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mercy-burning · 3 years

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She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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englishmuffinsrd · 3 years

Text

Valentines Day Special

Just Like The Books

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: ...

Synopsis: Valentines day was only a few days away and Shoto had not yet asked you to be his valentine!! Were you too romantically inclined from all those books you read or was Shoto just trying to make things extra special?

SPECIAL NOTE: This story is being read aloud by Mad July on youtube!!! The link will be posed here very soon, please give the channel all your love!

Link To Video- Here!!!

Link To Channel- Mad July

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It was less than four days until Valentine’s day and Shoto, Y/n’s boyfriend of a year and a half, had yet to request the spot as their valentine. Pure radio silence on his part. They weren’t worried though. Seriously! Y/n knew Shoto wasn’t the best with romancy stuff- it just didn’t come naturally to him which was fine! Still… everyone in 1A had a valentine. Heck even Mineta had received a love letter! Of course, everyone was painfully aware he had sent it to himself but either way- it was a bit embarrassing- what to have a significant other and them not even ask… whatever- Valentine’s day wasn’t even a big deal anyway!

Despite that- when the little envelope- wax sealed with a fingerprint- showed up in their school bag- they couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit relieved. The paper was light brown and smelled of burned wax, after struggling for a second to open it without ripping the letter- they read to themselves:

“For every day that passes- I realize how many more I want to spend with you. Is this how Mr. Darcy felt when he was with Elizabeth?”

A smile grew on their face- Having introduced Sho to Pride and Prejudice last summer, it made their heart flutter to hear him bring it up.

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ It must have been…will you accept my confession?”

- Your Secret Admirer

Not only did he remember their infatuation with the book, but he quoted the line too… he was just too cute! They folded the letter and gently put it in the box in which they kept all his letters. Only to promptly pull it out and read it a few more times.

The next day- it seemed Shoto was ignoring them. In class they would turn- only for him to look away. This wasn’t like him, usually he had no trouble staring- in fact, in the past Shoto would stare until Y/n was embarrassed, not realizing how hard it was to have him look so intently.

That night- after a whole day of hiding- it appeared that Shoto had been on their balcony. Strange as it is, there was a very obvious glow of a flashlight outside Y/n’s dorm room. Sat in the middle of the balcony’s ledge was another letter, held down by a small box. Y/n took at least a minute to look at the whole set up. It wasn’t crazy or anything- just a bit cute. The flashlight shown right through their curtain so they could see the display. Eventually they reached for the envelope. Wax sealed with a fingerprint just like it had been before.

“’Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.’ I remember when you read Hamlet to me- I remember knowing I loved you when I heard the smile in your voice when you read those words. Do you remember? When you quoted them to me while you braided my hair? Do you remember when you leaned over and said them that last day of summer? I hope you do… Because I can’t stop thinking about them.”

- Your Secret Admirer

“Yes” they thought, “Yes, yes of course I do.”

It was a little funny, Sho referring to himself as their “Secret Admirer” when everyone knew they were dating, still- they couldn’t help but find it charming.

By the time they had read the letter for the fourth time- the icy air had chilled their skin considerably. The wind whooshed past their face, but it was hard to leave their spot on the balcony knowing he had been right there. They had already stood before they remembered the box that had been used as a paperweight.

Leaning over to pick it up they ran their hand over the silk exterior. Inside, delicately placed on a velvet stand was a silver ring- a tiny sun on one side and on the other? A tiny moon. It was exactly their ring size and was so beautiful they had half the mind to keep it hidden in a box and not wear it at all. It took a particularly cold gust of wind to bring them back to reality and go inside.

At lunch the next day Y/n sat with Jirou and Kaminari. Food was the last thing on their mind. All their thoughts were occupied with was the fact that Shoto Todoroki had been wearing a ring in class today. A ring that had tiny, engraved stars all over. They couldn’t even thank him because he was gone when class ended. Y/n had even stood quickly and ran after him to try to go looking but he was nowhere to be found.

“Hey- what’s wrong?” Mina stared worriedly. Y/n was sure everyone could tell something was up. It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t been asked anymore-but that Sho seemed to be avoiding them. They couldn’t answer their friend because suddenly Kaminari jumped upright- startling the whole table. Jirou and the man in question were sharing a look. Jirou looking exasperated and shifted her eyes from the bag hung across his chair- then at Y/n and then back at Kaminari.

“Oh! Oh!!” Kaminari clapped his hands as if remembering something. He bent down and pulled out an enveloped from his bag- it had the tiniest of stems attached- little clusters of baby’s breath had been sealed to the letter. They looked up from their table with Jirou, Kaminari and Mina and watched Deku from across the lunchroom nudge Sho with a worried look. He just took a breath in and stared at his lap- a content smile on his lips.

“Just ask me Sho…” They thought. Maybe this was his way of asking. Previously- whenever Shoto wanted attention- he never asked- he would pull on their sleeve or tug on their belt loop… maybe he didn’t know how to ask. Either way- Y/n wanted to thank him for his gestures- to give him a gift too- even if it wasn’t as nice as what he gave to them.

“If you asked anything of me- I believe my heart always replies- ‘As you wish.’ You read to me all about Buttercup’s requests of Westly- I myself have a request of you if it is not too much. Would you be willing to meet with me at my dorm this evening?”

- Your secret admirer

And when they looked up- Sho was gone from his seat with Deku and Iida.

Tomorrow was Valentines- and y/n had spent so much time worrying whether Todoroki would ask them that they didn’t even have a gift for him. Needless to say- they skipped final period to go out and get something.

That night Y/n was nervous- “Pull yourself together” they told themselves- they’d dated over a year and yet it was still a bit nerve wracking to see him. They didn’t really get all that dressed up- just changed out of their uniform into something comfortable and made their way to Shotos dorm room. They had his gift in a small bag and while they knew he would love anything they gave him- it didn’t feel like enough. Simply him reflecting on the moments they had shared had warmed Y/n’s heart to no end.

Romance novels were sort of a part of their relationship- a little thing Shoto had never experienced before they had the chance to become close. And when y/n heard such a horrible truth? They made it a mission to read to him all their favorite stories.

They twisted their ring and took a deep breath- “It’s just Sho…” they told themselves before they knocked.

Instantly the door swung open- as if Shoto had waited for them to knock- “You’re here” he said softly- his hair was fluffier than normal, spread across his eyes- he had also changed out of his school uniform.

“Yeah” is all they could muster- eyes falling on his expression. He looked so good even when he didn’t mean to.

He slowly took a step forward and tugged on their waistband. Pulling them into his room. It smelled like wood and varnish inside- within the brief second in the room they spotted the books laying on his desk. Pride and Prejudice- Hamlet- and The Princess Bride were all neatly set in a pile next to his laptop- behind those were some other stories y/n had shown him- The Notebook, Anne of Green Gables and The Phantom of The Opera were set on his wall.

He grabbed their face- “Y/n” he cleared his throat-

“I’ve been meaning to ask you- and seeing as- “He pulls his finger from their pants elastic- his hand messily grasped at their sleeve before tightly grasping it and then letting it go. He looked at the clock on the wall and faltered- “seeing as- I have three and a half hours before well- you know- I think its best to ask- the thing? You know- Tomorrow is Valentines day and I was wondering if you wanted to stay- with- stay here… with me- until then. So, we could spend the day together?” Somehow his hand had gone back to their sleeve and was shyly tugging on it.

“Oh right!!” he let go. “What I meant was, would you be my Valentine?”

And the hand holding Shotos gift let go somehow and had pulled him in by his neck.

And you know, it really was just like the books. Time slowed down and it was so warm, and they didn’t want to move- so they didn’t.

They pulled away “Yes, yes that would be just perfect.” And then Shoto pulled them back in again by the shoulders and quietly murmured, “oh thank goodness.”

#my hero academia #baku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x y/n #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto x y/n #todoroki fluff #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #todoroki fanfic #shoto x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #katsuki x reader

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berrynarrybanana · 3 years

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Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you!

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here!

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas.

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty.

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door.

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten.

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin.

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground.

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl.

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.”

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.”

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry.

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella.

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again.

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head.

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted.

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies.

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it.

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.”

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug.

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough.

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug.

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here.

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard.

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep.

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched.

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame.

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes.

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue.

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips.

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears.

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut.

He was totally fucked for this girl.

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs.

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand.

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew.

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?”

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.”

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked.

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-”

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen.

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was.

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings.

He had a crush on Stella.

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her.

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them.

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them.

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing.

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said.

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?”

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked.

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.”

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly.

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.”

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips.

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella.

Stay here with me forever.

Love me.

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind.

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well.

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit.

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!”

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!”

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?”

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back.

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time.

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.”

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.”

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.”

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching.

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter.

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s.

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!”

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest.

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.”

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.”

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted.

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s.

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.”

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks.

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago.

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off.

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door.

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile.

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest.

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands.

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode.

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo.

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?”

“Gemma-”

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering.

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry.

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#not edited #as per usual #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry fic #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry styles X ofc #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry styles christmas blurb

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kyun-toast · 3 years

Text

[MONSTA X] Changkyun - Happy Without Me

word count: 3.8k warnings: alcohol, suggestions of smoking, swearing, suggestions of sex summary: I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time a/n: I’ve been listening to the All About Luv album a lot recently and Happy Without Me hit a little different the other day. I hope you don’t notice how I slacked off near the end 💜

“Yerim what are you wearing for tonight? I wanna look cute but not like ‘I’ve put effort in’ kinda cute, you know? Like I’m always this cute.”

Yerim laughed as she replied, “You’d look hot wearing a bin bag so shut up and let me know what drinks you want. It’s ‘bring your own booze’ so I was gonna run to the store for extra before we go.”

“Umm, vodka? Tequila? Maybe rum? I’m getting smashed tonight and you’re all going to carry me home, just letting you know.” Soobin winked and blew kisses at the both of you with a coy smile on her face, as some form of ‘thank you in advance’ for the troubles that you would be going through later that night. As much pain she put the both of you through, it was hard not to love her.

“Yeah, you say that as if that’s not what happens every week, you psycho.”

You smiled from the comfort of your sofa as you witnessed the two of your best friends bicker. You were never really one for parties, but you decided to let yourself go after an unfortunate night maybe five? six months ago. You thought that you could vent your frustrations into your notes app and be done with it, but your friends took pity and introduced you to another option. One where you could numb your mind with alcohol and crashing bass, and you figured that it was somewhat more enjoyable than cry-writing shitty poetry on a Friday night. Notes app therapy was now a thing of the past.

Changkyun had become such an integral part of your life that you couldn’t help yourself from unconsciously replaying memories that you had attempted to bury. A simple look at the most irrelevant objects would have him running through your mind before you could even stop yourself. Oh, we bought this mug together. You were surprised he hadn’t taken it with him when he left. It was his favourite mug to drink whiskey out of. Speaking of whiskey, you needed a drink. It had only taken days for him to make himself at home at the forefront of your thoughts but how long was it going to take to rid of him?

As much as you tried to keep those thoughts at bay, no amount of alcohol could ever stop them from crashing back over you whenever you saw that little smiley face appear at the top of your Instagram feed.

imnameim. When had he posted a story? You hadn’t seen the pink circle earlier. Would it be too early to look at it now? You couldn’t risk tapping on it only to see that it had been posted 12 seconds ago, just like you had done the other day. And the day before. And the day before that. Should you just make a burner account? No, that’s too far, we’re not going there today, bitch... Maybe tomorrow.

You hated how much power that tattoo face held over you, looking straight into your eyes - almost mockingly. Oh, did I look like a smiley face to you six months ago? Well, I’m a sad face now and that’s all you’re ever going to see.

“Y/N! Hey! You’re going to stare a hole into your phone.” Soobin clapped in your face, trying to get your attention. You looked up, softening your expression to meet Yerim’s eyes.

“Soobin was asking what you’re going to wear tonight.” Yerim said.

“I don’t know, probably that top I got yesterday?” you shrugged, unbothered by your friends’ question. You weren’t going to parties to impress anyone; you were going to drink the last of your braincells away.

“Y/N, ‘that top’ you got yesterday is a free t-shirt you got from the Domino’s pop-up stall on campus. I’m not letting you do this again.” Yerim dead panned.

“OK and...?” You met both of their concerned faces only to have them grab each of your arms.

“Come on. Up. That’s it.” You made unintelligible noises as they dragged you up off the sofa and into your closet. The thoughts about Changkyun’s story were left on the sofa as your mind was now filling with an excited buzz. “You act like you hate this, but I know you love getting trashed with us, Y/N.” Yerim laughed and you knew it too.

Changkyun lay in Jae-in’s bed, with her nestled in his chest as he looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Being careful not to wake her, he slowly squeezed his arm out from under her head to lay on his stomach to scroll through Instagram.

He had posted a story over an hour ago, half hoping that you’d see it – a cover of Dean’s Instagram. How ironic.

He shook his head at how pathetic his efforts seemed, whispering to himself, “What the hell are you doing?” He refreshed his feed for the last time to see that you had posted a video of the three of you dancing to a song in your walk-in closet. Probably drunk. Upon re-watching the video on loop for the third time, he concluded that you were most definitely drunk.

Seeing you having fun like this had him torn between being happy for you, moving on with your life and probably on to other men too. Being attractive plus the endless number of parties you went to now was just the perfect recipe. You were bound to have found someone.

And this is where the hatred washed over him. He despised it. Hated seeing you have fun without him, moving on as if he had never existed. Was it that easy for you to just forget? It seemed unfair that he was still struggling to keep you off his mind while you were out having the time of your life, letting your followers know of that fact too.

Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t happy for you at all. He was just trying to kid himself into thinking that he was. Be mature and everything. That was what both of you had agreed to be when your relationship came to an end. After days of what could probably be called a verbal equivalent of a nuclear war, the two of you had given up.

Crying, shouting, complete silence, you had done it all and there was no end in sight. On day three of radio silence, you felt as if you could do without speaking to Changkyun at all. When you brought it up, he admitted he felt the same. Exhaustion making both of you devoid of any emotion, you agreed to disagree and act like the fight had never happened. You were tired and wanted nothing more to do with it. Or each other. Thinking of yourselves as somewhat grown, you decided to be civil since you were in the same circle of friends, not wanting to burden them with any of your problems.

With so many things left unsaid and ties still loose, there was no way that you could just cut clean. But you never so much as bumped into each other since.

You hadn’t blocked each other though, as you both felt that it was some sign of weakness. Yeah, I’m tough enough to keep them on my socials. They don’t bother me. Not at all. But in the small hours of the morning, you were on each other’s profiles, hoping for a glimpse of what they were up to. Wondering if he had finished that song he was working on. If you were eating well. If he was really seeing Jae-in seriously. If you were well and truly happy.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Y/N’s doing just fine for themselves, everyone can see that.

“Did you finish that essay?”

No, that’s too random.

“I think about you all the time.”

Shut up Changkyun.

Though you had both agreed to be ‘friends’, there was no easy way in going about messaging one another when you had fought so explosively. Changkyun also felt that he had missed the right timeframe for him to salvage whatever there was left of the relationship. Whether it be platonic or romantic. No matter how much he wanted to message you, his pride falsely masked as maturity stopped him from ever doing more than wish for you to call him and say that everything was going to be ok. That you can start over.

“Do you wanna go to Minhyuk’s house party?” Jae-in’s voice was heavy with sleep, squinting her eyes at the bright screen of her phone. Changkyun was startled from his thoughts, not realising that she had been woken up by a text.

“House party…?” Changkyun was dubious.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to, it’s just that we don’t ever do anything besides fuck, and I thought we could do with a change of scenery.”

“I mean yeah it’s just that we’ve never hung out with other people before. Like together.”

He had met Jae-in at a bar a few months ago. Holed up in his studio after the breakup, Changkyun got to channelling his anger into working on his music until his course mate Minhyuk persuaded him out for drinks. Minhyuk had flirted with the girls from the table over to get them to join in on the pity party. Jae-in had seated herself next to Changkyun and a few drinks later, they had quickly bonded over their childhood obsession with Death Note to which she followed up with an invitation to watch it at her place. Who was Kyun to reject? With all this pent-up energy to spare, music wasn’t quite cutting it.

“I doubt anyone will care that we arrived together.” Jae-in shrugged. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, I invited Jae-in and I think Changkyun might come with her too.” Minhyuk stated nonchalantly over the phone. You choked on your wine and thanked God that the music in your room was loud enough to cover the unnatural sound you had just made. “Y/N, is that ok? I should have asked you befo-”

“No, I don’t care.” You replied a little too quickly, “It’s been months and we broke up on good terms anyway, remember?”

“MINNIE! I MISS YOU!” Soobin drunkenly shouted across the room as Yerim held her back from throwing herself at the phone.

“I MISS YOUR FACE TOO, BINNIE! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!” Minhyuk chuckled as he didn’t hesitate to match her volume through the phone.

“Ugh, you two make me sick”, Yerim rolled her eyes, “You literally saw each other this morning. Just get together already.”

As Soobin and Minhyuk continued to chat, engulfed in their own little world, you reached to grab another drink. If Minhyuk’s predictions were right, you were going to need something stronger than wine to get you through the night.

Stepping into Minhyuk’s apartment, Changkyun could feel the bass rumble underneath his feet already.

“Hey! You made it! I thought you guys weren’t going to come, it’s so late! But we have drinks and snacks in the kitchen. Oh, and Jae-in, the bathrooms just through the hallway on the right…” Minhyuk’s voice trailed off into the loud music. Changkyun followed behind Jae-in as his friend gave the newcomer a guided tour of his place.

Though he was familiar with the apartment, it felt a little weird for him to walk through it with someone else by his side. A pack of cards strewn over the floor jogged his memory back to a particularly warm night in June. With the sun just beginning to rise, you both stood below Minhyuk’s balcony at 4am. You shouted,

“HEY MINHYUK, WE’RE GOING TO PLAY UNO AT YOUR PLACE, D’YOU WANNA JOIN?”

“THOUGHT WE’D ASK IN CASE YOU’D FEEL LEFT OUT.” Changkyun added. You both snickered as Minhyuk opened his window to shout back at you, regretting that he had ever given you two the spare keys to his apartment.

“ARE YOU REALLY INVITING ME TO PLAY CARDS MY OWN HOUSE RIGHT NOW?!” Birds fluttered away startled, as a neighbouring window flashed on a light in annoyance. Your shouting combined could never top the sheer volume of Minhyuk’s voice. Changkyun grabbed your hand as you ran into the building laughing before the neighbour could join in on the screaming match.

With classes finished for the year, you had what felt like an infinite amount of time on your hands. Kyun smiled to himself as he was reminded of those summer nights that he had spent with you. Stargazing, pillow talking, daydreaming on repeat.

“Yeah, so you can get to the outdoor space through the living room but I’m giving you special access to my little balcony through my room because you’re uh, Changkyun’s friend.” Minhyuk grinned as he ended his tour.

Upon entering the actual party in the lounge, Changkyun stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the other side of the room. For a moment, the smoke in the room seemed to clear as his eyes trained on you throw your head back in laughter at Yerim’s animated storytelling. Hearing your voice so crystal clear made his heart swell with something that he couldn’t quite put into words. Half a year had passed since he had last seen you, sat broken on the floor of your apartment, explaining that it would be best to part ways. You had looked so drained of emotion then; it was such a stark contrast to what he was seeing now. He stood frozen, heart beating hard against his chest like a hammer.

“Kyun! Why are you so late?” Wonho, another friend of Kyun’s appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of tequila in his hand. “You gotta catch up on the drinks now, come on, open your mouth.” Wonho went to grab his face with one hand as he proceeded to try and pour some alcohol into his mouth jokingly. Changkyun chuckled as he play-fought with Wonho only to stop midway when he noticed Jae-in smiling at the sight.

“Oh, this is my friend Jae-in.” Kyun straightened up and brushed off his clothes.

Wonho went to shake her hand as Minhyuk snuck up behind him.

"Yeah, friend.” He giggled as he raised his brows suggestively and left as quickly as he appeared shouting, “Binnie! Where are you? We gotta go make those s’mores you wanted!”

Changkyun rolled his eyes and smiled as he guided Jae-in to the nearest table of drinks and set to introducing her to the rest of his friends, hoping that you wouldn’t notice him.

At this point, the three of you were beyond gone. Soobin had already passed out with a s’more in her hand as Minhyuk hauled her over his shoulder to put her to sleep in the guest room.

“And she.. she was telling me to sythensi.. she was telling me thynsenise, no, synsi.. she wanted me to synthesise, there we go, snythi…” Yerim tripped over words, dead set on getting her pronunciation right while Hyungwon sat and nodded with his signature painful smile on his face. She was determined, hand on his shoulder with a grip that let him know he wasn’t going anywhere until she had finished her story.

As for you? You were sat next to Yerim, a vacant smile on your face as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Day drinking followed up with a house party in the evening really wasn’t the best idea for the lightweights that you are but there you were, listening to your friend repeat the same sentence over and over again. An urgent voice in your head piped up, letting you know that you should probably go for a breath of fresh air.

“Yerim, hey, Yerim, I’m.. going for some air… stay with Hyungwon okay? Hyungwon, call me if anything happens?” You stood up, struggling to find your balance and teetered across the room to get to Minhyuk’s balcony.

The thing about you is that you are one of those blessed people that can sober up as quickly as they get smashed. You felt refreshed, taking in a deep breath as if to cleanse your alcohol ridden bloodstreams with the cool evening air. Your head still spun a little but as long as you kept your eyes anchored on the moon, you’d be fine in no time.

As much as your body needed a break from the party, it wasn’t the greatest timing for your mental state. Once you had assumed that Changkyun wasn’t coming to the party, you let go of the anxiety holding you back from enjoying yourself. You had been overstimulated from the alcohol, music, and people, not giving yourself a chance to think about anything else. But once those factors were gone, it was just you, alone with your drunken thoughts on a balcony looking up at the moon. And just like that, those suppressed memories regarding a certain boy couldn’t help but unpack themselves from your unconscious. Oh man, this was going to be such a good cry.

Changkyun was beginning to feel a little too tipsy for his liking. Though he was having a great time, it felt as if he wasn’t entirely present at the scene, like he was watching and laughing along through a TV screen. He slipped away from the kitchen island to get a breather.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was here.” He apologised, going to close the door of Minhyuk’s balcony to a figure hunched over the railing. You looked up from your hands at him and tried to focus on the blurry face.

His movements faltered when your eyes met, door still open. Just one look at you was enough for that knock back into reality Changkyun had needed. God were you a sight for sore eyes. He drank up the way your cheeks and nose were flushed pink, how your eyes were glossy in the moonlight, eyelashes thick with tears, and the way the softly coloured city lights behind you framed your face. With the night air stained with your perfume and the sounds of muted traffic perfecting the scene, he had never felt so in the present until now. He wanted this moment to last a lifetime.

“Changkyun?” You replied, as you wiped your eyes clear of the tears blurring your vision. You could tell that voice apart anywhere, you only questioned in the slight chance that you were just hallucinating, going insane.

“Are you ok? I can leave if you want, I-” He began hurriedly, knowing that you hated having anyone see you cry.

“I’m fine.” You sniffed.

“Bad day?” He asked softly, bringing himself to stand next to you, looking over at the cityscape.

“Yeah, something like that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh as you wiped the last of the tears from your face.

Tension hung so thick in the air you could feel it weigh down on your shoulders. Changkyun hated that you, the person he had once shared the deepest parts of his mind with, was someone he was now so uncomfortable with.

You both stood there awhile, looking out at the blinking lights of the cityscape. As quiet as it was, you could almost hear the sound of your brains whirring, going back and forth over whether or not you should say something to break the silence. Changkyun had spent months thinking of questions he wanted to ask you for when this moment came, but the alcohol and nerves fogged up his mind. All he could think of doing was holding you in his arms, hoping for you to be able to feel his apologies, sincerity and promises through the beating of his chest.

A heavy pressing in your lungs only intensified, as you thought about how the present situation had become the outcome of those few perfect years. You regulated your breathing, trying to break down the lump from coming up in your throat, on the verge of tears again. Thinking back, you realised that you probably could have been a little more understanding, could have softened your sharp words, could have opened your heart up some more to allow for Changkyun to do so in return. These thoughts and emotions bubbled up inside your chest to spill out of your mouth before you even knew what you wanted to say.

“Changkyun, I-”

“I found a really nice place for nights like this. Y/N.” he cut across with an anxious tremble in his voice. He could feel the apology ready to tumble from your lips, he had to stop you from apologising for things that you really didn’t need to. He hated that your heart was so big and so loving that you were willing to start trying to mend this relationship first. But he hated himself more for not having the courage to try to be even half as loving as you are.

He continued, still looking out over the balcony, worried that he’d start to tear up if he met your eyes again, “you can see the stars so clearly, it’s insane.”

You turned to him, tears welling in your eyes again. Despite having cut each other from your lives for what felt like a lifetime, it broke you how he could still read you like his favourite book.

“Can we go? Y/N? I’ve waited so long to show you.”

Hot tears fell down your cheeks again as Changkyun noticed and turned to you, pulling you into his chest as you cried out the mess of emotions you had amassed.

The person you had wanted to talk about your breakup with Changkyun the most, was so ironically Changkyun. He’d know how to calm you down, how to sort out your problems with ice cream in bed like any other issue you were facing. But what were you supposed to do when you had cut the one who understood you the most so bluntly from your life? Who were you supposed to turn to when you wanted to talk about that?

Your cries pierced into his heart deeper with every second that passed, feeling the hurt in your voice in the deepest parts of his soul. He replied by holding you tighter, and you could feel all those things he left unsaid that day you left in the warmth of his chest.

“We don’t have to rush,” He whispered into your hair, “I have all the time in the world for you. Let it out.”

He brought a hand up from your shoulders hesitantly, feeling almost undeserving of comforting you after the pain he had caused you. But to you, his hand stroking your hair was where you found your solace.

So, there you stood, in each other’s arms having poured out your hearts to one another without having said a single word. But you both knew that you felt every single one.

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Don’t Ignore Me! (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Requested from my Wattpad: "Can you please do a fluffy Bakugo x reader chapter where the reader was dared by her friends to try to do 'ignore your boyfriend for 24 hours' challenge? If you don't know, this challenge makes it so that the reader would have to pretend that Bakugo does not exist and they can't respond to any of Bakugo's questions or anything. Look up videos of the challenge if you want to get a better grasp of what the challenge is."

Genre: Fluff (and slight crack?)

Word count: 1,891

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: This ended up being longer than I anticipated... And was a bit difficult to start, but the more I wrote, the more I wanted to write, so I guess it worked out! I kind of imagined at least 3 different ways this could’ve turned nsfw, but THIS ISN’T THAT KIND OF ONE SHOT SHAME ON ME!

The next post will also be a slightly crack/fluff Baku request from my Wattpad then a Kiri angst, but I miiight not be able to post until Friday or Saturday. I’m taking a mini road trip down to Florida and it’ll take almost 14 hours, so hopefully I can get some writing done on the drive or once I get there.

Why did I let Mina convince me to do this?

I wanted to text Katsuki earlier and tell him not to come home just so I won't have to ignore him, but that wouldn't be ignoring him! She told me it would be fun just to see his reaction, and while I initially agreed, it didn't sound as appealing the more I thought about it. This will probably end in screaming or tears rather than laughs.

The door opens and keys rattle. "I'm home!" his voice booms out.

I keep my back turned to him as I stir the curry on the stove. You can do this, it's just a prank, it's only temporary. You got this, just pretend he's not there.

His heavy footsteps approach me, the hairs on my back tingling as I anticipate him coming up behind me as he usually does. His puffy hair brushes the side of my head as he peers over my shoulder. "Sweet, curry! Wait for me, we can eat together." Without hesitating, he kisses my cheek and leaves.

I have to resist the urge to answer him back. Since part of the challenge is to ignore him, I decide to eat without him. I spoon out some curry on rice and sit at the table by myself. I don't know how exactly he's going to react, but I know he won't be happy. We always have our meals together and we talk about our day. This is gonna be such a jarring break from routine; it'll be difficult for both of us.

He comes back into the room and I don't even look up at him, just scrolling through my phone as I eat. His footsteps stop short of the table. "What the- I thought I told you to wait for me!"

I focus on chewing my food so I don't say anything back to him and try to keep a straight face.

"And you didn't even leave a plate for me, what the heck," he grumbles to himself, swaggering into the kitchen to grab one from the cabinet. He finally sat down with his plate of rice, his pepper paste concoction, and curry. "So, how was your day-?"

I'd already finished my dinner, so I stand up, cutting him off. I feel his eyes on me as I casually put my plate in the sink and start cleaning up.

"What the hell?" I catch him mumbling to himself. "Babe? What's up?" He sounds genuinely confused at my behavior.

I don't answer him, continuing to just do my dishes and put away the leftovers into the fridge. I debated whether or not I should prepare Katuski's lunch for work tomorrow as I usually do. I mean, I'm just supposed to be ignoring him, not pretending he doesn't exist. I start taking some of dinner out into one of his containers wordlessly.

As I do that, Katsuki slowly stands up with his finished plate and places them into the sink. Even as he washes his own dishes, I feel him eye me with his crimson orbs, raking my entire figure over. When he's about to say something, I put his food container into the fridge and leave the kitchen, strolling into our shared bedroom and settling on our bed. There's a twinge of guilt as I lay around without him. Usually, we'd be attached at the hip from the time he gets home to when he leaves in the morning. He's so perplexed over the whole ordeal.

As I'm scrolling on my laptop, I notice him tentatively tiptoe into the room. He hesitates every step of the way as if he's testing the waters. Maybe he's thinking I'm angry at him? It's almost cute the way he slowly gauges my reaction to every move he makes like he's expected me to explode. I've never given him the silent treatment; when we argue, we just yell at each other one minute and the next minute we're fine. This is brand new territory for him.

The bed sinks in next to me as Katsuki rolls in. At first, he's just staring at me, scanning for any trace of anger. "Why are you so quiet today?" When I don't answer, he frowns. "Hello? What's going on?" He half jokingly pokes the side of my head.

I have to furrow my brows and bite my bottom lip to pretend like I'm too invested in what's on my screen so I won't laugh.

"Are you ignoring me?" I hear the annoyance growing in his voice. "Did I do something?" At my continued silence he throws himself onto his back and groans. "I don't get it! I don't know what I did!"

Aw, he's blaming himself. I feel kinda bad. I know he's beating himself up for a stupid prank I'm trying to pull on him, but I wanna see this all the way through, or at least as long as I can hold out.

His hand suddenly slams my laptop screen closed. It takes my entire being to keep a blank face and not glare at him. "Are you gonna talk to me now?" There's a hint of a smirk in his voice. I bite my tongue and open the screen again, but he pushes it back down. "Wonder what you're so engrossed in to talk to me."

I don't even huff as I pull out my phone and start scrolling through it instead. He groans out again and snatches my phone away from me. Hoe-

"I thought we solved our problems by talking about it? Why are you ignoring me?"

I turn over onto my side and show him my back.

"What the f-" The weight releases from the side of the bed and I shut my eyes just in case he wants to show up in front of me. He's getting angry now.

He paces around the room for a while, and the soft rustling tells me he's threading his hands messily through his hair. I feel proud that I know him so well, I can read him like the back of my hand. Katsuki's stomps finally approach me. "(Y/n)." His voice is close to me, so he's kneeling down, but his tone is more somber. "Talk to me, please? If it was something I did, I need to know, I really can't think of anything. I'm going crazy here, just say something for me?"

My heart sinks. This isn't something I was expecting from him. I thought he'd be louder about it.

"Seriously, I don't want to go to sleep while you're angry at me, that's not right. How do I know something didn't happen to you? Talk to me!"

His desperate pleads almost weaken me completely, and I want to break down and put a stop to this, but I'm gonna be strong. I keep my eyes closed even in the face of all this and swallow my emotions down.

He sighs and his footsteps retreat. Then they stop. Wait, what's he-

Suddenly the bed sinks at the foot and the weight travels up to my back. "Fine. Try to keep ignoring me, we'll see what happens."

Crap, what have I gotten myself into?

Katsuki first drops his heavily muscular arm over me, looping it around my shoulders so his thumb brushes the top of my collarbone buried into the mattress. My fingers itch trying to ignore my reflex of placing my hand on top of his. "Anyway, my day was okay. I really missed you though. Shitty Hair was there, annoying the hell out of me as usual. Phone battery was even there too. By the way, leftovers from last night still tasted really good a day later..."

I want to laugh. So hard. But if I even so much as shake from laughter, the jig is up. Every time I feel like laughing, I hold my breath. He's too funny, going on about his day as if I was actually talking to him. It's killing me!

Breaking off his monologue for a brief second, he throws a leg over my hip. "Where was I? Oh right-"

My eyes shoot open. WHAT THE HELL KATSUKI!?

I want to yell at him for being such a child, but I can't help thinking it's kind of adorable. He's hogging his favorite toy in the world, clinging to it like a lifeline. At this point, the laughter is just sitting in the back of my throat ready to explode at the drop of a hat.

Katsuki breaks off again and sucks his teeth.

Damn it, what's he planning now?

My body is rolled over onto my back and his full body weight suddenly crushes all the breath out of me. This idiot only smirks down at me. "You can't ignore a crushing weight on your chest, can you?"

"Fuck's sake! I can't do this anymore!" I finally break down and scream. "Get off me!"

He clings his arms around me again so neither of us can move. "Oh, look at that, you can talk!"

"Katsuki, your giant tits are suffocating me, get off!"

"Not until you tell me why you're ignoring me!"

I groan, utterly defeated anyway. "Fine! It was a prank! Mina dared me to do it!"

His eyebrows furrow. "Pinky put you up to this?!" He rolls off so I can breathe properly and sit up. "Why would you even follow through with that?"

"I don't know, I thought it would be fun?" I recognize the genuine anger and hurt in his eyes and reach for his hand. "It was stupid, I know, I'm sorry."

He turns around and gives me his back like a pouting child. "I really thought I did something, dumbass! Do you know how confused I was? That wasn't cool."

I crawl up behind him and slither my arms around his neck. "I know, it was hard for me to stay quiet knowing how upset you sounded."

Katsuki's voice gets softer. "I thought you were gonna break up with me."

My entire body gets cold at his somberness. Considering our track record, this is a strange occurrence for us. I can't imagine the thoughts going through his head, especially knowing how insecure he can feel. I bury my head in his neck. "I knew this would probably happen." I kiss the taut skin. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I love you, Katsuki."

He turns around in my arms and stares me down, his lip still slightly jutting out. "You have to make it up to me with cuddles for the rest of the night."

A relaxed smile spreads across my face, relieved that he's more or less recovered from it. "Deal."

We lay back onto the bed again, his head pressed into my chest and his arms constricting around me so I can't move away. Fingers brush against the side of his head, in his hair, and on the exposed skin at the hem of my shirt. "Don't do that to me again, dumbass."

"I won't, promise."

A light groan vibrates from his chest. "Tell me you love me again," he mumbles out the order.

I tilt my head down and press a kiss to his forehead before placing my lips near his ear. "I love you, dork."

"...Again."

"I love you, big baby."

"Again."

"I love you, Katsuki."

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #gender neutral reader #request #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Text

to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 2/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn’t know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he’s glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he’s been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can’t figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn’t trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: blood and injury, Remus being mildly unsettling

Chapter Word Count: 5,074

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 1) (part 3)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

They don’t talk about it.

Thomas would very much like to talk about it. But whenever he goes to bring it up, Janus glares at him in a way that promises a world of trouble if he so much as breathes a word, and Thomas really does not want to set back any of the progress he’s already made with him, so he shuts up about it. He’s not entirely sure why Janus is so opposed to addressing it; it can’t be that he doesn’t want the others to know, after all, because all the others are literally parts of Thomas and as such are privy to the knowledge of everything that Thomas experiences.

As best as Thomas can tell, it’s some sort of embarrassment that holds Janus back, some sort of shame, and Thomas doesn’t get it. Surely he knows that Thomas doesn’t mind at all, that Thomas enjoys the time they spend together, even if their conversations are far more one-sided than he would like. Janus seems to be under the impression that coming to him at all is in some way unseemly, while Thomas just wants him to be comfortable enough to approach him as a human.

But as more time passes, that seems less and less likely. Thomas spends far more time with snake-Janus than with human-Janus, and Janus begins to come with him even when the sun shines bright and his spot by the window is available. Thomas becomes quite familiar with carrying a weight looped around his neck, and wishes he could puzzle out why Janus is acting this way.

The worst part is that with every passing day, he feels like he understands Janus less, not more. Because the way he acts during meetings and discussions, when he pops in to offer opinions and advice masked as sarcasm and cutting quips, is entirely different to the way he acts as a snake, when he and Thomas are alone together, when he leans into all the contact Thomas has to offer, seeking warmth, and, Thomas suspects, company. It’s almost as if he’s dealing with two entirely different people, each one unwilling or unable to discuss the other, and frankly, Thomas has no idea what to do about it.

Because he’s worried that if he pushes too hard, demands one answer too many, Janus will stop approaching him at all, in any form. And that is the last thing he wants.

So, he leaves it be, and resigns himself to the idea that human-Janus may just remain incomprehensible to him, and that snake-Janus is the closest he will get to making a friend out of him. And if that turns out to be the case, then gosh darn it, he will be the best friend to snake-Janus that he possibly can be.

This has the side effect of leading him to a snake-centric fact-finding mission, which Logan appreciates, at least, because “even if the information may not be applicable to most aspects of your life, at least you’re learning something, Thomas.” Which he supposes is fair. He learns a great many things about snakes over the course of a few days, most of it interesting, if not particularly relevant. He doesn’t know how much of this actually applies to Janus, since he’s not a real snake.

Though he does find out that snakes don’t have eyelids. That would explain the whole no-blinking thing.

Other than his impromptu investigations, they fall into an equilibrium fairly easily. Janus will seek him out at all hours of the day and wrap himself around his arm or neck, sometimes staying awake and aware and sometimes drifting off into sleep. And when he’s fed up with the company, he leaves, disappearing with neither warning nor fanfare. Thomas settles into this new routine with little effort, and decides that if this is all he’s going to get from Janus, he’ll take it.

He gets used to it, so much so that he stops looking every time he feels Janus curl around him. This turns out to be a mistake.

He’s procrastinating, as per usual. His deadline is a full week away, and even Virgil has been unable to provide the urgency that Thomas needs to push through and finish his latest project. He knows that this will only end badly, that he’s going to end up staying up until the early hours of the morning in a few days if he doesn’t get started now, but he simply doesn’t feel like it. So, he’s scrolling through Amazon instead, clicking through pages of items that he neither needs nor particularly wants.

He’s been looking at a lot of frogs, lately. Cute, decorative frogs, the kinds that sit on mantles and don’t do much of anything. And plushies, too, and those are actually tempting. He’s pretty sure that it’s Patton’s influence.

“What do you think?” he asks, holding up his arm so that Janus can see the screen. Janus hisses quietly, and he laughs. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He doesn’t have the money to spend on a bunch of decorative frogs, even if he had a strong inclination toward doing so, but it’s fun to look. He’s seriously considering a stuffed animal, but he’s pretty sure that Logan intends to talk him down from that, so there’s no real need to be concerned about it. Even if he ends up buying one after all, he thinks it would be worth it.

He glances down at Janus, trying to figure out if he’s enjoying this at all, or if he’s just irritated. And that’s when he finally notices the blood.

He freezes up, his muscles tensing, and blinks hard, hoping that it’s a trick of the light, or that spending so many hours doing practically nothing has fried his brain at last. But no; Janus’ scales are dotted with rusty red, and Thomas traces the blood back to a long gash trailing down his side, sluggishly oozing, slowly dripping onto his arm. He stares for a long moment, his mind stalling, and he wonders if the scent of iron flooding his nose is real or imaginary. Or rather, real by a certain standard, since everything to do with his sides is technically imaginary, but oh god, why is he bleeding so much? He thought that his sides could wave off injuries, that nothing could truly affect them unless they wanted it to? Or is that just Logan? And then there’s the question of what did this to him in the first place, and how exactly he’s supposed to treat someone who’s a figment of his imagination, and whether or not any of the real medical supplies he has would work at all—

Focus, Thomas.

It’s like a whisper in his ear, gentle and firm. Logan’s voice. The world snaps into sharp clarity, mind and adrenaline working in tandem.

“Oh my god,” he says, and Janus’ head swivels to face him. The movement is slow, almost lethargic, as if he’s operating on a time delay. “You’re hurt. Okay. Well, not okay. But you’ll be okay.”

He has a first aid kit in the bathroom. He has no idea whether that will help or not, but he won’t know until he tries, as his logic helpfully points out. So the first order of business is to get to the bathroom. He stands, setting his laptop to the side, trying to jostle Janus as little as possible. Now that he’s paying attention, more and more details filter in; Janus’ grip on his arm is looser than usual, his eyes dull and glazed. His hat, usually so perfectly placed, is just slightly askew.

He makes it to the bathroom in short order, yanking the kit out from under the sink and nearly spilling its contents across the floor. He’ll need both hands for this, and he looks to Janus with no small amount of trepidation, wondering how well he’ll take being moved. He doesn’t want to cause him more pain than necessary, and he doesn’t know how aware he currently is, doesn’t know if he’ll lash out if he feels threatened. He gives him an experimental nudge, prodding at him with one finger, and Janus hisses, shifting his coils to hold on tighter.

“C’mon,” Thomas says. “You gotta let me help you, buddy.”

There is is again: buddy. He still doesn’t think it fits quite right, but it seems to slip out anyway, and now is hardly the time to worry about it, not when Janus still shows no sign of budging.

“Please, Janus,” he says, dangerously close to begging. “I promise, I’m not gonna let anything else happen to you, but you need to let me see where you’re hurt.”

Janus’ tongue flickers out, tasting the air, and his eyes seem to focus just a bit. One minute passes, and then another, and Thomas is about to try to remove him by force when finally, he lets go, slithering onto the counter, his motions hesitant and pained, softly hissing all the while. Blood begins to drip onto the sink, the sickening red smearing across the countertop.

“Thank you,” Thomas says, not bothering to hide his relief. “Okay, um, I’ve got bandages. And painkillers, if you want them… can snakes take painkillers?” He sets things out as he names them, slowing as he hits a snag. Not only does he not know if snakes can take painkillers, but he also doesn’t know if there are any other substances in here that would do more harm than good, or if there are any special steps he should take due to his scales, or the fact that he’s cold-blooded. In fact, he has absolutely no idea how to treat a snake, and the idea that he might end up making things worse is enough to send his anxiety ratcheting up a few notches.

Is he overthinking this? He might be overthinking this. But what if he’s not?

Try to remain calm. If you don’t know enough to work within this situation, change the situation.

Logan again, though he’s not sure how that’s supposed to help. He would change the situation if he could— heck, that’s what he’s trying to do— but if it were so simple as wishing this whole scenario away, he would have done it by now. He’s not sure how to—

Oh, wait. Change the situation, or change Janus’ situation?

He has absolutely no idea how to treat a snake. But Janus doesn’t have to be a snake.

He crouches down so that he’s on eye level with Janus, who is limp and unmoving on the sink counter, tracking his motions with clouded eyes. It’s not just the large gash, he realizes; that’s the worst of it, but there are several shallower cuts, all still open and bleeding, and he swallows hard.

“Okay, so, I don’t want to make things any worse,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Do you think you could turn back into a human for me? Just so that I know what I’m doing?”

Not that he knows much about treating humans either, but at least he’d know where to start. Perhaps if Janus’ injuries were less severe, he could work with them in this state, but that prominent gash looks deep and angry, probably about six inches long, wide and painful, rending scales apart and leaking dark blood and god, he is so afraid of making this worse—

Janus stares at him, and doesn’t react.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas says, because he is. He doesn’t know why Janus only initiates contact with him as a snake, doesn’t know why the very idea of deviating from that seems to disquiet him. Asking him to be human now, like this, almost seems wrong, like they’ll be breaking what understanding they do have between them, breaking the peace they’ve found with each other lately. But then, the peace is already broken, he thinks, has been broken since Janus showed up bleeding. “I know you probably don’t want to. But I want to make this better, and I don’t think I can if you’re uh, shaped like this. I… I guess I’m asking you to trust me.”

It’s a tall order, and he is well aware of that. Janus is Deceit, after all, and Deceit is practically the antithesis of trust. He’ll probably have to work with Janus as a snake after all, and he’s just resolving himself to do the best he can when Janus shifts in place, raising his head.

Thomas isn’t sure how to process what happens next. One part of his brain tells him that the change happens slowly, that Janus’ form stretches and morphs in impossible ways, scales fading away and features rearranging before his eyes. The other part of his brain insists that the shift is instantaneous, that it happens as quickly as blinking, that in one moment, there is a snake curled on the counter and in the next, there is a man, with no gradual transition between the two. But however it happens, Janus now sits in front of him, arms and legs all present, hunched in on himself and wheezing. One hand flies to his side, clutching at his shirt.

Thomas blinks. For a second, his mind fights with itself, trying to decide on what, exactly, he just watched. Then, he decides that it doesn’t matter, that he’ll have a crisis about it later, and that there are more important things to concentrate on.

He reaches out, placing a steadying hand on Janus’ shoulder. “Easy, easy,” he says, raising his voice to be audible over Janus’ gasps. “Are you okay?”

It takes a minute for Janus to get his breathing under control, and when he does, he looks up at Thomas, his expression pinched. “Just fine,” he rasps. “Absolutely perfect, can’t you tell?” His voice is strained, tension showing in the lines around his eyes and in the thin set of his mouth. “Really, Thomas, the fuss is hardly necessary. I—” He cuts off with a slight gasp, eyes squeezing shut, and Thomas feels his heart clench.

“Hm, yeah, no, I think I’ve got the right to fuss a little bit,” he says, hoping his voice stays level. He looks him up and down, searching for the injury, and finds nothing; his shirt appears immaculate, his whole outfit as perfectly assembled as usual, not a rip or tear in sight. If it weren’t for the pain on his face, the tremors wracking his frame, Thomas wouldn’t suspect that he was injured at all, and he frowns. “Can you, uh—” He gestures— “take off your shirt, maybe? So I can see where you’re hurt?”

Janus sighs heavily, as though the request has greatly burdened him. He waves one hand in the air, and his shirt and capelet vanish, revealing his bare torso. Under any other circumstance, Thomas might be fascinated by the scales that trail all along his chest and left arm, but right now, his attention centers on the gash bloodying his side, and the thinner scratches that cover him. They all look bigger than they were before, more serious, and he hopes that he didn’t make the wrong decision in requesting him to shift. If it had been a bad idea, he would have refused, right?

“God, Janus,” he says. “What happened?”

Janus sighs again, rolling his eyes. “A mishap in the Imagination,” he says. “Unfortunately, both Roman and Remus designed the place so that its effects stick around even after leaving.”

… Alright. That’s probably something to talk about later; he doesn’t particularly like the reminder that he has no idea how most of the mindscape works. “But I thought you could heal yourselves?” he can’t help but ask. He vividly remembers the day he met Remus, the way that none of his attacks seemed to affect Logan for more than a few seconds.

“We all can, to some degree,” Janus agrees. “It’s more difficult for some of us than it is for others.” He hesitates, and the next words come out slow and almost defensive. “I am capable of it, if I succeed in persuading myself that the problem doesn’t exist in the first place, but in order to do so, I need to sufficiently distance myself from any negative sensations that accompany the harm. I am… currently finding that difficult.” He glares. “I’ll mange perfectly well, given time. There is no need for any of this.” He waves an arm to punctuate the declaration, and it might have been somewhat convincing if it weren’t for the fact that he immediately curls in on himself, face paling, like he’s pulled something the wrong way.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Well, how about you let me help you anyway, just for my peace of mind?”

Janus stares at him for a long moment, face unreadable. Finally, he glances away. “Do what you wish,” he says. “If you want to waste time on this, be my guest.”

He hums noncommittally, already inspecting the wound. “I don’t think that taking care of you is a waste of time,” he says, fishing through the first aid kit. He comes up with a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol, looking up just in time to see what can only be an expression of shock fade from Janus’ face, and god, what must he be doing wrong if that is Janus’ reaction to being told that he cares about him? He can’t unpack that right now, or else he might cry, so he holds out the Tylenol instead. “Painkillers?”

Janus nods slightly, and takes two dry. From there, Thomas works in silence, cleaning the wounds as best he can and bandaging them. It takes longer than he expects, and he debates whether or not the long gash will need stitches. He decides not to make the attempt, trusting that what Janus says is true and that he will be able to heal before too long. So he wraps bandages around his torso, and Janus, for his part, remains perfectly still, staring straight ahead, an occasional soft hiss the only thing that betrays his discomfort.

“Okay,” he says quietly, inspecting his handiwork. “I think that’s the best I can do.”

Janus shoots him an unreadable look. “In that case,” he says, “I believe I’ll be going now.”

He hops down from the counter before Thomas can stop him, and his face crumples like a wet sheet of paper. Thomas catches him as his knees give out, hooking his hands under his arms. He is surprisingly light, his skin cool to the touch.

“How about we don’t do that, actually,” he says. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go to my room, and I can work and you can get some rest?”

Janus hisses, trying to jerk away. It’s not difficult to prevent him from doing so; he has all the strength of a floppy pool noodle. “Oh yes, because I’m in dire need of a babysitter,” he spits out, and perhaps Thomas should feel intimidated, but looking at him, at the way all the color has drained from his face, at the way his eyes have glazed over even as they dart around the bathroom, all Thomas can muster up is a deep worry.

“I’m not trying to babysit you,” he says. “Believe me, I know that you of all people don’t need babysitting. But if you try to sink out now, I’m just gonna be stressed out, so if you’d stick around for a little bit, I would really appreciate it.”

Janus stills. The silence stretches on.

“Fine,” Janus says. “Sure. Whatever.”

Thomas restrains himself from letting out a sigh of relief, instead adjusting his grip on Janus until he is only supporting part of his weight. From the look on his face, Janus wants very much to grumble about the indignity of the situation, but miraculously, he remains quiet all the way to Thomas’ room, though he begins to drag his feet when he sees what Thomas intends.

“If you want me to rest,” he says, “I am perfectly capable of doing so in my own room. There’s hardly a need for me to take up space in your bed.”

“Okay,” Thomas says, lowering him to sit on the bedsheets and doing his level best to ignore his glare, “but then I won’t know that you’re alright. Also, I don’t see what the big deal is? It’s not like we haven’t done this before. You were just, uh, snakier.”

He knows immediately that it is the wrong thing to say. Janus’ face sets into an impassive wall, and he looks away, refusing to make eye contact. Thomas can’t tell what he’s feeling, whether it’s anger or embarrassment or frustration or some stubborn combination of the three. But he settles himself against the headboard without further argument, seemingly determined not to carry on any further conversation, so Thomas resigns himself to the silent treatment and sets up with his laptop on the other side of the bed, several inches placed between them.

The atmosphere is awkward, heavy. They both know that Thomas wants to talk, and they both know that Janus will not reply, or if he does, it will be with sharp sarcasm or otherwise cutting words, an answer that will not answer anything at all. So Thomas doesn’t say anything, merely glances over every now and again to be sure that Janus is still there, is still fine, is still breathing. Every time, he is greeted with the same sight: Janus staring off into the empty space in front of him, face blank, a faint tightness around his eyes the only indication that he is still in pain. There is a wall between them, invisible yet insurmountable, and Thomas has no idea how to breach it.

Why does their relationship feel so off-kilter now? Why are things so natural between them when Janus is a snake, small and speechless and cuddly, and not when he is a human?

“I don’t mean to force you to stay,” he murmurs. “If you’re really that uncomfortable, it’s alright if you leave.”

He’s watching him out of the corner of his eye, and as such, he sees the wince, slight though it may be.

“It’s… not that,” Janus admits. “I am grateful for your concern, truly. I just… so love being in unfamiliar territory.” His voice is a quiet drawl, but laced with exhaustion, his words just shy of slurred together.

He takes a second to parse through the words, and then smiles. “Well, that makes two of us,” he says. “I’d be alright with muddling through together. And look, I know that most of the time, when we hang out, you’re a snake. And that’s fine! One hundred percent fine, if that’s what you’re most comfortable with! But uh, I really wouldn’t mind spending more time with you as, like, a person, too, if that makes sense. Not that you’re not a person when you’re a snake! Wait—” He furrows his brow, trying to untangle his words, and looks over, certain that Janus will at least be amused by his rambling.

He’s not. Because Janus is asleep, his chin resting against his chest and his hat about to fall into his lap. Thomas feels an inexorable sense of fondness sweep over him, and with a gentle movement, he reaches over to pluck the hat from Janus’ head, revealing brown hair that falls in springy waves. He places the hat on the nightstand, casting one last look at Janus before returning his attention to his laptop.

There is plenty of work to do, and he is content to do it here, sitting in bed with Janus napping by his side. So he does, his fingers clacking against the keys long into the night, and Janus sleeps on.

-----------

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. But he must, because he wakes, and slowly processes the fact that all is not as he left it. For one, the light is off, the room dark, and his laptop is resting on the nightstand, next to the shadow of Janus’ hat. For another, there is a heavy weight on top of his chest, pinning one of his arms against his side, and in the seconds before his eyes adjust sufficiently to the darkness, he fears the worst, fears that someone has broken into his apartment and… crawled into bed with him, and the irrationality of that idea is enough to dampen his panic. He squints, trying to will his vision into focus, and begins to make out what features he can see of the face pressed against his chest, features that very closely resemble his own, and that is when he remembers: Janus on his arm, Janus injured and bleeding, Janus on his bed, Janus asleep. Janus… still here.

Janus, snuggled up against him, his head resting on his chest, his body curled into his side, latched onto him with both… no, there’s more than two arms. At least four, maybe more; it’s difficult to determine without the light on, because all that Thomas can tell is that he is being very thoroughly hugged, and that it feels very nice.

This fact is distracting enough that it’s a full three minutes or so before he realizes that there is another figure perched on the edge of his bed. Panic roars up in him once again, his heart pounding and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, but then he notices the details, notices the poof of the figure’s sleeves, the wildness of their hair silhouetted against the light that creeps around the edges of the doorframe, the unholy red gleam of their eyes. And he… well, he doesn’t relax, not exactly. But most of his fear sidesteps directly into annoyance.

“Remus,” he hisses, as quietly as he can manage. “What are you doing?”

Remus cocks his head, his eyes shining brighter. He’s crouched almost like a grotesque parody of a cat, ready to pounce. But the Duke himself is still and silent, and it’s very odd. Almost worrying. And when he finally speaks, it’s not at all what Thomas was expecting.

“DeeDee got hurt,” he says, voice a subdued whisper, and Thomas is taken aback, both by the seriousness of his tone and the evident consideration toward not waking Janus up.

“I— yeah,” Thomas replies, uncertain as to where this is going. “I, uh, patched him up as best I could. He said he’d heal soon.” A thought occurs to him, and if Janus weren’t keeping him flat on his back, he’d be sitting bolt upright, finger pointed in accusation. “Wait, he said he was hurt in the Imagination. Did you have something to do with that?”

“I can’t keep an eye on every part of La La Land at once, Thomas.” He shrugs. “It’s not my fault if Snake from Snake Farm wandered into something he shouldn’t have.” He giggles, high-pitched and a little manic, but Thomas wonders at his tone of voice. It’s as irreverent as always, but underneath that— can it be concern? He really didn’t think Remus did concern. “Snakes should know better than to let their guard down. Your mind is dark and full of terrors.” He smiles, several rows of pointed white teeth gleaming an unnatural white in the shadows.

“I don’t even watch—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head, and then freezes as Janus makes a small sound. Seconds pass, and he waits with bated breath, but Janus doesn’t seem to wake. “Okay, then,” he continues, more quietly. “Is there a reason why you’re here?”

Remus blinks, and once again, Thomas is reminded of a cat. A terrible, eldritch horror of a cat, but a cat nonetheless. “DeeDee doesn’t like to be around people when he’s hurt,” he says, rocking back and forth in place. “He doesn’t like people knowing when he’s weak.” He sighs through his nose, his breath whistling more than is natural. “He holes up in his room and doesn’t come out for anything, usually. Not even when I bang on the door and put rats in his air vents.”

Thomas stares, trying to process that. “But he’s here with me,” he says dumbly. “He decided to stay here. He’s…” He trails off. He doesn’t need to describe what Janus is doing; surely, Remus can see it for himself, can see them engaging in what can only be labeled as cuddling. And it’s not as if this is the first time; it’s just the first time Janus has been human-shaped.

“Yes, he is,” Remus agrees, voice sharp, and he is definitely trying to convey something here, something that Thomas is missing. “Tommy-boy, Tommy-boy, Tommy-boy, you’re just not getting it, are you? Well, that’s fine. Just remember that the snakes on the plane die too, if the plane crashes.”

“Is the plane crashing?” Thomas asks, voice hoarse, hesitant, and once again, Remus smiles, wide and dangerous.

“Not now, maybe,” he says. “But it still could. It always can. That’s the fun thing about airplanes. I could help with that, if you wanted.”

“No thanks,” Thomas is quick to reply.

Remus shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says, and then pauses. “Janus doesn’t let just anyone this close, you know. So don’t fuck it up.”

It’s such an uncharacteristic statement that by the time Thomas has recovered enough to reply, Remus is gone, melting into the bedsheets in a grotesque puddle of goo, and then, even that disappears. Thomas is left in a dark, quiet room, and he has never felt more awake.

But Janus is still here, still asleep, is holding onto him for dear life and hiding his face against his chest. And it’s something precious, something intimate, something that Thomas feels privileged to see at all, and Remus’ voice rings loud in his head: Janus doesn’t let just anyone this close. Why, then, has he allowed him this? Why has he let Thomas see him at his most vulnerable, no matter how reluctant he was at the start? Why did he choose to stay, rather than leaving once Thomas nodded off?

Each question only leads to more questions, and it’s clear that he won’t receive any answers tonight. So he settles back in as best he can, though it is a long time before he manages to fall asleep again.

In the morning, Janus is gone. He wishes he could be more surprised.

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#sanders sides #ts sides #platonic thomceit #character!thomas #janus sanders #ts janus #remus sanders #ts remus #my fic #part two babyyy #long post

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plainbrunettelbl · 4 years

Text

ABO (O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) Reader Blushing Birthday Boy

Word count: 1679

Warning: Enough fluff to kill you.

Title: ABO (O) Amajiki Tamaki x (A) Reader Blushing Birthday Boy

Summary: It’s your Omega’s birthday and you can’t wait to take him out to celebrate!

(Gif not mine credit to the owner!)

🐙-You were excited to spend the day with your sweet Omega on his birthday! You had planned this day a week in advance just to make sure everything was perfect.

🐙-You didn’t tell him where you were taking him, wanting to surprise him when you pulled up to place. You excitedly pecked him on the cheek when he climbed into the car. He let out a quiet squeak before slumping into the leather chair in a blushing mess.

🐙-Your Omega was so adorable! Your Alpha purred at the sight of him.

🐙-“Happy Birthday, Omega! I can’t wait until we get there! We are gonna have so much fun today, Tamaki.” You beamed, pulling away from the curb and driving to the destination.

***

🐙-You parked the car and turned to him. You had made him close his eyes five minutes before you got there just to see his face when he opened his eyes are saw where you were.

🐙-“Okay! Open up, Tama.” You grinned, loving the way his indigo eyes reflected the sunlight hitting them.

🐙-“A carnival?” He questioned, looking at the twirling rides and white and red striped tents.

🐙-“Yeah! I am glad today is your birthday since this is their last weekend here.” You said, getting out of the car.

🐙-You walked over to his side and opened his door for him. Once his feet hit the ground you scooped him up in a hug. You Alpha nearly purring at his sweet smell rubbing off on you.

🐙-You should have scented him before you went into a crowd with a bunch of Alphas but you knew he would short circuit if you scented him it in public. For now, you were content in leaving a little of your scent on him with the hug.

🐙-“Are you excited, Omega? I asked Mirio if you ever been to a carnival before and he said no. I thought it would be cool to do something you haven't done before.” You said, pulling away and looking up until into his blushing face.

🐙-“Yeah, it seems fun.” He stuttered, still feeling the warmth of your body against his.

🐙-His Omega was begging him to stay wrapped up in your arms all day but he pushed his Omega’s thoughts down. His Alpha had planned this trip for him and he was gonna enjoy every second of it.

🐙-“Well come on Omega! The fun is about to begin!” You smiled, taking his hand and tugging him to the entrance.

***

🐙-You and Tamaki stood in line at the very first ride you saw. It was a huge roller coaster that had so many loops and turns it made you head spin just looking at it.

🐙-“There are so many sweet treats I know you are dying to try! Let’s get on a few rides before we start hitting up the food stands. I don’t want my Omega getting sick on their birthday!” You laughed, loving the way Tamaki was trying to hide with his face stuffed in your chest.

🐙-“Y/N...” Tamaki mumbled, nuzzling more into your chest.

🐙-“What’s up? If it’s about the food we don’t have to wait if you are hungry now. It’s your birthday so we are gonna do whatever you want.” You hummed, rubbing a hand down his back.

🐙-“I don’t think I can go on this ride.” He said, shivering a little.

🐙-Your Alpha sat up immediately, her protective instincts rushing forward.

🐙-“What’s wrong, Tamaki? Did I mess up? Are you afraid of roller coasters?” You asked, you heart stalling at the thought of ruining your poor Omegas birthday.

🐙-You had planned the perfect day and not taken into account that Tamaki might not like roller coasters.

🐙-“No, Alpha! I am willing to try them but I would prefer if we went on the ones that have more than one bar holding you down in place.” He mumbled, embarrassed at his own fear.

🐙-The smile bounced right back on your face.

🐙-“Why didn’t you say so sooner? Let’s go find another ride. This one looks like it would give us a headache anyways.” You hummed, dropping a peck on his forehead before pulling him away.

***

🐙-After a few rides, you and Tama finally hit up the food stands. Your Omega looked like he didn’t eat a lot but thanks to his quirk he could put away quite a lot of food.

🐙-“What do you want, baby? The turkey legs look good. I could go for a couple of hot dogs though.” You pointed out, looking at the menu.

🐙-From the corner of your eye, you saw Tamaki eyeing the ice cream vendor not too far from you.

🐙-You knew he wouldn’t ask for ice cream if you didn’t push him. He had wanted to pay for his ticket at the door. You had lightly scratched the back of his scalp and told him you were paying for everything today. He had melted in your grasp and didn’t put up much of a fight after that.

🐙-He usually wouldn’t let you spend a dime on him if it wasn’t needed.

🐙-Like you would sit by and let your Omega go dessertless after a meal. That was unthinkable. Your Alpha was determined to spoil your soft-spoken Omega.

🐙-“I think I will get a turkey leg and some chili fries if that is okay, Alpha?” Tama asked nervously eyeing the prices on the menu and looking back at you.

🐙-“Of course! You know what! I am feeling some fries too. How about I buy us a large order of chili fries to share?” You convinced, look sideways at your gentle mate.

🐙-You knew a small order of fries and a turkey leg wasn’t gonna fill him up so you would buy a big plate for him and pretend you were eating your fill.

🐙-He perked up at the suggestion.

🐙-“Sounds good, Alpha.” He hummed, wrapping his arms around your arm while you placed your order.

🐙-You both walked to a table not too far away and waited for it to be made.

🐙-“Are you having fun, Tamaki?” You questioned, pulling him closer to you by his waist.

🐙-“A lot of fun, Alpha! Thank you for bringing me.” He beamed, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips.

🐙-“Are you sure? I know the crowd must be a lot for you.” You asked again, peering out at the bumbling crowd shifting around you both.

🐙-“Not if you are by my side, Y/N. Everything seems to fall away when I am in my Alpha’s arms.” He looked down a small smile on his face.

🐙-Your Alpha howled in pride.

🐙-“I’m glad to hear that, Tama. Looks like our order is ready. Let’s eat and afterward that ice cream stand is calling our name.” You said standing up to go get your food.

🐙-Your Omega was getting his sweet treat whether he liked it or not.

***

🐙-You were walking down the two rows were the carnival games were set up. You looked as kids and adults tossed rings and threw darts. You knew taking your Omega here was evil but you couldn’t help it.

🐙-There was a reason why this lane smelled of Omegas more than the rest of the carnival. All the stuffed animals stacked on the game walls were too tempting for any Omega that passed by.

🐙-Now you need your precious Omegas eyes to latch onto one and you would be all too pleased to win it for him.

🐙-As soon as his indigo eyes locked onto a small octopus plushy your target was set. Your Alpha was already upfront and center ready to demolish anything in her path to win that soft toy for her mate.

🐙-“Ooh, look! Let’s try out that game. I bet I can knock over those milk cartons in no time!” You declared already walking up to the stand.

🐙-“Are you sure, Y/N? You know these games are rigged right?” Tamaki said, peering at the stacked cartons and trying not to let his eyes stray to the soft octopus hanging a foot away from them.

🐙-“Even if it is, I won’t let it stop me.” You winked, slapping down some money and grabbing the three baseballs you had purchased.

🐙-Your first throw knocked down three of the six milk cartons but it was just a practice shot to get a feel for it. Your second throw was much better, five bottles rolled off the stand.

🐙-“Blow a kiss on the ball for me, Tamaki.” You encouraged, lifting the baseball up to his lips.

🐙-He flushed red and backed away.

🐙-“W-what? Why?” He stuttered, his cute elf ears turning crimson as well.

🐙-“For good luck. You are my good luck charm after all.” You chuckled, offering him the ball again.

🐙-He was blushing up a storm but he still leaned down and blew a kiss on the ball.

🐙-“Thank you, Omega. Now its time to win you that octopus.” You grinned before throwing the ball with all your might.

🐙-Six bottles down and one plush octopus later you both were heading to the entrance. The sun was starting to go down and you knew it would get colder at night so you coaxed your timid Omega to leave.

🐙-You didn’t want your mate walking around in the cold after all.

🐙-Being cuddled up in the nest he had on the couch was a better option.

🐙-“Thank you for the plushy, Alpha,” Tamaki said, climbing into the car.

🐙-“No problem, Omega. Anything for you.” You smiled, turning the car on and making sure the heat was pointed in his direction.

🐙-“W-would you scent it for me when we get back?” He whispered, clutching it tightly to his chest, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest waiting for your answer.

🐙-“Sure thing, babe!” You grinned, happy today had turned out so well.

I had this idea of going to the carnival with Bakugo but since it was our elfs birthday today I changed it out. I hope yall liked it! This is also the first time I switched roles so please give me some feedback!

Please reblog and leave a like! Each really helps motivate me to post! 💜

#tamaki amakiji x reader #mha tamaki #Tamaki Amajiki #tamaki amakiji #bnha tamaki #abo #Omega #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse #Alpha #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #mha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #BNHA Headcanons #bnha imagines

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jensungf · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄? ฅ 𝐥.𝐣𝐧

summary: your mother always told you a lot as a child — about how you should always be kind to others, to always watch out for stray kittens in dark allies on your way to school and most importantly, to not judge a book by its cover. you didn’t always listen to her. yet you would have to say your biggest weakness would come in the form of cats. and maybe lee jeno as well.

pairing: shy!reader + badboy!lee jeno genre: high school!au, fluff<3 word count: 1.8k warnings: language, mentions of disease

author’s note: another one of my blurbs that accidentally turned into a really long drabble hehe i hope the anonnie who requested this enjoys! <3 as always constructive criticism is appreciated and you can request after checking my prompt list.

just like every other caring parent, your mom went on and on about what she deemed to be important life lessons during your childhood, and even now — about how you should always be kind to others, to always watch out for stray kittens if you pass by the alley next to the flower garden on your way to school and most importantly, to not judge a book by its cover.

you tried your best to listen to her. you really did. but sometimes, people had weaknesses and besides your more than often bouts of procrastination and incessant affinity for watermelon sour patch candies —

(“if i was your dentist, i’d probably hate and love you,” jisung snickered as you shot him a look of confusion. “‘cause you must have hella cavities but that would mean i could charge you more money! i’m so sm- ow, that hurts (y/n)!” you rolled your eyes after picking up the bag of watermelon sour patches you had thrown at his forehead and ripping it open to pop one in your mouth)

— yet you would have to say your biggest weakness would come in the form of cats. cute, fluffy, insanely adorable stray cats.

although you had your fair share of friends, you preferred to stray away from human interaction (honestly, it was too much of a hassle, you were never really the type to approach people first anyways, your shyness getting the best of you and you preferred it that way), you preferred the company of much smaller, fluffier animals. although your mother always warned you about the dangers stray animals possessed, whether it be how they could carry rabid diseases or put you at risk of bad luck, you stopped hesitating to bring some snacks for the poor, small kittens years ago on your daily walk to school.

you paused as soon as you heard a small mewl followed by some rustling and shuffled your feet forward, peering into the dark alley before you felt something nudge against your leg. you jumped back, but let out a sigh of relief. you crouched down, holding your hand out for the tiny kitten to nuzzle against.

you cooed and reached into your backpack, bringing out the cubes of watermelon you had packed earlier before gently offering a piece to the black and white kitten.

“what do you think you’re doing?” a gruff voice asked, causing you to flinch and jump back. your head snapped up, only to find the source of the voice to be someone who scared you a lot more than you liked to admit.

lee jeno.

everyone who knew anyone knew that lee jeno fit in with the cliche archetype of a bad boy. he hung out with his troublemaker friends in a group of seven (including jisung, but how you still managed to be friends with that giant noodle without encountering his friends, you will still never know), with rumors spreading like wildfire amongst your peers of them always being late to school, stirring up mischief with their motorbikes and causing ruckuses during detention.

you didn’t expect him to be here out of all places.

he was never the center of all of the attention, preferring to stay behind his loudmouth friends and observe quietly, laughing whenever donghyuck or jaemin would make a joke and joining in with his friends’ antics whenever he felt like it. but make no mistake — the moment anyone saw his muscular arms and the glint in his eye, they knew he wasn’t going to be one to mess with.

you realized he was staring you expectantly, waiting for an answer but your brain seemed to short-circuit from surprise. you opened your mouth, desperately trying to rack up a response with your pea-sized brain (stupid y/n, why did i have to forget how to speak an entire language right at this very moment?, you groaned internally) before closing your mouth and averting your eyes to the very interesting concrete ground.

“cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased, smirking almost flirtatiously. (you never noticed it but jeno’s ears flushed red, not knowing where this sudden confidence came from. he usually wasn’t the type to flirt… at least not like this in broad daylight with a random pretty stranger. he’d be damned to say jaemin was finally rubbing off on him.)

you bit your lip, unsure what to say back and cursed yourself for being so awkward. you glanced briefly at his figure, his broad shoulders donning his signature outfit of a black leather jacket, low cut almost hawaiian-looking shirt and ripped skinny jeans (it was literally so sunny outside, how was he not sweating in that? also, did he ever wash that jacket? you could’ve sworn you had never even seen him without it) before pressing your lips into a firm, thin line.

your eyes fluttered down to the kitty, ignoring him, yet you were struggling to remember how to breathe properly. your friends had always called you shy, albeit approachable, but you never realized how difficult it was for you to just simply talk to someone you actually sort of wanted to talk to until this very moment. why was just saying a single word so hard? and why did it have to be the school’s notorious bad boy here with you out of everyone in this town?

he frowned, not used to girls blatantly ignoring him, but it wasn’t the first time it happened. he tried to search your face for any sign of recognition, but you were too invested in the cat, or rather, his cat to pay him any attention.

(he’s never been jealous of a cat before but he’d never admit that at this moment, he would’ve liked to switch places with nal. what a nice life it must be for a cat to be fed watermelon all day and be coddled with attention and affection from a pretty girl.)

“how’d you know she liked watermelon?” he asked before bending down. your eyes flickered up until you realized how close he was to you, only a few mere inches away from your body. you shrugged, not trusting your voice to speak.

“nal,” he whispered, bending down to your level, whistling to coax her towards him. she meowed, licking the last bit drop of watermelon juice on her paw before pouncing towards jeno, her fluffy tail looping around his beat-up hightops. his usual stoic expression curled up into a boyish grin as he started petting her and murmuring praises of how adorable she was.

you could hardly believe your own two eyes. lee jeno, everyone’s picture-perfect example of a bad boy who looked like he walked straight out of the cheesiest teenage rom-com flick was ... a softie for cats?

never in a million years would you have pictured this in your mind.

you tried to stifle the laughter bubbling in your chest, but jeno looked up to catch your eyes. heat crept up your spine and consumed your face, causing you to look back down at the kitty who was nuzzling against him again.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows.

you couldn’t help it if your heart decided to do somersaults seeing his innocent expression, resembling that of a confused five-year-old child.

you shook your head before softly asking, “she’s yours?”

he bit back a grin at finally hearing your voice and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a silver chain collar with a charm (engraved with “nal”), the silver bell attached to it lightly jingling. how ironic yet fitting, you thought.

“i can’t take her home with me because i’m allergic, so i let her roam around here and visit every day until i can find a place for her to stay,” he explains as he scratches her behind the ear, earning a delightful meow before slipping the chain over her head.

you took a step back, mentally taking a snapshot of this moment. you couldn’t help but giggle lightly once you realized that jeno and nal looked almost exactly alike, as if nal was jeno in cat form, with her black and white fur adorned with a chain collar looking exactly like his usual monochromatic outfit and worn black leather jacket, not to mention the silver chain bracelets and necklace he wore all the time.

jeno’s head snapped up once again to watch you laugh.

his heart thumped a little harder than he would’ve liked to admit.

“bad boys don’t take care of stray cats,” you say, finally locking eyes with jeno. “especially the bad boys who are allergic to cats,” you smile.

he shrugged, his boyish grin still etched on his handsome face. (screw handsome, you couldn’t lie — you’ve wondered on more than one occasion how blessed his parents must be to have a son whose looks could rival a professional model’s face.)

you couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed now, looking more like a carefree and lovable child rather than a reckless troublemaker.

“don’t judge a book by its cover, sweetheart,” he said before giving you a wink, starkly contrasting with the way he tried to hide how he scratched his reddening nape afterwards.

he gave one last gentle rub to nal’s head before standing up, getting on his motorbike. he looked back, with a glint of something in his eyes. “need a ride, sweetheart? or the cat still got your tongue?”

you froze in your spot, feeling your face turn hot with embarrassment. you weren’t used to this. it was the school’s bad boy after all.

but you could get used to it.

mustering all the courage inside of your shy mighty heart, you look down at nal and gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head, letting her nibble on one last piece of watermelon.

“my mother always told me not to judge a book by its cover,” you mused, a hint of playfulness in your voice. “i guess i was wrong about you.”

“i’m y/n,” you added shyly.

jeno’s eyes crinkled into crescents, a genuine smile forming on his face.

“jeno.”

you walked hesitantly up to his bike, and took a seat behind him gingerly.

you let your arms fall to grip the sides of the seat, before jeno shook his head and lifted your hands up to wrap your arms securely around his toned torso. “hold on tight.”

guess your mother was right after all.

+ bonus blurb!

#jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #kwritersworldnet #nct dream scenarios #nct dream blurbs #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #fluff #jeno drabbles #drabbles #high school!au #badboy!au #i love badboy!jeno so much THIS WAS SO CUTE #leyna writes #hehe if anyone cant tell the symbol is a cats paw

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izukuwus · 4 years

Text

Bread and Brownies

Requester: @birds-have-teeth

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, love! I had a bit of fun with this one <3 I’m sorry it’s so short though aaaaaaaaaa I tried to find anywhere I could add more and I thought it would actually suffer if I tried to add more than this fic needed and I ;-; I’m sorry I love u

Warnings: some eggs were harmed in the making of this fic, some suggestive text but nothing spicier than pepper

Word Count: 1600+

"I think you look better like this, I dunno."

Izuku lets out an indignant gasp at the accusation. "And here you were saying I looked perfect before."

You giggle, turning back to the recipe with an eye roll. "Well, yes, but I hadn't seen you in an apron before." You toss your head over your shoulder, winking. "It's a good look for you, hon."

The apron in question is simple, understated. The main part of it is a smooth forest green that matches Izuku's hair, with black straps wrapping around his waist and shoulders and a baby blue pocket over his chest. It's a classic—in looping cursive on his chest reads "kiss the cook", but what makes it so perfect, however, is the smallest personal touch—the shoulder strap is held on by two white clasps in the shape of rabbit heads. The touch is subtle, but you can't help but mentally squeal at how cute he looks.

"Well, maybe I should wear it more often, then," he teases. "Oh, please." You pop up on your tip-toes, kissing him on the nose before shoving a bowl into his arms. "Less flirting, more mixing. You're the big, strong man, mix this up for me while I get out the other ingredients."

"Are we seriously making box mix brownies for your work party?" he asks with a roll of his eyes as he begins mixing the batter.

You snort. "No, the box mix is just the first step. The brownies aren't the show-stopper here, it's what we're putting on them."

"I still can't believe that you tricked us for years into thinking your godlike brownies are just Godiva brand, box mix brownies," Izuku says dramatically, lazily moving the spoon about the bowl.

"They're good, idiot. And the brownies are just an avenue for the good part, which is made from scratch."

"Box mix. My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend makes box mix brownies."

"Izuku, I will literally give you the softest hair known to man if you don't shut up about my family brownie recipe," you tease.

"First I'm not already perfect, and now you're telling me all those compliments on how soft my hair was were lies? Et tu, [name]?" His eyes are covered by his arm as he drapes it over his forehead dramatically.

You raise a single egg in your hand threateningly. "One more word and I crack it on your head."

He's silent for a long moment, meeting your playful glare with his own challenging glint. "How long am I supposed to mix this for?"

"Combined, but not smooth. We love the lumps in this house." You relax your posture a bit, setting the eggs back in their bowl and going back to collecting ingredients for the other things you've planned to bake today.

"Got it. How's this?" He tilts the bowl towards you, crossing your kitchen to lift the spoon out of the batter and show its consistency. You're satisfied with the consistency, but just in case, dip a finger in to taste. The minute your finger's in your mouth and you've nodded your approval, he slowly sets the bowl and spoon on the counter. "...also, you can try to crack an egg in my hair, but that's assuming you can reach it, box mix."

You squawk, reaching for an egg and scrambling after him as he bolts. "Izuku! That's it, get back here! I'll climb you like a tree if I have to!"

Laughter rings through the apartment as you chase Izuku, wielding an egg threateningly in one hand.

"No, no!" he calls over his shoulder. "I give, I give! Just spare me from your eggs-ecution, angel!"

You freeze, nearly dropping your weapon as you try hard not to double over in laughter. "I can be persuaded to let you off, this time, for a fee."

"What fee could I possibly pay in exchange for my life?"

You hum, eyeing him mischievously. "I think you know what I take as bribes by now." You carefully slip the egg into your apron pocket to put away later.

"Remind me?" he says innocently. You roll your eyes and tug him towards you, sealing your lips over his in a sweet, slow kiss. There's a suspicious hint of brownie batter on his lips, and when you pull back, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Have you been stealing batter when I wasn't looking, mister?"

He grins innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't. Such an upstanding hero would never lie to me or steal brownie batter." You smile and turn away to go pour the batter into the pan.

Izuku joins you not long after, wrapping both arms around you from behind and snuggling his face into the back of your neck. "I'm so glad you trust me, sweetheart."

"Yes, yes, I'm very loving and trusting," you tease. "Let me go so I can put this in the oven, dork."

"Nooo," he whines. "You're so huggable. Don't wanna let go."

"Oh my god, you are the worst baking partner. I'm never asking you to join a baking marathon with me again."

"But [naaaaaame]~" he whines into your ear before letting you go. "I love youuuuu." God, you can hear the pout in his voice.

"I love you too." You roll your eyes with a goofy smile before leaning down to slide the brownie pan in. "Come on, I promised you I'd teach you to make my favorite bread, and if you behave, we can get the first proof started before the brownies are out. Can you set the timer for me, baby? Fifteen minutes."

He nods, determination flashing in his eyes. "We're gonna work together so well you'll have to ask me for help next time."

You giggle. "Alright, alright, I get it. Let me know when the timer's set."

Izuku salutes you with a grin before dutifully setting about his assigned tasks. The rest of the baking goes as smoothly as it can–amid soft laughter, teasing jokes, and the occasional errant smear of flour, both the brownies and the bread are the best you've ever made them.

Bonus:

Later, when the smell of bread wafts through your apartment and the brownies are somehow successfully iced and cooling (despite your goofball's best efforts), you come up behind Izuku, wrapping one arm around him in a soft hug. "Thank you for helping me bake today, Izu."

If a man could purr, he would be. You press a gentle kiss to his back, giggling when you can feel the vibrations as he speaks. "Thanks for teaching me how to make your signature recipes."

Your eyes lock on their target as he speaks, readying yourself as your hand slowly inches toward its goal. "Mhmm. You'll never use the knowledge against me, right baby?"

He chuckles, wriggling around to turn in your arms. You panic, but it's far too late to abort the mission—you pop up on your tip-toes and pull him into a kiss before he can see what you were about to do. He smiles into the kiss, hands landing on your waist and pulling you closer. You peek one eye open to aim for the prize, and finally, finally, it cracks.

Izuku yelps when the first feeling of cold and wet seeps through his hair, yanking himself back in surprise. "Did you actually—[name]!"

In your heart of hearts, you know you should run while you can. Izuku's fast even without his quirk, but if you're quick and act while he's still processing, you can get away. So you bolt, expertly maneuvering your way around your furniture, and you're about to make it into the bathroom to hide when your feet go out from under you and you shriek as Izuku lifts you off your feet effortlessly.

"You are gonna pay for that," he growls playfully, carrying you into the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind him. He tilts his head forward, and you whine as the egg you'd cracked onto his head slides off and plops onto yours, the yolk breaking from the force of the landing.

"Zukuuuuu," you whine, writhing in his arms as the egg seeps into your hair. "whyyyyyyy?"

He giggles, carefully setting you down. "Now you have to join me in getting cleaned up."

"I would've joined you anyway, jerk!" You roll your eyes as you untie your apron, desperate to get out of your clothes before you have to wash egg out of them.

"I couldn't take that chance." He looks so damn smug, and god, you'd love to wipe that grin off his face, but you're more worried about stripping at present.

"Hate you," you grumble as you yank your shirt off. You yelp when arms circle your waist from behind, tugging you close as a warm kiss is placed on an egg-free section of your head.

"Love you too, my sweet little box mix."

The moment is sweet for about two seconds. Pretty much up until the moment a drop of egg white drips down onto your now-bare chest, eliciting a shriek at the cold, gross sensation.

"Okay, okay, moment over," you complain, forcing yourself out of your boyfriend's vice grip. "You can be cute when we're in the shower, egghead."

"Mhmm, and you can apologize for cracking an egg in my hair while we're there," he replies, raising a daring eyebrow at you before he strips down, himself.

You climb in the shower after him, and true to both of your words, he is cute while you're working the egg out of his hair, and you do, in fact, apologize. Whether or not that apology is, how one might say, proper, well, it's one that Izuku accepts wholeheartedly, and isn't that what really matters, in the end?

All Works Taglist: @tooloudarts @sapid-rose @xxangelpridexx @icythotsenpai@warmchoccymilk @wesparklebitch @izoodles @fujimoribaby @my-bnha-things

#my fics #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #nsfr #midoriya izuku reader insert #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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shuadotcom · 4 years

Text

The Smell of Spring | KTH

✿ Pairing: Taehyung x Female!Reader ✿ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, established relationship ✿ Word Count: 1.6k ✿ Rating: G ✿ Warnings: None ✿ Summary: Taehyung loves procrastinating almost as much as he loves you. ✿ A/N: This is an older work of mine that I’ve edited and re-written. A simple little fluffy piece.

"Noona, I don't want to do this!" Taehyung whined, throwing his hands in the air.

You looked up from your laptop at your boyfriend who was frowning so hard you were sure his mouth would become stuck that way. "Taehyung, you don't even have much left to do. You only have like half a page left of questions."

Taehyung dropped his head onto the dining room table and made a high pitched groaning noise. "But it's half a page too much! Besides, it's so nice outside and we're stuck inside doing work!" He gestured to the open window closest to you. You absolutely loved spring and all of the smells it brought with it. Grass that was finally growing again, flowers that were blooming, the fresh air that was transitioning from cold to warm. You made sure to always leave your windows open during the day so the smells could waft into the apartment.

"Well, I only have a page left of my paper to type so when we're both finished, we can go to the park and get ice cream."

"Or...we could go now." He beamed at you and batted his eyelashes.

"Your cutesy act won't work today, Tae." The brunette boy pouted and let out a sigh. He looked down at the computer screen in front of him, finding it completely uninteresting. He was trying to be more serious about becoming more fluent in English, but he was not feeling it today. He glanced back over at you and saw how intensely you were staring at your screen as your fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Hey, babe, what class are you doing homework for again?" He asked.

You glanced up at Taehyung briefly. "I’m writing a paper for my sociology class.”

“Do you like that class?”

“It’s fine. My professor is a little boring, but overall it’s pretty interesting.” You went back to typing, slipping back into the zone.

"What’s your favorite class out of the ones you’re taking this semester?” He asked after a few more minutes of silence.

"Taehyung, stop procrastinating, and do your work." You deadpanned, already knowing what he was trying to do.

Taehyung let out a groan of defeat and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "I really hate this."

You loved your boyfriend, but truly you had never met anyone so dramatic (okay that was a lie seeing how you knew both Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin). "I told you I would help you if you needed it. Did you forget that English is my first language?"

“And I told you that I can do this by myself. It’s not learning if you tell me the answers, duh babe.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well then shut it and learn something!” Your tone was joking as you looked for the closest thing next to you to throw at him. You grabbed a nearby napkin you had used to wipe some dust off of your computer screen, balled it up, and tossed it across the table, watching it bounce off of Taehyung’s nose. You couldn’t help the loud laugh that slipped out of you as you looked at his blank expression.

"Noona, did you just throw a used napkin at me?" His tone was flat and he wore his signature, extremely intimidating stare.

"Y-yes?" Judging by the look on his face, you weren't sure whether or not you wanted to answer him. Taehyung was up and around the table in a flash. His hands were at your sides in an instant and he somehow managed to wrestle you to the carpet in between your shrieks.

You continued to thrash and giggle while Taehyung's long fingers dug into your sides. "K-Kim Taehyung, you stop it th-this instant!" Between Taehyung's weight on you and your hysterical laughter, you were having a hard time breathing, plus, you felt as though you’d wet yourself soon if he kept it up.

With a few more prods to your soft skin, Taehyung finally stopped, his hands going to either side of your head so you could get your breathing back. Your cheeks were a bright red and you were panting, but there was still a smile on your lips.

"You suck," you whispered.

"But you love me," Taehyung said matter of factly. He smiled down warmly at you, making your heart flutter. You did love him. A lot.

The two of you stayed like that for a few more minutes before Taehyung leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear. You felt your heartbeat pick up because of your proximity and in anticipation as to what he'd say.

"Noona, can we go out and get ice cream now?" You scoffed and pushed his chest to get him from above you.

"That's all you're using me for, isn't it!? To buy you sweet frozen treats!" You exclaimed teasingly.

"No, of course not. I'm also using you for your amazing beef stew which I hope we're having for dinner." He flashed you another wonderful smile. You rolled your eyes and shimmied away from the younger boy.

"Fine. I'll grab my purse then we'll go get ice cream, but after that, we are coming right back and you are finishing your studies! Promise?"

"Yes, I promise!" Taehyung jumped to his feet and saluted you before running to the front door for his shoes. You followed behind him at a normal pace to gather your things.

Not even twenty minutes later, you two were strolling hand in hand in the park, both enjoying your ice cream. It was warm out but not hot enough for either of you to complain. The wind was blowing slightly, occasionally making your skirt billow at your knees. You made sure to savor the times like this that you spent together.

Being with Taehyung when he wasn't busy recording song lyrics or practicing choreography was your favorite. It was the days when he was off and he could relax that you loved. It's not that you weren't supportive, you were just concerned. No matter how much he claimed he had everything under control and that he was fine, he was still only a person. You had seen him practice the same dance moves over and over again until he looked ready to pass out. He had spent days, nearly weeks with you, forgetting to eat or hydrate when his mind was focused on a comeback. He was the most precious person to you and you made sure to never take his time with you for granted.

"Hello!? Y/n!?" You were taken from your reverie by Taehyung's hand waving wildly in your face. You blinked and looked up at him.

"Yes?"

"You were spacing out. I was trying to tell you about the park in Tokyo that the guys and I went to, but you weren't listening," he said before taking a few licks of his ice cream cone.

"I was paying attention!"

Taehyung shook his head quickly. "No, you weren't. When you're thinking about something important, your eyebrows scrunch up and your lips do this really cute pouty thing."

You opened your mouth to object then shut it. It wasn't the first time someone had told you that your facial expressions were like a guide to what you were thinking or feeling. Jungkook made fun of you all of the time because you had the worst poker face in the world and always told you that being a professional liar was most certainly not in your future. You sighed and gripped Taehyung's hand tighter. "It's just that...I'm really happy you have these next few weeks off is all."

That bright, boxy smile you loved so much broke out across Taehyung's face. "I'm happy I do too! I'm so glad I get to spend so much time with my favorite girl." He released your hand only to loop his long arm around your shoulders and pull you closer to his body. You wrapped your arm around his waist and made sure there was barely any space between your bodies. Taehyung leaned down, catching your lips in a short, sweet kiss. You felt your face flush for the second time that day because of Kim Taehyung.

When he pulled away, he winked at you before placing a second kiss on your forehead and resuming the walk. You decided to keep your other thoughts to yourself and let the warm, comfortable silence between the two of you hang in the air for a bit longer. You wanted to enjoy the moment with him and pushed any thoughts of worry to the side.

Once you had your fill of fresh air and your ice cream was long gone, you returned to your apartment. Taehyung immediately made a bee-line to your small kitchen, but you quickly grabbed his wrist and stopped him in his tracks.

"You stop right there! English work first, then I'll start dinner. You just had ice cream anyway. You promised you'd finish when we got back, remember?" Taehyung let out a long sigh before trudging over to the dining room table and plopping in front of his long-forgotten laptop. You smiled and went back to your homework, trying to figure out where you had left off.

"You know, I'm only doing this because I love you," Taehyung mumbled after a few minutes of sulking.

"I love you too, Taehyung." He didn't reply, but you saw the corners of his mouth quirk up into a tiny smile even though he kept his head down. You felt his jean-clad leg rub against yours before they intertwined under the table. You stayed like that as you both worked, letting this simple, seemingly plain gesture say everything else you wanted to say to each other and more.

#bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #kim taehyung x reader #bts fic

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hot-wiings · 4 years

Text

Wanna be tagged in future ‘Confine’ chapters? Leave a comment, ask, or re-blog asking to be added.

Warning: Abuse, borderline stockholm syndrome.

Edited: 4-4-20

You dropped your hands from the silk ties of your dress and lowered your head towards the ground as you saw Kai come up behind you in the mirror. Your body tensed up as you felt his hands graze your waist before he grabbed the silk ties himself.

"I told you I would tie your dress for you, yet you still tried to do it yourself."

"I forgot. I'm sorry."

Kai grabbed the thick silk strings that hung off your dress and started to tie them together behind your back for you. He looped them in an x and pulled tightly, making your head snap up and gasp in pain as the silky linen was strongly pulled against your abdomen.

Tying your dress? This was a cute thing that a lover would do. This was a domestic thing a man would do for a woman, a way of helping her so she wouldn't have to reach. This was no nice loving gesture. This wasn't him cutely helping you, the look Kai gave you through the mirror's reflection said it all.

"Too tight?"

You bit your lip as you nodded your head up and down in response to Kai’s question. Truthfully it hurt to breathe, but you were too scared to tell him that. Scared out of fear that he would laugh and pull tighter. You tried to relieve the pain by sucking your gut in.

Kai finished of the tie by double knotting it. There would be no getting that tie off without tearing the silk tie off the dress entirely. He ran his hands over your waist and hips, smoothing out any wrinkles you might have had. Completely ignoring your obvious pain and discomfort, he grabbed your hand and roughly tugged you towards the door

"Let's go, I have an important meeting. You’re lucky I'm even letting you leave the bedroom."

You balled your palms into fists and dug the balls of your heel into the ground, stopping you from moving far. Irritated with the pain you thought over whether you should ask Kai to retie your dress. This would be your first time leaving the bedroom since he had separated you and Eri from each other. You had been stuck there for so long you lost count of the days. What if he got upset and made you stay there longer?

“We don’t have time to waste, we have guests coming.”

You took a few steps closer towards Kai but the pain as you walked was too heavy and made you grimace.

"W-Will you retie my dress? It hurts."

"If you want it retied, you’ll have to undo that knot and retie it yourself. Let it serve as a lesson. Remember that the next time you forget something I say."

It wasn't a sweet gesture, it was a reminder. A reminder that if you defied him in even the smallest way he would have to teach you a lesson. Everything with Kai was a lesson, but that was your fault. It was always your fault.

Kai was trying to do something nice for you, but you didn't listen. It was your fault that you would be stuck all day in a tight dress. Kai had said he would tie your dress for you, yet you tried to do it yourself anyway, you defied him. It was your fault that Kai's heart had teeth, maybe if you listened more than he could love you better.

You force a small smile on your face as you look up at Kai. If you made loving you easier than maybe he wouldn't have to hurt you as much. This was your fault, not his. Your pain was your fault, not his.

"I'm sorry, let’s go."

"Let’s go...?"

"Let’s go, love."

With a yank on your arm, Kai pulled you down next to him as he took his seat on the black leather couch. You scooted over closer to him knowing he would get mad if you distanced yourself from him. Warily, you watched the man he was meeting with as he took his seat across from you.

The man had light blue hair and red eyes, they instantly reminded you of Eri. The more you observed him you saw how the man’s hair and eyes were the only similarities that tied him to your sweet little Eri. His lips looked incredibly cracked and he had lots of hands placed on his body. He looked dirty or rather unkempt.

The man with light blue hair had an accomplice with him, however, instead of sitting with his friend, the blue-haired man’s friend stood off to the side of the room. Your eyes drifted over to the second man and you observed him just as warily as you were of the first man.

The second man had black hair and scars all over his body. All over. Under his eyes, on his arms, his legs, and they even peeked out from his chest. The black-haired man also had staples attached to his scars, like Frankenstein. For a minute you wondered if it had something to do with his quirk.

The black-haired man looked different than the blue-haired man. Whereas the first man looked dirty, his friend looked clean. The black-haired man didn’t necessarily look like he moisturized, but he wasn't chapped like his friend. Their eyes were very different too, the first man had red eyes like Eri, the black-haired one had icy blue eyes.

His eyes were the most mesmerizing shade of blue. You would have called them pretty if he weren't a villain, and you weren't taken. The man notices you staring at his eyes and he raises his eyebrows at you. You stared into each others’ eyes for a split second before you diverted your eyes to the ground. You were both embarrassed that you got caught looking and scared Kai would notice you did it in the first place.

"I was made to walk in circles underground for thirty minutes. I feel like I've become an ant. What's up with Yakuza's house anyway?"

“We don't know who’s watching or from where, nor do we know what our guests are thinking. A number of underground routes lead here. We've been able to survive until now because of small details like this.”

You weren't sure why Kai was even sitting in a meeting today. Kai had always talked with dislike towards the League of Villains. Kai said the league was unorganized and had poor leadership. The leagues lack of attention to the small details like this was exactly what Kai didn't like about them.

“Anyway, what you said the other day on the phone, you meant it right? That you'd join us along as certain conditions were met.”

Mimic answers the unasked question that you had been wondering. So that was what he wanted the meeting for. He wanted the league’s name for their newfound fame from kidnapping a student.

"We want a joint partnership. If that's what this is, then we'll help."

"So those are the conditions?"

"Don't interpret it in your favor. You guys want the name of the league of villains, we want to increase our strength. Our needs coincide."

The blue-haired man placed his foot on the glass table in front of you. You saw Kai’s fist flex and you were sure he would have beat the man for simply having done it in the first place, but Kai wouldn't do that.

"Put your foot down, it'll get dirty."

"‘Will you put your foot down, please?’ That's what you should be saying, young head. You should really be bowing to me."

If he hadn't wanted to earlier than he must have really wanted to bash the man’s head in now. But Kai was in the middle of making a business deal, he knew better than to lose his cool like that in the middle of a meeting.

Your lips quipped up into a smile at the prospect of Kai getting irritated over such a minor thing and having no choice but to let it go, but the fear of him seeing you’re joy over his stress brought your lips back down.

“First we won't put ourselves under you, we'll move however we want. In other words, a joint partnership. One more thing, that plan you said you had? Tell me what it is, that's a reasonable condition. I want to consider whether or not there’s merit in lending you our name–”

"Who do you think you are punk.”

Kurono places his Glock against the blue-haired man’s head while Mimic had an outburst. They were so quick to resort to violence.

Again, you find your eyes wandering over to the black-haired man’s icy eyes. You were shocked that he hadn't activated his quirk in defense as his friend had a Glock to his head. Of course, you didn't know what his quirk was, so how were you to know if he activated his. Then again, he is a villain. Who are you to say they were friends and not just accomplices.

“Who do you think you are? One of your disposable small fry versus our Hikiishi. Those lives are not worth the same. Plus the worth of one of compress arms. If we don’t get some concessions from you, it won’t be worth it for us.”

“Stay back, Kurono, Mimic. He came all this way with his offer. Let’s hear him out to the end. You weren't finished.”

“Tell me the details of your plan. Well, I have some idea of what it is anyway. It has something to do with this, right?”

The blue-haired man pulled out a tiny red pellet and Kai looked over to you. He dipped his head down to your ear and whispered, his voice full of authority.

“Stay here.”

Mimic and the blue-haired man got up and followed Kurono and Kai into a separate room to talk. Whatever the red pellet was, Kai obviously didn't want you to know about it. You suspected it had something to do with Eri.

The black-haired man walked over to you and sat on the glass table in front of you. You wanted to smile. Kai would just hate the fact that someone sat on his table, and Kai wasn't there to see or do anything about it. You wanted to smile but the presence of the tall villain towering over you prevented your lips from moving up.

Kai wasn’t in the room, so you did something bold. Something that might be normal for somebody else, but would strike fear in your whole body. You looked the man in the eyes.

“Do I have something on my face?”

You would have replied to the man verbally, but the pain from your dress was still there. You were sure if you spoke out loud he would hear the pain in your voice so you did what you were becoming accustomed to, you hid your pain. With a simple shake of your head, you answer the man with no.

“Cause’ you kept staring at me.”

Ignoring the man’s smirk, you looked down as your cheeks heated up. He had caught you observing him and his friend. He had caught you staring at his eyes. You hoped he didn't mention any of this to Kai, but something in the way he looked at you told you that he wasn't no’ snitch.

“Hmm.”

You looked back up at the man only for him to put his hand on your shoulder and his other hand on the side of your waist. He was close to you, so close you could smell the mint on his breath, and the smell of ash on his clothes. As he tugged on your dress slightly you worried that maybe he got the wrong idea with your staring.

The feared that Kai would walk in and catch you both in such a compromising position crept up in your mind. You were about to push the man away when he slid his arm that was on your waist towards your back. As quick as he was there he was gone.

“I don’t wear dresses, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to tie them so tight you can’t breathe.”

Of all people, this villain noticed you were in pain. He noticed you were in pain and fixed it. He fixed it when your own boyfriend was the one who caused it.

For the first time in a long time you didn't care if Kai could walk in and see. You didn’t care about the repercussions or punishments you might receive. You smiled up at the man without the fear that anyone would see. You smiled freely.

“I– I accidentally tied it too tight. Thank you...?”

“Dabi.”

“Thank you, Dabi.”

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bloody-britt26 · 4 years

Note

Could I request Piers falling in love with a single mom reader? Maybe she can have a Drampa who's very protective of her and her son/daughter because it doesn't want them to be hurt by anyone. Drampa love children so I thought it was fitting! Thank you!! ❤

This was so cute and fun to write! I made this into a drabble because I got very inspired for this prompt, and I honestly could have kept going. You guys can let me know if you want more parts to this!

🎸 Piers falling in love with a single mother reader 🎸

“Elias, could you help me unload the cart onto the counter?” You asked your son.

“Okay mummy,” he replied in a sweet tone.

You both set your various food items onto the counter, letting the cashier scan each one of them. You bit your lip nervously as you looked at the price go up with each item. You had bought just enough to make it through the week, now you had to hope that you had made enough money to pay for your groceries.

“I’ll go put the cart back,” Elias said.

You nodded with a smile, he was such a sweet boy, always helping you to the best of his abilities whether you asked or not.

“That’ll be 32,000 Pokémon Dollars, please,” the cashier said.

You nodded, taking your wallet out and rummaging through it. As you counted your money, you felt panic flow through your mind as you noticed that you weren’t going to have enough.

Oh dear, you only had 27,000.

You set the money down on the counter, cringing as the cashier gave you a funny look.

“Ma'am, there’s 5,000 Pokémon Dollars missing,” the cashier said.

‘I know, damn it!’

You forced a nervous laugh. “Sorry, sorry. Let me just- maybe I have a card or coupon…”

Nothing of the sort was found in your wallet. You shook in embarrassment as you felt everyone’s judgmental eyes on you. You pocketed your wallet rather abruptly and opened up your bag.

“H-Hold on… maybe I’ve got something to sell,” you said.

You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find a star piece, a pearl, anything. Of course, you had no valuable items left, except for the golden chain around your neck.

Your heart broke at the thought of parting with it as it was a gift from your grandmother, but you were in a tight spot.

As you were about to unhook the chain from your neck, you felt a light tug at your shirt. Looking down, your son was looking at you with sad eyes.

“But mummy, that necklace is important to you,” he said.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Elias was having none of it. He shook his head in protest. “Don’t get rid of it. It’ll make you sad, and I don’t want to see you sad, mummy.”

“Elias…”

“We can put the cookies back. I don’t need them,” he said.

“But I promised you a treat,” you said in a sad tone.

“It’s okay. You’re more important than cookies,” he said as he hugged your arm.

You didn’t even know how to react. You really were blessed with the sweetest boy. He was so mature for his age, though it was probably your fault. The reality of being alone to take care of your home and child hit you hard, and you couldn’t spoil Elias like other parents could, even if you wanted to do so. You sincerely hoped that you weren’t ruining his childhood.

You felt tears well up as you heard other shoppers in line mutter words of disapproval at you.

“Hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

“What a wreck.”

“That child deserves better.”

“Why did she have a kid if she can’t take care of him properly?”

A hand that was gently put atop your shoulder snapped you out of your sorrow. Looking behind you, was a tall and lanky man, seemingly around your age. He was extremely pale, visible bags underneath his green eyes. He had a punk look, from his outfit to his black and white hairstyle. He seemed to be hunched over slightly. He looked like a wreck, but rather attractive if you were being completely honest. You felt like you had seen him somewhere before. On TV, perhaps?

You shook your head, ready to apologize for taking up so much time, but he quickly shushed.

“You ain’t gon’ need to sell your necklace, or put anythin’ back on the shelves,” he said.

He reached into his jacket’s pocket, taking out 5,000 Pokémon Dollars, putting the money atop the counter.

You blinked, not used to being helped by complete strangers. Still, you felt dirty by taking this man’s money.

“I can’t… I can’t accept this,” you said.

He waved you off. “It’s all good, just take it.”

“I- thank you, sir,” you said as the cashier took the money and bagged your items.

Your son looked up at the man, a small twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you very much, mister.”

A very small, barely noticeable smile found its way onto the man’s face. “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

As the man paid for his very few items, your son picked up one of the grocery bags, while you grabbed the remaining two.

As you were about to walk out, one of the bags was taken out of your arms. It was the same man.

“Here, lemme help with that,” he said.

“No, you’ve done enough. You don’t have to waste your time with me,” you protested.

He ignored your comment. “You’re visibly exhausted.”

Your son chimed in. “She works really, really hard.”

“See? Even your son agrees. Lemme walk you home,” he said.

You bit your lip, truly not used to receiving such kindness from anyone. It felt nice to have someone showing concern over rolling their eyes at your sorry situation.

“I don’t live that far, I’ll be-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut you off. “Oh, right. I ain’t got no manners… name’s Piers.”

“Piers… I’m (name), and this is my son, Elias,” you said, relaxing a little as you started to feel more comfortable.

Then, as if everything clicked in your head, you turned to Piers with a questioning look on your face.

“Wait… you wouldn’t happen to be the Spikemuth gym leader and rockstar, right?” You asked.

Piers had a little smirk on his face. “Yeah, that’d be me, but I ain’t the gym leader no more. My lil’ sis is runnin’ it for me now. I’m a full-time musician now.”

Elias looked at Piers with absolute wonder. “So cool…”

“Oh… I am so out of the loop. Really though, you probably have better things to do than walk me home,” you said, embarrassment lacing your voice.

You suddenly felt self-conscious that a celebrity had helped you pay for your groceries.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m tellin’ you,” he said. “I don’t wanna be nosy or anythin’, but you’re alone, yeah? No boyfriend or husband?”

You nodded, a little embarrassed. You supposed that it was very obvious that you were a single mother.

“You kinda remind me of myself,” he said.

You raised a brow. “How so?”

“Used to be in a similar situation when I was younger, parents were absent an’ I was raisin’ my lil’ sister by myself. Was tough, I remember, an’ nobody ever thought of givin’ a hand to the gutter punk lookin’ guy. Guess I just wanna, I dunno, help out a young woman who’s tryin’ her best, you know?” He explained.

“I- thank you, Piers,” you said with a small blush.

It was nice to talk to someone who could understand you. Most people pointed at you, laughed or disapproved of you. They’d never been in your situation, so they didn’t know just how difficult it could be at times.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said as you came up to your very small house.

You chuckled nervously, that self-conscious feeling resurfacing as you acknowledged the difference between your social status and his. “It’s… I know it’s not very impressive.”

Piers shook his head with a chuckle. “Nah, it looks cozy. You’d be surprised how messy and unimpressive my home is.”

You raised a brow. “Really now?”

“Yeah… Spikemuth really ain’t that impressive, but I love the town anyways.”

“Well, that’s what’s important, huh? Oh, you can drop the bag at my front door, I’ll take it indoors. You too, Elias,” you said as you put your own bag down.

Elias and Piers nodded and did the same. Right afterwards, a friendly growl echoed from your front yard. It was your beloved Drampa, poking his head over the fence.

“Drampy!” Elias exclaimed, running up to the dog-like dragon.

Drampa cooed at your son, nuzzling him affectionately as Elias scratched his nose.

Piers blinked, not expecting you to have a large dragon in your yard. “Is that your Drampa?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah, that’s my big boy. He’s my only pokémon, but he’s been with me since I was a child.”

Your son turned to you. “Mummy, can I play with Drampy after I finish my homework?” He asked.

“Of course, sweetheart!” You said, handing your son the key to your home.

Elias smiled and thanked you. As he unlocked the door, he also grabbed a grocery bag to bring it inside.

When Elias was inside, Piers nodded in approval. “Sweet kid. You’ve been raisin’ him well.”

“Thank you, it means a lot,” you said, genuinely happy at the compliment.

You approached your Drampa, who was wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you. As soon as you were near, he gave you sloppy kisses and nuzzled you as if his life depended on it.

“Drampa!” You said with a giggle.

Piers approached you and Drampa as well, but as soon he did, Drampa’s mood immediately turned sour. Your dragon used his head to push you back, growling at Piers.

Piers chuckled nervously at Drampa’s intimidating change in behaviour. You, on the other hand, were shushing and rubbing Drampa soothingly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. This is Piers… he helped me, he’s nice,” you said.

Drampa glanced at you, a worried look flashing through his eyes. His growling had diminished, but he kept a firm glare on Piers.

“Sorry, Piers. He’s always been very protective of me, but that doubled ever since my ex left me when I got pregnant. He saw me at my worst, and he doesn’t want anyone to hurt me again,” you explained.

Piers had a small smile as he waved you off. “Don’t worry, I get it.” He turned to Drampa. “Protectin’ your loved ones like that, I get you. It’s honourable, you’re a good pokémon.”

Drampa huffed, blowing a bit of his breath in Piers’ direction, making him stumble back a little.

“Woah. I heard Drampa’s breaths were strong… guess they weren’t kiddin’,” he muttered.

You laughed as Drampa had a little smirk on his face. “He’s tough. We used to battle together a lot a few years back. I don’t have much time for that anymore, unfortunately.”

“You’d make a good trainer, I’m sure,” he said.

You felt your cheeks burn slightly. Piers was just handing you so many compliments, and he sounded absolutely genuine with every single one of them.

He cleared his throat, a barely noticeable blush making its way onto his cheeks as he reached into his pockets, pulling out what seemed to be two tickets.

“Here. I’ve got a show this weekend in Spikemuth, an’ I’d like to see you an’ your son there…” he paused, scratching the back of his head nervously, “…it might also be an excuse to get to see you so I can get to know you better, ‘cause you’re cute an’ sweet an’ all.”

You couldn’t help the dorky laugh that escaped you as you gratefully accepted the tickets.

“I’d like that. Thank you for everything, Piers,” you said.

He smiled, blush getting deeper as he shrugged. “It’s no prob. I’ll see you there?”

You nodded with a smile as you waved goodbye to him before he headed in the opposite direction of your home.

Your Drampa gave you a questioning look, as if he was saying, “Are you really considering this?” To which you nodded, giving a reassuring pat to the concerned dragon.

Maybe, you finally had a shot at a better life, after all of the hardships that had been thrown at you.

#pokemon imagines #pokemon headcanons #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon piers x reader #pokemon piers #female reader #reader insert #piers x reader #fluff #fanfic #writing

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iprobablyshipit91 · 4 years

Note

Could you write more Fred Weasley as a husband or father, please? such cute scenarios and your writing is absolutely marvelous🥺

Surprises

Genre: fluffy fluffiness with just a smudge of angst.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2,366

Warnings: light petting

Oh my gosh, thank you so much, you’re so sweet 💕 here’s a husband Fred and almost daddy Fred - I hope this is the kind of thing you’re looking for 😊 thank you so much for requesting! A bit late for valentines I know, but with everything going on in the world it feels necessary! Heavily inspired by OTH s8e15 because I love Naley and always will 💕

Harry Potter Masterlist

You’ve never really been one for surprises, always much happier knowing what’s going to happen so you can prepare appropriately. It started from when you were young, your parents learning early on that surprises generally sent you in to a bit of a tizz. This was usually followed by some strange occurrence that no one could quite explain. Well, until you got a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that is, and then everything suddenly made sense.

After having the biggest surprise of your life that day you’d learnt to adapt a little easier. This came in handy as you very quickly met and befriended a pair of red headed pranksters that regularly threw you for a loop, whether it be a trick wand you were picking up to an impromptu firework show. As the years progressed, it didn’t take long for you to develop a crush on the older twin, his personality a perfect balance to yours. He allowed you to let go and relax a little more and you helped rein him in when he took things too far. The biggest surprise however was when you found out Fred fancied you back. He asked you to the Yule Ball in your sixth year and you had the most perfect night with him. From that moment, the two of you were even more inseparable.

Still, old habits die hard and when there was an opportunity to avoid surprise, you made sure you grabbed it with both hands. For example, you knew that the baby growing in your belly right now was a little boy, no doubt with flaming red hair and a penchant for mischief like his father. You also knew that Fred always hid his presents for you behind the cereal in the pantry, giving you unlimited snooping access to all your gifts that he stashed away.

It was the morning of Valentine’s Day, and Fred had left early to go to work, leaving you with a kiss that made you breathless and a promise he would be back reasonable for you to have a night in together. At eight months pregnant, you really weren’t up for going that far anyway, preferring to stay snuggled up on the sofa in comfortable pyjamas. Once he was through the door and you heard the light pop to signal he’d apparated away, you got up off the sofa, a feat that took much longer than you cared to admit with your ginormous belly, and waddled off to the kitchen.

It took some reaching and precarious balancing on a chair that Fred would have gone mad at you for, but you were now staring wide eyed at the most beautiful pair of ruby earrings you’d ever seen. In a separate box you’d also found a gorgeous golden bracelet and a Honeydukes selection box that while lovely, you knew would make you sick so would have to wait until your little man had made his appearance. You bit your lip as you snapped the earring box closed and carefully put them back behind the cornflakes. He’d really gone all out this year and your heart fluttered at the thought.

The rest of the day trailed by slowly as you waited for Fred to return. The only bit of excitement was a visit from your sister-in-law, Ginny, her own bump much smaller than yours. While she was there, Fred also called in briefly to grab some lunch.

“Couldn’t he have just got something in Diagon Ally?” Ginny asked you incredulously as he zipped back out the door.

“Ah, but that way he wouldn’t be able to check on me,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You just wait. Harry will be the same.”

In truth, Fred’s usual overprotective streak had gone through the roof since you’d found out you were pregnant, with him hardly wanting you to do anything other than sit with your feet up. Most of the time this had got on your nerves. However, considering you hadn’t exactly had the easiest pregnancy in the world, occasionally it had been welcomed. You’d gone off most foods and regularly thrown up what little you had ate for the duration of it. Fred had constantly made sure you kept fed and watered as best he could, which mostly consisted of him plying you with Jaffa Cakes - a muggle snack you had craved and the only food that you seemed to keep down with ease.

Once Ginny made her way home in the mid-afternoon, you spent the rest of the day chilling out, catching up on a book and slowly getting dinner prepared for the evening, wanting to make it as perfect as possible for Fred after all the effort he’d gone to.

“Hey babe,” Fred said happily as he finally strolled back into the living room pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passed, then moving to your belly, stroking it gently and pressing a kiss there too. “And hello to you too my little man.”

He pauses at your belly for a moment, and you can’t help the smile that graces your face at the sight. He’s constantly been talking and touching your rounding belly since you started to show; making you feel more loved than ever.

“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s Day sweetheart,” he says producing a single rose from behind his back. You accept it with a smile as he gives you a proper kiss, one that gets your heart racing. “Right, I’m going to jump in the shower then we can have dinner, yeah?”

You look at him smiling expectantly at you and falter slightly. The rose is beautiful and you don’t want to be ungrateful in the slightest, but your mind goes back to the presents hiding in the pantry.

“Yeah, of course,” you say with a small smile. “It’s nearly ready.”

Fred makes his way upstairs as you swallow past the lump in your throat. There’s something nagging at you, telling you somethings not quite right here and before you know it you’re back in the kitchen, climbing up the chair to look at the shelf again.

The presents are gone.

You feel your heart sink as you remember Fred called home at lunch. He must have took the presents then and given them to Merlin knows who. Bile rises in your throat as tears prick at your eyes and you slam them shut quickly trying to stop them falling but then Fred’s face appears behind your eyelids, smiling. Could he really do this to you? If anything the boy is loyal to a fault. There must be some other explanation. You run your hand through your hair and unbidden thoughts of how tired and irritable you’ve been throughout your pregnancy come to your mind. Had he had enough and found someone else? Was he just staying with you for the baby? Surely not, you could see the love he has for you in his eye, and his kisses were still so full of passion. You run your hand over your swollen tummy as you think back to the presents. He must have given them someone and that someone wasn’t you. Your heart feels like it’s shattering as you consider the possibility that it could just have been a present. But what if it was more? Thoughts swirl around your head back and forth making you dizzy as you try and figure out what’s happening.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

Fred’s voice takes you by surprise and you whip around too fast on the chair, quickly loosing your balance and toppling toward the floor. Your arms wrap themselves protectively around your belly as your brace yourself for the impact but then you feel arms around your shoulders as Fred tries to catch you. He half succeeds, ending up on his knees and softening the blow somewhat as you land on top of him with your legs resting on the chair.

“Godric, are you okay? You crazy woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack! What are you doing up there?” Fred rambles frantically, not giving you chance to answer as you untangle from each other and he stands you up right, hands fussing over you as he looks for injuries. You ignore him though, relief flooding through you as you feel your baby kick your tummy, letting you know he’s okay. You grab Fred’s hand and press it to the spot so he can feel it too and he quickly stops talking.

“We’re okay. We’re both fine,” you breath and he takes a deep shuddering sigh of relief.

“I still think we should get you checked out,” he says seriously and before you know it he’s half carried, half dragged you to the settee to rest and has his head in the fireplace, flooing the maternity unit at St Mungo’s.

As it turns out, the healer you’ve been seeing for your check ups is on duty and she steps out of the fireplace shortly after Fred stands back up and comes to sit next to you, his hands fidgeting nervously. She quickly checks both you and the baby over, her wand making complicated movements over your stomach as she casts the various spells. Once satisfied, she leaves with a warning about being more careful and overdoing things. You barely listen though, mind still preoccupied on the possibility Fred is cheating on you.

“What were you thinking?” Fred asks incredulously once’s she’s disappeared into the flames, standing up to face you. “Why didn’t you just wait for me to get what you needed? Or better yet, use your damn wand? I swear you just about gave me a heart attack!”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say quietly, stubbornly turning away from him as you think why this all even started.

“Doesn’t matter? Merlin, you nearly fell off that chair completely! You could have seriously hurt yourself or the baby!“ Fred says,

Kneeling in front of you and taking your hand. You feel a twinge of guilt at how upset he is but you can feel all the hurt building up inside you ready to burst out.

“Look, I’m sorry alright,” you cry and you can feel your voice faltering but you hold back the tears as you take your hand out of his. “I’m sorry I was up there and I’m sorry that I’ve been tired and moody and stuff.”

“Wait, what?” Fred asks in confusion which just stokes the flames of your anger more.

“You know what, actually I’m not sorry,” you struggle to get up off the sofa, wiggling your bum to the end and pushing yourself up awkwardly. Out of the corner of your eye you see Fred biting back a smile at you and you glare at him. “I’m pregnant, Fred. Pregnant.”

“I know, darling. I did have a hand in it, you know. Well more a...”

“Fred!” You interrupt, having no time for his humour and games. “I found some things in the pantry.”

Fred stares at you for a second and you see the moment it finally clicks into place what is going on.

“You were snooping for presents?” He asks in disbelief, folding his arms. “I can’t believe you’re still doing that after all this time.”

“That’s not the point,” you say angrily. “They’re gone Fred. They were there this morning and now they’ve gone so where are they? Who have you given them to?”

“You weren’t supposed to see them,” Fred says and you see the disappointment in his eyes. He turns on his heel and promptly marches back upstairs in a huff.

“Don’t walk away, Fred,” you yell at him, before following him up the stairs. “I just can’t believe this, I really thought you...”

You stop short as you catch up with him and he throws the door open to your bedroom. Little rose petals are scattered on the floor leading to the bed which is also sprinkled with them. Magical orbs of light float around the room, making it seem to twinkle beautifully. In the centre of the room though you see the box that holds the earrings you loved and a tray full of Jaffa Cakes. You turn back to Fred, eyes shining with tears.

“You love me,” you whisper at him, voice thick with emotion.

“Of course I do,” he rolls his eyes. “You and my little man are my whole world.” He touches your stomach fondly.

“Sorry,” you murmur as he pulls you towards the bed, but he’s smiling at you and so you hope you’re forgiven.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, passing you the box holding the earrings and you open it and admire them once again.

“Thank you, they’re so beautiful.” A few tears leak out the corner of your eyes at the flurry of emotions you’ve felt in the last half hour alone. Fred seems to sense this and sits you down on the bed and taking your hand.

“Now, the bracelet and chocolates were for Angelina, I was saving them for George, although I think next year he should do the hiding,” he says half amused and you smile sheepishly at him. “I could probably steal the bracelet back if you want but I think these are more your cup of tea than the chocolates at the moment?” He gestures towards the Jaffa Cakes and you smile widely, shaking your head.

“No, Freddie. This is perfect. I don’t want or need anything else.”

He smiles at you and you lean in and give him a kiss. He threads his fingers through your hair and you get lost in the sensations for a moment but then Fred pulls back.

“Here,” he says picking up a Jaffa Cake and holding it your lips. “Eat woman. We can kiss and make up later.”

You happily take the cake and eat it greedily, fingers already reaching for another as Fred just laughs at you. You should have known better than thinking your man was cheating on you - he wouldn’t ever do that. You’re going to blame it on the hormones though and make it up to him any way you can.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #daddy fred #fred weasley #hp fanfic #hp imagine

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