onto it himself. Bakugou’s eyes widened at the sudden movement beside him, eyes darting down to the drink on his bed before scowling back up at Kirishima. “How the fuck did you know I like this shit, I never drink it at school.”

Kirishima grinned, opening up his own water bottle. “Oh, just a little birdy,” he giggled, taking a sip of his water and watching as Bakugou begrudgingly took his own drink and started opening it as well.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, moron. These are just...really good,” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Kirishima, obviously still angry as he went back to staring at his phone instead of paying the redhead any mind.

“C’mon, man, I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!” Kirishima practically pleaded next to him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder which was immediately shrugged off rather aggressively. “Look, I’m sorry. Would it make you feel better if I helped you find a new wolf?”

“Are you kidding me?! I’m not playing this shitty game with you anymore, you fucking suck at it!” Bakugou had a scowl on his face that looked like what he was saying was the single most obvious thing in the whole world. Kirishima just sighed, closing up his water and throwing it down on the bed.

“I’d hate to make you, Bakugou, but you may just force my hand,” Kirishima shook his head slowly as if in disappointment, only making Bakugou’s brows cross in confusion.

“The fuck do you mean ‘make me,’ you idiot?! You can’t force me to do shit, and I’m not fucking playing this game with you,” Bakugou pushed, and to anyone else it definitely wouldn’t sounded like he meant it. But Kirishima knew Bakugou far, far too well. He could hear the competition in his voice, see the spark of want in his eyes that just said ‘please fight me on this.’ He wanted a challenge. Kirishima could see that. And boy was he gonna give it to him.

“Oh, but can’t I?” Kirishima’s voice sounded almost taunting, and once he saw that Bakugou was looking at him with competitiveness painted all over his face, he brought both of his hands up to wiggle fingers menacingly towards the boy.

Bakugou instantly knew what he meant. And if the fact he immediately closed his drink and sat it on his nightstand was no indication that he wanted this to continue, the way he backed up on his bed cautiously with wide eyes instead of immediately fighting Kirishima back most definitely was.

He was excited.

“Kirishima, don’t you fucking dare,” Bakugou pressed through a lie, his eyes never once looking away from those still wiggling fingers taunting him in the air, as if too embarrassed to look Kirishima in the eyes and completely give it away that he wanted this, he wanted the fight. He didn’t have to look for Kirishima to know, though. The redhead was still able to see Bakugou’s face even if Bakugou wouldn’t look at him, and he could see the giddiness behind his wall of caution, which only pushed him to continue.

“Then let’s play the game, Bakugou,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou gave him no response, only backing further away until finally Kirishima pounced, tackling and fighting Bakugou to the bed. This was the least Bakugou had ever put up a fight with him. Kirishima knew how Bakugou fought, he knew just how skilled and precise his moves always were, and he was giving Kirishima practically none of that. Though he did technically fight his way down, he was still inevitably completely tackled and pinned by the redhead, which almost never happened in their regular spars and play fights.

Kirishima forced Bakugou’s arms up above his head, the hardening hero-in-training using his quirk to keep the boy’s hands pinned there for good. His body hovered over Bakugou’s, a rather compromising position if they were to be walked into, but neither boy cared about that in the moment. They were too focused on the excitement and unadulterated giddiness bubbling in the pit of their bellies, and as Kirishima gazed down at Bakugou with a look of mischief in his eyes, Bakugou knew he knew. Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted this, and now the blonde was aware of that. Bakugou couldn’t quite tell if that made this better or worse.

“Fine then. We can play a different game. How about…” Kirishima paused, mocking as if in hard thought as Bakugou’s lips twitched, his eyes wide in a skittish anticipation. Kirishima finally let out a small pretend gasp, looking down at Bakugou before raising up his free hand in a claw shape. “...Claw.”

Bakugou’s eyes could not have been any wider. His cheeks were stained pink, and he squirmed under Kirishima’s pin, “No, nonono don’t you dare fucking touch me you red piece of shit, I swear to god I’ll fucking-HNG!” Bakugou choked on his words, eyes slamming shut as he felt five meticulous fingers skittered over his now bare tummy, as Kirishima must have pushed up his shirt while Bakugou was too busy threatening. Those nails were fucking torturous against his skin, his nerves lighting up and sparking with a specific feeling he hadn’t felt in what had to be years now. It was so bad, so so bad, but...god, he didn’t realize just how much he had missed this feeling until now.

“Uh oh,” Kirishima’s voice held a teasing tone that made Bakugou shake his head, still trying desperately to hold back any and all giggles that threatened to crawl from his gut. Kirishima chuckled darkly. “Looks like someone’s a little ticklish, huh?”

Bakugou only continued to shake his head from side to side, tugging at his pinned arms with no real fervor behind it. Kirishima couldn’t help the smile on his face seeing the boy like this, so flustered and obviously having a good time at something so cute. He could tell Bakugou was desperately trying to contain his giggles, which was definitely his average pride slipping through, but there was no way Kirishima was just going to let that slide.

With a smirk evil enough to send shivers down the blonde’s spine, Kirishima finally dug in, vibrating all five of his fingers into the boy’s taut abdomen. Bakugou howled, arching his back and kicking wildly behind Kirishima as loud giggles and squeals escaped his ever-excited being.

“NAHAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHAHA!” Bakugou screamed, those fingers never relenting in their claw-shaped torment on his belly. “SHIHIHIT AHAHAHA!”

“Damn, Bakugou, you’re really ticklish,” Kirishima chuckled, massaging his fingers into the boy’s muscles, causing his to spasm like he’d been shocked, screaming and kicking and cursing all the while.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHA!” Bakugou guffawed, twisting and turning his body every which way as if he was trying to escape the mirthful torment Kirishima was putting him through. Suddenly, all at once, the tickling stopped, and Bakugou let in a gasp of air he didn’t even realize he needed. He opened his eyes and glared at Kirishima hovering above him, the redhead daunting a sinister grin that made Bakugou’s tummy do summersaults.

“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima questioned menacingly, bringing his free hand up to now hold Bakugou’s wrists in both hands, quickly bringing them both down under his knees with no fight from the blonde, who seemed to be frozen in...fear? Excitement? Either way, his eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly from the attack and small titters still threatening to escape. But Bakugou was never one to back away from a challenge, no matter his condition. He couldn’t help the small twitch at the corners of his lips as he looked up to Kirishima in competition.

“I said: Fuck. You,” Bakugou spat out, and Kirishima could feel his body tense under him after he spoke the fierce words, almost like he was bracing himself for the inevitable. Kirishima shook his head with a grin, raising both his hands up in the air to once again wiggle tauntingly towards his victim.

“Oh, you are so gonna regret that,” Kirishima chuckled, lowering his hands down slowly towards the boy’s quivering belly. His stomach sucked in as if trying to evade the wiggly fingers, Bakugou’s eyes large and never looking away from those claws hovering over his sensitive torso.

Finally, his fingers touched down, skittering over the boy’s lower tummy and making his breath hitch, pursing his lips tightly and slamming his eyes shut at the teasing sensations. Kirishima’s fingers wandered and scribbled all over the boy’s torso, and for a few seconds Bakugou was able to keep his reactions at bay. That is, until Kirishima skittered on a spot right at the base of Bakugou’s ribs, causing the boy to jolt with a small yelp. Kirishima couldn’t contain his chuckle at the reaction.

“Ohoho, there it is,” Kirishima drawled, pinching at the spot that made Bakugou squirm. Bakugou growled, almost like he was trying to keep any cute little giggles to himself, but those incessant pinches just wouldn’t let up, and in seconds time he was a giggling mess under Kirishima’s touch.

“Nohoho! Fuhuhuck shihihit!- AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!” Bakugou practically screamed when he felt Kirishima vibrate his index and middle finger into that spot at his lower ribs right where it meets his back. He arched his spine up, kicking fruitlessly behind Kirishima’s body and cackling like a child all the while. “YOHOHOU BAHAHASTARD! YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKING SHIHIHIT!”

“Well that’s really no way to talk to your best friend, now is it?” Kirishima tsked, clawing at Bakugou’s ribs and eliciting more screeches and cackles from the sensitive teen. “You’re so much more ticklish than I thought you’d be, I am loving this.”

“STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAHAT!” Bakugou shook his head back and forth, clenching his fists hard under Kirishima’s knees as if trying to keep himself from exploding the both of them both to ashes.

“What? That you’re ticklish?” Kirishima tilted his head with a smirk, pinching up and down the boy’s ribs rapidly, making his laughs soar up in pitch. “Cause, I mean, you are. You’re like, super duper ticklish! But it’s fine cause it’s totally cute,” Kirishima said the last bit without really meaning to, blushing slightly at his blunt statement, but deciding against ending the ticklish torment over it.

“NAHAHAHA! I’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Bakugou denied through his cackles, continuing to shake his head in playful anguish. “FUHUHUCK OHOHOHFF!”

“Hmm...I don’t think I will. In fact, there’s a few more tickle spots I wanna try out, so you’re just gonna have to keep a-giggling for me, Bakubro,” Kirishima chuckled, taking his hands off the boy for a moment to give him a breather. Small breathy giggles and titters continued to spill from Bakugou’s lips during his rest, his head leaning back against the pillow in almost exhaustion. Kirishima leaned forward, placing both of his hands beside the boy’s head, leaving his face to hover over the boy’s own blushed one. Bakugou’s eyes widened a bit at the invasion of personal space, but never made an effort to push him off. Kirishima tilted his head like a curious puppy, “You’re okay, right? You don’t like, totally hate this? Cause I can stop if you really want me to.”

Bakugou’s cheeks were splattered pink, his eyes averting their gaze from the boy on top of him. He squirmed a tad under Kirishima’s straddle, shoulders hunching up slightly in embarrassment. “I mean...it’s not...the worst thing in the world…” Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder, eyes still refusing to meet the red-head’s own.

Kirishima grinned down at Bakugou, using one hand to gently cup Bakugou’s chin and turn his head to face his own. “I knew you didn’t hate it. I just wanted you to say it out loud,” he giggled at the blonde’s flustered and shocked expression, before quickly shooting his hands down to squeeze at Bakugou’s ribs with extreme ticklish precision. Bakugou shouted a cackle at the sudden change, his head shaking from side to side and eyes scrunching closed once more.

“OHOHO YOHOHU MOTHERFUHUHUCKER!” Bakugou guffawed, clawing at the sheets under Kirishima’s knees. Kirishima just giggled, working both of his middle fingers in between the tight spot where Bakugou’s arms were clamped against his ribs, digging into the spot just below his underarms that Masaru had told him about.

Bakugou shrieked, kicking harder than before as wave after wave of loud, unfiltered squeals and cackles left his chest.

“SHIHIHIHIT! FUHUHUCK OH MY GAHAHAD! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THAHAHAT SPOHOHOT YOU FUHUHUCK!” He screamed through his laughter, opening an eye to glare at Kirishima through his mirthful tears. Kirishima sported the biggest, shark-toothed grin he could probably muster, and it sent fluttering butterflies throughout the inside of Bakugou’s entire torso.

“Aww, is this spot bad, buddy? This spot tickle?~” Kirishima cooed, his fingers never relenting as they wiggled and dug into that one torutrous little spot that had Bakugou howling.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHU! YEHEHES! IT T-AHAHA! IT FUHUHUCKING TI-HEHEHE!” Bakugou couldn’t even get the flustering word out through all of his cackles and squeals, which amused Kirishima to no end.

“God how are you so adorable like this,” Kirishima sighed, finally bringing his fingers back down to teasingly scribble and wiggle all over Bakugou’s bare tummy. Bakugou dissolved into a puddle of high-pitched, breathy giggles, that had Kirishima fawning over him in seconds. “You’re so giggly, and I didn’t even know you could giggle before this!”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Bakugou practically whined through his giggles, his cheeks so pink and warm Kirishima could just melt in the cuteness of his flustered face.

“Oooh, I wonder if your belly button is ticklish too,” Kirishima eyed the little navel that bounced through Bakugou’s laughter, one of his fingers travelling over to circle around the button teasingly.

“NO! Nohoho, dohohon’t! Plehehease!” Bakugou pleaded, though Kirishima knew it was all just a front.

“Wow, I’ve got THE Katsuki Bakugou begging right now? Who knew I’d ever see the day!” Kirishima chuckled, worming a teasing nail into the navel and causing Bakugou to shriek and jerk underneath him. “Aww, it’s like a little giggle button!”

“Dohohon’t sahahay that stuhupid shihit!” Bakugou tittered, goosebumps forming all over his tummy from the feather-light way Kirishima scribbled over the skin.

“Alright, oneeee more place I wanna try, then we get back to Minecraft. Deal?” Kirishima moved his fingers to scribble slowly up and down the boy’s sides to let him respond, delighted at the way the movement made him squirm.

“Fihihine, whatehehever,” Bakugou braced himself for the final attack, gasping when he felt Kirishima’s hands leave his sides and rest on the top of his thighs. “Shit, shihit, shit, wahahait-!”

“Oh, this is a good spot, isn’t it?~” Kirishima teased, squeezing the muscle once to see Bakugou jerk and shriek under him. “Yup. Looks like a good one to me.”

“Ohoho plehehease, I cahahan’t, it’s so bahahad-” Bakugou whined, squirming and giggling despite Kirishima’s tickling on his thighs to even start yet.

“You’re a super ticklish guy, Bakugou, but you’re also super tough and manly. I know you can take it!” Kirishima hyped him up with a smile, just making Bakugou groan and roll his eyes with a snicker. “C’mon! Tell me you can take it!”

Bakugou huffed, gazing over at Kirishima’s face that plastered that stupid goofy grin of his. God why does he have to be so cute, Bakugou thought as he sighed with another eye roll.

“Fine, whatever, I can take it, just...fuckin get it over with already, you’re killing me heRE-HRGN! FFFAHAHAHAHA OH SHIHIHIT!” Bakugou keened, cackling and thrashing himself from side to side as both of Kirishima’s hands massaged into his upper thighs. The sensation was torturous, beyond torturous, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were pulsing under those terrible wiggling fingers, but if he could choose it, he’d feel like this forever if it were by the hands of that stupid fucking redhead.

“Damn, this must tickle bad , huh? You’re losing your mind!” Kirishima giggled, squeezing at those sensitive muscles like his life depended on it.

“FUHUHUCK! YEHEHES IT’S SO BAHAHAD! KIRIHIMAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded and begged, tiny droplets of mirth finally pooling at the corners of his eyes despite his best wishes. Kirishima could tell the blonde was finally reaching his limits, and slowed his fingers down until he was just resting his hands on top of the boy’s thighs comfortingly, rubbing up and down the sides to soothe the still giggling boy.

Kirishima smiled down at Bakugou who was still coming down from his giggle high, titters that could light up a whole room spilling from his lips and making Kirishima’s heart swell. “You alive, man?”

Bakugou coughed out his last giggle, still breathing heavy before giving Kirishima a lazy nod. Kirishima giggled, gently climbing off the boy and laying down beside him on the bed. Bakugou brought his hands up to rub at his still flushed face, and Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. The red-head was grinning ear-to-ear, and he could tell that under the palms of those calloused hands covering Bakugou’s face, the blonde was too.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Bakugou brought his hands down, turning his head to face Kirishima with a small smile still visible, only on the corners of his lips. “You almost killed me, you bastard.”

“Sorry, you were...you were just really cute like that. I’ve never seen you giggle before,” Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, eyeing Bakugou’s nearly forgotten drink still sitting on the nightstand. He pointed over to it, Bakugou’s following the direction of his finger. “You should probably get a drink, you were laughing pretty hard there.”

Bakugou huffed, his cheeks flushing only slightly at the comment, but he still rolled over to grab the drink and turn back around to face the redhead. “Shut up, I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know...too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Kirishima snickered, Bakugou punching his shoulder playfully while taking a sip of his milk. Kirishima rubbed the spot Bakugou punched with a grin. “I’m being serious, though. You really did look cute like that.”

Bakugou’s eyes refused to meet Kirishima’s. His hands cupped tightly around the bottle in his lap, thumbs fiddling with the plastic wrapper encasing it. Kirishima could see how flustered he looked despite their eyes not meeting and he almost felt a little guilty. But Bakugou finally glanced up towards Kirishima, and for the first time ever, the blonde looked...shy. “Do you really think that or are you trying to fuck with me right now? Cause it’s not very nice to fucking flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened a little at his bluntness to call it what it was; flirting. “Well, y-yeah. Yeah I meant it. For real,” Kirishima said, but he could tell Bakugou wasn’t sure if he meant it. Kirishima furrowed his brows, cupping Bakugou’s chin gently like he had while attacking the boy just minutes ago, turning his head so their eyes would meet. He stared intently at him, making sure his expression was as genuine as a person could be. “I’m serious, Bakugou. I...I think you’re really attractive,” Kirishima saw how Bakugou’s eyes moved, how he felt frozen under his touch but still somehow looked like he wanted to squirm. “You’re cute and super manly, which I didn’t even know could be a real combination until I met you. You’re...you’re my favorite person, Bakugou.”

They sat like that for a moment. Kirishima brought his hand back down to rest in his own lap, but their eyes never left each other. That was, until, Bakugou’s eyes drifted downward towards Kirishima’s lips. Kirishima’s heart faltered for a minute at the gaze, feeling hair standing up at the back of his neck. Bakugou’s eyes darted back up to Kirishima, a tilt forward in his head that asked Kirishima ‘is this okay?’ Kirishima just nodded with half-lidded eyes, before Bakugou slowly leaned forward, his own eyes closing as their faces finally met in the middle when Kirishima pushed his own head forward.

Their lips brushed shyly against one another, as if cautious and unsure if this was an okay thing to do, before Kirishima pushed into it, forcing their lips together. Bakugou brought a hand up to cup at Kirishima’s cheek, Kirishima doing the same to Bakugou. Bakugou felt like he was going to melt, or explode, or disintegrate or...or just keep kissing Kirishima until he couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart, breathless and hazy. Kirishima opened his eyes first, and when Bakugou opened his and looked at Kirishima with those shy little eyes he didn’t have before, Kirishima couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. His laugh was always too contagious, damnit, and before he knew it Bakugou was giggling along with him and he didn’t even know why.

When he finally caught his breath, Kirishima slumped back against the pillows of Bakugou’s bed, Bakugou following him to lay there and stare questioningly. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...you tasted like strawberry milk.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, before chuckling, shoving at Kirishima playfully as they both snickered. “You’re a fucking dork.”

“Hm, maybe,” Kirishima giggled as he brought his face back closer towards Bakugou’s, meeting their lips once again in a soft kiss that lasted forever.

Kirishima would definitely have to thank Mr. Bakugou later for that helpful information about his son, because now their night tasted like strawberry milk and giggles, and Kirishima didn’t want anything else in the entire world than just that.

. . .

A/N : hope you guys enjoyed that, sorry its so fucking long LMAOO i got very carried away. it took me a while to write and ive got a fucking headache so imma go lay down now, MUCH LOVE!! <33

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matcha-narancia · 3 years

Note

Romantic headcanons with shy and quiet but kind and patient s/o for Jonathan, Speedwagon, Joseph, Caesar, and Jotaro please?

A/N: Thank you for the request anon, I’ll be sectioning each request you sent up by part since they all have the same prompt! Warning(s): Some spoilers for parts 1-3 (Obviously)!

Jonathan, Speedwagon, Joseph, Caesar, and Jotaro with a Shy and Kind S/O!

Jonathan Joestar

- Jonathan is such a gentleman as we all know, so having somebody who is equally shy yet kind means you’re the perfect fit for him!

- You two take strolls together, go and have picnics, and indulge in all the luxuries of life together. And of course, you care for each other as lovers do.

- He loves you for you, treating you as his equal. He’s protective at times, but only because he would hate to have you get mixed up in his fighting with Dio!

- He appreciates that you’re always patient with him. Life often got in the way of you two, but knowing you would stay by his side and support him even still fueled him to keep going and doing his best!

- Absolutely there for you if you ever need someone to help you speak up for yourself or speak your mind. He knows that it can be hard at times, and wants to make sure you can express yourself without needing to worry.

- All in all, very very loving and compassionate, you two are such a great match!

Robert E. O. Speedwagon

- He didn’t have the best past, and you know this of course. It means the world to him that you treat him with kindness and are patient with him learning the ups and downs of living a new life away from Ogre Street.

- You’re the person he finds himself the most comfortable to be around, knowing that you won’t shun him for his less than desirable history, or anything of that sort. Your kindness touched him similarly to Jonathan, but in a romantic way!

- Definitely tries his best with taking you out on traditional dates and such, but something usually doesn’t go as planned. Either way, you two always have fun, and he always enjoys seeing you happy!

- I’d like to believe Speedwagon too has some trouble speaking, though when his voice is needed most, he’s there speaking his mind. He never pushes you to be more vocal, because he respects you. He does let you know that he’s by your side whenever you need him, though.

- He appreciates your patience more than anything. Like Jonathan, he became a busy man. His hands were very often tied with the Speedwagon Foundation, and thus he could never spend as much time with you as he would’ve liked. But you stuck with him through it all. He loves you for that.

- You were just the person for him, and you two get along so well!

Joseph Joestar

- You two are polar opposites, and yet, you have such a strong bond! Joseph definitely needs and needed a more levelheaded and soft-spoken individual to ground him, and you just so happened to pop up in his life!

- He tries to be romantic and thinks he’s all suave. Please tell him he is, he may look all confident and headstrong but deep down he’s always trying his best around you.

- Joseph… is not great with traditional or typical dates. But that’s one of the many reasons he’s so charming. He’s bold and unpredictable, and it’s balanced by your own kindness and patience!

- He also tries his best to keep you out of danger. He knows you’re a strong person even though you’re quiet, but he had so little people in his life growing up. He really wants to keep you safe and out of his fights.

- I see him as the type to tease about your shyness, but he never does it in a mean way. It’s definitely more playful, and though he wants you to speak up a bit more for yourself, he’d never push you to.

- You two go together perfectly! And Lisa Lisa is thrilled to know her son has somebody who can be by his side and keep him logical!

Caesar A. Zeppeli

- Caesar finds your qualities to be so adorable... and it’s easy to see how head over heels in love he is!

- Unlike Joseph, this man is the king of all those traditions. Sure, he’s had his relationships, and thus all his skills come from them, but when you two met he dedicated himself to you and you alone! He’ll take you in the most romantic and thoughtful dates, and you appreciate all his efforts!

- Like the others, your patience and kindness together mean the world to him. He blamed himself for his father’s death because he lacked any patience, and so knowing you’ll be there by his side through everything makes his heart melt. He values your relationship over practically everything.

- I do see Caesar as the kind of guy who would speak for you if you ever had trouble. He means no harm in it, he just wants you to get your thoughts and feelings out! However, if you don’t want to speak or don’t want him to speak for you, he will agree of course!

- Might also tease you about your shyness, but not to the lengths of Joseph. He finds it adorable more than anything, so commenting about it all the time would be a bit overkill in his opinion.

- In the end, you two are a match made in heaven! He’s always so happy to be with you!

Jotaro Kujo

- We all know Jotaro’s rather quiet himself, so it’s nice to have somebody who isn’t bugging him every 5 seconds (Polnareff). - It probably took a while for you two to get together, mostly because Jotaro was worried of ruining your friendship. But when you did, he was so thankful you accepted his feelings!

- Jotaro’s a prime example of actions over words. He looks menacing and tough and all that on the outside, and so oftentimes what he says can be taken in the wrong sense, so he settled for gestures that can speak for him.

- Again like everyone else, he really appreciates your kindness and patience. You knew the crusade to Egypt would be a long while, and so whether or not you waited or went along with you, you stayed there the entire time,

- Not the greatest at dates. He’d rather just stay inside with you and watch some sort of ocean documentary, though if you ever want to go out, he’ll lovingly begrudgingly agree.

- You’re the type of person Jotaro really needed in his life, and even though he’s not the best with words, you know he loves you so!

#jojo’s bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jjba x reader #jjba phantom blood #jjba part 1 #jjba battle tendency #jjba part 2 #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba part 3 #jonathan joestar #jonathan joestar x reader #robert e o speedwagon #speedwagon x reader #joseph joestar #joseph joestar x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #matcha requests

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commonwealth-ladies-react · 3 years

Note

How about when romanced ladies knew when they had feelings for sole?

[Thank you for the request! I’m not sure if you’re the same anon who’s also sent in the last few, but I’m very appreciative. I’m not very good at coming up with my own prompts, so these have been great!

Also I’m sorry about the delay. Ironically, Curie’s response stumped me for a few days. She’s my favorite character, you’d think I’d be able to figure hers out no problem but apparently not.]

Cait: “I’m proud of you.”

She’d never heard those words before; at least, not meant in a genuine fashion. Sure, Tommy told her he was “proud”, but what he really meant was how happy he was to be raking in caps thanks to her fighting.

But hearing that from Nora? That was…different. Nora didn’t expect anything from her. Didn’t take anything from her. Nora had absolutely no reason to be proud of her, and yet… Nora was. Nora was…proud.

Cait felt something stir in her at those words. Not in the way she was used to, like anger or lust. No, this was something else entirely. Her mind went blank and she could only stare at Nora. She began to realize just how much the woman meant to her, how much she came to depend on her. And not just in a fight.

Maybe she trusted too easily. But Nora was just so damn easy to trust. Cait found herself not minding that, not minding that she was, most likely, opening herself up to disappointment again. She trusted Nora not to do that to her. She…cared. For Nora. And she wondered vaguely if Nora would ever feel the same.

Curie: Nora winced, almost jerked back her arm. “That hurts,” she hissed.

“Well, per’aps if you would pay more attention to your surroundings and less to only what is in front of you, you would ‘ave seen zhat second Raider.” Curie poured more antiseptic on the cloth and continued dabbing at the wound near Nora’s shoulder. “If you aren’t careful, zhen you’re bound to get a more permanent injury! I cannot reattach a lost limb, or, even worse, bring you back to life!”

Nora gave a soft whimper but was otherwise silent.

As Curie worked at tending to her injury, her mind whirled. Nora never seemed to give much thought to her own well-being, and as such injuries like this weren’t uncommon. But Curie would never get used to it, she knew. She worried so much over the woman. She was scared—honestly, genuinely—that someday Nora would be killed.

Curie hesitated, her hands shaking. If Nora ever died, ever…left her, then… The very thought caused her heart to ache. She didn’t want to be without the Vaultdweller. She couldn’t. Their lives were entwined now, and wherever Nora went, Curie would follow.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, the word ‘love’ was tossed around.

Piper: “Then I ripped the minigun right off the Vertibird!”

“Whoa!” Nat bounced where she sat on the couch.

Piper grinned, watching Nora very dramatically act out one of her stories. It was a calm night, a peaceful one, and they had all just finished dinner. She sat back on the sofa and crossed her legs. “Go on, tell her about how you nearly passed out when you a Deathclaw for the first time.”

Nora huffed. “I did not nearly pass out!” She crossed her arms, pouting.

“What did you do then?” Nat tilted her head.

“I killed it, of course.” Nora rubbed the back of her neck. “Then I passed out…”

Piper continued to watch her sister and her companion chat, getting more and more animated. She was grateful that they got along so well; she wasn’t sure what’d she do if they didn’t. Even better, Nat liked her. A few times she came home alone, and the first thing her sister asked was, “Where’s Nora?”

She looked over to see the admiration in Nat’s eyes as she watched Nora launch into another story. Piper’s smile softened. She always told herself she wouldn’t date someone unless Nat liked them. And Nat really seemed to like this one.

Which was fine by her, because Piper liked her too.

#companions react #cait #curie #fallout 4 #fallout 4 cait #fallout 4 curie #fallout 4 piper #piper wright #i am so sorry this took so long #i had started it like friday #and just got so damn stuck on it

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gleamglowsgraveyard · 4 years

Note

How about Sirius finding out the reader has a crush on him...and gives her her first kiss? 😘

cigarettes and firewhisky

pairing: sirius/reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: amortentia is no fun to make when you’re partnered up with the person you know it’s going to end up smelling like.

content: fluff, me being bad at writing slughorn, very brief mention of sirius’s family issues, confessions in an empty classroom, kissing but nothing spicy (edit: rereading this i realized i made the reader pretty gender neutral! no pronouns or anything like that :)

you know i had to pull the amortentia trope. this was a cute request, thank you so much! also thank you to my anons who sent in what they thought sirius smelled like, you guys were a lot of help! (except the person who suggested that sirius smells like wet dog. you know who you are.)

This was the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. Surely some higher power was laughing at you from above, taunting you and your dreadful luck.

Your heart was beating a million miles a minute. How on earth did you end up being paired up with Sirius Black of all people?! And - even worse - making the worst potion ever concocted?!

If you weren’t in public you’re sure you’d be letting out a crazed laugh out of pure mania.

So far you’ve been able to dodge all of his attempts at conversation, quickly sending him off to find another ingredient as soon as he got too chatty. You’d hardly made any eye contact at all, and any time he handed you something you were careful not to have his fingertips even slightly graze your own.

In truth, you’ve had an enormous crush on Sirius Black since third year, and it had only gotten worse as the years went by. This meant that by now, you had become a bit of an expert at avoiding him at all costs.

But now it was all ruined. Years of hard work spiraling down the drain all because of fucking Amortentia.

Why couldn’t it have been a simple calming draught? Or a shrinking solution? Hell, you would’ve even preferred to make Slughorn his lunch!

And it’s not as if you can sabotage the potion, either! That would mean Sirius’s grade suffering too. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

There was no way out but to lie about what the potion smells of if he asks. Simple! That way no one finds out - more importantly, that way Sirius doesn’t find out - about your silly little crush. Foolproof. Genius. Inspired-!

“Do you like me?”

“What?!” You jolt as panic overtakes you, snapping your head up to meet Sirius’s eyes.

“Do you like me?” he repeats, smiling slightly. “I can’t help but feel like you hate me, seeing as you haven’t looked at me or talked to me at all.”

Internally, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad you had misinterpreted the question.

“No! I-” Your voice is much too high, you stop to clear your throat. “I do! I do like you, I um... Sorry! I promise I don’t hate you, I guess I’m just... shy.” You finish your blabbering by looking away, pretending to inspect the fire below your cauldron.

When you raise your gaze again Sirius is still looking at you - observing you as if you’re an interesting puzzle that he can’t quite figure out.

“Um!” you quickly turn your attention to the potion, hoping he does the same. “Nearly done, right? Here.” You hold out the wooden spoon for him to take. “Five more clockwise stirs.”

He looks at the spoon but then folds his hands behind his back. “You do it,” he offers instead.

You purse your lips but nod anyway, bringing the wood up to the cauldron’s opening. The pearlescent liquid shifts under the spoon as it touches the surface, and once it’s fully submerged you take a deep breath and start stirring.

One... Two... Three... Four...

As soon as you finish the fifth stir your nose is assaulted by a suffocating aroma of cigarettes and firewhisky. You quickly step back, coughing and tossing the spoon on the table, but the scent follows you.

That doesn’t smell very appealing! Had you done something wrong? You could have sworn you’d followed the recipe exactly!

But then suddenly the scent changes, rapidly becoming much more welcoming. Cigarettes and firewhisky quickly turns into the undertone to something different... Cinnamon shampoo? But also... cologne, and... You could also catch the faint whiff of a brand new leather jacket.

“I think...” you start, eyes trained on the potion that now has delicate tendrils of steam coming off its surface. “I think we did it.” You laugh a bit in astonishment, proud of the fact that you’d managed to make such an advanced potion.

When you turn your head Sirius is looking at you again, in that infuriating way with his gorgeous eyes and stupid grin. You desperately want to look away but just can’t bring yourself to do so.

“How can you tell?” he asks quietly, and you suddenly feel everything else in the room slip away until it’s just him in front of you.

“I... It-”

“What’s it smell like?”

His low voice puts you in such a trance that for a moment you think you’re about to tell him the truth, but you quickly remember what you’d decided on earlier. Lie.

“Ban-” Bananas? No! “Bal-” Balloons? What would that even mean?! “Bu... bblegum. Bubblegum.” You finally land on, and then give a minuscule wince.

Bubblegum?! Although, you suppose it’s better than balloons...

“Bubblegum?” Sirius repeats, brows furrowed.

“Yep! And is that...? Oh! Firewood!” you continue, pulling lies out of thin air. Sirius’s furrowed brows fade away, and an amused smile starts to form on his features instead.

“And, um... And sun cream! Huh, weird.”

“Bubblegum, firewood, and sun cream?” Sirius lists, as if needing clarification from you.

“Well, I-”

“And look what we have here!” Professor Slughorn’s booming voice is suddenly feet away from the two of you, standing right beside your cauldron. “I do believe we have our first finished brew of Amortentia! Although I can’t say I’m surprised, Mr. Black,” Slughorn beams, giving Sirius a knowing look.

Sirius just shuffles awkwardly.

If Slughorn notices Sirius’s discomfort, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he continues, “You know, your father was an exceptional potion maker. Very talented indeed, and you and your brother seem to be following in his footsteps! Although I must say, young Regulus has been a bit unfocused lately, he-”

“Uh, professor?” you speak up when Sirius flinches at his brother’s name.

Slughorn blinks and then looks at you as if he’s just noticed you were there. “Oh- Yes?”

“So... The potion? Did we do it right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course! Full marks!” He waves you off, as if you were being silly for even asking. “And ten points for each of you!” he adds for good measure before strolling off, most likely to go torment some other student with a famous surname.

After that, Sirius doesn’t much seem to be up for talking anymore. He focuses all his attention on cleaning up your station, closing up jars of rose petals and pearl dust. You follow his lead, albeit a bit sluggishly.

A few minutes ago you would’ve been okay with Sirius’s silence - happy, even, if it meant you didn’t have to deal with your little crush. But now you would give anything to have him cheerful and smiling again - even if he looked at you with those annoyingly pretty eyes.

Once class is over you’re quick to duck out of the room, desperately wanting to leave Slughorn and Amortentia and the smell of cigarettes and firewhisky behind you.

It’s all over now, everything went according to plan and you can finally go back to doing what you do best. Secretly pining after Sirius Black from a distance.

It’s safe. It’s what you’re good at.

You’re just about ready to forget about this day entirely when you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

...Maybe you were hearing things.

You speed up your steps but then he calls your name again and you’re forced to slow down, waiting for him to catch up. When he does he gives you another winning smile and your heart does a flip.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, and you listen intently. “Sorry about uh... Just... Thanks.”

You’re a bit taken aback. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a ‘thank you’.

“I... For what?” you ask, genuinely perplexed, but trying not to sound rude.

“Getting Slughorn to leave,” he clarifies with a grin. “He’s always been the same... I’ve been dealing with that for seven years now.”

There’s laughter in his voice but you can tell it’s a bit frayed at the edges. He’s clearly trying - and failing - to play it off as no big deal.

“Sorry,” you offer lamely. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

It really doesn’t.

You don’t know much about Sirius’s family, but you know enough to understand that he probably doesn’t like to be constantly reminded of them. Sharing their last name and seeing his brother in the halls was probably more than enough.

“It’s fine. And, I didn’t just want to thank you,” he says quickly, realizing that the conversation had gotten gloomy.

“Oh?” you voice with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I wanted to ask what it smelled like. The Amortentia.”

There goes your heart again. A million miles a minute.

“What do you mean?” you ask, laughing a bit. “I told you. Bubblegum and um...”

Shoot! What were the other two?!

“Firewood and sun cream?” Sirius prompts, and you nod frantically.

“Yep! That was it!” you’re quick to blurt out. Unconsciously, you pick up your pace, now traveling at a slight speed walk.

Sirius keeps up easily. “But you’re lying,” he accuses, pointing a finger at you, and you swear you start to sweat. “You started coughing when you finished stirring. What did you smell then?”

“I-! Well-! The bubblegum was very pungent, and I-”

“And it looked to me like you were just naming anything that came to your head. Were you about to say balloons at one point?”

“You know, I don’t appreciate being interrogated like this, and quite frankly I- woah!”

You suddenly find that you’re being pulled somewhere by the elbow, and only when you hear a door close behind you do you realize that Sirius has dragged you into an empty classroom. You don’t even have time to take in your surroundings, because Sirius is asking you again:

“So what did you smell?”

You consider lying again, but he’s staring at you with his big, pretty eyes, just waiting for you to tell the truth and all of a sudden you really, really want to.

You thought - you really thought - that you would be content to just go back to crushing on him from a safe distance, but then the Amortentia had happened and he had looked at you different. He was looking at you differently even now - eyes glittering, listening attentively for your answer. And suddenly pining from a distance doesn’t seem so appealing.

You groan in frustration, bringing both of your hands up to cover your face. You just can’t believe what this boy is doing to you.

“It’s so stupid,” you admit, feeling your cheeks head up beneath your palms.

“It’s not,” he assures you, gently wrapping both his hands around each of your wrists, silently asking you to stop covering your face.

You shake you head. “It is, and if you’re asking then you already know.”

“So humor me.”

You abruptly drop your hands to look up at him and, woah - had he always been that close? He’d definitely gotten a bit closer since you’d closed your eyes.

You let out a shaky breath. “Cigarette smoke... Firewhisky...” you trail off. You mean to keep going, but decide to wait for Sirius’s initial reaction first.

Sirius blinks. “Gross,” he says after a beat, and it startles a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, a bit. I thought we messed it up, but then... Um, it changed.”

You search his features for any signs of discomfort, but find none. In fact, Sirius seems to be basking in every word you tell him.

So you keep going, very quietly, “Cologne and...” Without thinking you bring a hand up to rest delicately on his shoulder. “Leather and... Cinnamon...”

You hand moves of it’s own volition, resting on the junction of Sirius’s shoulder and neck and you stare dazedly at it for a moment. You blink and then realize what you’re doing.

You pull your hand away as if you’ve been burned. “Sorry, I-”

But then Sirius is leaning forward fast and - Merlin, was he about to kiss you?!

You panic for a moment, knowing you have to think quick. Your hand darts up again, this time landing on his collarbone, putting your palm flat up against him and pressing firmly, willing him to stop.

He gets the message and quickly pulls back. “I’m sorry-”

“No!” you blurt out so fast that it sounds more like a squeak. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t... I mean I want to, I do I just...” You screw your eyes shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Fuck,” Sirius lets out a laugh.

Your heart sinks as you open your eyes. Was he laughing at you?

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” he clarifies quick, as if reading your mind. “For a second I thought the Amortentia was a big coincidence and you didn’t like me at all.” he smiles, and you realize his laugh was a laugh of relief.

“No! I-!” You groan again and lean against the closed door. Was it confession day or something?! “No, I’ve... I’ve liked you since third year.”

“What about first and second?” he fires back quick, grinning stupidly.

You don’t miss a beat. “I was scared of you, then. You were too loud.”

He barks out a laugh and you suddenly feel the urge to look away, feeling as if you’re intruding. And then you remember you’re not. It’s just you and Sirius here. So many times you’d seen that laugh from a distance, across a crowded Great Hall but now it was just for you.

Sirius speaks up once his laughter dies down. “Look, you don’t have to-”

“No, I want to-”

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable-”

“You haven’t! I just-”

“We can just go to class-”

“Sirius!” you say sharply, and he looks at you with wide eyes. “Kiss me. Please,” you say with a laugh, wanting him to shut up already.

He grins and then wastes no time in leaning forward, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You smell it again - cinnamon shampoo, cologne, new leather, and - very faintly - cigarettes and firewhisky.

You melt into the kiss, bringing you hands up to rest at the nape of his neck, idly playing with the strands of hair you find. It’s awkward at first, but you try your best to relax into it, following Sirius’s lead and just doing whatever comes naturally.

He pulls away and you slowly blink your eyes back open, willing yourself out of the trance Sirius’s lips had just put you in.

“Fast learner,” he whispers, smiling, and you laugh.

“We should get to class...” you suggest halfheartedly, not stepping away or making any move to leave.

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Probably...”

You both look at each other for a few beats, but then you each break into a smile.

And he kisses you again.

taglist <3 // @isxfisticated @l-adysansa @tomshollandz

#requests #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me

📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.

kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊

ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties

Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.

She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.

And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.

He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.

Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.

“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”

Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.

He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”

The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”

A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”

Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.

“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”

Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”

She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.

“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”

The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”

“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.

“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”

He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.

It grows from there.

It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.

Lovingly, of course.

Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time

Carlos, 16.22: ?

In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.

Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason

Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.

Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.

Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.

Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her

Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually

Carlos, 19.13: Nancy

Nancy, 19.13: carlos

Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face

Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?

Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes

Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me

Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑

(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)

(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)

Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.

“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”

TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”

TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.

“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”

That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.

“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”

“Shut up.”

In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.

They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.

Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #marjan marwani #tk strand #tarlos #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #📍 anon

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