#trying to capture the emotions in someone's face is usually easy for me

[stupidlovergirl]

Midnight Lover Lucifer x Reader Dev Notes: HOLY FUCK, I've been trying to turn this one out for awhile! I had a lot of trouble with the pacing, but I think I've got it right. Based on my ideas here of a secret relationship with Lucifer. Not Proofread

There were a lot of things that were hard, like cramming information from another world into my head, and cleaning up all the messes made from others. Yet there was one thing that came easy when you were living in the Devildom. Falling for the First Demon Lord, Eldest of the Seven, Lucifer Morningstar. 

When you first saw Lucifer, you thought he was pretty, and your admiration only grew. He was intimidating, but honestly that only heightened your attraction. The more you learned about him, the more he revealed himself to you, it captured and ensnared you deeper in your affections. 

To the point you had to take action.

You started off simple, taking over days Lucifer was scheduled to cook, diffusing arguments and fights between his brothers. Even helping Mammon raise his grades! You did it with a smile, and when Lucifer thanked you, you always made sure he knew it was no problem you were always happy to help. 

You wiggled your way in slowly but surely. Carrying in cups of coffee and poisoned apples for the Avatar of Pride next, commenting on how some of his paperwork was "simple, you could probably do it for him" when you hung around him and chatted. You slowly took his work off his hands, always with a smile.

It worked, as you gained his favor even more than usual. You got off with lighter punishments, gained favors from him. You both did unspoken acts for each other. You only stopped to ask when Lucifer got you a pretty expensive looking necklace.

"I appreciate the gift, Lucifer, but it must have cost a fortune!" you look down at the piece of jewelry, gold metal work and what looks like rubies. You look up at him, wide eyed

"Keep it as a thank you from me. You do so much to help me, it is the least I could do" he replies coolly, a deep chuckle vibrating his chest, "Sadly, I must leave now, good day" and with that the man who holds your heart walks away.

Ever since then, you wore the necklace with pride, smiling wide when people asked where you got it from. It didn't go unnoticed that Lucifer also enjoyed seeing it on you, eyes lingering on the way it sat near your collarbones, decorating your neck. Honestly, the necklace was probably a catalyst in the events that happened shortly after. 

It was when you were handing him something, you can't quite remember, and your hands brushed against each other. A slight intake of breath and your heart beat pattering a little harder. No one should have caught it, but the ever observant First Born did.

"Are you alright? Is your hand hurt?" He asks, studying your face, his gaze intense on you.

"No? Why do you ask?" you answer, shifting a little from your standing place. He looks at you, and you feel like you're being dissected. Like a prey animal that can feel the imminent attack of a predator. 

"Your heart rate is picking up," he says simply, and your eyes are locked together. You pull in a shaky breath, smiling at him "It's nothing!" 

"Are you nervous?" Lucifer asks, an emotion that you can't quite place, a mixture between worry, curiosity, and something else haunt his eyes.

"No, I'm fine!"

"You're lying" He states, hard and truthful, and it makes you wince slightly.

After a few more awkward seconds, you break eye contact, shuffling a little, your hand reaching up to play with the necklace on your neck.

It's only when you turn back to Lucifer, who had also been silent do you see the look in his eyes. 

Wanting, pinning, and every other form of needing someone is in them. He makes eye contact with you, and it all just clicks as you both go for each other.

So long story short, after a long time of pinning and getting on his good side, you managed to bag Lucifer Morningstar, the hottest demon alive. After a few heated kisses and shared moments. After you guys put an official label on your relationship (you still swoon at the thought of when Lucifer told you he wanted to be your lover, YOURS) he had a few things he wanted to discuss. Primarily how he wanted to keep your relationship private. It made you sad, but it made sense when he explained it. With the other demons who might try and use you as a way to get to him, and with how close you were to his brothers. You accepted it, his reasons made perfect sense to you. So you went on, sharing kisses and staying late into the night with him. It makes you laugh when you think of how he sometimes pulls you into his office under the idea that he was lecturing you. It made you feel a little bad when Levi would give you a salute and Beel sending you off with a pitiful gaze, only to find out that all Lucifer wanted was a few kisses and to cuddle a little.

Through it all, you never stopped helping your darling Lucifer, no matter how much he insisted it was fine, that he could do it, you would help get it done and made sure he was taking care of himself. You and him could feel the pressure building up, you both wanted to show the other off, show others the one you loved. 

You could feel the breaking point on a regular day while attending RAD, when a demon stopped you in the hallways. The conversation was simple, he was just asking for your notes from a class the two of you shared. You gladly handed them over, smiling pleasantly. You were surprised when he continued on talking to you afterwards though

“Thank you! You’re always so nice!” He replies, and you notice his change in expression, as he tries to act as you guess is his version of suave and flirty.

“It fits you, since you're so cute,” he says, smirking. You chuckle awkwardly, and shift on your feet, wanting to escape. You were meant to meet Lucifer soon, and you hated keeping him waiting.

“I’m sorry to end this conversation so short, but I must go” you state, and turn to walk away.

“Wait,” the demon calls, catching your wrist in your hand and pulling you close to him.

“What do you say to you, me, and a romantic dinner and the best table at Ristorante Six?”

“Uhm- Haha I- I-”

“They’ll have to decline” a voice answers from behind you, and you feel comforting hands place themselves on your shoulders. The demon takes a few steps back, almost falling on his ass. You look up and smile, seeing Lucifer standing behind you. Though, he doesn’t nearly look as happy as you do, glaring harshly at the demon who had been trying to ask you out.

You look back to the demon, who looks scared, apologies quickly spilling out his lips, with promises that he’ll return your notes tomorrow in class. You and Lucifer stand in silence as you watch him run away.

“Well,” you say simply, before turning to face Lucifer “that was something” you say, laughing in an attempt to dispel the tension. Lucifer doesn’t nearly look as amused, as he looks down at you. 

“Is that how you feel?” he asks suddenly, and you feel confusion take over

“Huh?”

“When those succubus and other demons flirt with me, is that how you feel?” he looks down at you, gaze fierce as he stares you down.

“Like what? Possessive? Yeah kinda, I mean, I know you never would cheat, but it sucks”

“I’m sorry, I never realized” he places his forehead gently on yours, eyes sliding close. You two stay like that for a moment, heads pressed together in silence, comforted by the mere ability to be so close. It’s rare for Lucifer to be so willing to show affection where you can be easily spotted.

“Next gala,” Lucifer starts, his hands going up to cup your face “We’re gonna match, and everyone's gonna know we belong to each other”

At those words, you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven

The next large event wasn’t long after that, given Diavolo’s love of parties. True to his word, Lucifer made sure the two of you matched. Wearing a black and red formal outfit that matches his demon form. The necklace he gifted you sparkling on your neck, red stones shining like his eyes. You got that later than him, so you weren’t able to walk in together. It wasn’t long before he came and approached you, looking at you adoringly.

“You look amazing” he tells you, smiling at you

“You don’t look so bad yourself” you say, smiling. The two of you approach the rambunctious group of your friends, hearing Luke already declaring that he isn't a dog as he’s picked on. Easily entering the conversation with a light chastising of their teasing, you easily slip into comfortable conversation. Through it all, you notice Lucifer’s hand never leaves your waist. You easily lean against him, and you swear you see Barbatos and Diavolo exchange knowing glances.

Later into the evening, the orchestra starts to play. Before anyone could jump to ask, Lucifer’s hand takes your own.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, eyes soft and full of adoration.

“Of course” you reply, a little breathless. He easily leads you to the dance floor, hands instinctively placing themselves on your waist as another holds your hand. You smile up at him, excitement coursing through your body. You begin falling into the steps with ease, allowing him to guide you across the floor. He spins you, pulls you along with ease, and you follow him naturally, like the many other times you had done so to his records in his office.

“People are looking at us” you say, laughing as you look a little ways away, seeing a pair of succubus engaging in a private conversation behind their hands, but very obviously pointing at you and Lucifer

“Let them, besides, I do not know any creature with any sense of wit who wouldn’t look at you” he replies, pulling you closer to him.

“More like you, Lucifer. Who wouldn’t want an eyeful of the Avatar of Pride” he chuckles at your comment. Lucifer easily pushes you out into a twirl, before pulling you back in.

“I’m sorry I kept us secret for so long. I should have been more caring,” he says, shaking his head. You sigh, gazing up at him lovingly

“It’s alright. It was difficult, but we had our reasons. You have to remember I agreed to it”

“I know, but it’s sad I’ve wasted so much time, when I could have been doing much better things” he says, and a smirk decorates his pretty face.

And you hear the music coming to a close, you smile

“What kind of things?” you ask, a little excited at the comment

As the music ends softly, he pulls you into a dip. Eyes looking down at you, and you can’t help but feel like you're looking into a predator’s eyes once more. Your breath hitches as you look at him, feeling like your entire being is vibrating in excitement and anticipation.

Then he captures your lips, like he has many times before. As he pulls you up from your lowered pose, he never breaks the kiss. You're the first to actually pull away, in need of air. You can't help but revel at the gasps and loud whispers that surround you. That, and the jovial laugh of the demon prince and the groans and whines of his younger brothers. You can’t help but look only at him, the man you love, and get to show that to all the three realms.

[suzteel]

I had so much fun putting together my rec list for last month's Rec Fest that I decided I would try to do a rec list every month or so and continue to spread the love. Unfortunately, due to life, I didn't get to do much reading this month, but I wanted to put a list together for February anyway because I loved what I did read. So here you go! Short and sweet.

CANONICAL VEGASPETE

[The theme of this month seems to be trauma, as all four of these are short but heavy character studies dealing with either Pete's or Vegas's traumatic responses to canonical or post-canonical events.]

Deep Dive by Zaatar

After the safehouse, Pete goes back to underwater restraints training. It hits differently.

This is a Pete-centric fic set between the safehouse and the coup which focuses on how not okay Pete really is as he tries to go back to his usual routine. The characterizations in this are spot on and the sensory details are simply gorgeous. Literally stole my breath.

A Change of Clothes by Lise

Pete's in limbo. Also a mess. Figuratively and literally.

Another Pete-centric fic, this one set in the immediate aftermath of the coup. I've read so many good ones during that period and this is another to add to that pile, but what appealed to me especially with this one was the focus on clothes and blood and metaphor. Also a very quick read if you are looking for something short and good.

Isolation of the Cruelest Kind by ellieellieoxenfree

Frightened of his own anger, Vegas tries to deal on his own.

I won't lie, this one is not an easy read. It viscerally captures the process of spiraling into self-loathing and self-harm as the result of trauma. It's painful. It's also incredibly written and a devastating post-canon Vegas character study. And it has a gentle end. Well worth the read.

Lapping at the Edges by fleet_off (wip)

“You should hit me,” Vegas says. Even blind he knows he’s struck something, because the words hang like blood in the air. They snake back down his throat and settle in his lungs with a wet, heavy rightness that Vegas hasn’t felt all night. It would all be okay, he thinks, if Pete hit him. It wouldn’t remove him from his body; it would center him. And Pete’s fists can remold him better, punish him, free him from the filthy guilt-ridden jumble of what he is. They have before. Vegas lifts his cheek and braces his jaw to take the blow.

In which Vegas comes home drunk and speedruns setting off emotional landmines.

This is a WIP with a final chapter coming, but I feel like the two chapters that already exist stand very well on their own. I really love this one because it tackles how difficult breaking patterns of abuse is and the conflicts that arise at the intersection of the pain of past trauma and the fear of duplicating it. It's messy and painful and overall just really good.

VEGASPETE AUS

[Just one for right now. I have several AUs I'm following and enjoying at the moment, but I think I'll save most of those for a future rec list. But this one had to be mentioned.]

Sanctuary by sparkly_butthole (wip)

“You were just waiting for someone to lay claim to you," he realizes. "Am I just someone, then?” “No.” Pete’s giving him a highly self-satisfied look, which Vegas wants to wipe off his face with kisses and bites until his eyes are hazy and he can’t even talk right. “But you are the one who claimed me.” “Obviously.” Vegas’ hands shake with longing even as he runs fingers through Pete’s hair. Pete looks close to purring; how is it possible to yearn for someone who’s one step away from falling to his knees right in front of you, for you? “Do you regret it?” “Why would I? I belong to you.” Pete says it like it’s an immutable fact, like the tides, like gravity, and maybe it is.

This fic! I'll be the first to admit that soulmates as a trope is not a favorite of mine, but the way this author uses the conceit to hurl them together with all the intensive obsessive codependency developed in canon and then multiplied even further by the soulbond at an earlier part of the story is absolutely brilliant. The writing is gorgeous—fervent and slightly manic to match their intensity—with fantastic characterizations, and I am so weak for secret relationship AUs. This fic only has one chapter thus far, and it's already probably my favorite AU to date. Highly recommend.

Happy reading! ❤

[therewasatale]

What Is Important (part 4)

Part 4 - trick?

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

On Ao3.

You started to wake up slowly from a short sleep. Someone called your name and you felt fingers stroking your face. Maybe you were still dreaming.

"(Y/N), we've arrived. Wake up."

Heisenberg's voice was far too gentle compared to how he usually spoke. You were about to turn around, when you felt the hot throbbing of your wrist. The memories rushed you at the same time. Mother Miranda got to you and she could be after Heisenberg. You sat up with your heart pounding, your eyes searching wildly in all directions, waiting for the pulsating black branches to entwine and capture you again.

"Hey, it's okay, we're safe."

You looked at the man kneeling in front of you. "Karl?"

"Yeah, I'm here, you're safe."

"Where? Oh god, my head." You had to take a few deep breaths.

"Easy, take your time. We're safe."

"Where are we?" Your eyes were slowly getting used to the semi-darkness. The car wasn't rocking anymore.

"In the way back towards the factory." Heisenberg nodded but didn't move.

"Back? Good, that's good, let's get inside. I want to take a bath and sleep for the next three days. And I want to have a weapon on me, from now on."

"(Y/N) ..."

"A gun, I need a gun. I know we've talked about it before, but now, I'm sure."

"(Y/N)."

Finally, his voice reached you. "What is it, my lord?" You glanced at him, head still throbbing.

"Listen," he let out a slow sigh. "You can't come back with me."

You tried to read the emotions from his face, but he didn't look back at you. "What do you mean?"

"It's too dangerous. The Duke can take you away, far from her, and the village. So, Mother Miranda couldn't find you, but you need to go now."

His words reached you, but you didn't want to hear them at all. "Yeah, no. I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes you're going to, you almost died!"

"I'm fine." You said it still in a serious tone but your voice wasn’t that firm anymore. "I'm fine, aren't I? She didn't do anything. I'll be fine."

"You're everything but fine. You're still shaking." He grabbed your still trembling hands.

"It will go away." You tried to stop the shaking by flexing your muscles.

"That's not the point!" He started to lose his patience. "She could have killed you. Or done something even worse! I can't let that happen."

"But-"

"You need to get away from here. From this fucked up place." He squeezed your hands and then let go of one with a nervous sigh. "From me."

"And where should I go? What should I do after?"

He let out a dry dark chuckle. "Anywhere. It's safer everywhere than here, you can get a life, a real one. You're still a human, and you learn quick."

He was right. The part of you that was logical agreed with him, and some others wanted to escape at all costs. You didn’t have to close your eyes to feel the black tentacles around your body again. Or to feel your breath becoming harder. Deep down it was as if your mind still believed you were entangled. Your throat throbbed painfully too. And you won't forget Miranda's words while you live.

You should run, as soon as you could, so far that they might no longer be able to find you.

But that was only part of your being. Your hard-headed and emotional self, disagreed vehemently. The idiot, the insistent part of you, wanted to stay and persevere even though they almost planted something in you. Because you escaped because you've already survived so much of it. And you wanted to be with him. You decided to listen to those thoughts and feelings instead.

"I'm not going anywhere, Heisenberg." You looked into his eyes. And you saw worry, from which anger began to bloom.

"Why do you have to be so ungodly hard-headed?! Can't you see that I'm trying to save you!"

"I'm not listening, because I don't want to leave you."

"Why? Why would you want to stay in a hellish place like this?! Surrounding with a bunch of freaks, who could only kill and hate! You're not like us; you can have a normal life! You don't belong here; you are not indebted to me! You can GO! "

"I want to stay, because I love you, you blind fucking idiot! And I owe you!"

The horse standing in front of the chariot slowly tapped a couple of times with its hooves.

The lighter closed in the Duke's hand.

"I'm not an idiot." Said Heisenberg after a couple of seconds, staring at your blushing face.

“Yeah, I'm not surprised that’s the only part you answer.” You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you.

"I-" He stared at you.

"Thank you for the trip, Duke." Moving past Heisenberg, you walked to the door on the side of the cart.

"Don't mention it, (Y/N). Have a nice evening."

"Safe ride to you, Duke."

Stepping out, you took a deep breath from the cooler air. It only took a few hours, for the night to arrive in and around the village it descended especially quickly. Winter was coming soon, with the first snow arriving in the village in the next few weeks.

You started to walk slowly towards the factory. Your legs still shook a little at times, as your body twitched.

What happened back there still swirled around in your head.

The Duke blow a small puff of smoke. "I think you should go after them, my lord."

Heisenberg gritted his teeth and hurried after you. He could clearly hear the Duke chuckling behind him and then the sound of the horseshoes as the merchant continued on.

"(Y/N)," he called after you.

You stopped, but didn't turn. He stared your back.

"What?"

"You- what did you… is…" It was not the first time he was let down by words. He could be loud, vehement, but mostly just loud. But now, now he was just confused.

"You really fucking suck at this emotion-stuff, don't you?" You glanced back at him over your shoulder, revealing your slightly blushing face.

"You-"

"You already said that."

Heisenberg snorted and pulled his hat across his face. "Shut up! That was a nasty trick."

Now it was your turn to get confused. "Trick?"

"Well, it was, wasn't it?" He asked with an almost sad smile. "A lie. To stun me, so you could leave." It was the only answer he could think of. This day was already messed up enough, HE was messed up enough. You were just stubborn to listen to anyone; not like he was mad at you. It was this hard-headedness that caught his attention when you got into his factory and what he loved about you to this day. This, and much more.

"You really can be a moron." Stepping up to him you waited until he met your eyes. "It wasn't a lie."

"Yeah, sure." He chuckled again with that sadness in his eyes. But he froze as you leaned closer in for a kiss.

It was awkward at first. He didn't have the chance to close his eyes, and you had to get closer.

After a couple of seconds, you pulled away. The blush deepened on your face, and now the red color also spread through Heisenberg’s face.

"Oh."

"Oh?" You rolled your eyes, but you stayed close to him. You prayed that he can’t hear your drumming heartbeat. "I didn't lie."

"But-" his gray eyes looked right into your soul. "Why?"

"Oh, believe me, I had asked that question from myself for months." Finally, you could take a deep breath. "Listen, I don't want to leave you, I know Miranda can be dangerous, but I don't have anywhere to go." Reaching out you gently put your hand on his face. His beard felt rough, like you imagined before.

"And you say I'm the moron." He pulled your closer to himself, and before you could say anything he kissed you.

Grabbing his coat, you snuggled as close as you could and let out a gentle murmur while he held you close.

Neither of you wanted to let go for a long time. Not until when you felt the cold sting of the evening breeze on your arms. You glanced up at him shuddering as you saw the tenderness in his eyes.

"So, you will stay." He slowly started to caress your back. After the panic, terror, anger, hate, he - maybe only for a couple of minutes, or hours - felt happiness.

"Yes, I will stay."

"Because you love me."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but feel your flaming face. I didn’t have to say anything, Heisenberg giggled deeply and still warmly and kissed your face.

"All right. Let's go." He took you into his arms and hushed you before you could say anything. "That bitch hurt you, I'm gonna make sure that you will be all right. And after that, we will figure something out." He began walk towards the factory with you, his arms pulling you closer, keeping you safe. "I won't let her or anyone else lay another finger on you."

Hiding your face into his neck you slowly murmured. "All right, love." You fell asleep, not seeing the lord turning an even deeper red than before. But with even more warmth in his eyes.

[ksolars-kreative-korner]

Silver Shield - Part 1

So I saw a prompt somewhere (don't have the reference anymore) where it was like "villain gives hero a drug that paralyzes them but they're still aware and hands them over to sidekick who just thinks they're unconscious, what does sidekick do? help them? betray them?" so I took that and kinda put my own spin on it. I think it turned out pretty okay and didn't know where to post it so I thought I'd drop it here. Also if I should tag anything else let me know! Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 Part 3

“It’s in here somewhere, I’m sure of it,” Gecko said frantically, weaving their way around the boxes littering the warehouse floor.

“I trust you, Gecko,” Silver Shield reassured. “You know that, right? If you say Viktorai is hiding here, I believe you.” They continued on, and after a brief silence Silver spoke up again. “We should split up. This place is huge, and if we’re looking for a secret entrance it could take us a while. Stay in contact with the comms at all times. Viktorai could be anywhere, so be on your guard. And Gecko?” he said, grasping their shoulder and turning them to face him. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Gecko gave a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of their neck.

“I won’t,” they said. Underneath their embarrassment, Silver could see how nervous they were. That was understandable. If they were right, this might be the end of it, once and for all. He gave a confirming nod and a comforting squeeze to their shoulder.

“I’ll go left, you go right, we’ll meet at the back,” he said before slipping off between the walls of crates.

The boxes had been arranged in odd clusters and patterns, more a maze than easy rows, so it took about two seconds before Silver couldn’t see Gecko anymore. He made his way carefully, quietly, always on the lookout for trouble, whispering into his comm and listening for his sidekick’s response. A staticky, garbled voice hissed inside his ear, punctuated by heavy breaths.

“Silver, I think – I think I found it! It’s over by the – wait, it’s opening… it’s him, it’s Vik—” The comms cut off.

There was a scream from across the room.

Throwing caution out the window, Silver rushed around the crates, trying to find his way towards the sound of his sidekick in danger. He finally made it to a small clearing in the endless walls of boxes, and the sight of the limp form in the middle made his blood run cold.

“Gecko,” he gasped, lunging forwards to drop to their side. “Gecko, are you okay? Please be okay, come on, you can’t do this to me now.” He was so focused on his sidekick that he never heard the soft footsteps coming up behind him. The cold pinprick of the needle in his neck was the only warning he had that someone else was there. Silver spun around and came face to face with Viktorai. He growled and tried to leap up at the villain, but his limbs didn’t respond like they usually did. They felt heavy and awkward, and try as he might Silver couldn’t control them. Soon enough, he was lying on the floor, gasping for breath.

I’m sorry, Gecko, he thought. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I failed.

Viktorai stood above him, laughing at his feeble struggles. “I wouldn’t fight it too much, if I were you,” he said. “The sedative will put you out quickly, no matter what you do. I engineered it myself.” He suddenly grinned. “But of course, I never would have captured you if it weren’t for my loyal assistant Dagger. I suppose you’d know them better by a different name, though, wouldn’t you? What was it you called them? Oh, yes. Gecko.”  

No. No, it couldn’t be. But there they were, standing beside Viktorai, looking down at him with no emotion. Silver tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan. His eyes were closing against his will and he finally gave himself over to the sedative, head lolling to rest on the ground. Gecko worked for Viktorai. He couldn’t believe that, couldn’t believe that his sidekick of three years, three years, would do this. How could he not have seen this coming? And wasn’t he supposed to be unconscious right now? Though Silver couldn’t move, he could still feel the cold floor under him and hear the villains’ voices.

“Good work, Dagger. You did well.”

“Thank you, master.” A moment’s pause.

“I have a gift for you that I think you’ll like.” Silver could hear the smirk in Viktorai’s voice. “You get to kill him.” Another silence.

“Are you sure, master? You’ve waited a long time to get him in your power. You’re willing to let me deal the final blow?”

“Oh, yes. I think you deserve it after spending so much time with the wretch. It must’ve been torture, always having to ‘do the right thing’ and ‘stand up for the good of the people.’ Ugh. Just, do something terrible to him for me, alright? Cut his fingers off or gouge out his eyes or something. Other than that, as long as he’s dead I’m happy. He’ll wake up in about eight hours, but I’ll give you the whole day off so you can do whatever you like to him. Be back at the lab tomorrow evening. The city is almost ours, Dagger, and no one can stop us now! Now, go grab what you need and get him out of here,” Viktorai finished, chuckling a little to himself. Gecko’s – no, Dagger’s – footsteps echoed around the chamber as they left to go get who-knows-what kind of torture tools. Silver felt Viktorai still above him, and suddenly a voice hissed in his ear.

“I know you’re still aware, hero.” He spat the last word out like a curse. “I engineered the serum myself, remember? A mix of muscle relaxants, paralytics, and a few other choice ingredients. Dagger gets the pleasure of killing you, but I get the pleasure of knowing you’ll feel every last bit of pain. I wonder how they’ll go about it. Torture? Drowning? Maybe just a simple bullet to the head. Whatever they do, you’ll know you died at the hands of your most trusted friend. How does that feel?” Viktorai caressed Silver’s cheek with a cold hand. “Goodbye forever, Silver Shield. I’ll be sure to raise a statue in your honour when I rule the city.” He drew his hand back, and Silver was left alone on the floor of the warehouse, helpless, unable to move or make a sound.

[d010811sh]

Pyrite

what i know,

“i love you” ; three life-changing words that can captured someone’s feelings for another person. 

“i love you” ; lovely words filled with emotions and deep affection for loved ones.

“i love you” picture a desire to freeze time or make it disappear, if it means that there will be no time to end when we are with the ones we cherish.

“i love you” also mean the determination to be with someone, despite knowing it won’t be easy. arguments, fights, and cold moments are just some of the challenges you will face. but you will stay nonetheless, because you only see them, you only want them, you have this feeling only for them, and you don't want to do this with anyone else.

“i love you” is an expression of trust and unwavering support. it means being there regardless of circumstances ; the present or whatever the future may hold.

“i love you” is also about acceptance. you let them into your life after all the unfiltered stories they have shared, and you still accept them with an open arms just the way they are, embracing every scar ; visible or hidden.

tragically, i think “i love you” has lost its true meaning.

it’s no longer a heartfelt expression but a mere “assurance” of belonging in a relationship. 

it’s an obligation, believing it’s what couples usually do and say, rather than feeling it genuinely.

as i write this, Pyrite by Frank Ocean plays in the background out of nowhere, as if it wants me to remember something. and it succeeds - it hits some spot so deeply as i try to reflect on everything.

i don’t even know what “i love you” means anymore.

and i don’t think i can even trust anyone when they say that because, if this is how people speak “i love you” now,

then, what is love, really?

[phenomanemone]

oo1

"Well?" Ed stands in the threshold with one hand on the door, his foot tapping impatiently. "This is what you wanted, right?"

In the face of his immediate attitude, I falter. It's never been done this way, but it's in the nature of things to be adaptable and ready to change.

"Yeah," I say, smiling despite my nerves. "Thank you for doing this."

"Yeah, whatever."

Ed moves away from the doorway and disappears down the hall. I hasten to follow, making room for Sage to enter with her camera. Her bright eyes shine with mischief and I feel further apprehensive, but not enough to pull the plug on the mission.

I shut the door and navigate the narrow hall. We find Ed lounging on a plush couch in the living room. His back is straight, but his posture isn't stiff. His legs are spread wide, and his arms are crossed over his chest. His keen, golden gaze is heavy as he watches us sit on an adjacent couch.

"So, how does this go?" he asks us.

Sage and I exchange a look. This kind of processing usually happens internally, and in a far more abstract manner. 

"Do you even know?"

No, we don't. We're the same as Ed; he just has more pre-existing emotional pathways. Ed can be a placeholder, giving structure as a newer part begins to knit together.

We just have to find a more productive means to integrate them into the system. Finding the frayed edges where they first start without access to the lost memories is an incredibly time consuming process.

Moments for the body to feel a level of comfort to safely be trusted to experience the physical effects of exploring that zone are incredibly few and far between.

"Hey," Ed says, reaching out and putting a hand on my knee. "Focus on me."

I try. It's too public a platform to lose control of myself. I'm embarrassed.

"Sorry, you're just too handsome," I joke, and he relaxes.

"Hey, thanks. You're not too bad yourself." Ed replies, and smiles like we have a private joke.

I'm taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude. He'd seemed rather reserved when we had arrived, but now it's as though we're old friends.

"What now?" I ask, and Sage tsks loudly.

"You broke immersion!" she complains with a huff. "We had it!"

"Oh, really?" Ed asks, his eyebrows arched in surprise. "It's really that easy?"

Sage waves a hand. "Eh, yes-and-no. It's complicated. The guys up top wanted to test a theory, and that's why this," she jostles her camera, "is a thing."

"To capture the internal process in an external manner," I nod, following along.

"Can't you do that yourselves?" Ed asks, gesturing between us.

"No," Sage says, annoyed. "In order to effectively utilise the medium, there has to be an active trichotomy. Don't ask me why, that's between my bosses.”

"This is about the meeting we stumbled across on New Years!" I gasp.

"Okay, then why me specifically?" Ed asks, sitting forward with a hand on his chest.

"You're... an anchor." Sage answers, squinting at him through the lens. Only then do I realise she's wearing an earpiece.

"I don't think I like bearing that kind of weight," Edward replies, kicking his booted feet onto the coffee table between us. He doesn't look pleased.

"It's the fastest way to figure out how to tie up those ends." I say to him. Sage's information had filled in some gaps.

Ed scowls, arms across his chest.

"What does... being an "anchor" entail exactly?"

"You just need to keep drawing our focus. We don't know anything from that." I tell him. "Sage can't always bear the weight of a direct message from up top. It usually carries too much raw emotion. If we're focused on you, it gets filtered out."

Ed looks perplexed, but he doesn't look angry.

"Negative emotion leads to a spiral," Sage reveals to him. "When I'm decoding the messages, so to speak, the good emotions don't outweigh the bad. Instead, they're all filtered out. The good and the bad. We need someone to filter this through– someone who can be trusted to take care of the good and the bad."

"Can I come back here sometimes?" Ed asks, almost nervously.

Sage and I exchange a look.

"Of course," I say, bemused. "You won't be doing this alone; it will be split between you and many others. You'll always know when to tag in and out."

"Huh,"

Ed blinks, looking awfully surprised.

"So, that's it?"

We don't know. This was just to test a theory– which had proven to be correct.

We can stay on track long enough to make more significant progress in journalling if we split roles between us.

One of those roles is to be the subject of intense scrutiny, which just made sense to go to a fictive. We're not working with a full story to easily pull apart and reflect on.

That is the missing link needed to drive forward. We agonise when it's just the two of us, spiraling into doubt and panic.

The three of us will continue to experience it going forward, but it will be far less weighty than before.

[olddirtybadfic]

Holiday Half Arse: A Less-Than-Festive Fic (part one of two)

At some point, twelve!me decided to write a fic that took place during several holidays. The holidays barely got referenced (Jessie attacks James and Meowth on Thanksgiving and if you do the math, the kitten was probably conceived around Halloween), but I didn't skimp on the drama.

Content Warning: First-person mixed points-of-view; Pokémon/Human romantic relationship; mpreg; colorful language; absolute character assassination of Jessie (she's super violent towards Meowth and pregnant James); Jessie gets offensive about out-of-wedlock kittens; very shaky understanding of psychological issues; pregnancy is quite rough on James; Officer Jenny is repetitive

-O-o-O-o-O-

(James's point of view)

I fell onto the bed.

I just couldn't seem to close the button on my fly. I tried everything I could to get the button in the hole. I didn't know what was wrong because I wasn't fat. Usually my pants would be falling off.

I finally got the button into the hole. I went over to the mirror and started to brush my hair. I saw that it seemed to have grown quite a bit longer in a short amount of time. I wondered why.

I looked in the mirror at my reflection. Meowth always told me I was beautiful.

Meowth is my boyfriend. Yes, that's right. I'm a human with a Pokémon boyfriend.

Meowth came in the room.

"James?" he said to me.

I didn't really hear him.

"James?" he said again.

"What?" I said.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Breakfast is ready," Meowth said.

At breakfast, I ate more than usual. "Someone was hungry," Jessie said as I washed the dishes.

We spent the entire afternoon trying to make up plans to capture Pikachu. We couldn't really decide which one to use, but we did agree on one thing. No more pitfalls for a while.

I was suddenly exhausted, so I went into the bedroom to take a nap. I woke up two hours later. Meowth was sitting next to me, watching me sleep.

"Jessie tried to cook again. It didn't work. Now we need to know what topping you want on the pizza," Meowth said.

I was about to answer, but then I got the urge to run into the bathroom and vomit.

(Meowth's point of view)

I ran after James. I found him in tears kneeling on the floor, wiping his mouth.

"James, what's wrong?" I asked.

James took a while to calm down. "I….I….I'm…." was all he could get out.

"Take it easy," I said, patting his hair.

James took a breath. "I just keep throwing up. I don't what's wrong with me. What if it's serious?" he said.

I thought for a minute. "You've also been eating more."

James gave me a look.

"And you've been getting tired easily. And you've been pretty emotional, even more than usual."

James's look intensified.

"I'm saying you might be pregnant, Jimmy."

James was shocked. "I-I can't be," he said.

"Here, take this test."

I gave him a pregnancy test to pee on. He did it and a blue plus sign appeared on it.

James looked down at his stomach. "How did I not know?"

"You're probably not that far into it. Also Meowth kittens are a lot smaller than human babies, so you won't show as much," I said. "The kitten is probably already feisty."

James smiled. "I could've told you that part."

(James's point of view)

The good part of the experiment was Meowth and I would have a kitten.

The bad part was I'd be uncomfortable and not that attractive.

I was in bed often, so my hair was so messy, I looked like I had lice. It was just bad luck that my freckles from the sun hadn't gone away. They made my face look even more flushed than it already was. My eyes were getting swollen from sleeping. I also had dark circles under my eyes.

Here's the uncomfortable part. I had to throw up every five seconds in the morning and early afternoon. It felt like torture after I did. I was so weak I couldn't walk back and forth from one room to the other, so I fell asleep in the bathroom a lot. My cravings for food were driving me crazy.

And the kitten was kicking so hard, I felt like birthing it every time it kicked.

Every single thing bothered me.

Once, Jessie said, "That kitten will be out of wedlock." I screamed, "I don't care! That doesn't mean it doesn't deserve to live!"

"Touché," Jessie said.

I ran into the bathroom, crying. I heard Jessie and Meowth talking through the door.

"You didn't mean anything bad, did you?" Meowth was saying.

"If the kitten is born out of wedlock, it's a bastard kitten. That's just how it is," Jessie said.

"How could you say that? Or even want to say that to James? He never said anything about your Pokémon."

"The kitten isn't his Pokémon, Meowth. It's his child."

"So why you gonna dis it like that?"

"Don't talk back, you furball! Someone needs to tell James the truth and if you're too stupid to know it, I'll just have to tell him."

"I'll make sure you don't." Meowth's voice was cold.

"Is that a challenge?!" Jessie yelled. I heard a scream and Meowth crying.

I rushed out of the bathroom. Jessie had shoved Meowth against the wall. Meowth was in tears, wailing.

"Jessie, what are you doing?!" I screamed.

Jessie came over to me and started pushing me.

"This is our business. Don't butt in!" she yelled.

I saw Meowth staring at us, still crying.

I had to stand up to Jessie.

(Meowth's point of view)

Jessie pushed James into the bathroom.

"So, you want to make this your business?" Jessie said in a threatening tone of voice.

The door was open so I could see what was happening.

Jessie slapped James across his face. James started crying.

"Why did you beat up Meowth?!" he yelled.

"That is none of your business!" Jessie hit James again.

"Stop hitting him, bitch!" I screamed.

Jessie yelled, "Stay out of this, ass-cat!" She kicked the door shut.

I ran to the phone and called the mental institution.

"It's an emergency!" I screamed.

"Hey, calm down. What's wrong?" the person on the phone said.

"A maniac beat me up and is beating up my friend. I think she's trying to kill us."

"We'll be right over."

They got to our cabin fast. "Where is she?" one of them said.

"In the bathroom," I said.

The people opened the door. The bathroom was not a pretty sight. It was completely trashed. James was sitting against the wall, crying, while Jessie threatened and cursed at him, waving a wrench. I could see a few bruises on James.

"You interfere with me fucking up Meowth, you'll get fucked up, too, cunt!" she yelled.

"See? She's a psychopathical fuckass!" I screamed.

The people stared at me, looking surprised.

"Sorry. Excuse my language," I said.

They still stared.

"You're a talking Meowth?!" they said.

"Yes, but please arrest her!" I yelled.

The people dragged Jessie out of there in a straitjacket.

"I'll get you both even if it's the last thing I do! One day you bastards will get the ultimate fuck-up!" Jessie screamed.

"Is everything okay?" Officer Jenny asked.

I didn't hear because I was trying to get James out of the bathroom.

"James, she's gone. Please come out of there," I said.

"Is everything okay?" Officer Jenny asked again.

"I can't get James out of the bathroom. I just want to know if he knows everything is all right," I said.

Officer Jenny knocked on the door. "You can come out now."

James didn't come out. I could hear him sobbing and sniffling.

"Please come out, James. The mental institution got her and took her away. We're safe now," I said.

James opened the door a crack and peered out. He came out, picked me up, and hugged me.

"Attaboy," one of the people said.

"Is everything all right?" Officer Jenny asked.

"Everything is fine now," James said.

Later that evening at dinner, it was weird when I was setting the table and I only needed two place mats, two plates, two cups, two napkins, and two sets of silverware.

"What are we having for dinner?" I asked.

"Tuna," James said. James had been craving tuna all day.

When we sat down for dinner, James took out a bottle of chocolate sauce.

"What are you gonna do with that?" I asked.

"I'm going to put it on my portion," James said. I asked him to pass the bottle so I could try it, too.

After a while, James said, "It tastes okay, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "It's perfect. Right, Jess—oops, I forgot. Jessie isn't here."

"I'm going to miss her even if she did abuse me." James had tears in his eyes.

"At least our kitten is safe," I said.

"Yeah. That's one thing to be thankful for," James said.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: Officer Jenny is ineffective in domestic abuse cases (at least in whatever AU this takes place in).

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

orchid, sage, ivy 💕 (unless it's too late)

love and hugs xx

It’s never too late, especially for you 😘

Orchid: what’s a song you consider to be perfect

Oh this is difficult! I have so many opinions when it comes to music and songs and me and my dad often have debates on whether a song is good or not! Songs and music is so subjective so I would say every song is perfect for what the artist set out to complete! Personally I love a lyrically strong song, one that takes you on a story and uses smart turn of phrases and metaphors to tell the story, and is a lyrically good song has great music behind it then it just makes my soul leave my body!

I’d say wildest dreams is a great example of a ‘perfect song’ it has beautiful lyrics, strong musical backing (especially the heartbeat), it can be played beautifully on strings and the music video perfectly captures the feeling of the song. I can listen to it, close my eyes and just feel like I’m standing at the top of a cliff a long billowing dress behind me 😍

Sage: what’s a medium of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc) is the most touching to you? Why do you think that?

I’ve already touched on this in this ask but i’ll go a little deeper and say I really connect with musical theatre! Mostly for the same reason as to what I think a perfect song is! Every musical is lyrical strong because it’s telling a story or a feeling, and it always has a very strong musical backing! I mean First Burn from Hamilton is just urgh! Hits you right in the heart! And I do wish they’d used that version!

Ivy: what’s your tells for your emotions and moods? How can someone tell if you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

I do try to hide a lot of my emotions but sometimes I do pull a face that I didn’t mean to pull 😂 just last night my mate took a photo of me while a guy was shouting in my ear at a club and my facial expression was pure ‘unimpressed and i wanna get back to dancing’

Generally if I’m feeling sad, angry or tired I just kinda shut off, and stop interacting, but it’s not always easy for people tell whether im sad or angry or just tired 😂

One super clear tell of mine though is when my anxiety is starting to rise because i’ll fiddle and won’t be able to stay still at all! Usually I’m fiddling with my earrings or my necklace because the repetitive nature is naturally soothing

Send me some plant asks!

[rainbowcolored7]

Yok in the same color palette as the piece he did of Dan ❤️

I've been wanting to draw Yok/First for a while now, but KP brainrot... ya know. Anywho, I don't feel like I quite captured the emotions he had on his face here, but I'm happy with it regardless.

Reblogs welcome, do not repost. HQ version on my deviantart here: https://www.deviantart.com/rainbowcolored77/art/The-Eye-927233720

[staryuee]

hello !! i saw that your requests are open and if they're not then I'm really really sorry but if you don't mind could I request xiao, venti, kazuha and scaramouche with a s/o who reminds them they love them every day and tells them stuff like "you're doing great, I'm so so proud of you" "you're the most amazing person I met and my heart belongs to you and you only", and they're also very clingy as in they like to hold hands a lot, give kisses and stuff

you can skip this if you want to, but I do hope you have a wonderful day/night <33

overly affectionate s/o — genshin hcs ⸝⸝

— [warnings]. scaramouche not proofread </3

— characters . . . xiao , venti , kazuha , scaramouche

— notes . . . i had no idea what to put as the title bc i forgot the word i was trying to write </3 hope you like it ! ♪( ´▽｀)

魈 XIAO

— oh god, are you TRYING to kill this poor yaksha ???

— i hc that his love language (giving and receiving) is physical touch so despite the scowl that was static on his face, he couldn’t be more happier that someone like you had no problem with being all touchy

— this poor dude NEEEDSS this sort of attention from someone , the fact you’re able to so willingly and nonchalantly convey your feelings to him does make him a bit emotional at times

“heyyy xiao xiao” you slumped over his shoulder with a playful grin, he replied with a simple “hm?”

“You are so easy to love.”

“Is that a good or bad thing..?” he tilted his head to the side for a moment.

“I wouldn’t be telling you unless it was good because I love you sosososooooo much !” and then began the onslaught of kisses and heartwarming laughter with xiao’s arms carefully hugging your torso and your hands on his cheeks.

— whenever you initiate any form of physical contact first his heart does a lil ₊˚୨`˖˚˳⊹

— despite how much he loves you and your affections he will never outright admit it, although he’s rather obvious that he enjoys it with the way his cheeks bloom in a cute pink

— whenever you randomly cling onto him or start spewing your heartfelt love confessions he does truly feel like his years of karmic debt are being washed away as if it was just a mere grain of sand, you’re one of or more so the only person who makes him feel so loved and happy

— on his good days he tries his absolute hardest to reciprocate the same energy, it’ll take some time but for you he would do anything

温蒂 VENTI

— the people of mondstadt both utterly hate and love you guys, no one truly knows how to feel because you’re both so incredibly endearing yet it gets very tiring hearing the same sickly sweet confessions you throw at each other

— mondstadters aren’t over exaggerating either, before venti goes off to play a song on his lyre for his audience, you two spend what feels like hours just holding each other and being reluctant to let go and go off to your own duties

— not that you guys care :p (obviously) venti believes that if people love each other , what’s really the harm in showing off that love ?

— your clingy behaviour is more than welcomed , he absolutely cherishes it

— venti loves being randomly clingy with people he cares about, it’s just natural for him at this point, and the fact you do it as well sometimes even more so than him, he’s ecstatic <33

— he has those days where he’s not his usual ‘venti’ self, not even the melodies of his lyre or the small nudges from dvalin could get him out of his mood , days where he feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders are the days he appreciates your kind words to an even bigger extent

venti made a small ‘mpf’ noise after falling down onto your lap his arms near the side of his head. the night was slowly eating the sun away to capture mondstadt in darkness, therefore the winds were slightly harsher. you lifted venti up so his head was resting on your chest, he hugged your waist as you played with his hair.

“i could spend the rest of the evening explaining to you in detail how much you mean to me and how happy i am to have met you, but” he looked up at you with a hint of blush, “i think there’s a better way to convey me love for you.” you dipped your head down and began pressing kisses all over his face, each of them holding fruitful feelings.

before he even knew it, he was beaming gleefully his sadness long forgotten. “i love you, windblume.”

“well i love you even more.”

— he hopes you find him as much as of a safe place as you are to him

枫原方吨 KAZUHA

— kazuha officially keeps a tally on how many compliments you dish out to him daily, the highest was around 33 on his birthday, and to say the least it was an.. interesting day

— now hear me out, i feel like kazuha’s love language would also be physical touch just because he loves the reassurance that you’re there with him, it just makes him all warm inside

— he’s not extremely talkative, he doesn’t really vocalise his love for you he prefers writing it down in the form of a haiku or with a hug and a peck on the cheek but you definitely do enough of the talking in the relationship to make up for the both of you

— after he gets comfortable in your relationship you can rest assured that your demand for his hugs and kisses will not go unfulfilled!

— kazuha appreciates it, not only the words you say to him but just you in general, you’re so positive that sometimes he wonders if the archons blessed him because there’s no way someone as sweet and kindhearted as you exists

— you’re the exact type of person he’s been needing, someone who holds him no matter the circumstance and someone who reminds him of his worth without wanting anything in return

kazuha was writing a simple letter to his old friends in inazuma, asking about their well-being before you decided to plop yourself right next to him with that smile he adored. you leaned your head on his shoulder, “how are you so pretty? it’s unfair because i want to cuddle with you aaaallll day long and give you so many hugs since you’re just so amazing and do you know much i love you-“

he laughed before placing a chaste kiss on your lips, “yes my love, i’m more than aware of your love for me.”

— even when he’s out on his voyages, traveling across the seven nations of teyvat, his thoughts never fail to linger to the thought of you running up to entrap him in a bone crushing hug

国崩 SCARAMOUCHE

— you two are the literal embodiment of this:

Scara: “I absolutely despise physical touch, if I find that any of you even tugged at my clothes by accident or not I sha-“

You: “Hi.”

Scara: “So that was a joke-“

— whenever you squish his face with both you hands and begin kissing him that scowl on his face is a big cop out for the amount of love he feels for you, the butterflies in his stomach try to communicate to him but he refuses to acknowledge it

— it’s rather endearing to see his cheeks puff up when you retaliate his words (that genuinely hold no malice towards you) with something sweet like “ok, but i love and adore you”

— he will die before allowing you to do this in front of his subordinates, has it stopped you from trying? nope!

— one time you did it in front of childe and honestly scaramouche was at his limit at that point, he ofc didn’t lash out at you but the eleventh fatui harbinger

“you’re doing so well,” you gave him a peck on the cheek, “i love you sooo much, hehe, did you know that?” scaramouche crossed his arms and averted his gaze towards the floor, not sparing you a single glance out of pure embarrassment.

his ‘frenemy’ shall we say, was finding superb amusement out of the fact the well-feared balladeer was melting like ice cream left out in natlan over the fact his precious lover is cooing at him like some sort of lost child (childe’s words not mine).

and thus, the yelling and cursing at the red haired began, childe saw the rage in scara’s eyes and decided it was his time to run, your boyfriend was certainly not letting him get away that easily. But before he left off to chase and beat the shit out of childe, he gave you a quick peck on your lips.

— perhaps you fuel his ego a little bit too much with your praises and endless compliments, but despite that, scaramouche feels a deep level of comfort whenever you reassure him of his skills or just himself in general

©IHEARTGANYU do not copy, steal or repost <3

[sarasapen]

In Sickness and In Health

Another addition to the Little One series, which, I admit, has been a long time coming; Obi's oh moment.

AN: In my mind, it would take an extreme situation with high concentrations of emotions for Obi-Wan to even come close to admitting the extent of his feelings for someone he shouldn’t be having feelings for. There’s some angst, because, well, it’s me.

“What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?”

“Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.

-James Luceno, Labyrinth of Evil

Jedi are keepers of the peace, child, your Master had said to you. He said it once, really, there was hardly ever a need for him to chastise you on jumping head first into combat. You preferred to talk first, swing later, much like him.

Unlike him, however you didn’t enjoy the fight, the thrill of swinging your saber around. Not when it so often came at the cost of blood, no matter whose blood it may be. You were, at heart, a healer. Not a warrior.

Keepers of the makerforsaken peace, you think sarcastically, struggling in the too tight binds over your hands, keeping your discomfort masked under neutrality when your Master’s gaze flickers to you.

The mission must come first.

It’s words he’s repeated multiple times, to both you and Anakin over the years. A reminder that no matter what, no matter what awful thing is happening, the mission must come first. For the greater good, to help more people. You couldn’t risk the lives of dozens or hundreds or thousands of people, just for one.

We’ll go in together. We’ll take him together. Whatever it is, we’ll do it together.

Together.

Maker, why did none of his Padawans ever listen to him?

It was supposed to be easy. A simple in and out, fake a capture and flip it around so that the capturers were now the captured. It was supposed to be easy.

But some stupid droid’s blaster went off- no surprise there, really- causing a chain reaction of panic. In the chaos, you had to dart the other direction, and now he’s fighting off adversaries one way while you’re being dragged the other. He turns his head to look back at you, and he sees a needle being pushed into the side of your arm, and with worried eyes, he watches you go limp.

The mission must come first.

It’s what he tells himself when he breaks free an hour later, when he takes the Prince of this Separatist-aligned planet hostage in order to get him to lift some sort of ban or the other- the details are getting fuzzy now.

You stumble through the doors minutes later, a small cut on your forehead and a dark bruise beginning to form over the expanse of your cheekbone. You’re disgruntled, but altogether fine. The medic-droid scans indicate the same thing, that other than a few superficial cuts and scrapes, you're in tiptop shape.

It’s why neither you nor Obi-Wan think to get your blood work done.

——

“You don’t look so good,” Anakin observes, coming to a halt in front of you. You manage a glare, wincing at the way it strains against the recovering muscles of your face. Anakin notices, and flinches sympathetically with you.

“Really? I thought the bruise brought out my eyes,” You jibe, framing the injured side of your face with your hand. His lips quirk into a little smile, but it dims slightly as he looks over you again.

“Not that. Although that does look pretty badass,” He teases, before his tone evens out into something serious. “You just look… sick.”

You shrug, ignoring his comment. Come to think of it, the bridge had been feeling awfully stuffy and warm. And it’s usually freezing. It’s why you had wandered in here in the first place, to try to break the sweat that had started to gather on your face.

“Post-mission jitters, I guess,” You hum, swiping a hand over your forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat, trying to do it casually so Anakin doesn’t notice. He notices.

“Drink some water. It’ll help,” He offers with a wave goodbye, and you swing your arm in the air animatedly to prove that you were, in fact, fine. You swallow, your throat itchy and dry, and your hand drops to wrap around your throat. Water… water does sound very good right now.

So of you pop, wandering around aimlessly to try and find some water. Exit the meeting room, straight ahead at the junction, turn left, turn right, turn…

Straight. Left, left, into the lift, right, straight, straight, straight, nah, straight was boring now, how about left-?

You reach the cockpit, frowning as you turn into the little room. What did you need? The pilot turns to you and says something, and you shrug your shoulders, giving her a wave and wandering back out. Wave. Waves. Ocean. Water.

Oh, water sounded nice.

Maybe you could get some.

——

You’re… off.

Jittery. Flighty. Wide-eyed and pale and off. The huge bruise on your face doesn’t help the image of you. He wonders why you haven’t applied any bacta to it yet.

“Little one?” Obi-Wan calls tentatively, lowering the tablet in his hand.

“Hm?” You snap your head towards him, tucking your hands under your thighs and bouncing your legs.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah-yeah, why you asking?” He thinks your words slur slightly, but it could just be his imagination.

“Your signature is…warped,” He describes, his perfect brows furrowing together over his perfect blue eyes on his perfect face-

“‘S probably lingering adrenaline from-from the mission earlier,” You brush off, turning your wide eyes to survey the empty room. Your response confirmed it, you were not okay. Obi-Wan leans forward, trying to smooth over his sudden flare-up of worry.

“Little one, the mission was two days ago,” He reminds, voice low and warm and smooth and it felt nice to listen to. It was like- it was like tea. Yeah. Like the tea he made on cold days and it would be all nice and smooth and it would run down your throat deliciously and make you warm inside out. You liked listening to him talk. You could listen to him talk for hours. Anakin always complained that Obi-Wan had lectured him a lot more than he ever did you. You’d trade places willingly, if it meant that you could hear him talk to you more.

“Padawan, are you listening to me?” Your Master calls again, his tone hinting that he had been saying things that you weren’t paying attention to. Whoops. You duck your head, ashamed for being called out and even more ashamed for disappointing him. He didn’t sound disappointed though, just worried.

“Mhm,” You get out, eyes fixated on a stray thread on his sleeve, and you reach out to tug at it.

“Padawan,” He calls, voice overly concerned. The hand that's attached to the arm that’s inside the sleeve that’s attached to the thread you’re toying with raises to press against your cheek. With you so close now, Obi-Wan notices how glazed your eyes are.

“When did you last sleep?” His thumb brushes across your dewy skin, and he watches you blink slowly, taking far longer than what should’ve been needed to process the question. If you hadn’t known the mission was days ago, Obi-Wan wondered if you had been aware of how much time had passed, and if you had been taking care of yourself.

Your lips part as if you’re going to answer, but then they close, and you dart your eyes to the loose thread again, focus drawing back onto it. Watching your fingers grasp it gently, Obi-Wan swallows, calling your name softly as he did when you were a child to get your attention once again.

“Have you eaten? Since the mission, little one, have you had anything to eat?” He prompts you, trying to keep his voice soothing as he attempts to hold your attention, despite how frightening your behaviour was. It was new, this fight for your focus, and it’s only then that he realises quite how much he’s held your attention over the years.

“M not hungry,” You insist a little petulantly, almost pouting as you lean into his hand. At the implication that you hadn’t eaten, Obi-Wan’s heart drops into his stomach.

“Let’s get you something to eat?”

“Can- can I-” You start your request, trailing off halfway, eyes drooping shut slightly.

“Can you what, little one?” Obi-Wan prompts patiently, his other hand reaching forward to brush against yours.

“Tired,” Sighing, you lean further against Obi-Wan, who shifts to almost support your entire weight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then, hm? You can eat something as soon as you wake up,” He suggests, steering you towards your bunk. You mumble something non-committedly, letting him manoeuvre you into your bunk when it becomes apparent you can barely lift a limb. Or- you don’t really let him, it’s not like you could’ve stopped him.

So Obi-Wan tucks you into bed, smoothing the blanket over you and petting your hair until you fall asleep, grip on his sleeve loosening. He tries not to overthink the fact that your forehead is warm. He’s been sick plenty of times after a particularly stressful mission, as has Anakin. Some rest would quickly get you back on your feet.

And yet still… he felt that he was missing something glaringly obvious.

——

It isn’t often that cruiser ships were attacked mid-flight. It was even rarer that a cruiser ship containing Jedi would be invaded.

But once separatist droids began filling in, it became apparent to Obi-Wan that this invasion was not a rogue pirating expedition that chanced upon them. No, this was deliberate.

There are blaster shots fired and droids and men both fall. The initial jolt of the attack had rocked the ship and startled you awake, and Obi-Wan knows you’re behind him, fighting. He hasn’t seen you, he doesn’t know if you truly are alright, but he doesn’t have time to worry about that right now.

The mission comes first.

All Obi-Wan can do is to trust in you, to trust in his teachings. The latter of which was much more difficult to achieve; he’d always think back on events- be it regarding you or Anakin- and think that he could have dealt with issues better, taught you better, cared for you better. But he was a Jedi Knight, his life having been charted out amongst the stars eons before his grandparents’ grandparents even existed. His life, and subsequently yours, meant that he had to trust you now, had to trust you would hold your own. It was strange…

Other Masters had mentioned that it got a little easier over time, the overwhelming amount of worry one had for their Padawan. Obi-Wan was no fool, however, he was not quite so naive as to think that other Masters cared for their Padawans as he did his. For all his upholdings of the Jedi Code, Obi-Wan might have loved quietly, but oh how strongly did that love burn. He had seen, with his own eyes, other Masters and their Padawans; Luminara and Barris, Windu and Billaba, even his relationship with his own Master…

It didn’t matter now. Not now. Right now, all Obi-Wan can do is push the fight back, and trust in the force.

He feels it as soon as it happens. The steady thrum of all the crew around him, of the life forces and the signatures he’s learnt to recognise as yours and Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s.

There’s a blast behind him. Far behind him. He manages to not lose his footing when he feels the dip in the Force that means a collective loss of life, and it dips dips dips just a little more as the seconds tick by, as more lives slip away in the seconds that follow the explosion. He tries to ignore the pang in his chest. His ears are ringing. Something’s not right.

And then suddenly the thrumming goes silent. It doesn’t really, what with Anakin and other crew members around him, but he feels it… he feels it… It’s like there are alarms blaring right next to his ears but at the same time his head has been plunged underwater. He reaches out, praying, hoping, begging-

The mission comes first.

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw so hard it almost cracks his teeth, and he slices three droids in half with a single blow. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t let himself catch a glimpse of what he knows will be his undoing. He has to shut his eyes when the fight necessitates his body turns, he has to rely on instinct and not the force, not now, he can’t trust the force now, even though, logically, he knows it is only due to the force that he’s still able to fight so well.

The mission comes first, Obi-Wan thinks, and for a moment he thinks of Qui-Gon, of that awful day on Naboo, and then he thinks of your lovely smile, with your sweet, bright eyes, gazing up at him with cheeks flushed from the aftermath of laughter that he inspired. It was the smile that was amongst his last thoughts of the day as he fell asleep, the same smile that he would think about the moment he became conscious. Obi-Wan has spent years memorising the details of your face, but now he’s stricken with the knowledge that his memory would never hold a candle to seeing you in person. The sounds of lightsabers can be heard behind him, and Obi-Wan aches to turn around and see you smile at him like that again.

When all that’s left in front of him is the crackling of severed wires and metal limbs, Obi-Wan allows himself to turn his head just slightly.

A little ways down the corridor, really not all that far away, Anakin finishes dealing a series of blows that leave a similar pile of metal junk on the floor. Irritated, he huffs a strand of hair out of his face, rolling his shoulders and turning to see Obi-Wan drop to his knees. Not even a second later he’s literally sent stumbling from the wave of absolute grief that spirals out from his friend.

It hurts.

Maker, it hurts.

Anakin grits his teeth and blinks away the onslaught of tears in his eyes, struggling past the pain as he does his best to have his brother’s back. A few steps ahead of him, Ahsoka is pressing a fist to her chest, a tortured expression on her face as she tries to straighten. Even the force insensitive beings seem a little winded.

He’s never seen Obi-Wan like this, not ever. It terrifies him. Anakin turns his head to look for you, wondering if you felt the sheer force of it as well, but he freezes as he sees the body Obi-Wan is now kneeling in front of.

The grief reels back in, and Anakin is running to you, dropping onto his knees and using trembling hands to press down on nonexistent wounds as if it would restart your heart.

He feels the dip, dip, dip, of Obi-Wan doing compressions but he knows. You’re pale, cold, chest still and mouth parted. Anakin may be a dreamer, but he’s not delusional. At least he can’t be, not right now.

“Obi-Wan,” He hears his own voice, and it’s foreign to him. He distantly realises the fight is over, he doesn’t hear the sound of blaster fire or lightsabers swinging through the air, he sees the crew that had circled around them to cover them- Maker, how long had they been doing this?

“Obi-Wan,” He says, louder this time, leaning forward and putting a hand on the older man’s arm. Anakin is shoved back with so much force it leaves him stunned for a second.

“Please,” He hears Obi-Wan mutter, and Anakin takes a second to truly look. Tears are falling freely, Obi-Wan’s teeth gritted as he doesn’t stop in compressions. “Please,” Obi-Wan is begging with every push, breathless and exhausted, beginning to falter but not daring to stop.

“Please, my love, please,” and Anakin gathers all the strength he can muster, shoving Obi-Wan off you. He takes over, grunting as he presses presses presses presses, refusing to acknowledge that it’s been minutes and refusing to internalise the way Obi-Wan is cradling your head and stroking your cheek and murmuring how much he adores you.

For Obi-Wan, Anakin can be delusional for a bit.

Red starts to bleed into his vision, prickling away and igniting his heart with such rage as he continues pushing. Obi-Wan is sobbing, pleading with whatever gods above to bring you back. Distantly Anakin can hear the desperate yelling of Ahsoka, orders to call for help and get medical aid.

This isn’t fair he thinks, continuing to push at the long since lifeless body on the ground. This isn’t fucking fair.

Not to her. Not to Obi-Wan who’s been wrapped around her finger from day 0. Not to him, not to Padmé, not to the entire fucking Jedi Order.

Because Anakin has known, perhaps longer even than she or Obi-Wan knew. He knew that Obi-Wan loved her, and he can feel the devastation that this is the first time he’s saying it to her. That she doesn’t even hear it.

“My darling,” Obi-Wan takes her hand in his, pressing his lips to the cold skin. “My darling, please, just wake up.”

——

A lot of things can happen in an hour.

The golden hour, medics call it. The precious 3600 seconds that take place after an injury is inflicted or a symptom starts to show.

A lot of things can happen in an hour.

Reinforcements from the cruiser a parsec away had arrived seconds after you fell, and had whisked you away with them within five minutes. Obi-Wan had to be pulled off you, Anakin accompanying him and yelling at anyone and everyone that so much as looked at you wrong.

They restart your heart.

They shove tubes and wires into your arms and put an oxygen mask over your face. They try to do an examination with the little technology on board, but it’s obvious that major treatment can only be achieved on Coruscant. And it’s forty-five minutes away. Give or take.

You’ll live, the doctors say.

Poison, that targeted the neurological aspects of a sentient being. In other words, it attacked your ability to decision-make, to rationalise, to understand the extent at which you were neglecting your own body.

Dehydration was why you were weak. The explosion was just the catalyst to your inevitable collapse. It’s a good thing, the doctors say, that the explosion knocked you out and that they were able to identify the poison and administer medication and keep you alive.

Alive… but to what extent?

Neurological aspects.

The doctors weren’t sure if you’d have full physical or mental function when you woke up. “As unfortunate death is, learn to let go, we must,” Master Yoda’s voice comes from beside Obi-Wan.

The latter of the two is slumped against a wall, tired circles under his eyes and unwashed hair tousled from where he had been pulling at it. It’s day two. You haven’t woken up. Obi-Wan hasn’t ventured further from your side than the corridor outside your room. The tubes and wires and beeping machines connected to you make him a bit sick. Maybe… he thinks, curling his fingers into fists before releasing them, repeating the motions over and over. Maybe if I had gone to her sooner-

“If you’re implying that I should’ve let my Padawan die-“

“Misunderstand me, you do,” Yoda shakes his head. “Let her die, you should not. Let her go, you should.”

“I am not going to abandon her,” Obi-Wan responds, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The absolute last thing he needed right now was a lecture from Master Yoda about how else he had been failing.

“Ask yourself, you have to, if letting your Padawans go you are able, hm.”

Yoda disappears.

Obi-Wan sighs, rakes his fingers over his beard. Anakin finally convinces him to take a hot shower. Ahsoka comes to sit next to him in silence, picking at her nails. Padmé comes with a blanket and homemade food that Obi-Wan barely takes two bites of.

I’ve never seen him like this, Anakin says.

He was like this after your battle with Dooku on Geonosis, Padmé responds, too worried to notice Anakin’s stunned expression.

When you wake up becomes if you wake up, and Obi-Wan knows he has to get up and do something else.

Attachments are forbidden, Obi-Wan reminds himself when day three rolls around, and more Jedi linger in the med-bay hallway.

Attachments are forbidden, Obi-Wan thinks, when he turns the corner and notices Madam Jocasta smoothing the blanket over your form the next day. One of your creche mates volunteers in the med-bay, spending more time walking past your room than they do actually being useful. He pretends not to notice when the new flowers on your bedside table are distinctly Mandalorian as he listens to Padmé reading a new book to you. Two weeks in, Obi-Wan passes Caleb Dume at the elevator, and later that day he has to remind himself attachments are forbidden when he overhears Billaba say something about your condition to Windu. He can’t even bring himself to think it when Yoda pauses in the hallway outside the medbay once a day, just for a second or two, and carries on.

If attachments were forbidden, why was Obi-Wan so sure he wasn’t the only one suffering from your absence?

Obi-Wan startles awake in the middle of the night, three weeks later, and just like he had known three weeks ago, he knows now. This time, however, no being, no mission, no Code was going to stop him from being by your side. He doesn’t care what implications there will be about his bond with you that he knew so immediately. He doesn’t care enough to make himself presentable, not when he couldn’t give a damn of anyone’s eyes on him if they weren’t yours.

What good would it be? Being someone to the Jedi Order if it meant being nothing to you?

There’s a whirlwind of activity fluttering in and out of your room, and Obi-Wan barely manages to force his way inside.

You’re awake and you’re choking around a tube and you’re confused but you’re alright.

His throat burns with the ache to scream out his thanks, his affections, his love, but then your eyes lock onto his and you whimper amidst your fear. That snaps him back into place, and he’s moving to be at your side, gripping your hand and softening his gaze.

He smooths his hand over your hair and murmurs soft encouraging praises to you as healers begin adjusting medicines and dosages and tests. There’s a shuffle of movement around you, and he keeps your wide, scared eyes trained on him as he continues talking. Tears shine in your eyes from pain and terrified confusion, but they focus on him.

He isn’t sure what he’s saying, but he just talks. He talks and talks and talks to try to hide the way he feels like he’s about to burst into tears because thank you, Maker, you’re awake, and you can hear him, and you’re clearly focusing on him which means you can understand him. He raises the hand he’s gripping and presses it to his lips, releasing another relieved breath when your hand squeezes his in response.

Sometime in between the quiet murmurs Obi-Wan has been saying to you, your hand had reached up to fist in his shirt, keeping him firmly in your space. Every so often, with a particularly painful jolt or prick, your fingers would pull at the fabric, and he’d lean his head down to brush his nose against yours.

He wants to kiss you.

The thought strikes him rather suddenly and he’s slightly startled by the intensity of his desire. Oh, how desperately he wants to kiss you. For a moment, just a small, little, hopeful moment, Obi-Wan thinks he sees something in your eyes that means you wouldn’t push him away if he tried.

Then a healer brushes against his arm as they smooth the blanket back over you, and Obi-Wan watches as you tear your gaze away from him, focusing on the healer speaking to you.

They do tests on you and… and you’re fine.

Lucky, incredibly lucky, to have survived a dosage you did without severe long-term damage. There was some nerve damage that affected your right hand, but it’s barely enough to be visible to the eye, and with physical therapy it should be just fine.

A week later, Obi-Wan is given the all clear to whisk you out of the hospital wing and back to your shared apartment.

It’s only when you flop gratefully onto your bed and let out a long sigh that the memories of That Day return to Obi-Wan.

Clear memories of how he felt about you, how obvious it had been to himself then.

He loved you.

Not as a friend, or a sister, or a student, or any other thing you could’ve been. He loved you, in ways he shouldn’t, in ways he couldn’t, because you were young and he was pretty much double your age, and you weren’t his but you were his and fuck, that thought felt so wrong now. It betrayed everything he stood for, everything he believed in. He’s loved before, yes, but this was different.

This had snuck up on him and hit him full-force in a moment of absolute weakness. This was him realising that his belief in his duty to you… extended far further than duty. His protection over you, his attempts to make you happy, his attempts to let you feel loved- He foolishly let himself believe it was because you were his Padawan. After all, he tried to do the same with Anakin…

But he was in love with you.

He loved you, plain and simple and good, a love with no expectations or dark desires, a love that was pure and right and that burned through him.

It built up up up and threatened to spill out from his throat and from behind his eyes if he stared at you any longer.

He loved you.

And there you were, just sitting there. Unbeknownst to him, you'd come to your own revelation quite some time ago, skipping happily past the stages of denial and panic, and reaching a conclusion that he was himself about to come to.

He has no option.

Well, he technically has three. He could tell you how he felt, scare the crap out of you, risk expulsion from the Order and face the massive probability that you would never speak to him ever again. Next, he could also not tell you anything, put in for a transfer, break your heart by abandoning you, and face the even higher probability of you never speaking to him again. Neither of those options were… realistic for him to carry out.

So he has no choice but to go with the one that would hurt you the least- that is to say, not hurt you at all.

He won’t say a word.

Obi-Wan decides with a resounding finality that he has a duty to you, a promise that he has every intention of upholding. To train you to become the best that you can be under him, until you had nothing more to learn from him, until you were ready to proceed with your trials. With how spectacularly you had progressed, from being one of the youngest younglings to be ready to undergo Padawan training to the utterly brilliant Padawan you were now, Obi-Wan knows it’s likely you’ll go through your trials at at even younger age than Anakin. Rare, yes, but not unheard of. And certainly not a big surprise.

A couple of years then, he figures.

A couple more years for him to push down his feelings and sit on them and pretend he doesn't adore you so, a couple more years until you grew tired of being just his Padawan and started wanting to prove yourself as an independent Knight. A couple more years, he decides, turning to face you once your eyes flutter open.

You’re sitting on your bed, wide eyes blinking up at him and a shy smile dancing over your features. You’re sitting on your bed, where in a few years he’ll-

It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know yet. You don’t know yet. It doesn’t matter.

He just needs to hold out for a couple more years, he tells himself. He wishes it was more than just a couple when you smile your brilliant smile at him.

Love is strange, that way.

----

End-

----

LAWL I FORGOT THE TAG LIST NDJENEUOFNEFO Taglist: (If you’d like to be added lmk! Or removed, no hard feelings!) @allinmymind @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mugoi-usagi @babymango-writes @fluffyhales @whinsical-ash @filthy-thots @altarsw @mando831 @ruleroftides @soft-and-lush @softlikefairydust @bumblegadget @stafskislava @torihester @shedobeclownin @satikryze @buwnni @mando-amando@mrskenobi19 @butch-medusae @fandomtrxshh @a-c-lee @neji85 @reejero @silverpuppi @thereluctantherosrose @shinybananapastanickel @hey-there-angels @grumpymuffinmama @hufflingpuffling-blog1 @kyle9no @qt-ane@arsowon  @lovelyweepingrebel @marvelranger @lovelylostminds @animalgirl05 @bloodybunnyuwu@lucasfilms77 @comphersjost @princess-dragon-rider@justanothersadperson93 @ask-the-elf-stuff @myyrandommblogg@integalacticspacemonkey @cosmickenobi @zanzann @buckyboobear @evstop @mushroomlupin @dreamer7black @swee-thea-hearts @bumblegadget

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao: Falling Hard In Love HCs

I re-posted this in case anyone is confused. Tumblr is not enjoying Xiao and I feel attacked. Pls work ;-; I have family 

Hihi^^ and npnp I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I love Xiao so much, pls send me all your xiao asks I will speed do them. He deserves the world so buddy, come home don’t dodge me like Venti

Semi Part 1: Friendship

Semi Part 3: Cuddles

Semi Part 4: Protective

Semi Part 5: Affection 

Semi Part 6: Jealously

Semi Part 7: First Kiss

Semi Part 8: Opposites Attract

Semi Part 9:  String of Fate [Soulmate] HCs

Semi Part 10:  [ Fainting ]

---

Xiao: Falling Hard In Love HCs

He knows what love is but never thought he would experience this strong of an emotion. He's respected people such as his fellow adepti and Rex Lapis and he has a somewhat close relationship with Ming. He's felt protective over Liyue and children but never for a single person.

His first thoughts are you must either be an unannounced adepti that somehow came to be or you were an evil demon that somehow laid a curse on him. Both very implausible since he can tell you were human and you would never have an opening to curse him before his spear would get to you first.

He watches you, wondering why you've captured so much of his attention. You can feel someone's eyes on you but every time you turn around you don't see anyone.

You go to Xiao worried that a demon might be stalking you since he is the Guardian Yaksha and he might be able to help you. When he sees how frightened you are because of his actions, he immediately stops borderline stalking you. He tells you he will take care of it and you won't need to worry about anything.

He tries to keep his distance and aloof manner to make you both drift apart more since a relationship would not be the best considering he is an adepti, but he does dote on you in his own way without realizing it. It just comes naturally to him.

If you bring a gift or a plate of almond tofu, he can't deny an offering. That would just be rude. This is ignoring the fact that he's never concerned himself with prayers or offerings in the past, let alone appear in front of that person except for you.

If you're a traveler he would silently watch over your path. He won't be watching you from any shadows since that didn't go so well the first time so he'll clear the path so you won't run into monsters. Half way through he get's a bit pissed at his behaviour, that he's doing so much for one person when adepti usually seclude themselves yet here he is in the open, killing fodder when he’s faces demons that could swallow Liyue. But then he thinks about you getting hurt and he's right back to work.

He finds himself missing your presence when you’re not at the inn for an extended period of time. Looking out over Liyue from the roof of the inn hoping to see you appear just over the hill. Whenever Ming points out that he’s missing you because he likes you he frowns at himself. Has he really fallen that hard? He tries to clears his mind by fighting something but his walk back always makes him reflect.

When you return and remark about how easy your trip was. That there were no monsters anyways near their camps and how peaceful it was, he simply shrugs and nods in agreement.

"Xiao? I'm back from my travels!" you call out in the open space where you would usually find him. You had just gotten back from what was suppose to be a 2 week long trip which only lasted for half the time.

"You're back early"

You nearly shrieked in shock. No matter how many times you've talked with Xiao, his sudden appearance always startles you. You slowly calmed your heart as you turned to see the adepti sitting on the roof of the inn, staring up at the night sky.

"You know, it was kind of funny actually. I passed by many hilichurls camps but I never saw any,” you stated reminiscing your trip as you side eyed the adepti, “would you have anything to do with that?”

“You were taking a dangerous route. You should stay on the main road from now on. It would be foolish for you to die out of sheer curiosity and to something like a hilichurl”  he scolds, crossing his arms as he peers down annoyed at you while you sheepishly smile back.

“Aw its not too bad. At least I can count on you Xiao. Going out and protecting Liyue as the Guardian yaksha” you chucked. He can feel the tips of his ears start to blush. But before you can see his face turn pink he suddenly stands up and puts his mask on as he materializes his spear.

“Yes and I must go again. There are more hilichurls coming too close to the inn. I’ll have to deal with it before they cause more trouble” he quickly nods to you as he jumps down from the roof he was perched on

“Oh...alright, have a safe travel” you silently wave to his back as he passes you

“Likewise”

You watched him jump off from the railing to the inn and into the trees as he disappeared into the night. The green glow of his mask fading away the further he ran. He really was incredible.

“Hah, I was so close this time” you sigh, you were trying to lead your compliment into something more but Xiao cut your conversation short. Maybe he did know of your deeper feelings and was trying to softly reject them and you? You quickly slapped your cheeks getting rid of those bad thoughts

“Well, there's always tomorrow” you smiled, hyping yourself up to hopefully tell the aloof adepti your feelings for him.

[thefanficmonster]

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends. 

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well. 

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“ 

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“ 

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling. 

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in. 

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either. 

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams  @the-fuck-up-of-today  @slashersdream  @chiefwombathoagiepizza  @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01

[rubysunnday]

Favourite brother - Part 2

A/N: well, part one went down surprisingly well! 

“So, Daphne is now a duchess...”

Y/N raised her eyebrows expectantly at her brother, waiting for him to finish his comment. She looked back down at her embroidery and poked the needle through the fabric. “And?”

Colin leant forward in his chair. “Perhaps, now, the ton will be watching you.”

Y/N let out a unladylike snort. “Oh, please. As long as Miss Thompson is around and as long as Daphne and Simon are in their ‘newlywed’ bliss, I will always be the wallflower of the family.”

Colin eyed his sister with a sad gaze. He didn’t miss the way she stabbed her needle through the fabric a little harder than necessary nor the way she practically glowered at Anthony (probably hoping he would spontaneously combust). 

“Colin, I can feel you staring at me,” Y/N said, looking up from her embroidery to give her brother a level stare. “What is it?” “You truly don’t believe you are worth anything, do you?”

Y/N paused, needle halfway through the fabric. She slowly pushed it through, trying to ignore the burning in her eyes.

Colin was right. She didn’t see herself as worthy of anything. Compared to Daphne who’d captured the eye of the ton and then a duke and a prince, she’d had nothing. Her three older brothers had always been swarmed with suitors and Y/N had truly believed that, maybe, one day, it would’ve been like that for her.

But apart from an almost marriage to Nigel Berbrooke that was out of spite to her brother and sister and was unwanted by her, she had had no proposals and no suitors.

A fact she wanted to blame Anthony for but that Y/N knew was down to nothing more than bad luck. 

If she’d made her debut a year later it would’ve been the same story. Everyone would’ve been captivated by Eloise and she would’ve been forgotten. Or everyone would’ve been terrified of Eloise and been forced to look at Y/N.

Either or.

When you were a twin of someone who excelled in everything you didn’t, it was easy to be overlooked and forgotten - especially in a family of nine. 

But up until she and Daphne came of age, she hadn’t felt overlooked. She’d felt loved and seen as an equal to her brothers. Anthony hadn’t been so protective (He'd always been protective of them all. But compared to how Benedict was when someone upset or threatened his family, Anthony was a saint.). 

Everyone fawned over Daphne when she began courting Simon - and rightfully so. But Y/N’s prospects and potential suitors had become nothing more than polite conversation between her and her ladies maid. 

“Y/N?”

Y/N inhaled sharply and jumped slightly at Colin’s voice. She looked over at him and gave him a somewhat unconvincing smile. “I’m fine. I just feel somewhat underwhelming compared to my sister,” she replied, turning her eyes back to her embroidery. 

Which was beginning to look less and less like a violet and more like an oddly shaped duck. 

Colin, sensing his sister wasn’t in the mood to be proved wrong, left the conversation there. He also didn’t want to end up with a sewing needle in his eye - the chances of which were becoming increasingly likely the more he poked and prodded. 

It was a beautiful ballroom.

There were candles in every window and garlands of flowers draped across the walls with petals dashed across the floor. 

The garden was a lit with numerous furnaces and torches that blazed in the summer night and the fountain set in the centre of the sprawling, immaculate hedges and flowers trickled away.

None of the beauty, however, was making Y/N feel any better about being left out of yet another ball.

She’d been standing on the sidelines watching ever since she’d arrived. Benedict had offered to dance with her but Y/N hadn’t wanted to be mentioned in Lady Whistledown for dancing with no one but her own brothers so had declined the invitation.

Instead she chose to stand and watch the beautiful couples dance around the room as she sulked and drank yet another glass of lemonade. 

“Why are you skulking back here?” Anthony asked, approaching his sister with a confused, concerned and curious expression.

Y/N swallowed the rather large gulp of lemonade she’d taken and tried not to give her brother a glare. “No one’s asked me to dance.”

“I’m sure Colin -”

“That is not the point, Anthony!” Y/N exclaimed, cutting him off. “I’ve had no one to dance with apart from my brother’s and Simon, who is now my brother too!” She almost growled but remembered that half the ton were around and forced herself to calm down. “Daphne has been the centre of everyone’s attention and had the suitors falling at het feet. I thought that now she’s married, they’d look to me - but apparently no one settles for second best.” 

Anthony stared at his sister. “Y/N, you’re not second best to anyone.”

Y/N scoffed. She set her empty lemonade glass down, slightly worried she was going to through it at her brother’s head. “Then why haven’t you looked at me twice all season, Anthony? You walked off at my very first ball, leaving me to flounder. You never escorted me - not even tonight! You have, so far, not cared about who comes calling for me - which was no one, by the way - and you don’t care that I have had no suitors, no callers and no proposals!”

She was breathing fast and could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She was angry. She was so angry and even though most of the anger was at the ton for being so vain, she couldn’t very well direct it at a ballroom full of people.

Instead she directed it at her older brother, the one who should’ve looked out for her and guided her through her first season in society but didn’t.

Anthony, for once, had the decency to look hurt by his sister’s accusations. He had a broken look on his face as he realised she was right and that he’d ignored  her. He was stunned into silence.

But Y/N hadn’t want pitiful silence, she’d wanted an argument - for Anthony to get angry at her and prove her wrong but also right.

“Say something!” Y/N snapped, glaring at Anthony. 

 Benedict and Colin had noticed the, somewhat heated argument, and were trying to weave their way through the crowd to intervene before one of them snapped and punched the other.

Anthony opened his mouth and closed it again. He was speechless - a rare feat, indeed.

Y/N scoffed and shook her head. “Fine.”

She turned on her heel and disappeared through the crowd, heading towards the door to the garden. 

Benedict and Colin made it to Anthony’s side and frowned.

“What was that all about?” Benedict asked, looking at Anthony expectantly. 

Anthony swallowed and forced himself to look at his brother. “She hates me.”

Colin, who had sensed the argument was coming, put a hand on Anthony’s arm. “No, she doesn’t. She’s angry at the world and the expectations society place on her shoulders. All she really wants, Anthony, is you.”

“I’ve ignored her almost this entire season,” Anthony said, staring at Colin. “How...”

“There’s still a few weeks left of the season, though,” Colin reminded him. He gestured to the door that Y/N had fled through. “Go on.”

Anthony didn’t need anymore encouragement, he brushed past his brother’s and all but marched through the crowd towards the door. 

Y/N had disappeared out onto the fire lit terrace of the house and was leaning on the stone bannister, trying to calm down. 

She loved her brother. Truly, she did. She also knew that he would never do anything to ruin her prospects intentionally.

That didn’t, however, stop her from wanting to throttle him. 

“Y/N?”

Y/N closed her eyes and inhaled. She could feel Anthony watching her and heard his footsteps approaching closer as he walked up to her. 

“Are you alright?” 

There was concern - genuine concern - in his voice. Y/N was usually good at keeping her emotions together and not breaking down until she was either with her mother or on her own.

But all it took was Anthony’s concerned question and a gentle hand on her shoulder for her to lose any control she’d had.

Y/N felt the tears drip down her face and turned to Anthony, practically throwing her arms around him and clinging on to him as if he was the only thing keeping her afloat. 

Slightly surprised by her sudden change in emotion, it took Anthony a moment to catch-up with the fact his sister was sobbing in to his arms and needed, not Lord Bridgerton, but her big brother. 

Anthony wrapped his arms around her and held her as she sobbed, waiting for her to speak.

Y/N eventually managed to get control of her emotions again and she stepped away from Anthony, wiping her eyes as delicately as she could to avoid ruining her make-up.

“Sorry.”

“Never apologise for being human,” Anthony said softly, sitting next to her on a bench. 

Y/N sighed. “I’m just... compared to Daphne I am nothing. No one has even looked twice at me this entire season. I’m her sister and nothing more.”

Anthony put a hand on her knee. “Do you truly believe that?” He asked, looking her in the eye.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. All I wish is for someone, anyone, to look at me and call on me because they like me. Not because they wanted an easy way to my sister or to you or to Eloise or to anyone who isn’t me!” 

“Y/N, you are a wonderful young lady and if those men can’t see it -”

“Then they’re not worth my time, I know,” she said, shooting Anthony an amused smile. “You sound like Benedict.”

“I believe you meant that Benedict sounds like me, he did come second after all,” Anthony quipped.

Y/N smacked her brother on the arm. She shook her head with a smiles she tried not to laugh. 

“Come on,” Anthony said, standing up and holding a hand out to her. “Will you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Bridgerton?”

Y/N took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Of course, Lord Bridgerton.” 

“Excuse me, Miss Bridgerton?” Y/N turned around. A young man, Lord Durrell if she remembered correctly, was standing in front of her looking slightly anxious.

“Yes, Lord Durrell?” Anthony asked, raising his eyebrows in his trademark brooding, older brother way.

“I was wondering if you would do me the honour of a dance this evening?” Durrell asked, looking directly at Y/N.

Y/N smiled and held out the arm that her dance card was on. “Of course, Lord Durrell. After I’ve dance with my brother, of course.”

Lord Durrell smiled and wrote his name on her card. “I look forward to it,” he said, bowing down.

Y/N curtsied slightly in response and watched as he left. She waited a few seconds and then squealed and jumped up and down. 

Anthony chuckled, stepping back to avoid being hit by a flailing limb. “See, I told you.”

“No, you didn't, actually,” Y/N said, taking her brother’s arm. “You just repeated what Benedict said and gave me a hug.”

“Which is just as important.”

“Naturally.”

Anthony led Y/N to the dance floor and the two took up their positions. 

“I don’t say this often enough,” Y/N said as they danced around the room, “but I’m so glad you’re my brother, Anthony.”

Anthony managed to concel his surprise by twirling Y/N around and using the brief moment she wasn’t looking to show his surprise before hiding it again. 

“I’m incredibly lucky to have you in my life,” she continued, oblivious. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Anthony nodded and smiled, twirling her around again. 

Later on, however, when he was in his own lodgings away from prying eyes, Anthony looked back on the moment and had to hide his tears in a bottle of whiskey and the mountain of paperwork he had to fulfil. 

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Surprise (M)

They talk about sex (minors kindly from the bottom of my heart, fuck off)

Living with not one Shinobi, but four had its perks. It also had many, many negatives to it. Privacy was never a thing, after being with them for so long, it didn’t bother you. But trying to plan a surprise for any of them was hell. Tengen had been catching on to your schemes and you knew he was. You could feel his gaze on you when you excused yourself after receiving a letter, or when you brought more than usual home from the market. He didn’t say anything to you, choosing to keep his mouth shut as you tried to shove the extra pouch of sugar into the already stuffed cabinets. Letting out an exhausted sigh you sat on the floor, a pout taking over your lips as you thought about another spot to put all these ingredients you had for a bountiful feast.

“Dollface, why are you sitting there?” Leaning against the doorframe, his built arms crossed over his chest, Tengen smiled at you. His maroon eyes wandered around the kitchen, looking at all of the extra ingredients you had brought home with you. You turned around, tears already built up in your eyes at the frustration you felt. His sudden interest in what you were doing told you that he knew about the surprise. The entire thing. He had been hovering since he figured it out, staying close by you and helping you with anything that seemed to keep you even the slightest bit tired. You knew that he had figured it out already, but most of you wanted it to be a surprise, something you could spend a night celebrating and talking about, hushed whispers in your bedroom as you both expressed your excitement.

"It's nothing Tengen" you shook your head, turning back to the open cabinets, stuffed to the brim with ingredients. You could hear him sigh behind you, the door frame creaking as he removed himself from it.

"Don't cry doll face, we can reorganize if you need to fit all of this" he planted himself next to you, an arm snaking around your waist as he pulled you close to him, a calloused hand wiping at the tears that had fallen. You wanted to push him away, yell at him for ruining it already. But that wasn't fair, he never expressed that he knew what you had been trying desperately to keep secret, to surprise him with. You had been growing more emotional though, finding yourself crying at the smallest inconvenience. It was only a matter of time before everyone found out.

"I have to use it all soon so there's no point" you huffed, trying to look away and avoid his curious gaze.

"Oh, you're going to use everything you dragged home? Are we having company?" The teasing tone in his voice made you want to laugh, maybe even cry some more. "The girls are gone so there couldn't possibly be a reason all of this is just for you and me" he hummed

"It is my love, I figured I would make you a good meal before you had to leave. I don't know when you will join the girls but I want to make sure you are well fed and have your strength" you smiled, a hopeful expression as you hoped to lead him away from any more questions you wouldn't be able to answer without spilling the secret.

"Ah, I see. Just you and I. No one else?" You nodded, not trusting your voice. He smirked, moving to stand before reaching down to help you up. He captured you in his embrace as you stood, pulling you close to him.

"Doll, don't push yourself for my sake. Just spend time with me" he mumbled the words into you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his larger figure practically folded in half to hold your smaller one. Your hands ran through his hair, silver locks cascading over your fingers as you ran your nails over his scalp. You could feel him let out a content sigh, a pleased noise he always made when you did this.

"Tengen, sweetheart" he removed himself from your neck, Maroon eyes meeting yours as he smiled at you.

"I have something I want to tell you" his smile widened as he nodded enthusiastically, removing his arms from around you and grabbing your hand, leading you to one of the cushions in the room adjacent to you. You let out a dejected sigh. Upset with your utter failure of a surprise, knowing you had no choice but to just tell him before someone else did. He pulled you into his lap, muscled thighs cushioning you as he trapped you in his embrace once more.

"Go on doll"

"Tengen" you swallowed, sudden anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. "My love, I'm pregnant" seconds passed in silence as he just stared at you, his grip on your waist tightening as his smile widened, teeth on full display as he grinned at you.

"If you could get any more perfect I'm afraid I won't be able to keep up" he chuckled, leaning forward to connect his forehead with yours, another content sigh leaving his lips. "I've known doll face, but I'm beyond happy to hear you say it. I was beginning to worry that I would have to step up my game. But alas, a flamboyant man like me always performs at the highest quality" you giggled, bringing your hand to his cheek so you could pull him closer, catching your lips in his

It was only a matter of time before you ended up pregnant. Tengen had become increasingly less careful when you shared intimate moments, not that you minded much. With the other girls, you knew he was always careful, cautious, and protected before anyone did anything. They were Shinobi and he couldn't risk losing one of the people he fought alongside. The girls were the only people he trusted fully to fight with. He worked well with all three of them, he did since he was younger. With you though, it was a completely different story. You were never a fighter, solely someone he fell head over heels with after a mission and wanted nothing more than to start a family with, duty didn't come first with you. When Hinatsuru expressed the desire to retire after her current mission it was as if something in Tengen snapped. Caution was thrown to the wind that same night, after you all arrived home from your moonlit picnic.

"When did you figure it out?" When you broke away from his lips, allowing yourself a breath before you questioned him. He leaned back, eyes wandering as he pondered.

"I was suspicious when you were sobbing like that before I left with the girls. You had never acted like that when we left for previous missions. Then you seemed to be a lot more emotional so I was weary. But I confirmed my theory when we were making love last week. Your stomach is growing already, so are your breasts." He spoke so casually about such intimate detail. Your face instantly heated up in embarrassment at the thought of him inspecting your body for changes like that. He seemed to catch onto your embarrassment, quickly interrupting your thoughts "I have loved you and your body enough to know when something changes. your small stomach, going to get so big pretty soon here" he couldn't stop himself from grinning as he moved a hand to your stomach, his thumb drawing patterns over your kimono. "I'm ecstatic to start a family with you. The girls will be excited too. After this, we will live happily. Maybe get some siblings for this sweetheart, have a beautiful family, my dear. Thank you for everything. I promise you that this will be as easy as it can be for you if it's the last thing I do"

[fanfic-me-up]

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

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

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

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

Word Count: 6k+

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

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

Denki swallows. 

“Check.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yeah...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!” 

“That’s for emergencies only!”

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

Silence.

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that my face!?” 

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

“Uhhh…”

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

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

“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 

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

“Oops?”

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

“Denki Kaminari.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may wanna sit down for this.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love getting off to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How bad do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You love getting off to me?”

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

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

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

“Show me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

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

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

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

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 

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

“Fuck, I’m close.”

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

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

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

“Touch me.” 

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

“Chill, Denki.”

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

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 

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

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

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

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

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

“Everything and more.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Denki?” 

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Denki?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

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

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

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you think you’re going?”

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

“You close?” 

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

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

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

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

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

“About time, bro, congrats!” 

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

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

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes. 

You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 

“Did you mean it?” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

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

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

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

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

“I meant it,” you say.

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

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

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!” 

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

“Sorry!”

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

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

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

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

“... round two?” 

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

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

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

“To add to your collection 😉”