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juyeoniemyhoney · 3 years ago

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make you feel my love

Losing means nothing to Ishikawa when he has you.

pairing: ishikawa yuki x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: i don’t think there’s any!

word count: 2074 words

A/N: i honestly dont know who wants to read this but im just gonna post it anyways HAHA so here all you ishikawa simps pls enjoy<3

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It all happens at once.

The noise— screams of all pitches and encouragements of all sorts, forming a raucous cacophony in the large gymnasium— halts almost immediately; like a vacuum has sucked it all up and the only thing that is left is an eerie stillness as everyone waits in antsy anticipation for the player to serve.

And then he is running up, throwing the ball great lengths into the air and jumping to meet it halfway, hitting the ball with such force and determination you can almost feel the impact yourself. The ball hurtles through the air and crosses the net with such speed you almost don't see it.

But the Japanese team does. Their libero, Yamamoto, crosses the court in a flash and bumps the ball up so high up it gives his teammates half a second to breathe before they are rushing to connect it, the setter, Sekita, tossing the ball higher in the air for Ishikawa to hit it.

The tall Brazilians loom over him like a curse, like bad karma, as determined as the Japanese are, but not nearly as desperate. Ishikawa does not mind them and he bravely hits the ball with as much strength as his worn out body allows him, sending every last bit of energy into this spike, hoping, praying, practically begging for it to work, for the ball to hit the other side of the court with such violence that the Brazilians would not be able to even react before it hits the floor.

The next thing you know, the ball hits the hands of the Brazilians and is spindling down towards the floor at breakneck speed. Yamamoto, Sekita and Ishikawa (when he lands), all throw themselves to the floor in a desperate bid to save it, to not let it touch the floor, to not let all their hard work be washed down into a drain. But to no avail.

The ball hits the floor with a resounding thud. The whistle blows and all at once, the Brazilian supporters leap from their seats and yell and scream and shout with unadulterated joy. Because they have won! They have won the game! And the Japanese have lost. The Japanese team and their supporters are quiet in the wake of their loss. You do not move, almost as if if you did, the bleachers would crack open, the earth beneath the gymnasium would cave in and you would be falling to the floor, through the soil and to the core of the earth.

The three men lift themselves up from the floor with the weight of defeat on their shoulders and their teammates pat their backs silently, looking solemn but trying to be as encouraging as possible. The team gathers at the end line of the court and another whistle blows, signalling both teams to bow. When Ishikawa's eyes hit the floor, so do the tears.

He cries in silent agony, somehow feeling like it is all his fault. He is the captain, he should have led them better than this. He is the ace, he should have been able to hit pass those blocks. He knew hitting hard was risky, he should have been more careful. He should have moved faster, reacted faster, gotten to the ball faster. He should have been sharper, more alert, better. He should have been better.

His teammates shed a few tears too, but not quite nearly as much as Ishikawa. It's unrelenting— his tears. It doesn't want to stop, even when Ishikawa roughly wipes at his eyes in frustration, desperately wanting the raw showing of emotion to stop. Everyone can see him cry in this moment and he hates it.

When Ishikawa and his team begin to move off the court, is when you break from your stunned daze. Quite frankly, you were shocked speechless. You knew Brazil was a tough opponent but your faith in your boys would always trump any form of doubt. You knew they could do it. You knew they would be able to do it. Until they didn't.

You do not see the tears from quite so far away, but when you do, you are ripping yourself from your seat with such great speed, the people around you jump in surprise. You do not care, you do not even really notice before you are sprinting down the stairs, leaping from each flight, ignoring the desperate calls of your best friend and the shocked expressions directed at you as you race to the exit of the court.

"Ishikawa Yuki!" you yell just in case you don't catch them in time. You know you could just call him or meet him at his house but you came as a surprise, and though you'd wish you could surprise him after his victory, you think that surprising him and being able to comfort him in his loss will mean just as much.

At the sound of your voice, his head whips around, eyes wide in shock as he desperately searches the people for your face, eyes glassy with unshed tears and vision slightly blurry. You jump off the rest of the stairs, running to him with flailing arms. And when Ishikawa sees you, you swear you see his lips pout, eyes glossing over as tears run down his face.

You grin and run to him and he drops everything, his water bottle, his towel, his jacket, everything, so that he can hold his arms open for you to run into and give him a big hug. And you do exactly that. You run straight into his arms, wrapping your arms around his torso and shoving your face into his chest, not caring at all that he is drenched in sweat (and possibly tears), not caring at all that almost the whole gymnasium full of people can see the two of you have such an intimate moment, not caring at all because Ishikawa Yuki, the love of your life, is in tears and you have to do everything in your power to stop that.

Ishikawa's arms wrap around you too, holding you so tight and dear to him, you swear the both of you stop breathing. And with you in his arms, he finally crumbles to the floor, tears spilling from his eyes and sobs escaping his throat in ugly, high-pitched hiccups. But he doesn't care, you don't care, he's safe as long as you're here.

"When did you get here? I thought you were only going to touchdown tomorrow," he whispers in between sobs, his shaking, swollen hand coming up to your hair and entangling his fingers with the strands messily. You pull away slightly and pull Ishikawa down so that your chin rests on his shoulder and he can bury his face into your neck, your hand coming up to his sweaty hair to run your fingers through the corse, tangled strands as Ishikawa continues to cry in your arms. This position is so incredibly uncomfortable. After all, Ishikawa is insanely tall and the top of your head doesn't even really reach his neck, and you're sure Ishikawa's back is going to hurt a little later but he doesn't seem to mind at all at the position change, indulging in you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, hot breaths that tickle your skin, coming out in pants as he struggles to control his sobs.

"I wanted to surprise you," you say with a fond smile, the hand that was idle on his back coming up to send a wave to his teammates when your eyes meet, even sending one to his coach, who just smiles bitterly at you. His teammates send you rueful smiles and thumbs-ups of approval before they make their way back to the locker rooms, leaving you and Ishikawa to continue embracing at the exit of the court.

Ishikawa lets out a tearful laugh, saying, "Well, I'm surprised alright. I was just thinking about you when you called my name. I almost thought I was seeing things.".

You laugh but do not reply, allowing a comfortable silence to take over as Ishikawa lets all his emotions out in the form of hot, regretful tears. Your hand continues to soothe him with pats and strokes to his back and your hand remains in his hair. Ishikawa's large hands fist your shirt at your waist as his tears and sweat seep into your shirt. You don't mind. Of course, if this were anyone else you would. But this is Ishikawa Yuki, and you love him more than anything else in this world.

"You played so well," you whisper after a while of silence. You can feel Ishikawa wanting to pull away from you but you do not allow him, knowing full well that he wants to pull away to argue with you, to debunk your words with his incessant humility, so you do not allow him. You do not allow him to deny himself the praise he very much deserves because he's worked hard for this, no matter the outcome, he and his teammates have worked his ass off for this, and the least you can do is praise him.

"Yuki, you played very well. Don't try and deny it," you say with a firm voice, hand on his head keeping his chin to your shoulder. At this, he finally laughs and you loosen your grip, allowing him to pull out of your embrace just enough for him to see your face.

His cheeks are tear-stained and his eyes are beginning to puff up with all his crying, red beginning to bloom at the corner of his eyes, slowly taking over the white. His smile is nothing short of breathtaking, swollen eyes and red lips curled up brilliantly, smile lines and the corners of his eyes creasing sweetly. You can't help but grin back when you see his smile, nose souring with endearment.

"You know me so well," he comments, fingers coming up to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your jaw to your chin, tilting your face up just a little bit more. His fingers guide your head just slightly forward before he is meeting you halfway in a sweet kiss, grinning immediately after your lips meet his.

Ishikawa's eyes trace over your every feature, observing, remembering, ingraining; tracing over the curve of your eyes, the slope of your nose, the perk of your lips, the peak of your eyebrows, and the line of your jaw, fingers ghosting over each feature along with his eyes, all the while maintaining the smile on his lips.

Then, he is giving your forehead a sweet kiss before pulling out of your embrace fully, turning around to pick up the things he had dropped when you came running into his arms. He brushes off his jacket and drapes it across your shoulders, holding open the jacket for you to slip your arms into the sleeves, to which you do, before he is hooking the zip and zipping it all the way up to your chin.

In his mind, he laughs at the way you are dwarfed by his jacket. Your hands can barely be seen, only the tips of your fingers peeking out from the sleeves, and the jacket, where it usually ends at his hip, ends almost at your knees. Unconsciously, he smiles and has to physically restrain himself from pinching your cheeks.

After he zips up his jacket, he bends down to pick up his towel, draping it over his shoulder before he is bending down once again to pick up his water bottle, having set them down to help you put on his jacket. Then, without a word but with the largest, goofiest grin, he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the court and to the locker rooms in a comfortable silence, fingers intertwined with yours.

For a second there, he almost forgets that they lost the game and are not able to proceed to the quarter-finals. For a second there, he almost completely forgets about his regrets and anger and frustration. And it's all because of you. And of course, he is eternally grateful to you. After all, what on earth would he do without you? He would still be crying his ass off, that's what, though he would never admit it out loud. And it is because of this reason— though he would do it without a reason at all— that he kisses you a little longer, hugs you a little tighter, loves you a little more.

#ishikawa yuki #volleyball #ishikawa yuki fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #ishikawa fluff #ishikawa yuki au #au #japanese volleyball #what else can i even tag #ishikawa yuki imagines #imagines

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l4verq · 4 years ago

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crossed out | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re one of the names on bucky’s list

warnings : angst, fluff?, mentions of choking

fic : one shot

a/n : u know i’m a sucker for therapy bucky lol

He should have skipped today’s session.

Cause he’s starting to regret coming when she brings it up.

“You gonna tell me about her?” Cecelia questions, casually flicking through a thick folder labelled James B.B.

But it was never casual.

Bucky knew she was observing his every move, his every tick. And he’d been pretty good at faking through every session until now.

“I thought you were helping me make amends.” He forges an unamused smile, which was second nature now.

“Yes and that’s why I asked you about her.” She looks up from the folder, the smallest smile tugging at her lips.

“It says here that you guys were complicated.” She continues, eyes skimming over a particular page.

Complicated was the last thing he’d use to describe it.

Cause it was the one thing that gave him some clarity, hope that he could be deserving of love again someday.

“We used to date. We broke up.” He gruffs, crossing his arms.

Maybe he should fake a mechanical failure in his arm, reschedule for another time.

“Do you still love her?”

He doesn’t answer but it’s written all over his face and Cecelia can read him like a book.

She turns over his list that she’d assigned him to make, eyes trailing down names until it reaches a hastily crossed out name at the end.

“Why don’t we pick this up next week? I hope you’ll be more comfortable to talk about it then.” She hands him back the small, black notebook.

He hesitantly takes it back, his feet already springing to get out of the room.

Was it just him or was the air running out in this tiny room.

“And, James?” She calls out.

He looks back, slightly winded.

“Remember, sometimes you need to just take a leap of faith, trust your heart.”

He nods solemnly, almost tripping over his legs trying to get to the door.

Hands fumbling over the handle, he’s greeted by a rush of cool air when he finally opens the goddamn door.

He stuffs the notebook in his pocket, taking big strides towards the exit.

It’s the same everyday.

Keep his head down, one sharp left, stop by the nearby cafe if he feels like it.

But today, he takes a right, taking out his flip phone he prefers to the touch screens these days.

Punching in the only number he knows, his stomach’s doing flips.

Don’t pick up, don’t pick up.

“So you do know how to call someone.” Sam picks up after a few rings.

He could almost hear the stupid smirk.

“How are you?” He cringes, the grip on his phone tightening.

It’s a small pause before Sam chuckles, “Y/N’s doing fine. In fact, she just got back from a mission in Prague yesterday.”

Of course, you’d still be going on missions, it was the only thing you knew.

“That’s not why I called.” He huffs, leaning against his car now.

It was an old, beat up Honda that he’d fixed up from the local junkyard.

“Really? Then enlighten me.”

It was Cecelia’s fault for bringing you up. If she hadn’t brought her up, he wouldn’t be here doing this.

“Where is she?” He closes his eyes, wanting the ground to just crack open and swallow him whole.

“Right where you left her.”

He mumbles a hasty goodbye cause he’s not sure he can trust himself to keep his composure any longer.

Getting into the car, he pulls out the notebook, going through the list.

He’d ticked off the list last month, even adding a few more names just to avoid the crossed out name at the end.

He jams the keys in, the car purring to life, before he can change his mind.

The door is taunting him.

He doesn’t know how but it is.

A quick exhale and he raises his hand to knock on it, half hoping you won’t open it.

But you do.

He always loved your eyes cause they held so much life to them.

Like for now, confusion morphing to recognition and rage in an instant.

You’re in bad shape, he can gather from the slight limp and bruises.

It feels like forever before you call his name in disbelief, what he’s longed to hear for so long.

He wishes you’d curse him out, hit him or tell him to go away cause that’s what he deserves.

But you don’t.

Instead, your pretty eyes brim with tears.

“Don’t.” He grits his teeth, unable to meet your eyes.

He always hated to see you cry.

“Then, why’d you leave?” Your voice breaks as months of bottled up heartache pour out.

He had to.

You were the only right thing he’d done in a long long time and he couldn’t mess it up.

“I needed to fix myself before I could trust myself around you.”

He grimaces as he remembers the life draining out of your face, while his hands were wrapped around your neck.

That very night he’d left, requested for therapy and could only hope it would work.

But it didn’t.

There was no fixing anything, he’d realised that waking up from nightmares far too many times.

“You could have picked up the phone.” Your voice barely above a whisper, stinging like a nasty burn.

He almost did, everytime.

But he hated himself too much to allow that.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all he can whisper, fighting the urge to take you in his arms.

“If you’d just let me in, realise that I do understand you.” You’re basically pleading at this point but you don’t care.

“I know you do. But you don’t have to. You deserve a better guy.” He says the same thing when he left like a broken radio.

“There is no better guy for me, Bucky. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” You limp over closer to him.

You know he’s focused only on your limp, eyes filled with concern as they rake over your wounds.

“Does it hurt?”

The same thing he always used to ask after a mission while tending to your injuries.

“Yea, here.” You pat the left side of your chest, biting down a smile.

He has to fight back one too, but it’s kinda hard.

You meet his eyes, a little too long cause you’ve missed gazing into them every morning.

Maybe this is the leap of faith Cecelia keeps droning on about, he thinks as he leans in, “We should take a look at that, then.”

You sniffle, “I’m still mad at you.”

He laughs, which involuntarily makes you 2% less mad.

“I missed you.” He whispers, his lips inches away from yours.

You don’t have to say it back cause he knows.

He leans in closer, ghosting over your lips, waiting for your approval.

You close the distance, lips crashing into his almost in desperation.

Which you regret almost immediately cause you taste blood.

A split lip and kissing, not so pretty.

He pulls away and you mewl, pulling him back.

“You’re only making your lips worse.” He chuckles, hands slipping into yours.

Instead, he kisses your forehead, trailing all the way to your lips where he pecks them gently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers again, head leaning on yours.

“I forgave you a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to come back.” You sob, tears springing out again.

He pulls you into his chest, steady hands you’ve craved for so long.

Gently rocking you back and forth, he strokes your hair, fleeting kisses to calm you down.

You’re struggling to keep your legs stable as your eyes grow heavy but you ignore the blatant aches in your body cause you don’t want to leave his embrace.

And he somehow always seems to notice.

“You need to rest.”

You shake your head, holding onto him even tighter.

He knows he won’t win against your stubborn ass so he lifts you up carefully, legs swinging over his arms while you snake your hands around his neck for support.

“Stay.” You mumble as he takes you in the room you two used to share.

And he does.

Boy, was Cecelia in for a ride next session.

a/n : im cringing as i post this🧎🏻‍♀️🔫🏃🏻‍♀️jsneyswjausowkaw but supeerr excited for tfatws this friday :)) also i named bucky’s therapist for convenience lol im pretty sure she’s not named in the first ep? i could be wrong tho

#bucky barnes #tfatws #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #mcu #marvel

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softxsuki · 3 years ago

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urgent request!! hi i hope this is ok for me to request but i feel like self harming and im in a very bad state rn so could you write platonic dabi or shigaraki comforting a teen fem reader when she comes up to them and says she feels like self harming? thanks!

Dabi Comforting Reader Who Feels Like Self-Harming

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: TW--Mentioning of self harm, reader expressing her want to harm herself, some depressing talk, mild language (like twice)

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: In which you show up at Dabi's apartment and confess that you want to hurt yourself. You ask him to help you and he tries his best to comfort you in your time of need.

[A/N: Hello anon. I hope I was quick enough in writing this for you! It was hard getting away from my chores .-. Hopefully this is able to help bring you any form of comfort. I don't write for Dabi, so apologies if I portray him weirdly. I enjoyed writing for him though, so I might add him to my list of characters that I write for, hmm. Anyway, my dm's are open if you need anything or need someone to listen. It's tough, trust me I was there in high school going through the same urges. Thankfully, many years later I'm no longer in that mindset, so you can definitely get through this. Don't be so hard on yourself though, heal at your own pace and one day you'll find yourself in a different mindset. Enjoy <3]

Shaky hands lift to the door, knocking desperately on the chipped painted wood repeatedly until you hear heavy footsteps approach from the other side.

The door rushes open as Dabi appears before you with a scowl on his face, ready to yell at whoever was behind the insistent knocking. Seeing you in front of him though, his resolve crumbles and his expression returns to normal.

“What do you want, brat?” he sighs rolling his eyes, then looks you over, noticing the school bag hanging over your shoulder, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

You ignore his questions and scoot past him, into his apartment, throwing your bag onto his couch as you plop down right next to it.

“Wow, yes hello, nice to see you too Y/N. Are you gonna-” he starts, but stops as soon as he sees your panicked expression and he’s immediately in big brother mode as he closes the door and makes his way to stand in front of you, “What happened?”

“Please stop me Toya, I don’t want to hurt myself,” you finally confess, tears threatening to spill from your wavering eyes.

He forces his tongue back at the use of his real name, much preferring when you called him Dabi, but your words shock him enough to ignore it.

“Hurt yourself? Y/N what’s going on?”

“I don’t know how else to deal with my emotions other than taking it out on myself, but I really don’t want to because I know I’ll regret it once I’m done, so please stop me! Distract me! Something! Anything!” you scream out at him, desperate to not feel so helpless and horrible inside.

His eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly agape, but he quickly collects himself and takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“Oi, look at me,” he finally says after a few moments of silence as you fidget with your hands in your lap.

You refuse to look up at him, hating the way that you felt like you had to rely on your friend in a moment like this when you so desperately wished you could help yourself.

He sighs but continues to speak anyway, “Look, I’m not the greatest at this kinda...stuff. Y’know, comforting people or whatever, but you’re not people, you’re like my little sister, my friend or whatever, so I’ll try my best,” he pauses and sighs while rubbing his face. “I don’t know what it is that you’re going through, and you don’t have to tell me, but this ain’t the way to deal with your emotions.”

“Easier said than done. My whole body is screaming at me to hurt myself. So I can feel something, punish myself, or just get these negative emotions out from inside me, I don’t really know,” you try to explain, still fighting the nagging voice in your head that was telling you to do these horrible things.

“You’re killing me here,” he mumbles, trying to rack his brain for words that would hopefully bring you some sort of comfort.

He wasn’t used to being positive and up-lifting. Your friendship consisted of bickering, but at the end of the day, he was there for you just like you were there for him, so he needed to do something for you now when you needed him the most.

You patiently sit beside him, waiting for him to speak again, though now that you were in his presence, the urge to harm yourself was slowly dissipating.

“All right,” he turns to you, making direct eye contact with you as you were already looking at him, “I know things are rough and you’re feeling shitty. Again, I don’t know your entire situation, but I’ll be ready to listen whenever you’re comfortable enough to share.”

He clears his throat, wanting to look away, but feeling like it might be better to maintain eye contact so you know that he cares.

“Just please know that I’m here for you, all right? I’ll be damned if you think I’ll let you lay a hand on yourself while you’re here, so get comfy. You’re not leaving until I’m sure you’re feeling better,” he awkwardly looks away from you, shuffling uncomfortably on the couch.

You give him a small smile, knowing that this was hard for him, but grateful that you had a friend like him who genuinely cared for you. Though the urge to harm yourself was slowly being forgotten for the moment, the negative feelings from the day still lingered, but you knew it would be okay as long as you remained by his side.

“I have left over pizza in the fridge, want some?” He asks you, trying to ease the tension in the room and act like things were still normal; the last thing he wanted was to treat you like a psych ward patient or like you were about to crumble in his hands.

“Mm, yeah. Sounds good, thanks Toya,” you hum, thanking him not only for the pizza, but secretly for his kind words that you honestly didn’t expect from him; You merely expected him to yell at you or criticize you for threatening to harm yourself, so it was a nice surprise.

“Yeah, whatever,” he gets up to head towards his small kitchen so he can heat up the pizza for you, but stops after taking a few steps and turns around to you again. “This conversation isn’t over though. Once you’re feeling better we really need to talk about this so I know how to help you, moving forward. And maybe talk about what YOU’D like to do to help yourself too... if that’s okay.”

You sigh, knowing that you’d have to talk about it eventually, but you smile slightly as he eased back a little at the end of his statement, giving you more freedom to choose to help yourself rather than forcibly receive it.

“I know,” you sigh, nervous at the thought of having to speak about things that were on your mind or going on in your life.

He notices your blank, far-off stare and walks back over to you, ruffling your hair a bit as his hand sits at the crown of your head.

“You’re gonna be alright. Don’t overthink it,” he reassures you, and with one last ruffle to your hair, he disappears into the kitchen.

It was reassuring knowing that Dabi was watching out for you in a way that you knew your other friends couldn’t.

Dabi was cold, and refused to show care for the people in his life most of the time, but in the rare case when he did show his caring side, you knew it was genuine. For once, you looked forward to a day when you wouldn’t be trapped in your negative thoughts with no way out aside from harming yourself. One day you’d be able to cope with your feelings in a more productive way, you were sure of it. But you knew it wouldn’t happen over-night. Many difficult days lie ahead, but you knew you’d have to face them, and now that Dabi knew that was going on in your head, maybe it would make things a little easier.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 11/21/2021

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fanfic-me-up · 5 years ago

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

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

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

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

Word Count: 6k+

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

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

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yeah...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

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

Silence.

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that my face!?”

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

“Uhhh…”

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

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

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

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

“Oops?”

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

“Denki Kaminari.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love getting off to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How bad do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You love getting off to me?”

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

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

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

“Show me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

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

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

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

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

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

“Fuck, I’m close.”

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

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

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

“Touch me.”

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

“Chill, Denki.”

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

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

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

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

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

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

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

“Everything and more.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Denki?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Denki?”

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

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

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

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

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

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

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

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

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you think you’re going?”

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

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

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

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

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

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

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

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

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

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

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

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

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

“I meant it,” you say.

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

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

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

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

“Sorry!”

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

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

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

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

“... round two?”

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

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

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

“To add to your collection 😉”

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

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satorinnie · 4 years ago

Text

love and war

pairing; gojo satoru x f!reader

genre; angst

wc; 3,6k

warnings; jjk manga spoilers

notes; i think its obvious the ending is a bit rushed but i still tried my best :/ got the motivation to write the ending but then lost it again...but i wanted to post it today so here it goes. would love to hear feedback on it!

it wasn’t meant to play out like this. no, he wasn’t meant to find out about it, not like this at least.

that was the last thing you ever wanted.

everything was going so fine, maybe too fine, but still, nonetheless, things were perfect between the two of you just this morning. how did it come to this?

he was looking at you, blindfold off, crescent blue eyes reflecting each emotion he held so so openly. the only times you saw him this vulnerable was when the two of you had talked about his past, his regrets, and what if’s. his eyes were full of adoration at that time, looking at you like you were a pure blessing from the heavens, an angel sent to save him from his drowning thoughts, to let him be himself.

but now, now they were looking at you with so much hurt, anger, regret, and oh so heartbroken.

you had seen, witnessed, first-hand what the receiving end of gojo’s furious gaze ended with. it wasn’t pleasant, that’s for sure, and you had sworn to yourself you would never be on the receiving end of it.

oh, how the tables have turned.

it was understandable why he was so mad; god knows you would be too. because you, who had delicately pieced back his broken heart and trust after the events of getou, had now broken it, by your very own hands at that.

how did it all come to this? you had no idea. you knew starting a relationship with him was wrong and off-limits from the very beginning, but the temptation had surpassed your rationality just like eve when she bit the apple. you never thought you’d fall this deep down the hole, so deep that you forgot–no, ignored your true mission.

to monitor gojo satoru and sukuna’s vessel and kill them when you got the order.

it was last year when the head sorcerers in england had given you this mission. if gojo was unbeatable and unrivaled in japan, you were the same in england. perhaps your curse technique wasn’t as strong as his, but it was versatile and a very reliable technique.

after itardori yuuji became the only sukuna’s vessel, japan wasn’t the only country sour about the thought of it; in fact, it had caused a panic in europe as well. and as england was the country that ruled the jujutsu world in europe, you were assigned with monitoring the vessel and the owner of the six eyes. they wanted their eyes and hands on the boy with the infinity.

but you befriending everyone there, joking with the curse himself, and becoming lovers with the one and only gojo satoru was definitely not how you planned for things to go. it spelled trouble from the beginning, getting close to the shaman who had an ego and power rivaling the gods. but, unfortunately, you were now too deep to just leave without explaining everything to him, and even hoping for a chance that he’d forgive the lies you fed him throughout your times together was a little farfetched.

how could you make him believe that everything you said was genuine, and out of true love? the answer was you couldn’t because the betrayal in his eyes was enough for you to gulp down those hopes, taking a deep breath to prepare for the argument that was about to come. “look–satoru, please let me explain and don’t jump to conclusions.” you lifted your hands in front of you as an act to calm him down, walking closer to him with a futile attempt to hold his hands.

“explain what?” a laugh escaped his throat, one mixed with desperation and madness, “that everything between us was a lie? a mission for you? how do you plan on slithering your way out of this now, huh?” his voice rising with each word he was spitting out of his mouth.

you were desperately trying to keep up the expression that you had everything together, when in fact, you didn’t at all. your hands were starting to shake because you were scared of losing the man in front of you whom you were utterly in love with. the boy with the infinity held your heart in his palms, and he had no idea about it. “nothing was a lie, alright! i know how that document looked, and i can’t lie and tell you that isn’t true, but my love for you is–”

“keep those fucking lies to yourself y/n–you know, everyone knows already. megumi, yuuji, maki, even shoko–”

“stop cutting me, gojo! i know it might be unforgivable, but you have to believe me when i say i forgot about the mission. i love you, okay? i am undeniably and utterly in love with you, and that’s why i’ve been ignoring every call, every message they’ve been sending me about the task because i can’t do it!” you were screaming now, hands in the air, trying to voice out every single emotion you were feeling in that moment.

“well, it’s too bad that i don’t love you anymore! you know, i’ve known about this for a few weeks now and was hoping you’d open up to me about it, but–”

you froze at his last sentence.

“–you what? so you’re telling me that everything that happened in between us during those weeks was an act? all fake? you were just waiting for me to open up so you could what, break my heart in a more grand way?” now you had to give it to him, not only was he secretly smart, he was also a great actor who had you fooled for weeks now. the room was silent after your words, both your eyes staring deep into each other; you, waiting for his answer.

and you watched as he opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to answer your question. but you knew what that meant; with his hesitance, you had found your answer. breaking your eye contact, you looked down at the floors of the home you used to share; you could hear your heart shattering into millions of pieces with just the sound of his breathing.

“alright,” you whispered into the air. running your hand over your face, you leaned back against the kitchen counter. “so how will this go? are you going to let me go or are we gonna have a full-on fight right now? or is everyone already waiting outside the door to capture me?” you were doing your best to avoid eye contact, it was already too heard keeping your tears from falling, and you knew one more look at the eyes you loved so much would break you.

there was silence for a few minutes, but in your eyes, a few minutes was an eternity long. the fact that he was debating the question you left was heartbreaking already. but you weren’t afraid to fight; you had come to japan prepared for the worst-case scenario, and getting to know satoru up close, you believed you had a fair chance at winning.

“–im giving you twenty-four hours to leave this country. if you don’t–you know what’s to happen.” this had you lifting your head in the speed of lightning, eyes wide mouth agape, you could only watch as gojo satoru left your shared house without sparing you a single glance.

he was oblivious to how he carried your heart out the door when he left you stranded in the middle of the kitchen.

it was an hour after your discussion, and you were still in the same spot he left you. still standing, still too paralyzed to move. the reality of things being over was just starting to weigh on you, but you knew you had to start packing because not only gojo; but england was going to be after you too.

you failed the mission. and you didn’t plan on returning back.

war is a slippery slope. what would you do? becomes what will you do? becomes what have you done?

looking around the now-empty home, you built with gojo; tears started falling from your hallow eyes. so many memories resurfaced in one moment; it was overwhelming. the day your first saw him when he was trying to crack a joke at nanami to get him to smile. or the time he first asked you out admitting he had found you a force to be reckoned with and how you had managed to bewitch him. the day you accepted, the day he made you see stars behind your eyes from pure bliss. the day he proposed living together. the day you danced around the living room with his obnoxious music playing at the back, head laid against his chest humming to the melodies. how you felt like a family when you saw him and the students act so close–

how long has it been? how long have you been pushing your actual task behind the lies and excuses you fed yourself. was that person you? the ever so stone-hearted y/n breaking her facade for the boy with infinity.

my god, my god, whose performance am i watching? how many people am i? who am i? what is this space between myself and myself?

it was all getting too much. when had you fallen down the hole to never leave again? should you be grateful, or should you curse the fact that despite all misfortune, you can still feel love and unearthly love but still for earthly objects?

finally getting a grip on yourself, your feet moved down the hall to your shared bedroom, and without wasting a glance at his side, you quickly started to pack your stuff to leave japan.

gojo wasn’t doing well himself. he thought he had finally found true happiness after all the loss he had to go through, and it all turned out to be nothing but an act built on lies. after he left your shared home, he had wandered around in the streets with no destination in mind and the cold chilly air blowing past him. his blindfold was still off, the moon making his crystal blue eyes shine even more, still with unshed tears at the brink of it—a dam about to break.

he knew he lied to you when he told you he didn’t love you anymore and only hoped the years of the facade he had to keep up was enough to fool you into believing his words when in fact, it was the very opposite. he loved you so much–so much that it broke him when he read the document that was mailed to you weeks ago. you and him were an inseparable duo–the strongest and his tamer. the boy with the infinity and the girl who held him down with gravity.

upon wandering the streets for god knows how many hours, he found himself in front of a riverbank. the light of the moon was radiating, creating a painting of a million stories for the broken boy. but while being so engrossed with the view in front of him, he had failed to feel someone creeping up behind him; with his infinity down, nanami was able to lend a hand on his shoulder. “i’m assuming you talked with her.” he broke the silence.

his silenced gaze worried his friend; they promised to keep it between themselves. while nanami believed letting the kids know would be the better choice, gojo was adamant about keeping your good image in front of them. he knew how much they adored you, and he would hate to be the one to break it to them. “i did.”

“and what choice did you go with?”

“i gave her a full day to leave, and if otherwise–” he gulped down the lump forming in his throat, “–if otherwise, i told her i would fight her.” tears now slowly starting to trail down his porcelain skin, an odd view to see for his foes.

“you did the right thing.” nanami tried his best to console him in a way. this was a new image for him; he never saw gojo break down like this; the last time he saw his best friend (he would never admit that to his face, though) like this was when he had to kill getou, even then he had managed to keep up the aloof facade. but he knew his feeling for you ran much, much deeper than that. he has witnessed what your companionship had done to him. it was what pieced him back, and now what broke him.

it’s been years since you left, but you were back now. back in japan after two years of staying away, traveling to many different countries, on the runaway from the higher-ups in england. you would’ve preferred your return to be on good news and such, but unfortunately, it was the opposite. your friends back in england had informed you about how they planned on ending gojo’s life once in for all today with a team of experienced sorcerers, and although you wanted to keep away from trouble as much you could, you couldn’t let the man you love die.

with your hood covering your face, you walked down the streets of shibuya, the once war zone that led to many disastrous events in the past years under your feet. you heard about everything; the culling game and the capture of gojo satoru, thank god those were all in the past now, and everyone was well–except nanami, and the new had broken you. just like gojo and the students, he also had a special place in your heart, his calm attitude always grounding you. you don’t think his last thoughts of you were good–considering what gojo had told you the night you left, but still, his death was unexpected news to you.

you didn’t know how you were going to approach the topic; there was a big chance they’d attack you the second you entered their line of vision, not allowing you to voice out the news–but it was worth the try nonetheless. taking your hood down, you entered a cafe; the need for caffeine after the long flight back here was strong, the anxiousness and stress not allowing you to sleep. what you didn’t expect was seeing the three first years–now third years–you loved so much sitting in the cafe chatting idly, not noticing you. you wanted to keep it that way, but on your way out, a feminine voice called out your name. “y/n sensei? is that you?”

your steps halted, freezing in your stop. the confrontation was inevitable now, causing a stir in a crowded place was the last thing you wanted so you turned around to see nobara staring at you with wide eyes, megumi and itadori behind shocked just as her. what you didn’t expect was her running straight at your engulfing you with wide arms; a big grin plastered on her face. “where were you! you disappeared out of nowhere, and gojo sensei wouldn’t tell us anything! we were really worried; you left me alone with these two idiots–you know you’re the only one who understands my pain–”

“–i’m sorry, i had to go on an abroad mission, and it took too long. it’s good to be back.” you hugged her back tightly, still trying to process the new information she threw at you. gojo had lied, and that made you question everything you believed in. had he also lied about his love for you back then? but that was for later–for now, you wanted to cherish this news and spend time with your favorite students, learn about their well-being and their stories.

“come on, let’s sit shall we? we got lots to catch up on.”

it was now midnight, and you were waiting somewhere in the middle of the forest for your dreaded meeting with gojo. you managed to convince the kids into telling gojo to meet you here without actually letting him know it was you. they were excited, to say the least, talking about how you and he were the epitomai of soulmates, two pieces meant to find each other, filling up the gaping hole you both had. you were very nervous, fidgeting in your spot, hiding behind the tree waiting for him to arrive, and when you heard footsteps nearing you–you knew this was it, heart pounding like crazy.

walking out of your hiding spot, you slowly made your way over to him, hands stiff at your sides anticipating his reaction. “gojo.” he looked at you, blindfold on this time. still, you could see his displeasure from how his body stiffened at your voice, looking at you with a straight face. “what’re you doing here? i thought i told you to leave.” you sighed, walking closer to him, “i know, and i am going to leave again, but before that, i need to tell you something–” you were cut off by the powerful shake of the ground, throwing you off balance resulting in you falling to the ground.

behind you were your old friends from england, standing tall and mighty together–a force to be reckoned with; you were once one of them, but alas, that was the past. “thanks you leading us straight to him y/n.” elizabeth smirked looking at your fallen state, “you made things a whole lot easier for us.” she continued. looking back at gojo, you were surprised to see his hands locked in some type of chain. how did they manage to get past his infinity–unless he didn’t have it on in the first place. did let his guard down once he saw you? why would he do that?

“no, no, no– leave him alone, elizabeth! i swear to god i’ll rain hell upon all of you!” you stood up desperately trying to leave the makeshift cage your friend had put you in when a sudden idea came to you. it was risky, but it would save him, and that–that was all you needed, your purpose of coming here in the first place.

“lover boy is being quite over there. what is it? cat got your tongue?” she was taunting you and definitely enjoying it too. walking closer to you, she neared your face while the others were beside gojo, “you’re both fools believing you guys could be together in the first place, that’s how it works–” she was cut off by the stomp of your foot on the ground lifting a piece of rock–the one gojo was on, up to the air, away from your ex-friends. if you couldn’t save yourself, you could at least save him; apologize for your past mistakes.

from where you were, you couldn’t do much, but you used all your might to send rock flying in the air towards them meanwhile keeping gojo away from them. your cursed technique was called upon the tainted sorrow, the ability to manipulate gravity, and it was unrivaled in europe. you trained too much to reach where you were, the strongest just like gojo, but even the strong can fall, and all it takes is the blink of an eye.

you were on the ground again, but this time blood pouring from your insides, a deadly piercing through your abdomen. while you were so engrossed with trying to keep gojo safe, you hadn’t realized he was already off the piece of rock fighting the rest. and he had made the mistake of underestimating them, resulting in the struggle. but that distraction was enough for elizabeth to pierce the cursed knife through you.

one second you were on the ground; the next, you were in someone’s arms. looking up, you were met with the crystal blue eyes you had grown to love staring right back at yours. this reminded you of the moments where you used to lay on his chest, hands tangled in his snow-white hair, his hands keeping you tight against him, eyes staring at each other with nothing but love. how unfortunate things weren’t that way now. you bleeding onto his hands which hopelessly applied pressure to your wound in hopes of saving you, his blindfold now off, tears slowly caressing his face. it was a sight for the eyes. you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, imprinting a red hand mark right where you touched him, “satoru–”

“save your breath, i called for shoko; she’ll be here any minute, and we can save you–” you silenced him with your thumb on his lips, “satoru, this was inevitable, even if you save me now, they’ll still be after me. it’ll be a never-ending cycle.”

“no, i can keep you safe, y/n. remember? it’s us against the world, baby. always has been and always will be.” he kissed your forehead, still keeping you close. his eyes were shut tight; he could feel your consciousness slipping away and knew he couldn’t save you. but can’t a man hope? and as you uttered your last words, body temperature turning cold, breathing stopping, he knew right then and there this was where he lost it all. this was how he lost the light of his world, in his own hands, between his arms.

“for what it’s worth, i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard.” and he knew those words would haunt him for an eternity. follow him wherever he went. the ghost of you will always be with him, never leaving. you will hold him down by gravity with just your soul. yet he still wanted to curse the gods for taking you away from him, his fresh breath of air, his anchor.

your love was strong, but the timing was wrong, and love decided that you both didn’t belong.

#jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

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tommysparker · 3 years ago

Text

Never Forget You [Chapter 4]

A/N: hey y’all. just wanna say sorry for the posting schedule change. life is about to get hella hectic with school and the move sooo yeah. every second Saturday I will be posting! it’ll defiantly give me a chance to write more as well so im not rushing out chapters. anyways ive rambled long enough, enjoy :)

Warnings: angst. theres fluff too but its fluffy angst?? im not sorry hehe. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks.

From an outside perspective, one would assume the four of them were deep in thought, perhaps even communicating telepathically via the Force. They would only be half correct, as all of the Jedi were indeed thinking, but none of their trains of thought overlapped.

Anakin and Ahoska were in the pilot seats, glancing at each other every other minute or so. They could feel the tension build thicker with every passing planet. The only sound filling the room was the faint running of the engine that kept the ship moving.

You and Obi-Wan sat across from each other, neither one daring to make eye contact. Apparently, he was quite serious about the “not speaking from now on” agreement. It’s for the best, you kept telling yourself. However, the awkward silence that filled the ship made it harder to believe that.

Out of all the things that could happen to you at the moment, this was by far the worst.

On Gyfil, you had grown quite used to the sound of silence. In fact, over time you began to prefer it as opposed to the buzz of the towns. However, this was a different type of silence, one that had you bouncing your knee in anticipation for Anakin to announce you finally landed.

Master Yoda had called you all for a mission briefing. There was a supposed Separatist group meeting on Ostor, given the intel you received from a client on your previous mission. The four of you were sent to listen in on it.

“Young Skywalker and Padawan Tano, back up you will be. Great risks on Ostor, there are. Careful, you must be.” He turned to Obi-Wan and You. “Master Y/l/n, guide them you must do. In charge of the mission, I am putting you.”

A sense of pride filled your body but you quickly humbled yourself. “Thank you Master.”

Master Yoda smiled and turned to Obi-Wan. “Infiltrate the meeting, you and Master Y/l/n will. Stay together, you must.”

Obi-Wan would have laughed at the irony. Mentally he still is. Stay together, you must. After the last conversation between the two of you, he had doubts about how that plan would go. However, for the sake of the mission he was willing to lift the deal made.

You stood quietly, not being able to handle the loud silence any longer. “I’ll be in my quarters until we land,” you announced, making a point not to look at Obi-Wan and keep all attention to Anakin and Ahsoka.

You left without sparing a glance back.

He waited until you were out of view to let out a long sigh, running a hand over his beard and hunching forward.

Anakin was the first to speak. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to endure.” His shoulders shook as he made a disgusted sound. “Glad it’s finally over.”

“Just focus on getting us there in one piece, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped, immediately followed by, “apologizes, I didn’t mean to sound so...aggressive.”

“So much for being able to hide stress, huh?”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Some things are harder to deal with than others.”

“Is Master Y/l/n ‘some things’?” Ahoska asked innocently.

Obi-Wan pondered for a minute, deciding the best way to answer. “Master Y/l/n is...many things.”

“Like what?”

Gorgeous. Strong. Kind. Perfect in every way. “They are highly skilled, almost as well as I am, if not better. A fine Jedi and a valuable member to the Order.” He stopped there before he’d say something he’d come to regret. Best to keep professional thoughts.

“I still don’t understand why the Council sent them away like that. Surely there were other Jedi that could have completed the mission,” Anakin commented. He knew his former Master wasn’t satisfied with the answer they were all given but would never admit it. He had to push him to find the truth.

“Whatever reasons Master Yoda and Master Windu had for picking Y/n are between them. You must stop questioning the Council’s intentions, Anakin. It will land you in very big trouble one day.” Obi-Wan says as if he hasn’t second guessed the Order as a whole before. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. The less you question things, the easier life is.

“That’s why I keep you around, old man,” Anakin said in a teasing manner. Hearing Obi-Wan let out a light chuckle made him feel a bit better as they settled into silence once more, this time more comfortable and light-hearted.

A bit more time had passed before Ahsoka spoke up. “Why don’t you ask Master Y/l/n what really happened?”

Obi-Wan sighed. He should have known better than to believe she would drop the topic. Like Master, like Padawan. “It’s none of my business. Frankly, it’s none of ours so I suggest we leave the subject alone.”

His answer, apparently, wasn’t good enough. “I’m gonna go ask them.” Ahsoka stands up to leave but is stopped mid-movement by Obi-Wan’s protests.

“No!” He looked at Ahsoka’s slightly stunned face, and chose to ignore Anakin’s smug look. “Fine, I’ll ask them. But only once, and if they don’t want to indulge me then that is the end of it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

Meanwhile, you sat alone on the bed in your chosen quarters. It made you feel relaxed, in a way. Before leaving, you were extremely extraverted, always going out of your way to make acquaintances with everyone around you. The life forces around you at night kept you alive, it gave a sense of warmth and comfort to lull you to slumber. On Gyfil, there was none of that. You had to rely on your own warmth to comfort yourself to sleep. No lush trees or animals to provide even the smallest bit of connection. It was just You and the Force. Sleeping for the first time in the Jedi Temple after returning felt like a sensory overload. Everything was loud, and rough. You could feel it coursing through your veins at the speed of light. No matter what you did, it was too much.

You didn’t sleep the first few days. Eventually you got used to the noise, but not enough to get a decent amount of rest at night. There was one sound that sometimes made it impossible to sleep, one Force signature that kept trying to break through the walls you put up to protect yourself when you’re most vulnerable. What scared you the most was the fact your own signature subconsciously fought back against the walls you put. You refused to acknowledge it, choosing to fall into a deep meditative slumber and stay alert as opposed to any actual sleep. Whoever it was would not get into your head so easily.

Knock knock. Obi-Wan stepped into the room once his presence was made known, gently shutting the door behind him. “Y/n…”

You looked up and squinted at him. “I thought we agreed to not speak?”

“Yes, well, that proves to be a bit tricky now doesn’t it?” He smiled tightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

You huffed out air in a sorry attempt at a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head a little. “What do you want, Obi-Wan?”

It was neither hostile nor endearing. It was simply his first name. To him you sounded tired, and judging by the way you sat on the cot, leaning back against the cold metal wall with your eyes half opened, he presumed his assumption was correct. He spoke gently, “Anakin estimates we should be coming out of hyperspace and landing soon.”

“I figured.” It wasn’t your intention to be stoic but that's how you’ve been training yourself to speak to the man in front of you. The faster the conversation ends, the faster he leaves.

Obi-Wan, however, was not having it. “How are you feeling? I know it hasn’t been that long since you returned from your previous assignment.”

You shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fine.”

“No one who says that is ever truly ‘fine’ Y/n/n,” he says, taking a step closer to the bed. “I know you. What’s on your mind, darling?”

You slowly met his gaze, debating whether to open up or keep yourself closed off. On one hand, the idea of exposing your anxieties to someone didn’t feel right to you, letting someone know about your weaknesses and insecurities. However, you knew in order for the mission to succeed you would have to be willing to work with Obi-Wan and to do that a sense of trust had to be built. Rebuilt, technically.

“If you wish not to speak, I understand.” He hesitated turning his back to you, “excuse me.” He was about to make his leave before you interrupted.

“Obi-Wan, wait,” You sighed, shifting so there was room for him to sit on the bed. “Sit.”

He did as he was told, eyeing you carefully. “Honestly, I don’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine.” You knew his intentions and as pure as they were you cannot bring yourself to tell him the truth. “I admit that I...am slightly concerned about the mission.”

It wasn’t the answer Obi-Wan was hoping for, but he was willing to hear anything he could get out of you. “You have nothing to be worried about Y/n/n. You’re an extremely capable Jedi and I have no doubt in my mind you will lead us through it.”

You smiled, only slightly but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled back.

Your eyes locked tight with each other, and everything around you became emptiness. A void surrounded you both and the presence of the other was all that could be felt.

“Staring competitions are pointless.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straight and attempting to return your meditative state.

“No they aren’t!: Obi-Wan argued from his spot across from you.

“All you do is stare at each other until someone blinks. Waste of time.”

“Nuh uh. Master Qui-Gon told me that--” Obi-Wan stood up, “--‘The eyes are a window to the soul’--” you laughed at the bad attempt he made to mimic his Master;s voice, “--therefore staring competitions can be a very good battle tactic.”

“Jedi don’t do battles, remember? We’re peacekeepers.” You looked up at your friend. “Besides, you just want an excuse to get lost in my eyes.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “You know me so well.”

So much has changed about the man in front of you, you could hardly recognize him. You never allowed yourself the pleasure to examine what you missed out on. One moment he was a young man who looked like he could take on the universe, and now all you could see was one tired man doing his best. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, is what the old You would have teased. But post-living-ten-years-by-yourself You was different. In a way, you understood. Although you didn’t fight any life-threatening battles and put yourself in the line of fire every week, you have worked tirelessly towards the same goal.

Peace.

Like this moment.

For once, it was quiet. You felt yourself relax slowly, focusing on the one noise that soothed your anxious mind. It felt warm and...close. Something you haven’t felt in a long, long time.

Obi-Wan leaned closer, his heart reacting faster than his brain. He felt a warmth he had been longing for over a decade. When he reached out, he no longer felt desolate. He wanted to hold on to the feeling and never let go.

But alas in time of war, small moments of peace only last for so long.

“Hey! We’re here.”

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richietoaster · 3 years ago

Text

cut me through my skin

hello im posting a fic yaaay surprise!!!

read on ao3

words: 1,030

TW: blood, vomitting, vomitting blood (its a vampire/werewolf universe okayyy)

read unformatted version below:

--------------

“Are you crazy?! You can’t feed on Stan!”

A hungry, black-eyed Eddie is pulled away from the staircase that Stan is unconsciously leaning against. Richie struggles to hold him back.

“Let go-! I just need a little bit more-”

“When does it stop? What, huh?! You’re gonna kill him. You’re gonna kill him. This is what happens when you start drinking Live blood, and Stan is trying to help Bill!”

Eddie looks over to where Bill is lying at the bottom of the staircase, currently trapped in a dream world. He slumps down on their flipped living room couch. “I-I know, I’m sorry- I just.. Richie, try to understand. I’m a goddamn vampire.. I need- I need blood to survive! And I thought that I could be different, be better, but I just can’t, okay? I’m not cut out for this, okay? Bill has us trapped in our house all because he can’t get his fucking ghostly powers or whatever under control.. And that’s not even the worst part! I’m starving, you’ll be turning tonight, and Stan is a human.”

Richie apologetically looks away, and then sighs heavily, beginning to take his watch off. Eddie looks at him curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m being brave.. For all of us..” Richie holds out his arm to Eddie, and makes a fist. “Go ahead,” he tries to encourage, but he sees Eddie hesitate. “Come on, Eds.”

“Wh-? No, I can’t.”

“Well, you don’t really have any other option.”

“Vampires don’t drink from werewolves,” Eddie says.

“Why? Do we smell or something?”

“Yeah, actually! We’ve always taken the smell as a warning.”

Richie rolls his eyes. “That- That’s a thing? Like a legit thing? Eddie for fucks sake, if this is some type of weird vampire-”

“What? No, it’s just something we don’t fucking do. We have never done that.” Eddie shoves Richie’s arm away, but Richie pushes back.

“I have blood, you need blood, and you can’t drink from Stan- at least without permission.. Listen..” Richie crouches down in front of Eddie, holding his face. “I’m strong, alright? I can handle it. You need blood to survive, those are your own words.” He holds out his arm once more, “just do it.. And before I change my mind.”

Eddie takes in a deep breath and nods slowly, hand clasping over Richie’s fist. He’s ready to sink his fangs into Richie’s flesh but immediately pulls back.

“N-n-no-”

“Oh, come on-”

“It’s the smell!”

“I’m gonna fucking change my mind-”

“Alright, alright, give me a se- give me a second!” Eddie shakes his shoulders out once more and then lunges forward to begin feeding.

Richie is shocked at how it actually doesn’t hurt that bad, but before he can start his thought process of how he feels about all of this, Eddie stops, giving a very specific look, and wipes a stray blood droplet from his mouth, “It.. it tastes different.”

“D-Different? Different how?.. Do you think it’s because of the movie theater popcorn from-” Richie doesn’t finish his sentence before Eddie is diving back in for more. He hisses in pain- or pleasure? No, he doesn’t really know, it’s somewhere in between. A mix. All he knows is Eddie is getting what he needs from this, and Richie is.. getting.. Hard? Oh. Oh fuck.

Eddie pulls back for the last time, “Oh, god,” he gets up to pace around the living room, “I need to walk away.”

“Was it bad?” Richie asks. “It was bad.”

“No! It was good.. Too good..” Eddie bounces on his feet as if he’s experiencing an adrenaline rush. “I’m tingling. Like all over. Oh, man, I’ve never felt more alive despite not actually being alive.”

“Okay, so we’re- so we’re glad we drank me?”

“It’s just- I barely even touched you!”

“Well, I’m assuming that’s a good thing-” as if Karma had second thoughts, Eddie is buckling over, beginning to gag. “Eds, you okay?”

Eddie answers by throwing up the blood he had just drank from Richie.

After a couple minutes of Eddie puking blood and bleeding from his eyes, Richie is holding a warm wet towel on his forehead. “What.. What the fuck was that? Was that like, an allergic reaction or something?”

“What? No, Rich. That’s because I fucking drank werewolf blood. I told you we don’t do that- and it seems like that’s why.. Maybe I can go ask Pennywise if he’s ever-”

“-You said you would never go back to him, Eddie.” Ouch. The whole name.

“I’m not going back to him. But he is my maker and if he can give me an answer about why your blood caused me to react like that.. Then I’d really appreciate it. Because just seconds ago I thought I was going to die.”

Richie grins sheepishly, “But you didn’t.”

Eddie laughs. “No, no I didn’t.”

“Do you regret it then? Are you still hungry?”

“No and no. I don’t regret it and my appetite hasn’t changed. I still feel full, surprisingly. Just don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.” Eddie leans back onto the wall, legs spread, and lets out a sigh. “It just seems like anytime we make progress of.. Of being normal, we’re thrown three steps back.” He locks eyes with Richie, they’re screaming “HELP!” And they both know it. Eddie chuckles dryly. “We’ll never be normal, though, will we? We’re always going to be stuck.. We’re always going to be monsters, aren’t we? I just.. I just can’t slip again.”

“Hey.. hey.. Don’t talk like that, okay? You’re a monster with morals. You didn’t choose this life.. But you’re trying to make the best of it, right? We’re all trying. You’ve got me.. Me and Bill by your side. And maybe even Stan, if he doesn’t completely hate you for drinking him nonconsensually..” Richie looks over to Stan. He’s worried about him and Bill, but there’s nothing he can do about their situation. “We’ll..” He trails off, slowly moving his hand towards Eddie’s, “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Eddie’s eyes follow the motion, and copies it, linking their fingers together. “Yeah.. we will,” he says. It’ll just take some time.

kept some of my og tags but added those who asked to be added in!:

Perma taglist (ASK TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED):

@eds-trashmouth @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @s-s-georgie @tinyarmedtrex @are-you-reddie-for-it @richietoizer @richietczier @tk-strand @gczebos @your-mother-and-i-are-separating @derrylosers @thepurplepanther @tastytozier @melkene @whysthatsofuckingfunnydickwad @its-stranger-than-you-think @legally-devorak @s-onora @becauseweredeltairlines @lifesucksheres20bucks @soooobr @itmovieunofficial @tomhollandslefteyebrow @sloppybitchreddie @iwantmybloodonyourhands @pinkmedusa6 @fandomluvgirl @kelthehuman @panikki @ahhhhgh @eddiessecondfannypack @rainbowrabblerouser @stellar-alley @thoughtfullyyoungduck @k4spbrak @bi-bi-richie @bastardchildsbestfriend @sloppybitchreddie @yes-dillman-yes @missing-my-bones @eddiegaspbrak @punkassrichie @1rememberme1 @trashmouthbae @studpuffin @anderperries @plattitude @wishupontheecastiel @tinystarscapes @im-sam-fucking-winchester @softmikehanlon @wolfhardsgrazer

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 2019

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lunartearrose · 3 years ago

Note

Bestie tell me about xue rn on god I'm pointing my kensa splattershot pro with the mpu at u

WAAA OKEY OKEY-

Hehehe um. So. Like i said in the post! Xue is probably one of the newest in a long line of fankids (fansquibs as i affectionately refer to it as) umm- and like. For context there is a lot aloot of vintage ships i like and like. So. *cue visual of vintage holdin hands w skull, avi, emperor, double and kinda also specs bc everyone likes specs i decided like. What are we?*

And there is a generally deeper storyline i assure you that takes some explaining so im just gonna recap and keep in mind its generally a sorta inch resting story me n my gf have sorta made together (tho i do most of the art and writing and we bounce ideas off of eachother buuutt since i mainly wrote down a lot of it and have to keep changing lore to game standard i do a lot of the chara keeping and am rlly attatched to it)

Under the cut this got lengthy!

So the story of the fansquibs! Actually has backstory to it in the sense that there was a gross mean squiddyman called Sky. He was a big ol pain with no redeeming qualities and a lot of bad mafia man moneys. The basics is he meddles with the coroika cast in a way a lot of them refuse to talk about to their kids, but it ultimately ended up that the agents worked together to finally take the guy down, and he’s ended at the hands of skull, who regrettably couldn't catch the guy before he took out a family just to hurt the poor gentle-hearted squid, the only survivor of this drive-by massacre being Neon. The bab, a smol baby at the time and ten years away from turf maturity is rushed to the hospital bc like i said, Sky had intent to kill! Complications happen, she ends up with a blind eye and brain damage and the only person who she can remember from the tradgedy is Skull - who she connects as the person who must've killed her parents, cuz all she knows now is that she's in the care of Specs and Mask (the two even got a house built right by walleye to care for her in and care for her deeply). Anyways the day was severely traumatizing for Skull, he feels horrible regret for not being there in time to save Neon's mom and dad and removes himself without any explanation, keeping distance from Neon and taking comfort in his team and Avi, mainly, for support.

NOW, on the opposite end of things Vintage is a proud father of a mimic octoling he saved from octo valley. This is Xue, named so bc he wanted to give the lad an X name and Avi suggested such a short and elegant name. He was also involved in the hunt for Sky, and in this time Xue played a lot with the kids of those who Vin was close to (again this is the two aviskull kids, Rhodium and Sugar and Emperor’s son who i named somethin like Duke? But i wanna change that bc it sounds silly so doing research on royalty now ive decided on Majesty for now!)

Sugar and Majesty were, well, smol babies at the time and Rhodi was a timid adoptee that was only some years older and afraid of everyone, but regardless Xue liked them all and figured they were related since he saw them so often. Childhood attatchmrnt things! He would often take a sort of Vintage-shaped form to interract with them all.

But anyways, doing his part in wrapping up, Vintage soon discovered that Sky, in fact, had an Heir! This was Mint, an at the time just turf war aged kid who seemed quiet.

Vintage, rightly assuming his father mustve traumatized him and wanting to do right by Mint welcomes him into his home and just in general tries to be fatherly, giving a room and meals and all such things. Xue naturally tries to connect with mint, but very quickly finds out that Mint isn't nice, nor does he want to get better. The damage is done to Mint, and in his mind the only right way to be are the ways that his father had taught.

This results in not only the Near-murder of Vintage (kid literally nearly poisoned him and planned to finish him off with a house fire), but an arson attack with Xue that leaves him badly burned. Luckily the other Xbloods are back in time to save the two from death but Mint escapes into the night, not to bee seen again for some time.

Now, with Mint as a main conflict for a lot of the story years later, there are also a lot of ties to the damage his dad had done that were moreso gaping holes. What stops neon from being tricked by mint into finding Skull guilty? Who could have the time to spend to help Rhodium keep from getting back in his abusive relationship with mint? What would stop the innocent Majesty from becoming a ransom note? And who would simply intertwine themselves and his siblings with everyone to make sure that simply could not get an opening to hurt anyone else further?

The answer i came up with is Xue, a mischevious mimic that for various reasons can only use light weaponry. He tries to shoulder the whole sprawling mission himself having been witness to the worst tradgedies of team efforts, but two squids change this:

Neko cares more for Xue's well-being than Xue themselves, and gained a habit of tracking down Xue to make sure Xue sleeps, eats, and recovers when wounded. The only downside is Neko tends to get annoyed when Xue constantly gets up too soon and Xue finds out that if Neko has no time to cuddle Xue into submission hes getting cocooned snugly in a blanket! Neko also has a grappling hook setup so thats fun.

Now the other inkling that Xue knows:

That's Luci, hive's adopted daughter! Though she wasn't involved in the whole mint family thing directly, she is a guardian and intends to keep peace, not afraid to use the mind hacking she learned to accomplish it. She's more Rivals with Xue at first, especially bc Xue is teasing and rebellious, but over time comes to respect his drive to protect and often comes to his rescue in a tight spot. She's also neon's Cousin by blood, so take of that what you will take! She admires team neon of course, especially Mercury, but since they dont ever use Neon's silver ink Luci knows no connection.

Anyways, Xue ends up directing Neon in the right direction, giving Rhodi the push he needs to meet and connect with one of the strongest teams in Inkopolis for safety, and spends most of his time bribing Sugar with candy to stay out of trouble and driving off people that want to hurt majesty. Xue does a lot of work behind the scenes, all for the family that accepted him the most, all the while wishing to get Mint that sweet, sweet Karmaic retribution before he can do more damage than he's already done.

Oh, and he's also buddies with boron! Boron struggles with his reality and often suffers hallucinations and a few delusions, and Xue, taking boron's form, helped him out of a particularly harsh episode and stuck with him until Mercury arrived to collect. Boron wanted to pay her back for any trouble, but Xue assured him it was fine, and if anything, asked if he could keep using Boron as one of his main faces. Boron agreed, but made him tie his hair up so that people could tell them apart for the mostpart. They twin their gear in duo league, too! But buckets are heavy.

So that's the context for that picture, the shadow is no shadow self but Xue in disguise! Funny thing too, Boron’s team is slightly monster themed with him as the charming devil, whilst Xue is often reffered to as the Angel of X, as xe only does solo Q most of the time but his expertise often heralds a win the moment you're on the spawn pad with him.

Anyways tldr: Xue is caring, he loves xis family, they love their friends, and want to murder Mint for his crimes against her loved ones. Also goes by a lot of pronouns!

Abyways i hope you like the info dump! And sorry if the story is a bit too serious im trying not to introduce and kill my detested villain in the same chapter like i do because i fill them with every personality characteristic i hate. Abyways heres last nights doodle dump again cuz i love to see Xue in action

Eyes and teeth are giveaways btw

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #coroika oc #fansquibs #xue (oc)#mimic octoling #octoling #story #not sure if i should tag fansquibs as their ships tho!#ask #skullvins #note: mimic octos i hc get chipped bc otherwise its v easy for them to desert the octo army #double note: yea Vintage feels horribly guilty over what Mint did to Xue #im gonna go hide now

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strawberrycow-chan · 4 years ago

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Loving so far

Stalker Bakugou x GenderNeutral!Y/N (SFW)

TW: Yandere, Stalking, Mentions of Murder, Kind of Wholesome for a Yandere/Stalking fan fic ngl, Very slight NSFW Nope nope we’re gonna keep this one wholesome for now

So Im gonna start this off with some MHA Fanfic.I said I’d start off soft Im starting with some Katsuki Bakugou! I was going to start with Dabi but my mind literally always goes straight to the gutter when its about him because Im an Absolute degenerate :) SO BAKUGOU IT IS!!! Im listening to Brokendate at the momement so My mind is kinda in the mood for some “Standing in the ran late at night, when the streets are quiet and the Neon lights of the city make the ground glow like Toxic waste” Kind of vibe. Don’t worry Im not going right into NSFW stuff (because Its still light outside my house and this is literally the first story I’ve posted on Tumblr) But I might Will at some point ^^

-Cow Chan

Loving so Far

“God, What am I even doing here” Katsuki thought to himself as he stood below your windows for what seemed like the hundredth time. Staring up as the deafening rain surrounded him he watched you scrolled on your phone, Eyes fluttering here and there as sleep began to overcome you. You yawned cracking your neck and leaning your cheek on the hand not in use at the moment, Desperate to finish reading the story before you. Katsuku Closed his eyes for a moment, Imagining what it would be like to be there with you rather than out here. In that moment, the clatter of the rain and the distant sounds of cars faded, and all he could hear was the small but heavy breaths from your lips, The tiny twitches you made when you slept, the occasional sharp breaths you made as you shifted into a comfortable position. You’d be going to sleep soon and he Knew he couldn’t stay there any longer or he might just stay the whole night. He didn’t want to stalk you like this, it made him feel weird and creepy, which was quite the opposite of what he aspired to be. But He was scared he’d push you away if he really talked to you. I mean, he had anger issues yeah, but with you he never wanted to raise his voice. He had liked you since elementary school, but when you found out you had no quirk he knew that you’d start going to different schools at some point. But then you started hanging with that Stupid Izuku, Oh how that made His blood boil. To this day he still harbors negative feelings towards Midoria because of that. But You never put up with him being mean to Izuku. So he would just get mad and leave, not wanting to be mean to you but also not wanting to look weak. By middle school you two had gotten a little closer being in the same class and he soon found that this may be more than just a little crush. But, when it was time to choose high schools, He knew that he’d never see you again. On the last day of 8th Grade Graduation, he wanted to tell you Exactly how he felt for you. But, He didn’t want to put you on the spot like that so he decided not to... A decision he’d come regret for years to come. The following years he Worked hard, he wanted to become the best hero so that the day he does tell you how he’s felt, you’d stay with him because you’d understand that he was the only one who could really protect you. He had always remembered where you lived, and when you moved sophomore year he found your address rather quickly, not that it was far anyways. Ever single day after school and training, he’d made sure you got home safe before going home himself. And on days when he couldn’t like the time he got Captured by the league, Or went on a trip with his school, he’d always rush over, anxious that something had happened to you while he was gone. Yet, no matter how long he was gone, you were always as safe as bumblebee. He’d come late at night to see you, Hiding in the shadows only close enough to see you but not for you to see him. You often liked to read your silly stories. From the reactions you showed, he knew exactly what you read and when. You were such a strange person. On warm clear nights, when the moon was bright and the He’d always see your face stern with tension, eyes widening as you glance at you closet or under your bed. Horror, he chuckled to himself. And on Cold windy nights, your face always had a thrilled excitement laced across your face, sometimes pumping your fist or dancing around your room after you had finished. Adventures, Something you used to love doing as a child. But, your favorite stories to read, especially on nights such as this, your features would soften, a soft blush on your cheeks, the occasional lip bite. Yes, he knew very well that you were reading Romance. And Each time after you had finished a story, you’d stare outside longingly. Sometimes he wished that it was him you saw in that far love that clouded the very thoughts that you had. That if he did have the courage to knock on your door, you’d answer with a joy-filled smile and a big hug. That you’d sit down and talk for hours, laughing and sharing stories. That, by the end of the night when it was time for him to go, you could share a single kiss and a promise to see each other the next day. But, with how far he has already gone, he knew that it was all it will ever be. A thought. He could only love you from a distance, because if you got close, he was scared that you might find out just how much he really did love you. And you’d see what he did to the others that claimed they felt the same... So He pulled his hoodie further down over his face and silently slipped away into the night, smiling to himself at the thought of seeing you the next day.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #yanderebakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugousfw #mha x y/n #mha #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #gender neutral character #stalking #bakugoustalking #stalkingbakugou #cowchan

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floatinginwords · 4 years ago

Text

Saved by the Devil (8/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: you go missing and a lot of people get worried

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic..yet)

A/n: I actually wasn't gonna post today but this chapter fell out of me. Its funny how some days are tougher to write and others its like riding a wave. I hope everyone has a wonderful day :)

The man with the busy eyebrows and mustache called himself Inspector Campbell. A fucking police officer. When you came too you found yourself tied to a chair, ropes around your wrist and legs, tight against the skin cutting off blood circulation. He didn’t ask questions first. No first, was the punching against your ribs and stomach. Then your face. He didn’t give you no breaks, not like he would give you any.

“I think me and you have gotten fairly acquainted with.” The inspector say his foul breath reaching up your nostrils. Blood dribbled down your chin and nose. It was you could taste.

His men have left the room, on his orders of course. He leans on his cane as he stares at you from above. A evil smirk on his face as if he was some god looking down at his pitiful creations. You spit blood at his shoe.

He grabs your face harshly, you face scrunching up like a fish. “Tell me what you were doing with Thomas Shelby. Or I can make this night a whole lot painful for you.” He throws you back and all you do is glare at the man. Not saying a word. Not even huffing a sound.

The inspector laughs. And walks out the door. You see him point to you with his cane as he talks to the other men that were abusing you moments ago. You brace yourself for the inevitable. The torture last for hours.

******************************************************************************************

No ones seen you for three days. Ada, the first night you didn’t comeback, called Trinity. but she hadn’t seen you since the morning. The next day Ada and James went out looking through the streets at your usual spots. You didn’t have any Ada just wanted to feel as though she was doing something. You didn’t have any family or any other friends. Except one other person who may know your whereabouts. So on the third day of no trace of you, with a little nagging and encouragement from James and Trinity, Ada decided to make a call.

*******************************************************************************************

Over at May Careltons mansion, Thomas Shelby listens half heartedly to the woman discussing the progress on his horse. He could care less at the moment. He’s just thinking of ways that he could stay the night. He wasn’t a fool, he knew of Mays attraction to him. It benefited him in more ways than one.

“Excuse me, Mr. Shelby,” A maid interrupts May in the middle of whatever it was that she was saying, “You have a phone call.”

“I’m sure they can leave a message.” His eyes not leaving Mays

“Its your sister, she sounds urgent.” The maid says.

With that thought in mind, Tommy excuses himself from May.

“Ada this better be important.”

“Where the fuck are you,” Ada screeches over the phone, “Ive been trying to contact you everywhere and Polly tells me your-“

“What is it-“

“(Y/n) is missing.”

Tommy swallows hard. “I’m sure she’s around somewhere ada. How long its been?”

“Three days. No ones seen her. Tommy please, Im worried.”

Three days ago was when he last saw you. When you agreed to go to dinner with Alfie and Arthur You had left the car without another word. He wanted to follow you but decided against it. He was regretting it now.

“Ada, just calm down. Ill ask some boys to go look for her okay?” He reassures his sister over the phone promising to find you.

He hangs up.

“Is everything alright?” May asks from behind him. Her eyes were hopeful looking at him. She too was hoping he would stay though that was something she would never admit out loud.

“I have to go, family emergency.” He says. Turning his back on her without another thought.

***************************************************************

He didn’t have to leave. He knew that. He could have stayed with May have her fill that hole within his heart that Grace had left about a year ago. He owed nothing to you. He kept telling himself this over and over as he drove back, pushing the speed way past its limit. He begins to reminisce about your first meeting. You were nothing but a chess piece to him at the time but you surprised him a lot in that first meeting. Especially when you didn’t take that money he offered. He was confused to say the least. Everyone took free money. You didn’t. He remembers seeing you again at the Eden club. He though he would never see again. But there you were. He couldn’t not talk to you. He just had to. He knew he hurt you with his words. He didn’t apologize. He never apologizes. He remembers finding out Ada had a roommate. Imagine the surprise on his face when he realized it was you. Of course Thomas Shelby was always in control of his emotions so it never really showed. He was distrustful of you as he always is with people. But you showed something since your first introduction that most people didn’t show their entire lives; Honesty. And he liked that about you. He believed you when you said you didn’t work for Sabini anymore. (Of course he had his people look into it after to be 100% sure) He trusted you to go to meet his brothers, be in the same car as them, come to an auction. He remembers seeing you bloody and a mess. Guilt and rage had filled him up. He couldn’t hold himself back from shooting the guy. When he stitched you up, he liked that you tried to make conversation. You knew when to back up, you never pried. He didn’t know if that was fear of him or if that was just you. He hoped the latter. He liked the way you said Mr. Shelby, though he often wondered how his first name would sound falling off your lips. Thomas Shelby pushes these feeling aside as he drives. He tells himself he just doing this as favor to his sister and because you can be very valuable. But as he drives into the city, a piece of his mind whispers that that just might not be the only case.

*****************************************************************************************

Three fucking days. You couldn’t believe that that’s how long it lasted. The torture, the beatings. They released you on the thought that you really didn’t know anything. You never said a word. They drove you out to the fucking country side and dropped you off like you were trash. You were never more humiliated in your life. You walked, each step bring you pain and anguish. But you kept going.

‘Its Friday’ You think to yourself. You never got to call to confirm if you were going on that dinner. You laugh at yourself. Out of all things to worry about.

You find a little pond as you were walking and attempt to wash your face off all the dirt and blood. You looked half decent.

It took you till sundown to get back into London. People in the streets gawked at your face. You knew you were bruised pretty bad. Worse than before thanks to the inspector. The stitches on the right side of your body were now leaking. You can see the blood drip slowly through your hand. You sigh. Its always one problem after the next.

Once in front of the house, you see all the lights on. Something you knew Ada hated. You see multiple people moving about and you curse underneath your breath. The last thing you wanted was to interact with people. Someone looks through the window, a young boy you didn’t recognize.

“Is that her Ada?” You hear the boy loudly say not keeping his eyes off of you.

As soon as the boy says that, a multitude of people rush out to the window to look out followed by a rushing to the door. Ada being the first to run into you, bear hugging you.

“Where the hell have you been?” She cries out.

You stay silent, your arms limp across your sides. No energy left to pick them up or say anything. You wished at that moment to escape into eternal darkness forever. You see a bunch of people behind her mostly men. All in black caps and coats.

‘Peaky blinders.” You think. You step back from Adas hug and move up the stairs toward the house. The men spread apart not wanting you to push through them. You walk up the rest of the stairs to your room slowly. You can feel all their eyes burn into your back.

Once you reach your bedroom, you sit on your bed and stare at the empty wall. You couldn’t get the inspector eyes out of your head. It was like he enjoyed watching the life get beaten out of you. He talked a lot. You replay the last three days in your head trying to piece together what that crazy old man was talking about as he was ‘interrogating’ you

***************************************************************************************

As tommy walks through Adas door the first thing he realizes is that it seems that everyone is fucking here instead of doing their jobs. He watches them lounge about, eating and drinking away his sister’s stuff. He’s about to yell at them when Ada puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tommy She came home.” She says, he notices a lack of smile on her face.

He raises an eyebrow.

“She looks like she’s been beaten all over. I mean I only saw her face but the way she was walking…” Ada trails off biting her lip.

“Im gonna talk to her.”

“Tommy I don’t think-“

Hes already at the top of the stairs before she finishes her sentence. Its not hard to figure out which room is yours. For reason being your room is the only one open. He sees your figure sitting up just staring at nothing in the dark. He clears his throat, not wanting to scare you with his unknown presence. You don’t turn around. He takes slow steps around to sit next to you on the bed. You both face the wall.

“Its Friday,” you break the silence, “I apologize for not calling about dinner.”

Right, he almost forgot that Alfie and Arthur were meeting right now.

“Never mind that,” You suddenly get up as he talking, limping around the room, “what are you doing?”

You light a candle on the other side of the room. He sees how bad your bruised face is in the light. And the blood trail your leaving with your freshly open hand.

“(y/n), you should go see a doctor.” Thomas says standing up.

“I’ve been through worse, Mr.Shelby.”

“Who did this to you?” You notice the look of controlled anger on his face.

“Inspector campbell. Know him,” You ask sarcastically,” cause he really doesn’t like you.”

You laugh and wince, the action hurting your ribs immensely, ”oh and he sure talked a lot. Kept mentioning a general, if I knew him, if I seen him, if you told me his name,” you pause, “what are you planning to do with a general?”

He doesn’t answer you. The clocks in your brain keep turning. “Cause there’s only one thought that comes to my head.”

“Why did he question you?”

“Cause you took me to the fuckers house. And your being followed by the way.” A pain strikes through your head the more frustrated you become.

“You should lie down.”

“What did you get yourself into?”

“it doesn’t concern you.”

“Look at me, how does it not?”

He stares at you and though to you he looks emotionless, inside the feeling of guilt and fear are swirling. You on the other hand cant decipher anything that going on behind those eyes.

‘maybe this what he looks like when he is lost.’ You think. You know you could lend a hand through this, whatever it is. You assume an assassination. One the police are having a hand in themselves. When inspector Campbell was ‘questioning’ you, you noticed how it didn’t seem like he cared for the generals life but feared of who got a whiff of the info. It seemed that Mr. Shelby was getting something from it, maybe with you helping so can you. A ticket out of here perhaps.

“what do you want?” He says shrugging.

“I want to help.”

read pt.9