#If I hit post limit.... just let me say that tonight has been the most hilarious night of my goddamn life
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isekaioracle · 2 years ago
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jessejaredstories · 1 year ago
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One Last Adventure
“Did you find anyone yet?”
“Not yet babe, I’m still looking.”
I flipped through the pages of my old high school yearbook while my boyfriend Jack was pacing around our bedroom. He was supposed to be searching through Grindr and Tinder for potential targets, but I knew he was getting frustrated and decided not to push it. My boyfriend has always been the impatient type, but I could understand why he was getting extra antsy tonight. 
About a month ago, my boyfriend and I made a deal with a witch. In exchange for five years off of each of our lifespans, the witch would grant us the supernatural ability to take over other people’s bodies. As you can imagine, Jack and I have been generously using our new powers ever since we got them. We’ve been using them to do whatever we want as whoever we want! Getting easy access to anything we want, getting payback on anyone who’s wronged us, and probably the most fun, fucking as whoever we want. Pretty sweet ability right? 
But of course, an extraordinary power like this doesn’t come without its cost. On top of paying the witch with literal years off of our lives, there were also two conditions we needed to follow. The first condition was the time limit. We got exactly 30 days before our powers expire. Once time’s up, that’s it. No more body hopping fun. The second condition was more of a restriction than anything else. The witch said that we couldn’t just take over anyone’s body. We could only choose people both Jack and I have met in-person before. That condition really limited our options, but even so, that didn’t stop us from having as much fun as possible. 
“Hey, what about these two?” I handed Jack the yearbook with an open page. Unfortunately though, it took him less than a second to shake his head no.
“No good. I knew them but I never actually met them.”
I sighed as I took back the yearbook. Not gonna lie, I was starting to get frustrated too. We just couldn’t find any new bodies to possess! Normally, we wouldn’t get so worked over it, but tonight was different. It was our last day before our powers expired for good. Obviously we couldn’t just let our powers die out without one last body hopping escapade! But after hours of searching, it was not looking good for us…
Or so I thought. I started half-assedly looking through all the faces of our former high school classmates. It was then that two faces stuck out to me. Akshay Khan and Kabir Patel. 
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“How about these two? Remember them? The Indian bros?” I asked Jack.
“Oh yeah, I remember them. Can’t say I remember much though,”
“Neither can I.”
Akshay and Kabir were known for being inseparable best friends, but that was it really. They never got involved in any school activities. That’s why they each only had one photo in the yearbook. Easy to miss, but they were still an option nonetheless. 
“C’mon, let’s check out what they’ve been up to,” I said as I pulled out my phone. 
Jack joined me on the couch. He laid against me as I typed in Akshay’s name. Luckily that was all I needed to get a hit on Instagram. His profile came up and surely enough, it was him. He had recently posted on his story too. I clicked on it and up came a picture of him and Kabir working out at some gym together.
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“Whoa, they’ve really glowed up since high school. The gym’s been kind to them!” Jack let out a fox whistle when he saw the picture. I turned my head slightly to watch him checking out the goods. I could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that we just found our next targets.
“What do you say bro?” I said while lowering my voice. “You down to hit the showers after we hit this last set?” I caught Jack off guard with my bad Akshay impression, but he caught on right away. We exchanged a knowing look, then proceeded to get ready for the takeover. 
We both laid down on the ground and took deep breaths. We had body possession down to a science with how many times we’ve done it. All that was left to do was to go through steps again. I cleared my mind of all thoughts then I focused on imagining my soul leaving my body, all while maintaining my breathing. Soon enough, I could feel myself becoming lighter as my soul left my physical body. Once I was no longer a slave to the laws of physics, I flew straight to the gym where Akshay and Kabir were. They made the big mistake of tagging their location on social media, which made Jack and I’s job a whole lot easier! 
Thanks to my spirit form, I made it to their location within minutes. I phased through the walls and looked around for the bros. The gym was pretty empty that night for some reason. After some searching, I found Akshay in the locker room area checking himself out in the mirror. He was by himself in there. I crept up behind him, ready to strike while he was distracted! 
“Nrghh… What the fuck?” Akshay exclaimed. He hunched over while holding his stomach. I hesitated jumping into him, then abandoned the idea altogether when I realized what was happening. Jack had beaten me to the punch, he had already begun possessing Akshay.
I decided to stay back a moment and watch as my boyfriend possessed the gym rat. Akshay was groaning loudly. He tried keeping his balance but ended up falling to the ground on all fours. Sweat beads were forming on his face as he began breathing heavily. He then swung his head back with his mouth wide open. I could see his eyes roll back to the back of his head until I only saw the veiny whites of his eyeballs. Akshay then let out a loud, eerie groan. His cheeks and chest puffed up as Jack's soul slithered down his throat. I could see Akshay's Adam's apple bob up and down too! This lasted for a few seconds, then Akshay swallowed the last of Jack's essence in one final gulp. Once it was done, Akshay's eyes went back to normal and he stood up with a cocky grin on his face. 
"Ahh yeahhh... That's the good stuff..." Akshay said while caressing his massive pecs and rock hard abs. Except I knew that wasn't Akshay anymore, that was my loving boyfriend checking out his new body in the mirror. 
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I watched as my boyfriend admired his newly obtained muscles in front of the mirror. I couldn't help but smile as Jack flexed his cannons for arms and made his pecs pop. To be honest, I was slightly jealous of him. Akshay was jacked! I wanted to have that body for myself, but no matter, there was still another body up for grabs anyway. 
I turned around and began searching for Kabir. I looked throughout the gym and eventually found him near the dumbbells. Kabir was busy putting some weights back on the rack. He wasn't perfectly alone like Akshay was, but the sight of his plump butt sticking out as he was bent over was too tempting to ignore. I just had to take the risk and dive right in! 
I steadied my aim first and then charged in as fast as I could. Thanks to my spirit form, I was able to phase right through his gym shorts and go straight into his asshole. 
"Ow!! What the fuck!?" Kabir yelped out, presumably from me penetrating him by surprise. The impact of me entering him made Kabir fall onto the ground on his stomach. He grabbed onto his ass cheeks while squirming around on the ground. Unfortunately I wasn't able to possess him in one smooth motion, but it didn't matter. I was already halfway in, and there was nothing Kabir could do to stop a pro like me.
I started wiggling my way up his ass. The deeper I went inside him, the more I could feel through his body as the body takeover process started. 
"Aaargh fuckk!! Ahh!!" 
Kabir was moaning and thrashing around like a madman! I couldn't blame him though, I could feel the stimulation I was giving him by entering through his ass. I bet I was hitting all the right pleasure spots as I slithered up him! 
"Mmmm... yeahh that's the spot..." I purred using Kabir's voice. I was in full control now, and hearing his accent come out of my mouth was making me hard! I stood up and brushed off any dirt on me. I took a moment to admire my newly possessed body. Jack might have gotten the more muscular body, but Kabir was taller and with a well-toned physique too. He was hot— No, I was hot! 
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“Hey bro, you good?” 
I felt a hand pat me on the shoulder. Shit! Someone must’ve spotted Kabir thrashing around on the floor! I slowly turned around, but thankfully my worries were for nothing. It was just Jack.
“Yeah man, I’m chilling, all good here,” I answered. Jack shook his head. 
“You sure, Kabir? Looked like you had a pretty ass cramp just now… You don’t need a massage to help ease the pain?”
Getting called “Kabir” threw me off for a moment. Although I quickly caught on when I saw “Akshay” wink at me.
“Actually, you’re right, I could use a massage right now! Think you can lend me a hand bro?” I replied with a smirk. Akshay returned my gesture with a grin. It was moments like this that made me love taking over other people’s bodies with my boyfriend. Nobody but us knew that these two gym rats just got possessed by two other men, and that secret just made it even more fun.
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Akshay and I wasted no time in getting to the locker rooms. Luckily for us, there was still nobody back there. We took off our clothes and hopped into one of the shower stalls together. Akshay turned on the water, and then proceeded to pin me to the wall behind me. He planted a big fat kiss on my lips. It was aggressive, but I loved it! 
We made out in the stall with our tongues fighting for dominance while the running water helped cover up our loud kisses and moans. Naturally, our dicks got hard while we kissed. I could feel Akshay’s dick rub against me as we pressed and interlocked our wet bodies against one another. It was strange. Normally when we possess straight men, we could feel their dormant souls try to resist against us having fun with their bodies. I expected Kabir and Akshay to do the same, but they never did! It was almost as if their bodies were enthusiastic about us having our fun. Perhaps, they’ve already done what we were doing?
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. All that mattered was that Akshay had a hand around my neck, choking me while keeping me pressed against the shower wall. I opened my mouth and Akshay spit in my mouth. I swallowed it like a good boy, then I jumped onto Akshay. He held me up while we resumed kissing. Then, while our lips were locked together, he began to lower me down onto his cock. I could feel his dick tap against my hole, then it slid right in.
“OHH FUCKK!!!” I couldn’t hold back my moans. The pleasure of having Akshay’s whole length inside me… My hole expanding to accommodate his girth was too much to hold back!
“You like that? You want this big, brown cock inside you?”
“Fuck yeah! Fuck me!!” 
“Beg for it then.” He started teasing me by thrusting himself into me slowly. 
“Please bro! Please fuck me hard!! I want you… I need you… Arghh!!”
Akshay started picking up the pace of his thrusts. I thought I saw stars with every deep stroke he gave me. We were probably making a lot of noise between my moans and his grunts, but we didn’t care. We fucked like animals with our new jock bodies and we weren’t ashamed of it! 
It only took us another few minutes of fucking before we were both close. Akshay pulled out and let me down to the ground. We then started tugging our dicks together until we covered both ourselves and the shower stall with our cum. We were both panting as we shot load after load of our sweet spunk out. We then made out again one last time while we were still covered with each other’s cum before the shower washed it away. It was hot, and it was definitely the last body hopping adventure we needed before our powers expired for good. 
Once we finished having our fun, Jack and I were ready to leave. We never bothered cleaning up, we just depossessed the bodies and let them take care of it. Jack and I shared one last loving look as Akshay and Kabir before leaving. However, when we tried forcing our souls out of their bodies, we couldn’t! No matter how hard or how much we tried, we just couldn’t leave! We ended up having to clean up after ourselves for once. We did that quickly, then got dressed and left the gym as fast as we could. We had no idea what was going on! But then I caught a glimpse of the time. It was already 1:30AM! It was already the next day! It was supposed to be a quickie, but I guess Jack and I got a little carried away…
All this happened two years ago. We’ve been living as Akshay and Kabir ever since then. Even to this day, neither of us know what could’ve happened that we’d end up trapped in these bodies. If I had to take a guess, I’d wager that when the witch said that our powers would expire permanently, she meant it way more seriously than Jack and I expected. Without those powers, we couldn’t even return to our original bodies! I don’t know, but honestly, I don’t care anymore. If anything, we’ve been blessed to have Akshay and Kabir’s lives as our own. Sure, Akshay’s new family is super traditional and they’re already setting him up for a bride, but that doesn’t matter to us. We still meet up in secret when nobody’s around. No matter who we are, we are lovers and nothing will ever take that away from us. 
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We’re not sure how exactly we’re gonna get past an arranged family, but as long as Akshay is by my side, we can overcome anything.
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autumnmobile12 · 3 months ago
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All right, it's been almost year since Nocturne aired and I think my lack of enthusiasm really showed in that my Nocturne posts are pretty nonexistent compared to Castlevania. I've gone over my points in the few posts regarding my issues with the series. Most of them are personal preferences and not so much a writing problem. Richter and Marira are the types of character I don't like, so that automatically makes me less inclined to enjoy Nocturne right out of the gate. Again, personal preference and I'm hoping it's just part of their development and they'll be more likable as the series progresses. As I've said in previous posts, I'll continue Nocturne when Season 2 drops, but I'm more invested in Annette and Olrox's characters.
...
Julia's death, though, is still something that really bothers me.
Setting aside the obvious refrigeration here, she really got screwed over.  On the surface, dying in battle protecting her son is a good death, but here’s what ruined it:
Her last words to Richter are,  “I’m so sorry.”
Why is this a problem? Take this scene from the perspective lens of Julia, not the audience or the plot.  There is a dangerous vampire on the offensive in front of her.  He challenged her, not the other way around.  She knew his name and what he was capable of, and she did not hesitate to try to take him down to defend herself and her child. In this circumstance, she was a defender, not a hunter.  As a Belmont, killing Olrox is the objective.
But Julia doesn’t know Olrox is going to spare Richter!
Olrox is a vampire and he’s pissed; from Julia’s point of view, kiddo is next on the hit list.  She has no reason to believe Olrox won’t kill her son.  So she’s pinned and losing the fight, has limited options, is losing her strength, and at the point she realizes she can’t do this and that she’s going to die here, she turns to Richter and says she’s sorry.
Yeah, sorry she’s going to die and the Belmont line is going extinct tonight apparently.  Again, she has no reason to believe Olrox won’t kill Richter.
For this scene to have worked the way the writers intended, her last words, at the very least, should have been, “Run, get away!”  Or something like that.  Or they could have given her a true death in battle by letting her have that classic anime surge of energy and motivation that only the most dogged of characters have, you know——“Over my dead body are you killing my boy!”——and dying that way.
She didn’t die protecting her son.
She gave up and died. She, a Belmont, gave up and died.
She did her ancestors dirty, and therefore, the writers did her dirty.  If you’re going to kill off a character for the plot of the protagonist, especially a woman (because this happens way more often to a female character than a male,) at least do them the dignity a good death.  Make it worthy.
But getting back to the refrigeration issue, I have mixed feelings about that.  On the one hand, if they really wanted the ‘dead parent trauma’ trope, I guess I appreciate that it was Richter’s mother and not his father and therefore just another run-of-mill male hunter.  But still, we did need something a little more original than this. Even though Lisa was part of the original games and her only lore was the 'dead mother trope,' Castlevania Netflix gave her more than that: She was a doctor, she was intelligent, she was kind and always tried to do right by others. It's not a lot, but with the short amount of time Lisa is onscreen, she was given something fans could remember her for aside from 'the woman who died.' Castlevania honored the content of the original plot while expanding on it and giving it more substance.
Julia is not from the original video games, and in spite of endless possibilities they had, Nocturne still went with the 'woman whose tragic death drives the protagonist.'
The body count of dead women in Nocturne is so uncomfortable that when Edouard was killed, my immediate reaction was not the emotional response the writers probably wanted.  It was, “Oh, thank goodness, a dude finally died.  Between the two dead moms and the dead sister, we were running out of room in the fridge.”  At least Edouard and Jacques still have the benefit of still being active characters instead of plot devices and, yeah, of course I was sad to see Edouard go, but I am still irritated about what they did to Julia.
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spotsandsocks · 2 years ago
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Date night
Date Night 2k G
I did not mean to write this I had a thought here and then was enabled (not that it takes much ) by the tags left by @singlethread and @canonicallyobserving911. I have tried to build in some of the speculation and ideas flying round here too.
Eddie goes on a date, post Poker night date and Marisol has some insights on him and Buck.
The plan had been simple enough: get Buck out of his flat, introduce him to people who would understand what he’d been through, the people who had helped Eddie get through what he’d been through too. If Buck didn’t want to share how he was feeling with him, maybe he’d talk to someone else. Eddie would be happy if he just started talking to someone, anyone, normally you can’t shut Buck up but for weeks he’s been so closed in. Apart from that brief glimpse in his kitchen where he hadn’t lied but hadn’t exactly told the truth either, Buck isn’t talking. Eddie misses the part of his friend that’s gone quiet  but more than that he’s worried about him. Hence the plan. 
The first inkling that he’d miscalculated had hit him when Buck had opened the door to him looking like that, like a film star from the old movies Eddie had watched with his abuela and abuelo.  He hadn’t expected Buck to scrub up quite so well, which was again stupid in retrospect, Buck is hotter than hell on his most casual days what had he been expecting when he said ‘Dress up for me, you need to look good. I’m taking you out somewhere fancy,’ Buck had fulfilled the brief and then some.
He’d even let some of his awe slip past his lips once his brain had come back online. He distinctly remembers staring and then saying ‘wow’ Buck had beamed and looked about an inch taller as he’d preened under the praise and attention. It had been a flash of the old Buck.
Eddie hasn’t had anywhere near the same reaction to his date tonight. Marisol looks nice, she’s technically very pretty; nice face, nice hair, nice dress, nice smile. Nice nice nice. 
He’s been there, he’s done nice, it didn’t end well. 
He knows he doesn’t want nice. He’s starting to think he wants something else. Someone else. 
Poker with Buck had felt, well it had felt a whole lot of things. Nice hadn’t been one of them. He’d felt alive sitting next to Buck, watching him win hand after hand. He’d felt proud that Buck had come with him, that people watching could see Buck smile at him with eyes brighter than they’d been for weeks. He’d felt hot and breathless watching Buck’s confidence grow, pull those chips towards him with his strong capable hands, fingers curling round them then playing with one chip, twirling it through his fingers. He’d been fascinated by the way they moved, surprisingly 
dexterous considering how big those hands were. 
He feels a little hot again now, this restaurant should probably get their air con checked. Marisol is saying something about her job he thinks, so he nods and smiles, takes a bite of whatever he’d ordered. 
He wonders what Buck’s doing for dinner tonight. He hopes he’s gone out to see Maddie or Bobby or someone rather than hiding at home.  At the poker game he’d felt hopeful  like maybe Buck was coming back to him a little bit.
At the poker game he’d been having fun.
Tonight sitting opposite this perfectly pleasant woman he feels bored. 
“Eddie?” 
He refocuses on his date who says quite kindly, 
“Why are you here?” The half twist of her smile is also kind and a little knowing. 
“What?” He frowns more confused than anything.
“Why are you here?” She repeats, “well physically at least, not sure I have your full attention.”
What does he say; because his aunt’s been nagging him to start dating again and “get on with his life”,  because it’s been more than a year since he had a date, because  he’s getting older and it’s what people expect from him, because  she fits the mold for who he should date, because  he still had her number from where they fixed up her house, because  it seemed like the best of his very limited options. 
Or maybe it’s because she doesn’t make his heart race and his palms sweat, because she has brown eyes not blue and because she’s safe and won’t break his heart. 
Or is it because Buck might have thought the poker night was a date because when he said goodnight to him there’d been a moment when Eddie had thought how soft his lips looked and how close they were and Buck had looked at him and he’d looked back and his heart had skipped a beat and then he’d said goodnight with his eyes fixed on his shoes and left.
There’s a lot of reasons why he’s here tonight and one reason why he shouldn’t be. 
The most honest thing he can say is sorry so he does. 
“I'm.. I’m  really sorry I shouldn’t have done this. I’m just not ready to date.” 
Eddie says the words with the memory of soft lights and large hands holding cards in his head. He says the words with the feel of soft velvet under his fingers and the scent of the whiskey on Buck’s breath as he’d lent in to whisper in his ear at the table. 
“Is it that guy?” She asks with another small smile, “the one you came round to mine with, Buck wasn’t it? Did you just break up or something, this a rebound date?”  
Eddie’s heart lurches “What? Why, why would you think that? Me and Buck we’re not, we’ve never… no… no.” 
Marisol sits back in her chair, “Oh! It’s a ‘I'm in love but I haven’t told him’ kinda thing then.” 
He hasn’t got an answer to that. Not that she was asking a question, it’s more of a statement.
Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“It’s fine Eddie. I understand, I was surprised you called, I kinda assumed you were with him then.”
“Why?”  His heart is in his throat waiting for her answer, if he’s that obvious a stranger thinks he has feelings for Buck then it’s more than likely Buck suspects, more than suspects after poker night. 
“Well the way he looked at you was a big clue.”
Wait what? The way Buck looks at him .
read the rest on AO3
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forestshadow-wolf · 1 year ago
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[Long Post] the rewritten zombie au post (part 1)
Tav Journal - Alpha
Sanity log 1:
Something happened a few days ago, we're not sure what to call it yet. People have gone mad, it's a miracle that all four of us made it off base alive. To be honest I'm not even really sure what went down. That's why im even starting this, so I can keep it all in order. I think I'd much prefer a verbal log, but with the way things have gone I think this is more logical since devices have limited storage and usually aren't water friendly. And in any case wilderness survival training in boot taught how to make string from plants, and I went down a rabit hole af few years back on how to make books from scratch, so I know how to do that. The only problem would be finding things to write with, but there's probably an easy solution.
I've never done this before, I'm not really sure where to start, but I guess the beginning would be good.
The beginning felt like ages ago to me, so I'm a bit hazy on the details. Ghost says we were in his room watching a movie (note: it might be good to start getting the others side of things too, not sure for what, but maybe it'll be useful later). And then I think we heard lots of noise, screaming maybe, or just a stampede perhaps, I know I definitely heard a gunshot. We opened the door to see what the hell was going on and ,honest to god, the halls were packed fulled than I've ever seen them, with a moving hoarde.
After that it gets much clearer. Kinda. Ghost pulled out a go bag from, I don't even know, and the knife he keeps under his bed. It was like he was prepared for something like this, he was so fast (though I suppose if you go through as much shit as he has then you learn to stay prepared, I guess). He pushed me us out the window, and then we were running into the woods. Well ghost was running to the woods, I was following ghost.
He shoved us down under the shrubbery and the just laid there for, I don't even know how long, but it must've been a quarter of the day easily. He started peaking his head up when the sun hit the tree line, at this point we still have no idea what's up with gaz and/or price. I think ghost had us wait another hour or two, until it really got dark, before we actually got up. And then we're apparently heading to the armory, remember, I'm still just following ghost at this point.
Ghost hands me one of the tac bags and tells me to load it with whatever ammo I could grab. The bags are meant to hold guns, so there's a lot of space to fill up. Honestly I hardly even looked at it all, I just started tossing stuff in. Ghost was filling up his own bag of whatever gun was compatible with the rounds I was grabbing. (Side note: the base is only allowed to keep a certain amount in the armory at a time, so I grabbed it all). He also, apparently, grabbed 2 sets of the combat knives, which he would hand later to me once we got off the base.
After that we went to the cafe, loaded up on food. I wonder if ghost knew what was actually happening or if he was working off of instinct? We got off base after that, Wandered until night fall. Wandered most of the next day as well. Ran into price and gaz as the sun was setting.
There's more to add. A lot more. Important details I skipped to get the main points down. But we're moving on early tomorrow morning, I took watch last night, so I need sleep tonight.
"Hit the hay, Johnny, we're moving gone as soon as the sun's up"
"Aye, right on it, LT. Don't get too borded without me." He gave the man a mock salute, to which he got an unimpressed look. He settled with his head on his arm and let his eyes fall shut.
If soap woke up in the morning a little earlier that price and gaz so he could cuddle with ghost... well that's neither here nor there.
"I think we're crossing the city today, so... you know... expect trouble." Ghost says quietly.
"Cans 'n' gum? Or something else?"
"Maybe pick up a bag or two. Gotta be extra careful though, I think price said he saw squatters when he was out scouting with with gaz yesterday."
"Zombies ghost. Brain eating zombies, like the dumb movies." Soap giggles.
"Fine. Zombies." Ghost humors him with an exasperated sigh at soap's antics.
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dballzposting · 10 months ago
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okay this is gonna sound maybe kinda wild but i need you to bear with me here. on account of i just had this thought but i have hit post limit and you're the only person i can trust with this
videl is a whiskey drinker. you know this, i know this, everyone knows this. it doesn't affect her. she's been sneaking a little bit ever since she was big enough to reach the bottle, bc Dad said it was a Real Man's Drink and she had something to prove.
Videl does not drink to excess, but even drunk videl is not that much different from normal videl. maybe a little floppier. maybe a little less testy. whatever.
but gohan?
gohan starts with wine. it's a low alcohol content. it's refined, it's classy, it fits the image of the future he wants. and, most importantly, he wouldn't feel embarrassed if his mom found out he had a glass of wine. She wouldn't be happy about him drinking alcohol, but she would Understand.
wrong fucking move.
he has one glass. He hates the way it makes him feel. The control he's fought so hard for slips away. he melts into Dionysus' bestial embrace.
all of a sudden his instincts kick in and he's fighting for control silently in his own mind. Stone-faced and wild-eyed, he sits alone in his dark bedroom. And when Videl opens the door, he makes unblinking eye contact. For several moments, her heart freezes and she understands that her husband is truly half-alien; something wretched from beyond the stars lurks in his chest.
he says, with no emotion expressed, 'we're alive, you and I.'
and her heart resumes
she walks up to the bed and sits on her knees next to gohan. she softly touches his face, and he gently, reverently, takes her forearm in his mouth like a dog.
she strokes his hair with her other hand, and he lets go. he looks up at her with sad, sad eyes. he speaks again
'I want to hunt a rabbit. not like a man, with guns and traps and ki, but like a quick and clever creature. the claws on my hands and the teeth in my mouth.'
and then, in the dim light of the hallway, videl looks at the nightstand and sees a cup and a bottle with just enough wine missing to deduce he has had one (1) glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
and after cooking up the steak she was saving for after she won the poker tournament tomorrow to sate gohan's bloodhunger, she puts him to bed and calls up Chi-Chi.
(I don't have an ending for this i just think that most aliens in dbz, saiyans especially, have a really low alcohol tolerance for reasons that would take forever to explain, and that gohan especially would be weird bc he has had so much training specifically to deal with his instincts and emotions, and that alcohol would interfere with the execution of that training but not the understanding of it)
thank you if you took the time to read this!
thank you if you took the time to read this!
Hey I think I need to answer this now like right now becos it was sent tonight and there is no way that this will be permissible tomorrow.
OK WElll let's see here let's break this down. Have no fear audience members we will get throuhg thsi
OK first of all
youtube
im sleepy let me think about this one.
You Have Hit Post Limit Yet Again.
Videl drinks whiskey the same way she smokes cigars ok got it. She's always been able to detect on some level the vacancy in her father where his spine should be so she's always known that titles like "Real Man" were empty aesthetics and that she herself captured the REAL ideals without having to boast it. But at some point she has to say something to give people something to listen to when their eyes fail them. She drinks that whiskey and she doesn't need to but she's damn good at it
Wine "fits the image of the future [Gohan] wants" ... It's a future that has the luxury to build itself on levels of social games like aesthetics and class and propriety ... it has the luxury of peace. Plus it's a fun fruity color. Lol.
THE IDEA THAT ONE (1) GLASS OF WINE JUST COMPLETELY FUCKING UNDOES HIM ?
He's had to fight for control and this control just puts its hat on and walks out the frontal cortex at the slightest flavor of alcohol. Like Ok I'm out. Bye
OK like actually everything about Gohan & Videl's relationship and interactions is completely the notion of Wearing Class on top of Beastliness. A dapper hat and bloody fangs. Vampires in the city. Complex mammalian social interactions being the most phylogenetically recent adaption to the nervous system and it necessarily has communications with the "lower" systems and making sense of the whole system is what makes us human. In my earlier post today I almost said something about Videl marrying the knives of intellect with the force of shadows but i coudnt figure out how to phrase it. I still can't. My point is that I think that this ask will cohere going forward but let's find out
He would sit there stone faced in the dark willing the moment to pass that is so Goahn ...
She literally would understand perfectly and she would give him her arm. He's an alien and something beyond the stars lurks unarticulated yet thriving in his being and she would see that and duely freeze as a human ought but she would feel like "FINALLY something that fucking MAKES SENSE" like she would get it
Because she KNOOOWS that she's gonna win the poker tournamnet. Gonna be honest. I think that it's gonna be Krillin's lucky night. Unless it's a woman-only tournament. Then I'm thinking that Bulma almost wins until A18 smoothly takes over at the last second. But Videl wins the other times. We just can't all be winners allof the time....
She's cooking the steak and he's pacing like a sad dog miserably musing that "it's not gonna be enough" and she has to be like "Look how red it is. Look how warm. Pretend it's fresh-killed." and Gohan remebers when he was a little boy when he was surviving in the wild, there was this dickhead dinosaur who always tried to get at him and Gohan would slice off a bit of its tail and eat it every time he won the fight. And the dinosaur kept trying. And Gohan almsot felt bad about it but now he's understasnding more than ever that winning or losing are just the outcomes of the NECESSARY NEED TO HUNT, it was righteous and essential that he and that dinosaur continuously engaged with each other and the dinosaur had no choice by nature. so he doesnt feel bad anymore in fact he feels thrilled at having partaken. And he feels big for winning. And he eats the steak and Videl offers that red wine goes good with red meat and he says NO PLEASE NO GOD. NO
OK like yes in the dragon ball that we see on screen it would track for Videl to call Chichi on the phone and garner a light commiseration re: Alien Husbands without actually disclosing any details at all, and even gather some productive insight or info. BUT The Chichi that I know is like "Laura" by Billy Joel and everything is about her feelings and so we honestly wanna keep her as far from the genuine lived experience of others as possible.
I'll believe you about the alcohol thign.
Also I'm gonna interject and say that Feeling your Feelings w/o judgement and w/o needing to take action about them is so imporatant and I wish that Gohan wouldnt fight himself down so much.
But I get it like he's more than an animal he's an alien and there's nothing more primal than being the improbable lovechild of a human and an alien and he will never know if what he is feeling is "acceptable" or "alien and fucked up" and he fears it all same
EVERYBIODY SLEEP TIGHT or WAKE UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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fractalabomination · 1 year ago
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Holy shit, you’ve done 41 heat? I’m still having trouble getting out of the single digits (though granted, with “only” about 100 runs in)
Oh, yes. I've been playing this game ever since two seperate people messaged me about it being in early access... within 30 minutes of Supergiant announcing it. For better or for worse, I've been playing for... nearly five years, at this point. Granted, intermittently over the past 3 or so, but still.
And I'm still finding out new things! Hell, I just witnessed a series of conversations between Skelly and Zagreus for the first time because I just never happened to trigger it before. (Talking to hermes while skelly's tooth is equipped)
...also broke a few personal records tonight. managed to get faster times tonight than anywhen else.
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...anyways.
41 heat was terrifying. I'm sure I could recreate it given time but it was a huge thing for me when I did it! My personal fighting style tends toward Zeus's Aegis, mixed with Athena, and just... not getting hit. So the heat modifiers that increase enemy speed, and the ones that give you a time limit, are ones that I avoid when playing on high heat - I can take most of anything else, but definitely not those two. Extreme Measures 3/4 that modify Theseus's and Hades's fights as well, because the fights get a lot harder to defend against.
I've done lots of stupid shit in Hades - in early access they initially had the fights so that boss hp could go under the threshold that triggers a phase if it was one big hit. Then they introduced Aphrodite's Wrath, and then it was Immediately Rectified when they discovered that the hydra could be killed instantly from above 50% health XD
(Early access had a lot of fun gems. You used to be able to turn up the damage to 15x the normal amount if you wanted, rather than the 2x that it is maxed at now, and let me tell you, doing that really incentivises one to not get hit!)
There've been runs that are attack/special/cast/dash only, I've done runs where only nonupgraded actions are allowed, so if say your special has a boon, you can't use it at all (even before pools of purging nor rerolling nor Sisyphus's current keepsake existed, so you were Stuck With It). Did a dashless run just to see if I could (it's possible with achilles's varatha, and I will say that varatha is my least used/proficient weapon) and when that apparently didn't sate my apparent masochism, a run where all the movement keys were disabled (that... that one was a pain). Attempted to escape on the very first run of a save, which I failed, but at least I got to see Theseus and Asterius! (Did manage it on run 3, to my and everyone else's surprise).
(The phrase 'oh god what have you done now' is a common one in reference to these shenanigans)
So, yeah! 41 heat was, an achievement! I'm kinda surprised that - save for one which mentioned 16 - none of the tags on that post went above 7 heat - how else are you gonna unlock the objectively best thing in this game? To put it in the words of one of my best friends:
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years ago
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is she gonna pop | m.izuku 
➳ tags ;; 18+, brat-tamer!deku agenda, unprotected sex, this is heavily focused on shibari and the fact deku is very strong, strength kink, punishment, deku calls u a fleshlight uh... fem!reader
➳ wc ;; 1.2k
➳  a/n ;; not the exact fic i wanted to post for our boyfriend / for @rat-zuki but that shit is taking much much longer than i anticipated and i wanted to post something within a reasonable time frame. consider this a bonus fic ig? 
happy late bday dekuuu 
➳  plot ;; izuku midoriya likes to let you have your way.  
shibari ref but ur hands r behind ur back. 
»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««
He lets you. 
Sometimes, as it would be, you forget about how he lets you act. It’s something you seem to forget - get accustomed to your sweet, loving Deku. The one who puts up with your attitude and coaxes you out of your bad moods with sweet words. After all, what’s a few out of place comments from his pretty girl. What’s some attitude, some annoyance if it means he gets to be sweet on you. 
Deku likes the attitude, that’s another part of it. When you make fun of him and you get that lovely over-confident attitude about what you’ve said. When you poke and pinch and prod at him. He likes the way you prance around with a dopey little grin on your face, so pleased by how he adjusts to you. He does it on purpose because he finds your bratting cute. 
He finds you cute and endearing so he lets you. Gives you silent permission to act the way you do and sighs when you misbehave. Lets himself be weak for you, gives you the power you seem to desperately crave so he can dote on you to his hearts content. 
He lets you. Deku the hero is too smart and too no bullshit to put up with something he doesn’t like but he likes the way you act with him. He likes your unpleasantries and the way you can’t handle affection - like a misbehaved cat. He’ll love you to the ends of the earth, uncaring. 
You’re not too difficult for someone as skillful as him. Someone so patient and kind and loving. Adoring, even. 
But.. 
There are always limits - and he seldom imposes them but they exist. He’s a hero and you’re.. you. They need to exist.  When he needs you to behave, he’ll tell you. Before your events, he’ll zip up your dress and help you get everything on - a whisper in your ear. It’s simple and plain. 
He’ll say it once and he’ll remind you once, those are the rules. With a hand on the lower part of your spine, he does it without an ounce of light-heartedness. A simple command he expects you to follow. 
“Behave,” 
It’s easy. Tonight, unlike most nights, you’re expected to be on your best behavior. No teasing, no bratting - just good behavior. It’s one night. He’ll even reward you. It’s so easy. He knows you can do it. You can behave, right? 
Of course you can, just one night. You can be good. 
Right?
It’s the disappointment that always sends your stomach churning. 
You’ve only ever seen him angry a handful at times and none of those times have ever been at you. But you can see he’s angry - jaw tense. It feathers as the rope dips underneath your thighs. The scratchy material makes you squirm. It covers every expanse of skin you’ve got on. You’re bare other than thin, cotton panties that to your dismay, do a good job of displaying how you feel. 
You’re turned on but anxious, heart-beating rapidly in your throat as he patiently ties you. With your legs folded up and your arms behind your back - you’re left completely immobile and at his disposal. This alone sends you reeling, the urge to run your mouth and relieve some of your anxiety every present. 
His green eyes, normally so affection, feel cold as they look over the knots. A little sob hiccups in your chest. A hand splays on your sternum as he holds you down. 
“Don’t move,” ― he commands, voice harsh and icy ― “I don’t have the patience. Move anymore and I’ll strap you down to the bed,” 
You go stiff as a board, a hollowness in your body at the way he treats you. It occurs to you briefly that you’re so stubborn. Frustrated, you open your mouth again. The words of a clumsy apology rush out of your mouth. Tears of upset making your vision blurry. 
“‘m sorry, sorry! Don’t punish me please.. dont want you to -” 
He grabs your face with his hands and sighs, leaning down to kiss you. It’s a sweet relief, kissing him back with such urgency. He gives it to you, that sweetness, only momentarily before pulling away. That warmth is gone, replaced by only what you could describe as sharpness. 
“What was my one rule for tonight, baby? Can you repeat it for me?” 
You tug your lower lip between your teeth. 
“B-behave,” 
“And what did you do?” he asks. His grip on your jaw tightens as you pout. 
“Misbehave,” 
He nods, letting go of you. Wordlessly, he finished tying the rest of the rope around your body. He places a large hand completely over your clothed sex, thumb brushing against the wet-spot. 
“You think, after acting like that during our dinner - my birthday dinner, and making a scene in front of everyone, that you shouldn’t be punished,” 
You shiver at the sound of his voice. Baritone and exasperated - mean. Nothing like you’re used to. 
“But I didn’t mean -” 
His hand comes down harsh on your cunt. A loud noise of surprise echoes in the room as he stares at you with a hardened glare. Your clit throbs underneath your panties as you gasp, fat tears pooling at your lashes. He sighs as he tugs your panties to up.
“I didn’t ask for your input,” ― he makes a show of making your panties scrunch up between your folds, before snapping the wet fabric back onto your cunt ― “Fleshlights don’t have mouths to speak, so don’t speak unless spoken too,” 
His cock is big, thick and heavy as it rests against your pussy. He lets the head brush against your swollen bundle of nerves but that’s as much pleasure as he lets you have. Without any prep, he spits onto it unceremoniously. He has enough patience to go slow but the stretch of it burns, aches but feels good too. It curves up - drags against your aching walls. He fucks you with a bated breath.
Without letting you get adjust to his size, he’s picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You let out a gasp with the confidence in which he holds you up. He holds you right where he wants before slamming his hips into you, cock brushing against your cervix. You feel your body go limp from pleasure, blood rushing to your head at the way he treats you. 
With his fingers dimpling into your skin, he fucks you without an ounce of concern. The room fills with the noise of his muscled hips, slamming against you. He meant what he said earlier about using you like a flesh-light. The pleasure is erratic, consistent but mean thrusts. It hits you with a bruising force as the rope struggles against your soft skin.  The force is enough to make you uneasy - but he holds you like it’s nothing. Fucks you like it’s nothing. 
It feels like hours pass, and Deku never loses his stamina. He goes again and again and again - and you feel yourself getting close after endless pounding. Overwhelmed by the strength of your impending orgasm - you choke on your words.
“C-c..umming, f-fuck,” 
You wail, loudly, as the pressure slowly falls back to nothing but aching. He shifts the weight of your body so he can spank you. He holds you up as you sob, immobile. Devastated. 
“Fleshlights, don’t cum either do they?” 
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adenei · 3 years ago
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Punctuality
Happy birthday @mina-roman!!!
Enjoy a little post war angst <3
Hermione was late. Again. Though Ron knew she never meant to be. 
She once explained when she was little, her parents said it was always the excuse of ‘just one more chapter.’ At Hogwarts, she’d lose track of time studying in the library. And now, with no windows to help her gauge the time of day and a clock inconveniently placed behind her workspace, Hermione was probably too absorbed in her case files to realize it was time to go.
If it was any other night, Ron wouldn’t care, but they were supposed to see each other tonight. He only had twelve hours leave from Auror training, and she promised they’d spend every minute of those twelve hours together.
A loud crack drew his attention from the window he was staring out of.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I was elbow-deep in parchment and I thought I had enough time to finish the report, but then I hit a snag and—”
“Save it, Hermione.” 
He didn’t want to fight with her, but if he’d known she was going to choose work over him, he wouldn’t have bothered with getting the time off in the first place. She froze, halfway to him with outstretched arms and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re two hours late.”
“I know, and I said I was sorry! I didn’t—”
“Have you ever thought that maybe sorry isn’t enough? Bloody hell, Hermione, this isn’t the first time this has happened. Do you even know how much trouble I went through to get this twelve-hour leave to see you? And you’ve fucking wasted two hours because you don’t know how to check the time!”
Hermione flared her nostrils and set her jaw. “Sometimes I have things I need to finish. It was either get the report done tonight or have to leave early tomorrow to make sure it ends up on Montague’s desk in time.”
“What? Is the trial tomorrow?” Ron scoffed.
Hermione stamped her foot in frustration. “Stop being ridiculous! I supported your decision to join the Aurors even though I knew it’d mean we’d be separated from each other for the better part of three years. The least you could do is support me in my own endeavors!” 
“I do! But not when we make arrangements to see each other and you can’t even bother to owl me that you’ll be late! I could have had dinner with my parents. But no, I’ve been sitting here for the past two hours, bloody starving, waiting for you to show up!”
“Oh, sure, that’s the reason you’re upset! Merlin forbid I interrupt your meal schedule!” Hermione let out a derisive laugh and threw her hands in the air. “Well, I’m sure it’s not too late if you’d rather spend the evening with your parents. Then I can go back to the office and get a headstart on next week’s—”
Ron leapt out of his chair and grabbed Hermione by the arm in one swift movement. “Don’t you bloody dare.”
“Why not? I’m clearly not everything you hoped for in a girlfriend.” 
She tried but failed to shake her arm free. Tears shone in her eyes but her gaze didn’t back down from Ron’s. And just like that, his anger melted into guilt. His tone softened as he pulled her closer.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I love you just the way you are.”
“Even if I’m late sometimes?”
Ron sighed. “Yeah, but I’d prefer it if you weren’t.” 
“You do realize that’s not loving someone just the way they are if you want them to change, right?” Hermione burst into laughter. 
“I’m not asking you to change. Just set some limits when it comes to work. When I’m finally done with Auror training, I’m not going to want to share you with paperwork on the nights we have off together.”
Hermione smiled as she trailed her fingertips up his arms, sending shivers down his spine. “I think that can be arranged.”
“I love you.” Ron leaned in and pressed a long-overdue kiss to her lips.
“I love you too. Now, what do you say we make the most of your remaining time off?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
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writingonsaturn · 3 years ago
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Better Unsaid
a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol 
summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....
ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))
  --
His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile. 
“Come on, that was funny.” 
Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.
“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.” 
Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?” 
“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.” 
“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around. 
I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year. 
“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.” 
I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right. 
“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--” 
“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.” 
My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.” 
He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?” 
“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.” 
Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.” 
The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed. 
“What do you want?” 
Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.” 
Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking. 
“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?” 
His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”
Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.” 
“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.” 
I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything. 
“What is it?” 
He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?” 
I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel. 
“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.” 
He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.” 
Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--” 
“I’d feel more assured.” 
Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.” 
...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.” 
Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.” 
He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick. 
“What are you doing?” 
“What you asked.”
And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label. 
It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father. 
Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings? 
This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” 
The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?
I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.” 
His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow. 
I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.” 
“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.” 
The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.” 
“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”
I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent? 
Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?” 
“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.” 
I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.” 
“Really?” 
The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek. 
I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”
“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.” 
“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.” 
“Really?” 
“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.” 
His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--” 
“I’m not wrong.” 
He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?” 
“Happy that I won? Absolutely.” 
Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.” 
“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.” 
“Not if I kick you off the bed first.” 
I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?” 
“I’m older than you.” 
“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.” 
He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.” 
I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body. 
“Y/n?” 
I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?” 
“You’re being quiet.” 
“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.” 
I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.” 
Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.” 
I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep. 
I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him. 
My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine. 
“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words. 
The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.” 
He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.” 
My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.” 
“Now you’re sure?” 
The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 
“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.” 
“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.” 
He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.” 
The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine. 
--
A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up. 
Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously. 
Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare.  I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently. 
“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”
 My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me. 
“Y/n, I--” 
“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.” 
His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once. 
I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?” 
Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I  thought I had lost you.” 
A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.” 
His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand. 
I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.” 
“You can’t promise things like that.”
I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.” 
Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 
“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 
“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--” 
“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” 
“If anything ever happened to y--” 
“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--” 
He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?” 
“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”  
Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage. 
“Y/n?” 
I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him. 
“Yes?”
He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?” 
I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares. 
“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?” 
He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.” 
The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--” 
“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--” 
“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.” 
"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?” 
“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.” 
“You could never be.”
It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?” 
“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.” 
I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”
His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?” 
Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.” 
Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.” 
“I am not tired.” 
“I can see the sleep in your eyes.” 
“I can see it in yours too.” 
He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”
He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.” 
Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know. 
I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.
Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest. 
I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?” 
“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.” 
That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”  
“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.” 
Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.” 
“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight. 
It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips. 
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fanfic-me-up · 4 years ago
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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki
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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 😉”
5K notes · View notes
seungmoroll · 3 years ago
Text
Stray Kids Fraternity | Han Jisung
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Word count: 5,073
Genre & warnings: mentions of alcohol, cheating, cuss words, friends to lovers
A/n: this is the first post for my new series. if you guys like this, please be sure to check out the other parts of the series once they’re posted here: x
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        The last thing you wanted was to see your crappy ex, Younghoon, tonight. All you wanted was to let loose and have some fun, but no, his presence alone has ruined your night. You thought that when Chan, the president of the frat house next door, invited you to their party that you were going to have fun and get drunk, but instead of having fun, you’re just slightly buzzed and wallowing in self-pity.
        Honestly, there wasn’t even any reason for you to be like this. You were the one who broke up with him, but then again, he did break your heart by cheating on you with some random girl. However, seeing him with some other girl all over him made you so upset, that any part of you having fun that night was thrown out the window.
        Deciding that you needed another drink, you go into the kitchen to see what’s available. Too busy observing your options, you fail to notice Changbin walking up to you, “Hey there, looking for anything in particular?”
        “Something to make me forget?”
        Cocking an eyebrow at you, he asks you, “Rough day?”
        “Something like that.”
        “Don’t worry, I got just the right thing for you.” As Changbin makes this concoction for you, you watch as some random people play beer pong. You realize now that two of them are Jisung and Hyunjin, two guys that are part of the fraternity.
        “Here,” Changbin says as he hands you your cup. Taking a sip, you choke from the burn of your throat, “Gosh, Changbin, what the hell is in this?”
        “Uh, a little bit of everything?” Shrugging, you take another sip and let Changbin lead you back to the rest of the party. The two of you settle in a little nook, watching Jisung and Hyunjin win at beer pong.
        “Whoo! Another win for the boys!” Jisung cheers, “Who’s up for another round?”
        Shaking his head, Hyunjin backs away from Jisung, “I’m at my limit dude, I’m tapping out.”
        “But who’s gonna play with me now?” Jisung asks with a pout on his face. Eyes searching the room, Jisung spots Changbin, and a grin forms on his face, “Hyung!” Cutting in before Jisung can attempt to rope him in a match, Changbin says, “I’m not playing, Jisung.” Another pout forms on his face.
        Deciding to step out of your comfort zone, you volunteer yourself, “I’ll play.” This causes for the two men to look at you. “Well, well, look who’s stepping out of their comfort zone.”
        Rolling your eyes at Jisung, you playfully push him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” IT wasn’t like Jisung was a stranger to you. You have been invited over to their frat house plenty of times, and were well acquainted with everyone in the frat, heck, you could even call them your friends. Well after the large argument between you and Younghoon the night of your breakup, most of the guys, including Jisung, happened to hear everything, so you definitely could say that they knew a lot about you. Looking at the cups set up on the table, you ask, “Who’re we going against?”
        “Us.” You and Jisung both turn towards the sound of the voice, and your blood runs cold when you see that it’s Younghoon and that chick from earlier.  Sensing the tension between you and Younghoon, Jisung says, “Let’s get this thing started then.”
        You couldn’t say that you were the best at beer pong, but luckily for you, Jisung was. What annoyed you the most throughout the game however, was that every time Younghoon made a shot, the girl he was with would throw herself all over him. Honestly, it made you want to barf. Fortunately, Jisung’s presence made things a little bit better.
        As the game nears to the end, both sides are left with one cup each. It’s your turn to make the shot, and all you want to do is wipe the smirk off that jackass’ face. So with all your determination, you toss the ping pong ball and watch as it makes it way to the other side of the table. When the ball hits the rim of the cup, you hold your breath, and when it lands inside the cup, your breath is knocked out of you when Jisung lifts you up into a bone crushing hug. “Oh hell yeah! That’s my Y/n! Yo Hyunjin, I don’t need you anymore. Y/n’s my new beer pong partner now.”
        Although Younghoon’s presence may have ruined a part of your life, you could say that being around Jisung made it a bit better, or maybe it was just all the alcohol you managed consume. Either way, you enjoyed living next door to a frat house.
        The next time the frat boys throws a party is a month later, and of course you show up, but this time you brought your friend Yeji. However, you’re starting to think that was a mistake because she made you dress up this time. Last time you had just shown up in jeans and a nice shirt, but this time she was making you go all out. “C’mon Y/n, you told me that last time you saw Younghoon. Don’t you want to make him regret cheating on you?”
        Sitting on your bed, you ponder her question. You don’t dress up often, but you guessed it couldn’t hurt to do so this one time, and if Younghoon happened to be at tonight’s party and he happens to se you then so be it. Getting up, you make it known to Yeji that you weren’t letting her dress you up because of a stupid boy, but because you wanted to look good and confident. Your response causes for her to clap in excitement and then she drags you into your closet to begin the process.
        Once the two of you arrive next door, you are greeted by Jisung, “Oh hey Yeji, hey Y/n,” quickly observing your look, “You look different Y/n.” Cutting you off before you could say anything, Yeji excitedly asks, “Don’t they look hot?”
        Squirming underneath Jisung’s gaze, your eyes widen when he says, “Yeah, they do.” Motioning towards the kitchen, “Can I get you guys anything to drink?”
        The two of you let Jisung lead you towards the kitchen, where you see Younghoon and a different girl from last time conversing by the kitchen counter. Ignoring Younghoon’s gaze, you stand in front of all drinks, pondering your options. Sliding behind you, Jisung gently wraps an arm around your waist to get to the other side of you, where he grabs a beer for himself and picks up another to see if you wanted one. Gladly accepting the offer, you take a swig of it, disliking the taste, but drinking it anyways.
        You realize that Jisung is talking to you, but with the heavy bass of the music and the loud voices of people, you’re unable to understand anything that he’s saying. Realizing that you couldn’t hear him, Jisung steps closer to you and talks into your ear, “You up for being my partner at beer pong again?” Honestly, you weren’t really in the mood for too much drinking tonight, but you just realized the Yeji has already left your side and you’re really starting to hate the feeling of Younghoon’s gaze on you, so you pull back from Jisung and offer your hand to him, saying to him, “Lead the way.” He happily takes your hand and leads you to the table.
        The two of you only play one game together, but you still have fun because you loved the look on Chan’s and Changbin’s face as you and Jisung won. Fortunately for you, the two men sucked at beer pong, so you didn’t have to drink much, and even when they did manage to land a ball in one of your cups, Jisung had offered to take the drink; saying something along the lines of him being too thirsty. Silently you had thanked him.
        Hours go by when you and Yeji finally meet up again, and she’s on the verge of passing out. Deciding that you should bring her back to your place, you take your leave, but before you could go, Jisung catches you and tells you that he’ll walk the two of you back to you place, saying that he needed a bit of fresh air.
        The short walk back to your place is filled with comfortable silence, sans the noise from the party. Having Jisung help you with the door, you throw a passed out Yeji onto you couch, turning to Jisung you thank him for the help and for making the night fun for you.
        Waving you off, he says, “Nah, there’s no need to thank me, I didn’t do much anyways. Plus, I like having you around, so of course I gotta make it seem like us frat guys are fun.” He sends you a wink as you chuckle at him. Walking Jisung to your door, you bid him a good night, with a small smile on he face, he looks you in the eyes, “Good night Y/n.”
        The next time you see Jisung isn’t at one of their frat parties, it’s actually during an unexpected situation.
        It’s Tuesday morning when you decide that it’s too early in the morning for there to be someone ringing your doorbell. Checking through the peephole to see who the unwanted guest, you roll your eyes when you see Jisung. Opening up the door, the first thing Jisung says is, “So like here’s the thing, our water pipes are busted and I really need to take a shower. Can I use yours?” You contemplate for a moment on whether you should shut the door on Jisung’s face or not, but choosing to ignore the devil on your shoulder, you open the door widely, allowing room for Jisung to enter your house.
        As Jisung uses your shower, you take the opportunity to make the two of you breakfast. Humming and dancing around as you get everything set up. While you were busy flipping the pancakes, your doorbell rings once again, but before you could go see who it was, you hear Jisung call out, “I’ll get it!”
        When Jisung opens up the door he isn’t expecting to see your ex on the other side. Confused, Younghoon gives Jisung a once over and asks, “Is Y/n here?”
Crossing his arms across his chest, Jisung leans against the doorway, “They’re a bit busy right now.”
        Annoyed by his response, Younghoon says, “Well could you tell them that I’m here and that I need to talk to them right now?”
        Rubbing his fingers on his chin, seeming as if he was giving your ex’s request a thought, Jisung replies, “I could…but I won’t.” With the being said, Jisung makes an attempt to shut the door on your Younghoon’s face, but he slams his hand against the door and says, while gritting his teeth, “Look here you piece of-“
        “Jisung? Who’s at the door?” you ask from behind Jisung.
        “It’s no one.”
        “It’s Younghoon.” Both men say at the same time.
        Pushing Jisung aside, you widen the door to see your ex. “What do you want?” you ask him in an uninterested tone.
        “I wanted to come and talk to you, Y/n.”
        “Well then talk.” He looks over at Jisung, who’s been hovering over your shoulder glaring at him. “In private.”
        “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of Jisung and if that bothers you then you can just head on home and not talk to me ever again.”
        Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he brings to say, “I wanna get back together, Y/n. What I did was mistake-“ You stop him mid-sentence by raising your hand in the air, “Let me stop you right there Younghoon. If that’s what you came all the way down here for then I’m sorry, but I have no intentions of getting back together with you. If that is all, then enjoy your day, goodbye Younghoon, for good.” Closing the door, your lean against it, eyes shut, taking a moment to process everything. You even managed to forget about a certain frat boy’s presence.
        “I’m proud of you Y/n.” Opening your eyes, you turn to glare at Jisung, “Did you really have to answer my door like that?” you motion to his body. Looking down at his own body, Jisung says to you, “What’s wrong with this?”
        “Jisung, you’re literally only in a towel right now.” Said towel was the only thing covering Jisung and it was hanging low on his hips. “And your chest is still wet, it’s like you didn’t even bother to dry up.”
        “Hey, don’t act like you aren’t enjoying the view right now. You better take it all in because not everyone gets to see this. Plus, I’m sure your ex is making up all kinds of situations as to why I’m like this in your house.” Jisung does ridiculous poses to show off his physique.
        Sighing and making your way back to your kitchen, you say to him, “The last thing I need right now is for him to think that we’re together or whatever.” Jisung follows you into the kitchen, “Hey what’s wrong with thinking that we’re together?”
        “Lots of things are wrong with thinking that. Now go and put on some real clothes so we can eat breakfast together.” You shoo him towards the bathroom as you set up your breakfast plates.
        When Jisung returns, this time in actually clothing, he sits down at the kitchen island in front of his plate and says, “You know, this is a pretty domestic scene: you making breakfast for the two of us while I get ready in the morning. I think I can get used to this.”
        Jisung’s unnecessary comment makes a slight blush form on your face, causing for you to mumble to him, “Shut up and eat your pancakes.” You choose to ignore the smug look on his face as you stuff yours with pancakes.
        The next morning, Jisung is knocking at your door once again, and when you open it up, he asks to use your shower again. Playing the nice neighbor, you let him inside, asking him when their pipes will be fixed as he makes his way to your bathroom. “Uh I don’t know. They say it may take a week or two, or something like that.”
        “I like the body wash that you use by the way. It smells good.” Jisung comes out from the hallway, towel drying his hair. This time he has pants on, but just like yesterday, he’s wet and shirtless. Taking a seat by the kitchen island, he watches as you maneuver around the kitchen.
        “And why exactly did you use my body wash?” Being a good host, you place a piece of toast with avocado on a plate and slide it towards Jisung. He happily accepts it, take a bite, and answers your question, mouth still full of food, “I forgot to bring mine with me.”
        “So what’re you up to today?” He waits for your answer as he chugs down the glass of water. You proceed to tell him that you didn’t have class that day, so you were going to
        Because of the damage to the water pipes at the frat house, Jisung continues to come over to your house to use the shower for the rest of the week. In the short span of time that he’s constantly been over to your house, he’s inserted himself in your daily routine. If you were to be honest with yourself, you liked the change that he brought into your life. He’s managed to figure out your schedule; knows when it’s a good time to come over and stays a little bit afterwards to hang out and talk to you. Sometimes in the mornings, you’ll make breakfast for the both of you, whether it be a bowl of cereal or waffles. Though he still likes to parade around your house wet and shirtless, which you do your best to ignore, but that’s kind of hard when Jisung’s abs look the way they do.
        There are even times when he doesn’t need to shower, but he’ll show up at your house anyway. You’re not too sure if you like the fact that the two of you have become so comfortable with one another over the span of a week.
        One morning you had woken up earlier than usually and decided to go out and sit on your front porch, mug in hand. Taking in the beauty of the natural world, you hear the sound of a door closing. Turning, you see Minho, a mug also in his hand, still dressed in his pajamas. “Hey neighbor,” he raises up his mug to greet you.
        Smiling and doing the same, you say, “Good morning Minho. Early morning?”
        “Nah, I’m always up this early. There’s something about the fresh morning air that gets me going. The question is: why are you up this morning?” Leaning across the porch railing, he takes a sip from his mug.
        “Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d go out here and enjoy all of this.” The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, embracing the morning air.
        Suddenly, a question pops into your brain, catching Minho’s attention, you ask him, “Hey, where are you and the others washing up if your place’s pipes are broken?” Confused, Minho cocks an eyebrow at you, “What’re you talking about? Our pipes were fixed hours after they were broken.”
        This was news to you, “What did you just say?” Getting up from your porch swing, “Did you just say that they were fixed?”
        Nodding his head, “I did.”
        “That son of a bitch,” you muttered to yourself. The new information changed your perspective on everything. Essentially, Jisung had been freeloading off of you for this entire week, and for what? You didn’t know. All you knew was that Jisung had been increasing your water bill for no reason at all, and that you were going to murder him.
        “Minho, why the hell has Jisung been coming over to my house to take showers if your pipes have been fixed for a week now?”
        Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, “I don’t know, maybe it has to do with the fact that your house has you in it and ours doesn’t?”
        His response wasn’t the answer that you were expecting. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
        Separating himself from the railing, he goes on to say, “I think you’re a smart person, Y/n. Figure it out.” Giving you one last smirk, he turns and goes back into the house, leaving you standing outside on your porch looking like an idiot.
        It’s been two hours since your conversation with Minho, and you still can’t get over the fact that Jisung has been lying to you this entire time. Looking at the time on your phone, you see that Jisung should be coming over sometime soon. Once he knocked on your doors, you were determined to get an answer out of him.
        Five minutes later the sound of knocking can be heard. Getting up from your spot on the couch, you make your way to the door. The sight in front of your eyes as you open the door is Jisung with a bright smile on his face. Seeing his face, you scoff as you walk away from the door. Shutting the door, Jisung says, “Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
        “Actually, I woke up feeling great, that is until I had a little talk with Minho and found out something interesting. Do you want to know what it was?” From the tone of you voice, Jisung had a slight feeling of where this conversation was going. “You talked to Minho hyung? What did you find out?”
        “Oh nothing major, just the fact that your pipes have been fixed for a week now.” Jisung avoids your gaze as he thinks of a way to explain the situation to you. “So you see..” His sentence falters.
        “Go on.”
        Sighing, “Look, I could go on and come up some ridiculous excuse as to why I continued your shower, but I’m sure you wouldn’t like that, so here’s the truth: I like spending time with you, Y/n. After the first morning where you made me pancakes, I thought it was the best way for us hang out and get to know each other. At first I just thought of you as our cute neighbor, and then I saw you with Younghoon at one of our parties, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you. So yeah, you piqued my interest, and I used the situation to my advantage. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.”
        His confession was unexpected to you, but it explains what Minho had meant earlier. You were completely speechless; you didn’t know what to say to Jisung. All the anger that you had previously held disappeared and was replaced by a feeling that you couldn’t describe. Too many thoughts ran through your head, and Jisung could sense it, something that you hated because he always knew your silent cues.
        “This is probably too much for you to process this early in the morning, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to reciprocate my feelings or whatever. I just hope that this doesn’t make things awkward between us because like I said, I like hanging out with you, and so do the other guys in the hous, and if you want, I’ll reimburse you the cost for your water bill, just let me know how much it’ll be.” Looking back at the door, he says, “I guess I should go, huh?” till processing the scene, you nod, and without another word Jisung leaves your house.
        It’s been a week since you discovered the news about the pipes and Jisung’s feelings, and you’ve managed to avoid seeing any of the frat guys. You didn’t want to ignore them, maybe Jisung, but you just wanted time to process everything, including your feelings for Jisung.
        Of course you liked Jisung, he had a great personality, was a funny guy and he was easy on the eyes, but did you romantically like him? That you weren’t sure about. So you tried to think about all the small things that Jisung and even tried to imagine the two of you together.
        You had a love/hate relationship with the fact that he could easily read you. You liked it because it meant that you didn’t have to voice things out but hated it because you weren’t sure how he was able to read you. You also liked the fact that things were easy with him because you knew that it was sometimes hard for you to open to people, but with him you didn’t have a problem with it at all. When it came to you thinking of romantic scenarios with him, you weren’t disgusted by the thought of him taking you out on dates, or the two of you cuddling.
        Confiding in your best friend, Yeji, you tell her everything, in hopes of her helping you clear your muddy thoughts. “Bestie, it sounds like to me that you like Jisung.”
        “Does it?”
        Tsking in disapproval, she asks you, “Now why do you sound disappointed Y/n?”
        “It’s just that the last time I liked a guy and was in a relationship with hi, he cheated on me, and I just don’t want to get hurt like that again.” Ever since Younghoon you were too scared to get back into the dating scene, and you hate him for ruining things for you.
        “Look, I know you’re scared, but you really like Jisung, don’t you?”
        You were afraid to admit it to yourself, but you did. “I do, Yeji.”
        “Then be with him. For that week that he was constantly in your life, I saw a new side to you. I could tell that you were happier, and that’s all I want for you; to be happy.” At times like this, you were really glad that Yeji was your best friend. You don’t know where you’d be without her.
        “You’re right. I should tell him how I feel. The guys are going to have a party tonight, so I’ll go over and talk to him.”
        “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you, Y/n. Oh and just remember that if he hurts you in any way that I’ll happily beat him up for you.” Laughing, you knew that she was serious as she had managed to land a punch on Younghoon’s face when she found out that he cheated on you. “I love you Yeji.”
        “I love you too, now go get your mans.”
        Later on that day when you entered the frat house, you were determined to proceed with your mission. You walk around the house looking for a particular person. As you wander through the house, you see familiar faces that you haven’t seen in a while. Chan catches your eyes as he DJs and gives you that famous smile of his. You spot a drunk Felix clinging onto Jeongin on the couch. You knew that you were stalling yourself from what you were aiming to do tonight, and with the look that Minho was giving you, he could tell to. Mouthing the words, “Just go for it,” you use his words as encouragement and make your way out to the backyard.
        Chan had made it a rule that beer pong was to now only be played outside since the last party resulted in a broken table and a lot up napkins. You kind of appreciated the new rule because it gave you a lot more air to breathe. Shutting the door that led to the backyard, you spot a familiar figure in the middle of a winning game. Not wanting to disturb, what he calls “vibe”, you watch as Hyunjin makes the opponents chug their last cup. Celebrating their win, Jisung and Hyunjin bump their chests together, ‘what a bunch of barbarians,’ you thought to yourself. Your presence doesn’t go unnoticed once the two boys pull away and Hyunjin spots you. Catching Jisung’s attention, he motions towards you, and for the first time that night, the two of you lock eyes.
        Using this as your chance to talk to him, the two of you walk towards one another, meeting up in the middle. Unable to look Jisung in the eyes, you focus on the red cup in his hand. “There’s something I want to say to you.” Not saying anything to you in response, Jisung pulls you towards a quieter area, which happened to where a swing set was located.
        By the look on your face, Jisung could tell that you were questioning it, “Felix wanted a swing set, and what Felix wants, Felix gets.” Finding the reason quite reasonable you nod your head, and take a seat on the swing, Jisung following in suit.
        Gathering your thoughts, you focus on the ground, “Jisung-“
        “Y/n-“ The two of you say each other’s name at the same time, awkwardly laughing it off. Jisung motions for you to go first.
        Taking a deep breathe, you decide to just tell him the truth, “So I’ve been thinking about everything for the past week, and at first I was just unsure about things, unsure about my feelings for you. Ever since Younghoon and I broke up, I’ve been too scared to get back into a relationship with anyone, fearing that I’m just going to get hurt again. And about a week ago, I had only saw you as a friend, but as I managed to collect my thoughts, I think it’s safe to say that I like you, Jisung.”
        Being that one of his skills was to read you, Jisung could tell that it took you a lot to admit this too him, especially the part of your fear. “Y/n, I promise you that I would never do anything to hurt you. I want to be the reason for your happiness, not your tears. The hyungs would kill me if I ever hurt someone like you. Also, you think?”
        Shaking your head, “I know that I like you. I also know that I can trust you.” Eyes still on the ground, you hear the sounds of chains rubbing against each other, and you realize that Jisung is now facing you. Softly placing a hand on your hand that was holding onto the chain, he maneuvers you to face him. With his other hand, he places it below your chin, making you lift your head and look him in the eyes, “I think I like this shy side of you.”
        “You think?” You ask, repeating his previous question.
        Chuckling, he responds, “I know. I also know that I really want to kiss you right now, so Y/n, can I kiss you right now?” Nodding your head, you lean forward towards Jisung. The kiss is short and sweet, and when the two of you pull apart, you hear familiar voices cheer aloud. Turning your heads, you and Jisung realize that you guys had an audience. Too embarrassed you lean forwards and bury your face into Jisung’s chest, something that you didn’t realize you wanted to do until now.
        One morning, months after you and Jisung have gotten together, while you were over at the frat house, in the middle of eating breakfast with the boys, Jeongin had ask Jisung, “So in your mind, you thought that by parading around Y/n’s house with nothing but a towel, that they would suddenly be interested in you?”
        Shamelessly Jisung responds, “Uh, yeah, and it worked, didn’t it babe?”
        Smacking Jisung in the face, you say to him, “You idiot, although I did enjoy the view, your abs aren’t the reason why I like you, but now that I’m thinking about it, they may be the reason why I stayed.” The other guys laugh at your response as Jisung pouts at you. Kissing his pout away, you reassure him that you like everything about him, “Plus I’m your beer pong partner, who else is going to drink everything for me?”
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A/n: my fav part while writing this was the first morning Jisung came over, it’s what inspired me to come up with the skz frat series
what do you guys think of the series so far? id love to hear your thoughts & opinions as feedback is always welcomed!
I have a tag list for this series, so pls let me know if you would like to be added to it:)
masterlist
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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago
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(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)
Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 1)
Pairings: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Colossus x Shadowcat
Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, you and your boyfriend Peter are on a double date downtown with your fellow X-Men Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) and Kitty Pryde (Shadowcat) when Deadpool and Russell arrive unexpectedly. Chaos and violence naturally ensues, including taking down mafia henchmen, dealing with news media and paparazzi who circle in with the action, and a jealous Peter. This will be concluded in Part 2 with the mixed reactions of Logan, Charles, and Erik when you all bring Wade and Russell back home, etc. 😄
Notes: For simplicity’s sake as Piotr R. is normally called “Peter” as well, he’ll just be referred to as Colossus here.
Warnings: Some alcohol use. And it’s Deadpool, so a lot of cursing and irreverent jokes of course. This started out as just crack!fic that became actual fic that had to be split into two parts because it hit post limit. Holy cow.
Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist
—————————
Kitty all but snorted, trying to put her drink back down on the table before it could end up fully sideways instead as her laughter left her trembling.
Colossus sighed quietly, but you could still see the warmth in his eyes as he looked down at her before helping dab up some of her errant wine off the table with a thick cloth napkin.
It was late Friday night, and save for your semi disapproving, large and very Russian designated driver, the other three of you were now several drinks deep and a bit too loudly enjoying Peter’s retelling of the Led Zeppelin cover band debacle. You’d been there with him that night, but it never got old the way Peter told it.
“I shit you not, and this guy still keeps hitting on Jean.” Peter continued, his third nearly empty glass of craft beer still in hand. “Scott’s about to fry the dude. They’re playing Immigrant Song, and these lasers start up. All dudebros in the club go wild, and Scott tries to sneak off a warning shot. Freaking air balls it! I have to move like forty people and it still blows a damn hole in the wall. But nobody even noticed! Fake Robert Plant is screaming his heart out and everybody is just eating it up. I swear my Dad could have flown in there, cape billowing and they still would have thought it was part of the show!”
You were at risk of being elbowed in this small restaurant booth, with how animated Peter was as he spoke beside you. But you didn’t mind. The lighting was dim, possibly verging on romantic, the smell of good food from the kitchen reminded you of what was to come, and you were just enjoying time with some of your favorite people.
When Peter did finally drop his hand again though, the not so subtle movements of it then up your thigh also promised something much more personal later tonight. Maybe it was the warmth from the mixed drinks you were also nursing, but you shifted your leg a little, pushing even more into his touch under the table. Your movement just signaled your silent agreement to him that tonight would be a perfect night to be throwing clothes on the floor as soon as you got back to your shared room at the mansion.
It’d been a long, tiring week after all. Helping teach classes during the day and training your ass off in the danger room every night, you didn’t think it was unreasonable to cut loose a bit now.
Even Colossus was chuckling a little at last, but the big guy was always softest around Kitty. You in particular had been one of her biggest supporters when she’d first confessed her attraction towards him. You’d noticed his bashfulness with her as well, and all the little glances he’d given her long before she’d ever worked up the courage to ask him out.
But that seemed so long ago now, it was hard to really remember a time when they weren’t together. Almost as long as you and Peter really.
You glanced up as the waiter came back by to check on you all, saying your food would be out in a few more minutes and asking if anyone needed more drinks.
“Oh gosh, we’re really running up the tab right?” Kitty smiled.
You could see the little bit of relief in Colossus’ expression as she waved the waiter off though, her current wine glass still nearly full. “I’m fine for now, thank you.”
Peter glanced at you and you nodded as well. A buzz was fine, but you didn’t want to be climbing the mansion stairs full on drunk tonight. “I’m good.”
As the waiter left, your conversation got a little more subdued. You leaned into Peter somewhat, hip to hip in the booth as he put his arm around your waist.
Kitty was now talking about a movie she thought you should all go see next weekend if you could. You were just in the process of agreeing as you’d wanted to see it too, when Colossus suddenly went stock still, a look of real surprise on his face.
Kitty evidently noticed as soon as you did, you both staring up at him in unison.
“Do not turn around,” He instructed to you and Peter, eyes locked on something behind you.
Of course when told to do one thing, it would take everything in Peter’s willpower to not do the opposite. But to his credit he actually did hesitate. “Do we need to be dodging something? I mean, I can move us if I need to, man. You just gotta let me know.” Peter stated.
“I don’t think he’s seen us yet. Please do not draw attention.” Colossus responded, still frustratingly vague to the rest of you.
But he hadn’t metaled up yet, his skin still entirely human looking. So on the plus side, it couldn’t be someone he thought an immediate physical threat.
You glanced to Kitty for some hope of explanation as she was seated beside Colossus and facing the same direction. But she was too short in comparison to him, and couldn’t see all the way across the booth dividers as easily as he could. “Well who is it?” Kitty demanded quietly.
But you heard an impatient voice carry over clearly from the nearby restaurant entrance.
“Look, you know he’s here. I know he’s here. Don’t make me leave you guys a bad Yelp review. I will totally Karen that shit up. I’m just here for him.” A pause. “...And some of the cannolis. God, I love those things. You went a little scarce on the filling last time though. Don’t make me add that to the Yelp review.”
You heard the hostess stutter, fear evidently building. “Sir, firearms are not allowed in this restaurant. The owner, he, I...I can’t.”
There was a loud sigh from the man, the distinct sound of a gun cocking, and then all hell broke loose.
“WADE!” Colossus screamed, your entire table flipping as he stood up, metal now encasing him in this even larger form.
Abruptly you were now standing back by the entrance yourself. Peter had one arm around you, and the other around Kitty as he let you both go just as instantly, having just brought you there before he disappeared again.
That little flare up of vertigo from the speed and sudden stop didn’t mix well with the alcohol, and she and you both stood there another moment, queasy as Peter appeared again with an armful of guns.
It would have been comical as he clearly had no idea where to put them now, but everyone else that had still been in the restaurant was already screaming and running for the doors in a panic.
The owner of the multiple guns couldn’t care less about the crowd however, only turning his full focus to the lot of you then in exasperation.
“Oh my God, you anti second amendment, mother fuckers. I’m in the middle of a job here!”
“You can’t just point guns at innocent people, Wade! We have talked about this many times!” Colossus retorted, all seven foot of him now standing over Deadpool with paternal like annoyance.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s called a threat. I wasn’t going to kill her you overprotective, asshat! Now Giovanni is probably holed up in some pussy ass panic room, or he’s already ghosted me out the back door! And yes, I know that is such a stereotypical mob boss name and totally sounds like the Pokemon villain. Fuck him and his always trying to take Pikachu! He had a talking cat the whole time who just wanted his love, but no, got to have the electric rat. Fuck!”
“Language, Wade!” Colossus scolded. “There is still a child present!”
And honestly in all this insanity, that was the first time you actually noticed Russell also still standing there. Everyone else in the room had now fled out into the street.
“I’m fucking fourteen,” The boy replied defiantly. “And yeah, we were working!”
“Daddy and angrier metal daddy are just talking, hon.” Deadpool commented, waving a hand.
There was a small gust of air beside you and you looked to Peter knowingly. Wade’s guns were now all on a table, though intentionally still distant from your current position. “So I just made a couple laps.” Peter spoke up. “The cops are already coming, and there’s still a bunch of guys in the basement. They were opening some crates, probably getting weapons? I didn’t know if we were taking them out yet though. I didn’t touch anything. But is Giovanni like a big dude with gold rings and all?”
“I’m telling you besides the drug and human trafficking, it’s practically more criminal how much he sets back Italian-American stereotypes. They are an honest, manicotti making people goddamn it.” Deadpool answered.
You really were starting to regret the amount of drinks you’d had. If you’d known tonight was going to be anything like this, you would have gladly stuck to water. Your head was already trying to throb a little as you finally spoke. “So, does this guy actually have warrants out on him? If the cops come, they’re all going to end up shooting each other most likely. Can we just defuse this by giving him up to them?”
“I would say we assist to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, if that is the case, yes. I’m sure the Professor would prefer that.” Colossus agreed.
“Freaking goody two shoes, all of you.” Wade sighed. “But he has to get arrested or dead okay? I don’t get paid otherwise.” He paused though, then looking back up to Colossus before suddenly elbowing him. As if he’d even really feel that. “And hello rudeness, are you not going to introduce me to your little girls night out club here before we go bust some heads in a gratuitous X-Force/X-Men hotties crossover?”
“X-Force?” Kitty asked, sounding as already over this as could be.
“Well, we are a little empty on the roster at the moment. Some...unfortunate parachuting incidents. Wind advisory that day. You know how it goes.” Deadpool shrugged.
By her expression, no. She did not know how it went.
But the sooner you started, the sooner this could be over. Colossus motioned to each of you in turn, “Peter, (Y/N), and Kitty. These are my teammates and friends.” He nodded back to Deadpool, “And this is Wade.” And then to the boy. “And Russell.”
Of course you already knew who they both were. It’d been a bit of a scandal really, with the whole Essex House fiasco and the deaths that had occurred there. Fair or not, a lot of the blame had ended up on Juggernaut the second time around though you thought. Which is why Charles hadn’t had to deal with too much bad press in the aftermath.
You could not let this become another Essex House situation for the X-Men though. You were about to speak up about heading to the basement together and Deadpool staying out of your way so you all could neutralize everyone without any fatal hits, when he gasped dramatically, making you freeze again.
“Kitty!? Like an actual girl named Kitty? Oh my God, this whole time I thought you were his cat!” He hit his own leg, laughing. “I’m thinking, holy shit this guy loves his goddamn cat, but who am I to judge you know? I had a dog named Mr. Shuggums. Cutest little fucker.” He took a breath. “I miss him.”
“Wade.” Colossus groaned. “We do not have all night.”
Okay, so there was still something sweet about Colossus gushing about his girlfriend even to this manic mercenary. But no kidding, this show really needed to get on the road here.
“Guys, why don’t we just let Peter disarm them all, Colossus, you grab Giovanni, and Kitty and I deal with anyone who still resists? No one has to get hurt, and then it’s all done, easy.”
“And then we go find somewhere else to eat. Killing me here. I wanted that damn calzone and tiramisu.” Peter sighed, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes again. “More guns coming up.”
He disappeared at once, but when he didn’t return immediately as you were so accustomed to, you and Kitty exchanged a nervous look.
And after only another few seconds, your instincts told you something had definitely gone wrong.
“Is the basement directly beneath us?” You asked Deadpool sharply, already reaching out a hand to Kitty. Your adrenaline was starting, all good feelings gone as it was now time to act.
But you’d worked together long enough now, you didn’t have to explain your plan to her or Colossus.
Yet when the previously mouthy merc had no instant response, just staring at you in thought, it was clear he hadn’t done any recon beforehand at all. He’d literally just walked in here and expected everything to work out.
“Perfect.” Kitty said sarcastically, glancing quickly to Colossus as she took your hand. “You’re our backup, dear, in case our vertical entrance doesn’t work out. Come find us.”
“Always.” He said, already turning, his weight shaking the floor as he ran to look for any stairway downward while you and Kitty dropped straight through the floor.
It was surely a risk of its own to use her phasing ability so blindly as this. You could end up in a too small crawlspace, in underground piping, a sewer system, anything really. She’d make sure not to go solid until it was safe, as to not impale or bury you alive of course. But if Peter were in trouble, there was no time to waste by ending up at a dead end and having to go back up and try again.
You’d held your breath, as there was no way for you to process oxygen either as your lungs and every other part of you shifted through the other matter. It was darkness and insulation, pipes, and conduit that flashed by at first. But in the fractions of seconds that it took to fall, you had already powered up. The white light of your energy field overtaking your body, shielding you both as you did fall into a larger open area.
It was even darker than the restaurant above, all concrete and dampness. The glow from your body was the brightest thing there as much more men than you’d expected all turned in surprise. You saw the glint of multiple gun barrels now, but the thing you wanted to see most was Peter’s silver hair as you’d scanned the area for him instantly.
There was a stairwell in the distance. He was laying near the bottom of it. But you had no time to be shocked or afraid, only anger swelled as you released Kitty’s hand, making you solid again. “I’ll get him.” Was all you said. Letting her know to protect herself as you flew to him. Bullets couldn’t hurt her if she was ready for them. But Peter would be defenseless without one of you now, and by means of your power of flight you were the faster of you and her.
The man closest to Peter had a different kind of gun though you realized. Something you didn’t recognize at all as he aimed at you. You splayed your palms to create an energy shield in front of you as he pulled the trigger.
It didn’t make a sound though. But everything around you instantly distorted as pain exploded through you. You saw five or six of him now, as your feet hit the ground, unable to concentrate enough to fly then. But even as you stumbled, realizing your shielding wasn’t fully stopping whatever that weapon was doing, you were still able to expand your shield rapidly, hitting the man with the force of a car in your pain and sending him flying into a nearby wall, the weapon clattering to the ground lightly against his now limp body.
But you still felt like you were going to puke.
“Kill them you idiots!” Someone screamed.
You dropped yourself, laying over Peter just as quickly, grateful to feel him breathing as you focused through the pain to extend a shield around you both as the gunfire started.
“Bitch!” Another man yelled as Kitty just walked unharmed through all the flying bullets towards you.
“Shadowcat actually,” She said, skilled enough in her powers to choose what was solid and what wasn’t. Just the outside of her fist being all she needed to crush his nose in one punch with a squirt of blood, and only the end of her foot used as she swept her leg after to knock his own right out from under him.
Even among your own team, sometimes people could forget that that petite Jewish girl was about as skilled a martial artist as anyone could be.
“Babe?” You heard against your ear though, glancing back down to Peter. There was real relief even in the chaos as you saw him smile up at you.
He talked back against your ear in the noise as Kitty continued to utterly wreck the guys around you. “I fucked up a little, right? That gun...they already had it going, aimed at the door when I came back, a trap...I think I hit every stair on the way down...I still see like three of you right now.”
“Ditto.” You breathed.
And then there was another even louder noise as the remnants of a door also came flying down the stairs. Colossus barreled in behind it like a stampeding elephant, Deadpool right behind him as they leapt over the both of you and joined the fray.
“We found the basement!” Deadpool announced gleefully, swords swinging. “Don’t think they’d even locked the door back actually, but fuck if big Russki doesn’t love a dramatic entrance!”
For a moment you thought all your words about at least trying not to kill had been for nothing, thinking Deadpool was going to chop these men into literal pieces. But even as blood sprayed left and right, you realized he was just cutting tendons. The men then unable to hold their guns, unable to stand at all as he crippled each he reached in succession.
It was still completely horrific, but hell, how much could you really ask for from someone like him? Especially when you yourself had slammed that one man into a concrete wall as if he were a ragdoll. You glanced over anxiously for a moment, glad to see him shifting a little, but still crumpled exactly where you’d thrown him. He was alive, a small relief at least.
——————————
Obviously the other gunmen hadn’t had a prayer either though once you’d all been down there together.
Colossus already had a still cursing Giovanni slung over one shoulder as you were now helping Peter back up and trying not to step in all the blood as you all walked over to Kitty.
“What a mess...very interesting weapon though,” She spoke of that odd gun that’d been used on you and Peter, it now in her hands as she turned it one way and then another examining it. “I’m bringing this back with us. The police don’t need anything like this. Hank and I can figure out how it works. And how to defend against it hopefully before we run into another one of these out in the field.”
“It seems this Giovanni was more a threat than expected,” Colossus said, giving the still squirming man an unhappy look, before looking back to you all. “Are you alright, Peter?”
“I’m still hungry.” Peter grumbled, an arm over your shoulder to still help stabilize him as his other hand went to his head as if it were pounding. He also had some bruising starting on his face, no doubt from his tumble down the stairs. “I wouldn’t have drank so damn much if I’d known we weren’t going to eat...”
With the speed of his metabolism, that alcohol likely was hitting him pretty hard now on his already empty stomach.
“We should turn this guy over and get out of here.” You agreed. Though you didn’t feel so hot yourself. Still a little nauseous from whatever that weapon did to your senses. But at least you weren’t seeing triple of everything anymore.
“Hold it, girl scouts!” Deadpool piped up, chipper as ever as he grabbed something at Giovanni’s neck before any of you could think to stop him.
The man choked just a moment though, before a piece of metal snapped off into Wade’s hands. It was a necklace, with a symbol of some sort. You saw just a glimpse of it before Deadpool pocketed it. “No proof of finishing the job, no payday for DP. No payday, then no liquor, no coke, no hookers. Am I right?”
It was too difficult to tell when if ever he was serious, and you all chose to ignore his comment, starting back up the stairs. The odd sounds of bullet fragments falling back down the stairwell caught Peter’s attention though as he gave a grossed out look to Wade for a moment.
The now impact deformed bullets were starting to work themselves back out of all the bloody holes in Deadpool’s costume. You knew where you’d seen that before of course, but Peter was the only one that actually said it aloud.
“Damn, you and Logan would be a pair.”
There was a pause, and you could swear even with the mask, you thought you saw Wade’s cheekbones move in a way that signaled he was outright grinning from ear to ear. “At least someone gets it. He still won’t return my calls though. Such a diva lately.”
Once you did get to the top of the stairs, you only found a very agitated Russell standing there, Wade’s guns in his arms. “You took long enough, the cops are outside you know. I’m not going back to jail for you!”
“Cool your tater tots, kid.” Deadpool responded lazily, in no hurry, but grabbing the weapons back to holster them all regardless.
“I could have finished this faster! I would have fried their asses!” Russell argued.
“You would have been shot. Fire does not stop bullets.” Colossus only answered matter of factly.
Russell made a face, but Wade cut him off before he could say any more.
“Now now, listen to metal daddy. No sass. And actually, I think there’s something we should talk about, champ. X-Force is way more badass and all, but we don’t exactly have a training and junior member tier yet. Maybe later. You might want to think about riding home with these guys and checking their setup out. I don’t have any powers myself to relate to you like that, except me being very shootable, devastatingly charming, sexy, smart, and a competitive level Skee-Ball player...”
Deadpool sighed, continuing. “But these guys have a Danger Room. Which is totally not a sex dungeon, yeah I was bummed about that too. But they could let you unleash that school shooter level teenage angst and burn all the shit you wanted until you really figure out your powers.”
Russel bristled. “I’m not a school shooter you prick! And you always said the X-Men were neutered dweebs and-”
Wade coughed loudly, ushering Russell forward suddenly as you all continued to walk. “Hah, kids. Such darlings. Mishear everything don’t they?”
Colossus only answered without offense though. “The offer is still open, Russell. Though you have said no before. The Professor would never turn down a young mutant in need.”
It was Peter who surprised you a little, a smirk on his face as he contributed. “Freaking sweet house too, man. Xavier’s loaded. Big screen TV, a pool, basketball court, your own room, supersonic jet. Bunch of cute girls as well, or cute boys, you know whatever you’re into.”
“I’m not gay.” Russell huffed, but actually looked to be listening now as he didn’t immediately spit back with a sarcastic retort.
Though you gave Peter a weird look and he just grinned. “What? I stayed for you didn’t I, babe? Just saying. I wasn’t exactly on board with the whole team thing before that either. I know where he’s coming from is all.”
“It’s up to you, Russell.” Kitty said more diplomatically, before returning to the matter at hand. “We’re parked at that parking garage two blocks south. Everyone meet back there, Colossus and I will hand this guy over to the cops out front. The rest of you, I’m sure there’s got to be some emergency exit you can sneak out of. Probably better to split up actually. Less attention.”
—————————
Just as Kitty had suggested, Deadpool and Russell went out one way, and you and Peter another. You came out onto another street behind the restaurant. And you’d just finally started to relax again, Peter taking your hand in his own and walking away like an honest to God normal couple for once, just out on the town together before you noticed an oddly placed white van with distinct lettering on it.
Peter saw it too just as the light from a camera hit you both.
“Hell,” You breathed.
“Want to run?” He asked seriously.
“Too late, they’d just film us ditching, and say we had something to hide.”
Your headache was returning in full force you thought as you steeled yourself, seeing the reporter now in a full sprint towards you.
“It’s Quicksilver! And (your codename)! The X-Men are here!” A woman shouted.
As you walked closer to the news van, the camera flashes only increased. It looked like a small group of paparazzi had also camped out here, hoping for this exact result. How did word travel so damn fast?
“Marcia Fletcher, WAFN nightly news!” She introduced herself at once, her camera man there just as quickly, huffing a little from the run as he got you both in focus.
You could see the lights on on his camera as she shoved her microphone in front of you and Peter. “You’re on live coverage of the Ruffiano’s restaurant shootings with WAFN. Is it true that Giovani Marcello was apprehended here tonight by the X-Men? And how did you know he was here when he’s been on Interpol’s most wanted list for four years?”
You knew without looking at him that Peter was happily deferring the speaking role to you now as you tried not to look rattled. You attempted to think of what Charles would and wouldn’t want you to say, even with the pain in your head and lingering nausea. “We didn’t know who was here. We were in the area and saw people running and went to help, that’s all.” You lied.
“But the reports of gunshots, witnesses also said Deadpool had drawn a gun on a restaurant employee and Colossus was seen inside. Is Deadpool now affiliated with the X-Men again? Did he shoot anyone?”
“Deadpool is not affiliated with the X-Men. Colossus was here tonight, but he only would have been defending anyone he thought in danger. Deadpool did not shoot anyone.” You tried to keep to short truths that time.
“But then why was Deadpool there? Should people really believe it would be a coincidence that the X-Men and Deadpool would be at the same incidence at one time if not working together?”
“Well you’re here aren’t you? Are you affiliated with us?” You replied before you could stop yourself, though still restraining the annoyance you really wanted to put into that statement. “Trouble attracts a crowd.”
Peter made a sound, a restrained laugh you knew. But before the reporter could blurt out another question, one of the now growing number of paparazzi called out, “(Your codename), hey look here! Is it true you and Quicksilver are still dating!?”
You knew better than to be baited, humoring any of them just made it worse. They were like piranhas. But Peter couldn’t help it, turning to look as so many cameras flashed. His arm slid around you protectively. “Why wouldn’t we be, dude?” He called back.
“Are you saying the photos of (your codename) and Gambit were before you two reconciling?”
It took every ounce of your self control to not respond, but oh God did you want to. It was the mission in Tanzania. You knew it. You, Storm, and Gambit. Peter had stayed in the U.S. for that one as it’d been the holidays and his Mom had wanted both he and Wanda over for some time together.
After the mission was over, the three of you had ended up on one of the beautiful Tanzanian beaches for a single day. Just a single day to yourselves.
You’d had the audacity to wear a revealing bathing suit though and you and Remy had been photographed together, him shirtless of course because it was a goddamn beach. And laughing and smiling because, surprise, you were friends! And they’d cropped Ororo out in all the closeups for complete loss of context.
It’d been a thing in some of the tabloids for a while, but you really thought that had finally blown over. Of course if anyone asked Remy, he liked to play coy on the whole subject to keep up his God’s gift to all men and women sex symbol status.
“Peter, let’s just go,” You whispered in his ear, sure anything else said would only make things worse.
But you could read him all too well, and when he turned his face to look back at you, you already knew what he was going to do. You didn’t try to stop him, because never would you humiliate him on live television with any type of rejection, but oh, you would never live this one down. Never.
He kissed you hard. And there was nothing fake about it, honestly the kind of kiss usually reserved for your bedroom as you felt heat rising up in you. The camera flashes clicking over and over as you could still taste the alcohol he’d drank before.
When he finally released you again, you gasped a little. He gave the photographers a ‘fuck you’ look, before speaking just to you. “Now we can go.”
“Fly or run?” You breathed.
“Fly please. I’m still about half out of it.” He admitted.
You powered up to some surprised and excited sounds from the crowd. Your whole body glowing white again in the energy you emitted.
“Wait, aren’t you going to stay and talk to the police!?” The reporter shouted.
“They know where to find us if they need us.” You answered, extending your energy field around Peter, before you took off vertically, making sure to get sideways over the rooftops as soon as you could though to breakup their camera angles and finally give you privacy again at last.
You landed gently atop the parking garage only a few moments later, letting him go again as you powered back down.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked, just taking your hand again though.
“No.” You said truthfully. “But, I have no idea what we’ve really just done. We still have to go home...home where the Professor always watches the 10:00 news with his late night tea.”
Peter sighed, only half joking. “We could always go stay with my Mom for a while?”
You just moved in closer, pulling him against you as you laid your head on his shoulder. “We’ll survive, babe. Somehow we always do.”
“I think that says more about you than me though. Pretty sure I’d be face down in a ditch somewhere already if it weren’t for you.”
You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck then before raising your head back up to kiss him once more. Much softer this time, and even longer than his jealous little display a few minutes ago.
He made one of his little noises of contentment, hands sliding down to squeeze your butt through the thin pants you were wearing. As he pulled your hips tighter against him, he broke the kiss enough to speak regretfully. “I really was hoping to get lucky tonight...”
“Same.” You smiled. It had been a while. Mostly from you both being so tired by the time you finally got in bed. Passing out on each other had more been the norm the past couple weeks. “We get some food in you, and see where things go?”
“Gross! Get a room!”
You startled at the sudden shouting, having wholly thought yourselves alone up here in the moonlight.
Peter rolled his eyes, yelling back at Russell, “Kid, we have one! And we’d already be back there by now if it wasn’t for your little mafia hunting shenanigans!”
You looked over to see Deadpool and Russell both standing in the doorway to the parking garage stairs.
Wade whistled, leaning back against the doorframe. “Way to take down that Marcia Fletcher a notch! I always found her too uppity to be honest. I think she’s still butt hurt that they didn’t give her the lead anchor spot when Carl Sanderson moved to the early bird morning show. Tanya Meyer on the 5:00 news though, that’s my girl.”
You blinked. “How...how do you know-” It was literally minutes ago, it would have taken them just this long to walk here.
Deadpool lifted up his cell phone. “Facebook live, bitches. Don’t you follow WAFN? The recipes they post from Saturday morning cooking with Pat are always delish.” He looked back down at the phone though, happily reading. “Hah! Peggy Fredrickson from Brewster, New York thinks Marcia’s contouring and drawn on eyebrows are getting worse. Fire your makeup person, Marcia.” He tapped something on the screen. “Like comment! Oh, and Michael Morris from Ridgefield says who wouldn’t do Remy LeBeau. Damn, Michael, all out and proud on main.”
Peter let go of you, taking an annoyed breath. But then looking back to you. “Please let me at least prank Remy, something, anything.”
“But he didn’t do anything.” You replied, though only more stressed now that this was already blowing up on social media.
“Exactly! He should have at least denied it! But no, Mr. cool Cajun can’t admit that you’d actually choose me over him.”
“Hey now, I think you’re looking at this the wrong way, Quickie.” Deadpool interjected. “There’s always the ménage à trois option. I mean he’s French right? And Michael from Ridgefield is just spitting truth. Who wouldn’t want to do Remy LeBeau? He could shuffle my cards anytime.”
“You guys are so fucking weird.” Russell groaned. “Can we go find your damn car now?”
But you didn’t move yet, still looking fully at Peter. “Wade’s just trying to get under your skin. We all know how Remy is. He’d flirt with a piece of cardboard if it suited him. It doesn’t mean anything to him.” You recognized that Gambit was physically attractive of course, you had eyes too after all. But that was the only extent of it. You loved Peter. Not to mention you wouldn’t at all want to get on Rogue’s bad side. She and Gambit were tumultuous enough without someone else being added to the mix.
“This is adorable, really. But I did bring ‘good job team for sending a little girl selling, gentrification funding, pencil dick mob boss to butt fucking federal prison’ cannolis. Want some?” Deadpool offered, lifting up a large takeout box you somehow hadn’t noticed before.
Peter’s shoulders dropped a little, still heavily annoyed though eyeing the box. “So does this mean you’re coming back with us too?”
Wade shrugged, “The kid doesn’t know you guys. What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t at least go and make sure he actually wanted to stay in your little mutant commune before I ditch him there?”
“You aren’t my damned dad.” Russell said, though almost sounding too tired to argue further at this point. He reached up, taking a cannoli from the box and biting into it as he started to walk back down the stairwell. “What floor is the car on?”
“Just one down from here, you already passed it. Black SUV,” you answered. Colossus and Kitty must not have been here yet if Wade and Russell had made it all the way to the top deck without finding them.
Peter grabbed your hand again, walking with you to the doorway as he grabbed three cannolis out the box begrudgingly with his other hand. He passed one off to you, before biting into the other two in quick succession.
And you only had a moment to see all the thick scarring under Wade’s mask as he lifted it just enough to start eating one himself, before turning to follow you both out and down the stairwell.
———————————
(Concluded in Part 2 here)
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violetlilysunshine · 3 years ago
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HEY BABAY CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR MILESTONEEEEEEE!!! I'm so proud and happy for you! 🥺🥺 Also let me know when you see spiderman, i've been off tumblr for a while because I didnt want to get any spoilers, but i've just seen it and i REALLY wanna hear your thought about it!!!
Also, if you dont mind, could you writr something about actress reader × harry where she plays black cat? I only thought about that lol but it could go like public shipping her with his brother and she has to reasure they are togther or she showing him off on a red carpet. Anything really, you could go angst/fluff/smut anythibg you feel like. ❤❤
I have not seen NWH, and I don't think I will anytime soon so y'all can rest assured that there won't be spoilers on this page (as there aren't with literally any Marvel thing because I'm so behind everyone else). Also idk who you are to let you know when I've watched it, but I guess I'll make a post when I do :)
okay, I am very very very limited in my Marvel knowledge, so the addition of Black Cat will be very limited but I'll try!
Warnings: description of attire ambiguous to include as many as possible (if not everyone), pet names [bub], quite a bit angstier than I'd planed but once I started I couldn't stop
900 Celebration
The day is finally here! Premiere day! To say you're excited is an understatement. You've always dreamed of landing such a big role and you've finally done it.
You're all dressed and made up, ready to go. Your hair styled to perfection, you dress fitting like a glove, and your makeup minimal to let yourself shine. You tried to play off your character, donning a sleek black look and slicked back hair.
You and Harry hadn't made your relationship public yet, but you've been together for almost a year. You'd mentioned something about walking the carpet together, and Harry said he'd hop in a few photos like he always does with Tom, but that's not what you had in mind. You didn't want to push him, so you just told him: "whatever you're comfortable with, so am I," letting him decide how the night goes.
You've taken to the carpet, and you are puled to an interview pretty quickly. Tom's taking most of the attention of the photographers anyway, so you're happy to interview.
"How are you tonight?" the overly-bubbly woman asks.
"I'm just fine, excited to be here!" you smile.
"And happy to be here with Tom?" she prods.
"Of course, Tom lights up any room he's in," you smile, trying to dance around the subject.
"And what's it like working with him?"
"He's a great mentor, a great costar, and a great friend. Anyone would be lucky to work with him," you gush, trying to keep it short and sweet.
"Friend?" she asks with her eyebrows raised, "because there's rumors that you guys are something more. You've been seen at his parents' house, hanging in L.A. together, you guys even vacationed together not too long ago."
"Yes, just friends," you give a tightlipped smile, "he's a great guy to be around, but not my guy."
"By your own choice?"
"Yes, my own choice, he's not my type."
"Alright, moving on then," she laughs trying to keep things lighter sensing the shift in your mood.
You finished the interview and turned to find Harry standing not far from you. He clearly looked upset, and trying to hide it, while he filmed Tom. He couldn't help the pit rolling around in his stomach at the thought of you and his brother.
He didn't even understand why you were with him. You're amazing and beautiful and confident and smart and talented and you deserved someone like Tom. You tell him all the time that you don't want Tom, and he knows that. You've told him again and again, and even Tom has told him, that nothing will ever happen there because all you want is Harry. But right now, in this moment, it's all hitting him like a ton of bricks and he can feel himself spiraling.
You could tell all of the thoughts rolling around in his head and you knew that he had heard the interview.
You walked up behind him, making sure just to tap his arm in case he didn't want to be "couple-y" in front of the cameras.
"Hey, bub," you whispered in his ear.
He grunted in response, forcing a smile in front of all the cameras, "hey."
"You leaned closer making it look like you just couldn't hear each other over all the noise, "I love you, and only you," you breathed, passing the smallest peck to his cheek. Enough for him to feel it, but not enough to be noticed by anyone else.
You could see some of the anger subside from his face and his eyebrows began to unclench slightly as he asked, "why?"
The look on his face and the sound of his voice nearly broke your heart. You didn't want to get into everything at the moment, this was not the time or place, but you gave a simple answer, "because you're you."
He smiled lightly, knowing there would be more to the conversation later, but he was feeling a bit better about the relationship. He just didn't think it would hit this hard hearing the interviewers ask about you and Tom. He sees it on socials all the time, and even laughs about it with Tom and you, but coming from a real person in front of him is different.
"Would you please be my date?" you asked in the quietest whisper you could.
"I thought I already was," he answered cheekily.
You laughed in relief, sensing the change in him already, "then take some photos with me," you fired back.
He thought for a second and you figured he'd say no, but he passed his camera to Sam, warning him not to mess it up, and took to the carpet with you.
He took your hand in his, leading you over before securing a hand around your waist. You watched him closely, the gears turning over and over in his brain, "just you and me," you whispered, gripping around his shoulder as you shimmied closer.
"You and me," he whispered back.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago
Text
Just Another One
Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’
Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)
Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing
Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.
Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤
When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.
I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.
And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.
“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.
She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 
“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.
In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.
Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.
She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.
And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?
                                                             *  *  *
“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.
“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“
I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.
That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.
“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“
I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.
“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 
Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?
“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.
He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”
That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.
“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.
“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.
My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.
“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“
Before I can reply, he sends me another message.
“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“
I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”
I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.
I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.
He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’
AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?
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adelindschade · 4 years ago
Text
Moroha doesn’t recognize her dad when he’s human.
Edit: I got hit the angst train. And some fluff. (lots of it) 
“No, you’re not!”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not!!”
“Yes, I am.”
Kagome fought a smile as she watched their daughter expressed her frustration. The toddler was adamant; pointing a tiny, accusatory finger towards her father. Her (temporarily) human father.
Inuyasha merely grinned in the face of the girl’s intense interrogation.
“Nuh-huh! You are not!” She shrilled. Had he been armed with his usual acute hearing, maybe he’d wince, but he was not moved in slightest.
He leaned against the wood of their hut comfortably, as he usually did when the day receded and a calm night resumed. His wrist rested on his bent knee, just within reach of their daughter to tugged on his sleeve with as much ferocity a child she as she could muster.
“Moroha,” Kagome intervened. Her tone was soft but reprimanding. A sigh followed – knowing all too well the girl was as stubborn as they could get. Kagome was no more to blame for that trait than Inuyasha either.
Their daughter hadn’t yet grown accustomed to his change. They happened so few in between cycles that she often missed his transformation altogether. She’d sleep soundly while Inuyasha would anxiously guard their home, knowing all too well of the heightened risk, but assured slightly by a confident Kagome that she, too, was capable of defending their abode.
Moroha would not sleep that night. She was met with a stranger in her father’s favorite place. He wore her father’s robe. He even had the audacity to lay a casual hand on her mother – a certain move that would condemn him to the underworld should her father catch him.
“Yes, I am,” Inuyasha repeated, humored by her display.
“You’re not my father!”
“Of course, I am,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re not! You’re different!”
Inuyasha snorted. “Hey kid, look at a mirror. So are you,” he redirected with a straight finger. He was aiming at the mirror besides Kagome.
Moroha was so focused on the imposter that she heeded little attention to the fact her hair had changed, too. She bore the same shade of gold as he did; the striking white strands of hair highlighting the small sliver of demon than run through her veins; and her baby fangs that Kagome cooed over were on full display.
“You smell different!”
“I can barely smell you at all,” he made a motion to sniff. She scrunched her nose and crossed her arms.
“You don’t have ears!” She pointed to his head.
He scoffed. “Yes, I do. See?” He lifted his hair ever so slightly.
“Those are mommy’s ears!”
“You got some of your own,” Inuyasha encouraged. He reached out to gently pinch her own ears – the ones he usually bore – and grinned when awe overwhelmed her face. Her small hands replaced his – feeling the fur of her newfound ears and gasping upon the discovery.
“Mommy! I have ears!”
“Yes, you do,” Kagome coddled. She swaddled up her daughter and nuzzled into her cheek. “You look just like your dad.”
It always endeared her. She swore Moroha was her father’s daughter despite the lack of apparent coloring. Yet, as she glanced at her husband, she knew immediately that Moroha was a mere reflection of her father. As a human, the similarities were uncanny. How she didn’t pin it sooner was beyond her.
“For now,” Inuyasha corrected. He nodded curtly. “Wait until daybreak. You’ll look normal again.”
Normal. He used the word so often to describe her. He was projecting his wish for her to be accepted into society. Sure, she was, within the village limits – but beyond that? He wasn’t naïve to think her oddities wouldn’t be noticed by keener senses. Humans would take heed of her aura, her pointed teeth, and wild streak. Demons could smell her a mile away.
One look was all it would take to confirm she was his and, despite the anxieties that came with raising her, he was elated to know no harm could come to Moroha. Not with him and Kagome around to ensure she’d grow up safe and strong and, most importantly, loved.
“I don’t want normal. I want big ears.”
Inuyasha sighed. She would say that now and cry her heart out when her beloved ears disappeared at daybreak, but as she’d grow older, she’d appreciate the subtlety of her demon heritage. Inuyasha couldn’t deny his. He couldn’t forget the torment that came with being alienated for his unusual eyes, his dog-like ears, and claws.
Kagome could coo over her baby fangs – and Inuyasha would be content to know his daughter was adored for just the way she is, beloved by a woman who had more heart to give than anyone he’d ever known – but Inuyasha also knew beyond the barrier of the village was a cruel world ready to admonish her for those very same features.
“What about the ones your mom makes you?” Inuyasha teased.
This was not the first nor the last time she’d be upset over her lack of ears. Kagome resolved her plight by fashioning a large bow to tie back her hair – a bow that purposely resembled the same pointed arches that mimicked her father’s natural assets.
“These are real!”
“And I bet you can hear a lot with them, too,” Inuyasha grinned.
“Yeah!”
“Yet you can’t tell your old man’s voice apart from an imposter? Hmm,” he played along. He reclined his head back, closing his eyes in contentment. “You’re breaking my heart, Moroha.”
“Sometimes, just like you, your dad changes, too. He can’t be a demon all the time,” Kagome assured. “Let him be human for one night. It’s very exhausting chasing demons all day and then having to chase you, too,” she laughed along.
Moroha scampered onto his lap, unafraid of his embrace – all too accustomed to his protectiveness when he carried her around in similar fashion. She peeked up, still bewildered by his new look. She tugged on his hair, palmed his cheek, and giggled brightly when he bent his face to nuzzle into the crown of her head.
“Are you still sure I’m not your dad?”
“Yeah,” she squealed. He found her weak spot – tickling her sides mercilessly.
“If you rile her up, you’re putting her to sleep yourself,” Kagome warned quietly. Yet, she couldn’t help but glow; she was always put at ease whenever she saw how affectionate he was with her – how gentle he was, too.
“Understood,” Inuyasha beamed.
“I think tonight is the only night you may actually be stronger than me,” he humored. His hands combed through her hair, puzzled by how odd it seemed in contrast to the darker strands he so often saw.
“Wait until she’s older,” Kagome relished. “Try to keep up with her then!”
“Let’s not think about her growing up so fast,” Inuyasha frowned, “let alone running out on your old man,” he added with warmth when the girl looked up with big eyes. “Promise me that, will you? You won’t grow up? That you won’t disappear on me in a blink of the eye?”
“Yeah!”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Inuyasha smiled. Moroha raised her small palm and compared it to his. “And promise me you’ll keep these sharp things to yourself, okay? I don’t want anyone losing an eye anytime soon.” He tapped her claws one-by-one.
“No!” She giggled.
“A real killer, aren’t you? A feral child, huh? Who’s raising you??”
“You!”
“Me? Nah. But I think your dad will be here tomorrow and he’ll set you straight! I don’t have claws or teeth or anything like you but your dad? He can be really scary.”
“No!”
“No? He’s not scary? Well, aren’t you fearless?”
“Let’s not forget she has a mother, too,” Kagome harrumphed. “I’m not raising a feral child. I’m raising a girl with rules! Like bedtime!”
“No!”
Inuyasha laughed. “We have a rebel!”
“Rebels have rules, too, and you, sweetheart, have a really big one to follow.”
“No!”
“How about you sleep and when you wake up, you can your dad all about the stranger who slept over? How about that?”
“Mm.” She mocked deliberation and then flashed a smile. “Okay!”
“Alright, then,” Kagome decided. She plucked Moroha from her post on Inuyasha’s lap. She had a mat already prepared. “Would you like another story or are you all tuckered out from pestering your dad with questions?”
“Story!!”
“Alright then,” Inuyasha began. His hand hovered over her head, only to pat her crown, and tap her nose. “It’s your mom’s turn to tell a story.”
“What about the one with the butterfly?”
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