#this is word vomit im so ashamed

[widowmaxff]

Hello!! I was having some bad days recently, could u make a one-shot of moms!wandanat and reader with the reader having a bad week, and then Wanda and Natasha comforts reader? If you want to, of course!

enough for you

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader

warnings: bad thoughts, self-deprecating reader, lots of crying, one agent who really needs to stfu - i think thats all!

a/n: tysm for the request my love! im so sorry for the delay in posting this one shot, my life has been very busy these last few months. and i dont think this one turns out the way u wanted it, because i already made one like your request but w mom!wanda but i hope u like it :3

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You always saw yourself working for SHIELD. Being able to do missions and 'save the world' was something you always wanted to do. Having mothers who are considered super heroes was also something that made you inspired by this life, but you only saw it from the outside. How they were greeted by everyone or how it seemed so easy for them to do these hero things. But when you finally got what you wanted when you turned eighteen, it wasn't what you expected.

It was the third time in the last few days that you had messed up in a mission in which you were classified. The looks the other agents gave you at the Academy made you feel horrible. You obviously hadn't messed up the missions on purpose, you would never do that. But it seemed like all those people expected that every step you took would be right, that you would never make mistakes, and that you would be as good as your mothers. Your head hurt just thinking about it. And that thought led you to others, how ashamed you felt remembering how the other agents spoke mean words to you when, again, you messed up on the mission.

You tried to distract yourself from these types of self-sabotaging thoughts about yourself by training even harder. Punching and kicking the red cylinders using all your strength, and even after hours it still felt like you didn't feel good enough, strong enough. All you wanted was to just stop thinking for at least a few seconds, and when you heard those heavy footsteps you knew that wasn't what was going to happen. "Oh, look who's here!"

You didn't care about remembering that agent's name, but you remembered exactly her voice and face, because it was her who started the whispers about how you weren't like your mothers. How you spoiled the missions of the last few days of that week, how you will never be like them. "The daughter of the great Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, even if it doesn't seem like it." You continue ignoring her presence there, massaging your fingers to continue punching the red bag. "Do they know how you failed this last week?"

She wasn't stupid to know how horrible your week had been, how the failed missions, the disturbances and all those other things were making you almost have panic attacks right there in front of everyone. "No." Your voice was low, because you knew that if you exerted the necessary strength to reach a greater height, the tears would fall without your permission.

"What do you think they will do when they find out how bad you are?" She starts to approach you with those boots with a high step, her head lolling to the side with a tone to tease you. A smirk on her sharp face, her gloved hands resting on her waist. All those little details made you want to scream in her face, tell her that you weren't bad, but how would you say that if you didn't even believe it yourself?

"Maybe they'll get you out of here when they see how bad you are and realize that any of the agents here are much better than you, your place as an Avenger is almost invisible.” The girl laughs, her cheeks almost covering her eyes due to the action. At some other time you would find her features extremely beautiful, but at that moment, you wanted to vomit just looking at her.

Even if you tried to be strong at that moment, like your mother Natasha, you couldn't. Your fists were clenched tightly trying to control the tears from coming out, the pain of your nails in the palms of your hands trying to distract you from that moment. And every time that Agent mentioned your mother's name, your thoughts directed you only to them, how you wanted to be in their arms right now while you feel your hair being stroked by Wanda's magical hands. You knew that if you wanted comfort from your mothers they wouldn't wait a second to give it to you, and even if you didn't want to talk about why you were feeling that way, they wouldn't force you to talk.

"Where are you going? Ruin another mission?” If it weren't for the high-pitched, irritating tone of her voice, you wouldn't have even registered those questions in your head. Your thoughts were in a totally different space from that place, just wanting your mothers affection. So when you started packing your things and totally ignoring that Agent, you knew that your body wouldn't stop until you got home.

The girl's laugh echoed throughout the room as you headed towards the exit door of the place. In films, this scene would be dramatic, as if the main character was planning some revenge in their head to end the character who keeps provoking them. But at that moment you weren't thinking about revenge, or how you would turn things around, you just thought about how your mothers affectionate touches would turn that bad week into just distant memories. How you were sure that your mother Wanda would know what to say to you and how Natasha would know what to do so that your surroundings were just comfort.

You didn't wait a second before getting on your motorcycle, which Natasha had given you as a gift for your 18th birthday, and heading towards your childhood home. Even though those bad thoughts were in your head now and could possibly distract you in the traffic on the streets, you continued on your way with your eyes soaked with tears and the horrible tightness in your chest. You tried to think of good things, like your mom Wanda would probably be baking chocolate chip cookies and your mom Natasha would just be watching, since cooking isn't one of her great talents, but that domestic situation was pretty far away for you. It seemed that any self-deprecating thought stood in the way, a great layer of ignorance about happiness.

You didn't bother to park the motorcycle correctly, just running towards the entrance porch and knocking, almost softly, on the door. You heard some sweet giggles through it, confirming that your mothers were in some domestic situation, before the door calmly opened and revealed Wanda's long red hair. Her smile opened for a few seconds when she saw it was you, their beloved daughter, but when she came across the features on your face, the reddish eyes with lakes over them, her smile soon fell apart, taking its place a worried look. “Sweetie? What happened, my love?"

She took no time in taking you into her arms, even though you didn't answer her question. Your head falls on your mother's shoulder as she wraps one of her arms around your waist and the other massages the hair spread across her chest. Your hands tightly grip the blouse stuck to Wanda's body, as if at any moment she would come off and no longer provide the comfort you needed. Natasha heard your sobs from the kitchen, and she knew they were yours, she knew and kept almost everything about you. She quickly heads towards the front door, seeing her wife's back being grabbed by you, and how your body looked like it would fall to the ground at any moment.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Wanda whispered in your ear with her sweet voice. Your crying was loud, as if you had kept it for several days, your mother thought. She didn't know and had no idea why you were sobbing uncontrollably and why you arrived so early that day. Normally you would be completing some report, or training, since you always said how strong you wanted to get. But at that moment, everything didn't seem strong to you.

At some point you were carried and taken towards the comfortable sofa in that house. Your thoughts were so loud that you didn't even notice when you were positioned on your mother Wanda's lap. She still kept her grip on his body and the affectionate words in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Her breathing became heavier and slower, forcing it so that at that moment you could keep up with her. Natasha, beside you two, continued to caress your back, praising you for following Wanda so well.

You finally managed to take a deep breath after what felt like hours of crying and sobbing. Your gaze fell from your mother's eyes to your hands in your lap, you felt embarrassed. Maybe because you were 18 and sitting on your mother's lap, or because you were crying uncontrollably without being able to breathe properly, or because you failed at the only thing you wanted to do at SHIELD. “I feel like a baby.” You say in a low voice, almost making your mothers not hear, even with their proximity.

"Well, you're our baby." Natasha says making you finally let out a laugh between your lips. “Do you want to tell us why you're so sad, my love?” You didn't know if you wanted to tell them or not, the negative thoughts making you think they were going to fight you, tell you how bad you are. So, you shrug and lay your head on Wanda's shoulder again, but in a position so you could still look at your mother Natasha. “I just- I had a bad week.” You murmur, closing your eyes to feel the comfort that place brought you. “And, um… I think I should stop being an Agent.”

That took their mothers by surprise. You always said you wanted to be one of the people at SHIELD and you always trained to be one of the best at that place. “Oh, and why do you think that?” Wanda questions. Even though you didn't see her, you knew she would be looking at Natasha, as if they were talking through looks.

“I’m not good enough.” You felt Wanda's body tense beneath you. Your mothers always knew how much you felt like everyone was better than you, how hard it was to believe you were good at something. “This week I- I ruined every mission I went on,” Your mother's blouse was soaked with your tears, and now she could once again feel the salt water falling from your eyes through the fabric. “all the Agents are making fun of me because of it. They say I will never be like you.”

When you finish speaking, Wanda's grip on your body becomes even tighter, you feel Natasha's hand in your hair, stroking it as you hear her sigh deeply. “I've lost count of how many times your mother and I messed up a mission.”

“What?”

“There were several times when I blew up my teammates, for example, Uncle Tony was probably the one who received the most blasts.” Natasha says, making the three of you laugh at the words. “What about the times your mother mistook me for enemies and threw me out of buildings with her magic? We had to stop missions many, many times.” She emphasizes the word 'many', as if she were singing it.

“Remember when I joined the Avengers, Nat?” She was asking your mother, but she was talking so you could listen. “I was much older than you, Y/n/n, and I couldn't do half the things you do today at SHIELD, even with my powers.” She leaves a kiss on your head before continuing. “In every training session I did, I always ended up on the ground.” You laugh again, feeling much lighter than before.

”And you want to know something? I bet you were the one doing all the mission stuff, huh?” Natasha says. “Because if no Agent has ever made a mistake on a mission, then they aren’t real Agents.”

“Your mother is right, make mistakes is human, my love, and everyone will do it one day.” You feel your thoughts start to ease now. The tears stopped falling down your face and only lightness is in their place. Your mothers always knew what to do to make you feel good.

"You're right..." You finally admit, lifting your head from your mother's shoulder and looking at the two women in front of you, seeing nothing but affection and truths.

Wanda sits you down on the couch before getting up and ruffling your hair. "Now, don't worry your pretty head about that stuff and just think about the cookies that are going to go into your stomach in a little while that obviously weren't made by Natasha!"

"What do you mean by 'obviously’?" You laugh at that one scene, seeing Natasha's arms cross under her breasts as an indignant expression is placed on her face.

And at the end of the day you knew that you wouldn't have to worry about anything - just your mom's delicious cookies - and that you knew that your moms would never think about fighting or being upset with you. And Natasha would definitely make sure you didn't need to worry about that Agent who wouldn't leave you alone. That bitch will obviously never set foot in SHIELD again.

[icarusredwings]

Snippet of my one fic series im calling

"Finding home."

This comes after DOG TAGS. They're spending the night at the Xmen mansion when someone pays them a visit. Established Poolverine.

Warning: Wade is just.. Wade. Logan (worst wolverine) is learning to stand up for himself, Complicated stuff with Jean Grey and other xmen characters. Post unknown context.

Angst, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff.

Coming into the room, Logan had found Wade lying down. Sprawled out beautifully like a dame in one of those fancy paintings. As if he was worn out. This had pleased him greatly. It meant he had so much fun that he was satisfied with the level of exercise and socialization for today. Something that was a rare sight.

Walking over, he climbed into the bed with a big smirk, pulling him close, underneath him.

“Hey..”

“Hi.”

He chuckled softly, starting to kiss him all over. The kind of kisses that meant he was hungry for something more, already nipping at his lips and his neck. Putting his head back into the silk pillows Wade groaned, putting his hands up to the back of his head, beginning to pet him.

Sliding his shirt up, It wasn't often that Logan let himself wonder so confidently. Which is why Wade whined, his stomach fluttery a bit as he groaned. Maybe it was because Logan was leaving a trail of nips down his abdomen or maybe it was because of how nauseous he was getting, but something wasn't right.

“Oh god. I usually would never in a billion life times say this but.. Stop?” What ever has gotten into Logan had got him good because he only chuckled again and bit his ear, Holding him by the hem of his jeans. “Sorry, Bub, But you're all mine now. Stuck with me. So get used to it because you're gonna be scr-”

“Logan Stop.”

Almost instantly, Like a switch he sat up, No longer touching him. In Fact the look he gave him was filled with concern and almost ashamed for the things he's done. For not stopping the first time. There've been plenty of times where stop didn't actually mean it, but he knew better when it was said in that tone.

This only made Wade pout more. Look at him!! All confident and ready to play the way they've been training his self confidence for. And the dirty talk too? Come on! How he was sitting like this? All obedient and worried for him? Ugh! He only wanted to fuck him more now. It wasn't fair.

“I'm gonna puke.” He stated a quick explanation that made the man frown, his thoughts instantly going to because of him, as if he were too gross to play with, but a single brain cell pipped up as he remembered his dear fiancé was not new to throwing up.

“If… if you don't mind. Do you think we could just cuddle tonight?” He asked, looking almost ashamed of himself too, feeling bad for turning him away.

“Yes. I mean- Of course… Do you want help?” Watching him light up like a puppy with hope to be helpful.

Wade couldn't help but stifle a laugh, giggling after the scoff. “Can you hand me that trash can? And.. maybe look away. Or something.” He muttered, not liking when people saw him so gross, especially not him. No one wanted to kiss you with vomit in your mouth. Within a few seconds, He fetched the trash can, sitting next to him as he rubbed his back.

“You're alright.” He whispered, reassuring Wade that it was okay, that he could do whatever he needed to do, and no one would be mad at him. Sometimes, he became upset with himself for times like this. Thought it ruined the moment, and past shitty hookups have convinced him it was true and his fault.

This was the opposite of looking away, but no one really wanted to be alone when sick.

“You're burning up…” he mummbled, looking away but kept his hand on him as he hurled, gagging and grunting how much he hated doing this.

Listening to him try to catch his breath was the worst part for him, knowing how sensitive he was to unauthorized breath play and cancer didn't exactly believe in safe words.

“I know.. I know.” It took him about a month to finally get it when he first moved in, that Wade wasn't lean and thin because he wanted to be, Rather, he could barely keep anything down some days.

“It's alright. Hey. You're okay. I got you.” He whispers to him. Wade put his head back, tears in his eyes as he breathed deep and slow.

“There we go. Better?”

Starting to nod, this quickly became a shake of his head, putting his head in that trash can again. Oh, the poor thing…

Opening the door, Logan swallowed as he saw her. “Hey…”

To make matters worse, there was a knock at the door. God, they couldn't catch a break, could they? Without even getting a chance to ask, Wade went off to the bathroom, slamming the door. He always did prefer a toilet, really. It's much easier to throw your guts up when you don't have to worry about holding a bucket full of vomit. Much easier to clean up too, just flush it instead of rinsing it and cleaning it with soap.

“Erm.. Hi?”

“Look.. Logan I- We.. we're sorry. For everything.”

Crossing his arms he looked away, leaning against the door frame. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yes. You very much do. You claim that you're different, but the way you've been acting shows that we even hurt you in your timeline, too. So.. While I don't know what we did then, I want us to be on good terms.”

“Us?” He asked, a little confused, shaking his head a bit. “Jean.. that was a long time ago. And you're not even the same person. I'm not even the same person.”

Blinking, Logan looked outside of the door, as if trying to see if there was anyone else. “I'm sorry- this is bothering me. We?? Who's we?”

“I know.. but that doesn't mean we can't apologize... Maybe start over? We would like that."

“Well.. you know how he can be.”

“Jean, Usually when people apologize, they're in person and say it to their face. Not send their pregnant wife to come confront them by herself.”

A Small look of horror came to her face, as if she hadn't told anyone else yet. A look that said ‘How did you know?’ But she only sighed.

“Only ever what mattered…” His nose crinkled a bit, Able to smell it. She wasn't far enough along for him to tell if it was a boy or a girl, but the baby was healthy. That's all that did matter to him. There was nothing wrong with worrying for a friend's child.. was there?

“I never could hide anything from you...Could I?”

“Logan, Please. He really is sorry. He's just.. you know.. with the school and you of all people know how much a man's egos can get in the way of things...” She mumbled, taking his hand, rubbing over his knuckles.

She wasn't even doing anything with her powers, and yet he felt this intense wave of relief fall over him, only for it to be instantly covered with a sense of protectiveness. She always had that effect on him. He wanted to protect her no matter what.

Swallowing again, he pulled his hand away as it started to sweat.

“That's exactly my point.. If he actually was sorry and believed he did do something wrong, He'd be standing here with you, now wouldn't he?”

“That's not-”

“I'm not finished!” He growled, tired of being spoken over. Wade did a hell of a job to connect his emotions to his mouth, and now he wasn't shutting it off. He worked hard to turn his grunts into words. And she would litsen.

Becoming quiet, she nodded, Implying that he could finish without another interruption.

Taking her other hand, he held both of them.

“I know you're an independent woman. You always have been. But you shouldn't have too. You need a man that will not only defend you, but will take care of you, and stand next to you for things like this.”

This speechless promise quickly becomes a lie. “Logan-” Her eyes were almost… hopeful.

Tears welled in her eyes but wouldn't let them drop.

“I'm not that man.” He started, shaking his head slowly as he did, not wanting her to get any ideas.

“Not anymore… Do you understand? Hell, Even Forge stands up for Ororo and would defend her until his last breath despite her practically being an all-powerful weather goddess!... and your husband won't even stand next to you while saying sorry? Think about it.”

“F-for what?”

“Jean, I'm sorry.”

“Because I'm happy. I was never going to fit into your marriage. Not ever. Not… well. At least. Everyone thinks that relationships are finding someone who matches your puzzle piece. When in reality it's finding someone who's willing to change pieces to fit. I mean- I'm engaged now!” He whispered this bit, almost excited, leaning down some to talk to her.

“Is.. he okay?” She asks.

“How crazy is that? The Wolverine settling down? Crazy to think about. And with a dying maniac at that.” He smiles, only to frown, hearing a big cough and a groan of frustration from the bathroom. “Oohh Fuck..” It said.

He now stands, putting his hands in his pockets. “He gets tummy aches.” He lied, whispering. “Gluten sensitivity.”

“Ooh…then why is he-”

Just before she could say it, Wade came out with a stretch, seeming better as he dramatically held his stomach.

“We're pregnant!!”

“No- we are not.”

“Pfft-” snickering some, Logan put his hand to his face, rubbing it embarrassedly.

“Oh we so are! Don't you remember? It's the only reason he's marrying me really. Got me knocked up and now we're having A shotgun wedding. How scandalous! I can see the headlines now.”

“There's not going to be any headlines, you lunatic!” He chuckled, almost at the brink of giggling.

A frown came to her face, only to softly smile.

“... I've never seen you laugh like that before.”

“Huh? Oh… heh.. yeah. I uhm… I didn't know that I could..”

“Hmm.. Well.. I guess I should be going..” She whispered. “Leave you two alone..” Turning to leave, she had mixed feelings about the interaction. Happy for him yes, but also now had other topics to think about.

“Mmh.. Yeah.. Oh- And Jean?”

Turning, the hope in her eyes made him frown, feeling sort of bad for being kind of a jerk to a pregnant lady. “When Scott grows some balls? He knows where to find me.”

Sighing, she nods. “…Goodnight, Logan.”

“ ‘Night.”

Closing the door, he came back to bed, still giggling a bit. “Why did you tell her we're pregnant? I can't get you pregnant, idiot.”

Laying on the bed, Wade looked slightly offended. “Are you calling me a liar!?”

“I'm calling you the biggest liar.”

He shrugged. “Oh well. And who knows? Maybe I got a cancer baby in there or something.”

Rolling his eyes, He climbed under the blanket with him. “Oh shut up. You don't have a cancer baby.”

“You never know…So…marrying a dying maniac?”

“Oh… how much of that did you hear?”

Grunting, He rolled over, Putting his face in his hands again. “Nngh.. I'm sorry.. I didn't mean for you to hear all that..”

“The bathroom has surprisingly thin walls.”

“It's alright. It's always nice knowing that you're just as big of a whore as I am.”

“Hey! Am not! It was just… complicated.”

“That's what whores say when they can't pick one dick to ride” he giggled, Rolling over to climb into his chest, nuzzling up under his chin.

“Are…are you sure you aren't happier... here?” He asked, the questions slipping out.

So many things were running through his mind, things that he probably shouldn't be thinking but he's learned that as long as it stays in his head, no one would get hurt… except.. that was the hard part.

Logan let out a deep sigh. “Wade?”

“I mean- Do you even like that i'm with Vanessa? What were you doing? Being a barrack bunny? But for the mansion? The mansions personally sex pet or some kinky shit like that?”

“Yeah, yeah.. shut up.. I know...”

“Wade.”

“hm?”

“I let you cut up my dog tags…and turn them into a ring”

“Technically Forge did that- actually.”

“.. a ring that you own now.. right?”

“Uh… yes?”

“And dogs go with their tags.. right?”

“I guess so?”

For a few seconds there was silence.

“So what does that mean?”

“25- no! 26. I'm pretty sure it's 26.”

“What?” He laughed. “That wasn't even a math question.”

“Ugh, just tell me. I'm not good at stupid riddles! If I ever met the riddler I'd just shoot him in the face.”

“The who-? erm, nevermind. If the tags belong to me. Yes?”

“Ok..”

“And now you own them. Yeah?”

“Okay..”

“Then that means..”

Blinking, he suddenly gasped a few seconds later, going into a giggle fit as he held him tight. “Oohh!! I wanna get married!”

“We will. Just not yet.”

“Tomorrow!!”

“No-”

“Why!?”

He wasn't tucking and running anymore. He would stay like a loyal mutt. As long as he wore that ring on his finger, he'd follow him. Whether here, or at that shitty apartment. He didn't care which.

“Because.. you deserve a good one. And good ones aren't planned overnight.” Logan smiled.

“And for your information… I was always the Barrack bunny..”

“GASSSP!! No way!! Same!”

“Yeah I figured that much… and.. As for Vanessa? We're inviting her to the wedding right?”

“Obviously. Duh.”

“.. Go ahead and kiss her after me.”

“Shut up and take orders, Wilson.”

“Really? But that’s- I don't think-”

“Yes sir!.. erm... peanut?”

“Do you still want too?....you know”

“Hm?” It was these late night talks that really made him enjoy having him around. The pressure on his chest, the gabbing, the giggles. It made him feel young again.

“Eh.. not really. 'm tired."

“Oh thank god! My stomach is killing me.” He groaned. Shifting them to lay on his side, Logan pulled him close into his chest, rubbing his stomach softly.

“Behave, Jr.” He mumbled, earning himself another laugh and a deep kiss. “Mmh..” intertwining their hands, Wade curled up against him, happy as always just to be next to him.

“...I love you..” Holding him in his arms as he said this, he felt embarrassed and almost.. nervous. As if he wouldn't say it back. But if there was anything about Wade he knew, it's that he'd never skip a beat to reciprocate affection.. something he wasn't used too.

“..How much?” Usually, he wouldn't ask such childish things. But Tonight? He might have needed it.

“I love you too, Logan. A lot.”

“I'd fight the entire world.”

“You do that anyway. More than tacos?”

“Woah there, Angelcakes! Know your place.”

They both laugh, the giggles die down, and snoring replaces the sounds.

[inkybloom-luv]

hi hi inky!! i hope youre doing well!!! i thought about my request and i decided to do something basic ^^ i hope asking for headcanons is okay? i didnt see any hc specific rules so UH IF!! YOU DONT WANT TO WRITE HCS DRABBLES ARE FINE!! WHICHEVER IS EASIER FO RYOU IM NOT PICKY!!!

im sure a lot of people can relate to this so yk,,, may i request azul (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and trey with a significant other thats very reserved around new people (like clings to them during social events and group projects but is still capable of working on their own if that makes sense?) just overall someone who feels really safe with them!! and theyre super bubbly and teasing when theyre around but with everyone else theyre :I

I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE?!?!? AND IF YOU DECIDE TO WRITE THSI REQUEST I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN!!! SUPER EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU WHIP UP EHEHEHEH and make sure youre drinking water and resting when you need to ^^ i will stop mothering you now just know that jamil loves u <3

Shy? Not quite

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Heyyyy I'm genuinely ashamed at how long this took me but ig I just needed better music?? Literally the second I put on the song I'm listening to rn it just came out like organized word vomit- anyway!!! HOPE YOU ENJOY I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT

Characters; Trey Clover and Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Trey and Azul hc's with a S/O who is reserved around most others, especially in a social setting but bubbly and teasing around them

Gender neutral pronouns used!

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Trey Clover

• I feel like Trey knows how to deal with a S/O that behaves in such a way

• He has siblings and in a way that’s how they act. That means he, in a way, knows how to handle the situation, but that doesn’t mean he’s not surprised when they act like that the first time.

• He remembers that clearly, they were teasing, joking and laughing on their way to an event but how much they quieted down once there almost shocked him.

• Almost because his sibling mode kicked in. He didn’t even realise until he’d taken most of the attention off them actually

• He didn’t ask what exactly happened with them at the event but when they left and were sitting back at home he did.

• He felt happy when they were back to their usual self although the teasing did make him grin sheepishly.

• He felt even happier when he learned the true nature of that shift; the fact they felt so safe with him that they could be themselves. The teasing sure did always catch him slightly off guard though

• Expect your favourite treat the next day with a sweet note and perhaps a few extra bits of affect here and there throughout the day

Azul Ashengrotto

• On the outside you wouldn’t think Azul was all that affected by his S/O’s behaviour

• Oh how wrong you’d be because he was very much affected!!

• Not that he chose to show it mind you, but their behaviour sure threw his poor heart through a predator-filled tsunami

• Regardless of that his acting barely faltered at the event itself though he did shoot them quite a few more glances than usual, as he was actually worried they were not feeling well.

• He actually asked about half an hour to an hour into the event if they were alright due to their suddenly much cooler nature.

• They were handling tasks with others rather well but still he was worried, so it put them at ease when they said everything was alright.

• He told them to speak up should they be uncomfortable or not feeling well regardless though.

• Like Trey he also only asked once having left the event and in the privacy of his office.

• To say his heard sputtered and his cheeks grew red for long enough to be caught like that would be divulging secrets, but here we are anyway.

• He did catch himself but he now knew they felt safe with him, safe by his side.. and perhaps he’d recognise soon he feels the same way about you.

[cupoftaae]

also could you write one where tae and y/n had a small fight before a party, but they still decide to go, then y/n drinks way too much bc of the fight, and then taehyung takes care of her and they make up the next morning or smth like thatt 😊 I love your writing!🫶🏻

OOO I love me some angst, *rubs hands together*

Thank for the suggestion, and thank you for reading my writing, it means a lot to me anon <3

word count- 2.1k

warnings- alcohol consumption, body image issues, a fight and some yelling/swearing. wicked hangover and mention of vomit.

Enjoy!!

"I dont understand why you are freaking out, y/n. You look fine"

Taehyung sat on the end of your bed while you stood in the bathroom, rambling about yourself. "because, we are already late and im not really in the mood to go to this party. I hate the way I look in this dress, nothing is working out" you exhale, a tear falling down your cheek as you attempt to curl your hair.

Both of you were getting ready to go to Yoongi and his girlfriend's engagement party, something that has been in the works for months and is finally happening.

You knew you were already a half an hour late, which looks bad not only for tae, but you too, considering you and Yoongi's girlfriend, Jihyo, were friends.

"then just stay home" he shrugged, standing to go lean against the doorframe to the bathroom.

"oh yeah just that easy, let me miss my friends party" you sarcastically spoke. "bet you would like that, to go alone because you are so ashamed of me" you went on, spraying hairspray.

Taehyung ran his hands over his face. He loves you, he really does, but its impossible to convince you to see the bright side of things when you got in your head like this.

you slammed down the can of hairspray and stormed out of the bathroom, bumping into taehyung on the way out. "you are being way too dramatic right now, its not a big deal." he sternly spoke, turning his entire body to watch you rummage through your shared closet.

you stood and looked back, "oh okay" you laughed sarcastically. "you are a man, you dont have to think about yourself the way I do" you huff and walk towards the mirror.

"im tired of looking like this, I want to just be able to put something on and feel beautiful for once" you whisper while running your hands over the front of your dress.

"I think you look sexy" taehyung mindlessly shrugged, making you scoff. "God, thats all you think about, huh?" you shot back.

"What? no-"

"lately you've been incredibly invalidating of how I feel and i'm sick of it"

"How the fuck am I invalidating? Im trying to help, Y/N!!"

"no, you arent. you think you are, but you dismiss what I say, every time I fucking open my mouth Taehyung." you yell, grabbing your purse and walking to the door as your boyfriend followed.

"fine then I will just not talk" he mumbled, making you roll your eyes at his childish behavior. "Yeah, you do that. In fact, dont talk to me all night." you mutter and turn to head for the car, leaving taehyung to follow.

He didnt mean to upset you, he really didnt. He just doesnt understand what you couldnt like about yourself. Perhaps there were better ways to approach you regarding this topic, but right now, the priority was at least showing up to the party before yoongi or Jihyo gets upset.

The car ride remained silent the entire time Taehyung drove. You looked out the window and had slapped his hand away the moment he tried to reach out and squeeze your leg lovingly.

He just doesnt get it, he doesnt understand how you feel, and its not like you can talk it out with him because he always shoots back some fucking stupid line thats is supposedly trying to make you "feel better". Its getting old, and the only thing you wanted to do right now was be away from your boyfriend.

-

Once you both had arrived at the party, Taehyung parked the car along the curb with the other guests vehicles. You hopped out the moment the car came to a stop, practically skipping inside and leaving him in the dust. He scoffed and locked the car, getting out and walking in at his own pace.

"Y/N!" Jihyo smiled and ran over once she saw you inside her home.

You pushed through some of the guests and made your way over to your friend, hugging her affectionately. "Hi, congratulations! im sorry Im late" you pout and pull away to see her. "No worries love, is taehyung coming too?" she asks, pulling you into the kitchen.

"mhm...unfortunately" you laugh and grab a cracker off the snack plate. "unfortunately?" Jihyo smiles and nudges you. "yeah. We had a fight before we got here" you whisper to her, eyes darting to see Taehyung walk into the living room with a wide boxy smile as he greeted everyone.

"Ohhh.." she nods, understanding. "Im sorry, hun" she rubs your arm. "its ok, I just need alcohol." you joke, making her laugh as she dragged you into Yoongi's wine room, something he was immensely proud (and pretentious) of.

"I think he wont mind If we use this one" Jihyo spoke, reaching for the top bottle and bringing it back into the kitchen for the both of you.

"Taehyung!!" Yoongi cheered, walking back downstairs to see his friend standing in the living room. He hands him a bottle of beer and hugs him.

"Hyung! Congrats again, you and Jihyo have a very lovely home. Its changed so much since last July when I visited." He smiled, thanking him for the beer as they engaged in conversation. "Thank you, we renovated the kitchen and expanded it, wanna see?" he asked with excitement, tae nodded, following him.

"yeah so then I came home and he just kind of blurted it out, it was really sweet and intimate, I actually preferred it over a public proposal." you watched as your friend refilled your glass, telling you the story of how Yoongi proposed.

"ah, Jihyo thats so sweet" you put your hand over your chest, taking another sip as you lean against the counter. "I hope I get to experience that"

"taehyung is a sweet guy, i have no doubts he will pull out all the stops for you" she smiled

"hm?" taehyung mummers, walking in and hearing his name.

your eyes dart open, mad he had found you. "yoongi!" you walk over and hug him, congratulating him.

"Y/n! its nice to see you again, been way too long" he laughed and patted your back. "do you like the kitchen? he cuts, Taehyung watching as you sip on your wine.

"its lovely!!"

"indeed" taehyung adds on, stepping in front of yoongi to stand behind you.

"hes always talking about his kitchen" Jihyo giggled and walked up to her fiance, hugging him. "well yeah it was a lot of work" he shrugged and laughed

you smile as you watch them both be cute little shits, reluctantly turning when you feel your boyfriends hand tickling your lower back. "what??" you bit, making his hands raise in defense.

"youre still mad?....baby..cmon" he whined, trying to pull you into his embrace but you step back and leave the kitchen, going to have fun with the other guests in the living room.

yoongi pulls away from his soon to be wife and raises his eyebrows, full of questions. "they had a fight" jihyo giggled and patted his chest, walking out of the room as well.

"ah jihyo, wait" Taehyung runs up, whispering

"hm?" she turns

"make sure she doesnt drink too much, please?" he asked with serious eyes, making her nod. "shes a big girl, I think she will be okay but yes, ill keep an eye on her" she smiled

"thank you, shes not usually a drinker but tends to overdo it sometimes when shes angry..."he spoke, laughing a bit at the end.

Jihyo giggled, "gotcha"

he looked over at you hugging your friend and dancing slightly. you looked so beautiful and all he wanted to do was wrap you up in his arms and kiss you, but he couldn't. He needed to apologize for hurting your feelings, but there was no way you would even let him go near you to do so.

He sighed and sat down, accepting another beer as he silently ate chips.

-

"IM A GROWN WOMAN, I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!!!!" you slurr-sing as you and your friend Chae sing along to karaoke after having a few drinks.

most of the guests had left, and it was nearing midnight, so the remaining party-goers were you, Taehyung, Chae, namjoon and Jungkook.

Taehyung was ready to tap out. He was exhausted, and didnt think he was going to be here this long. The only reason he still is, is well, you. He sat on the couch between yoongi and jungkook, fighting sleep as he watched you let loose with your friends.

You still hadnt talked to him for the majority of the party, but somewhere deep down he was actually glad to see you happy for the first time today.

Jihyo giggled and ran back downstairs as she watched them sing, sitting next to yoongi. He sternly looked at her, "what did she drink?" he asked, taehyung leaning over to look at jihyo as well.

She smiled and mumbled, "some wine..."

yoongi sat up "what wine?"

"your....wine..."she tried not to giggle as taehyung glared. "I told you to not let her drin-" taehyung was cut off as you ran over and sat on him.

He blushed and lightly placed his hands around you, "you ok?" he asked, "im tired" you yell, meaning to whisper but failing to do so.

"okay baby...you wanna go home? good job singing by the way"

you sat up immediately and crossed your arms. "im supposed to be mad at you" you slurred, turning to walk away but stumbling and almost falling, "be careful!" tae spoke, jumping up.

"Ill be whatever I want!" you bite back.

"i think we are gonna go, im sorry guys" tae spoke, holding you up by your arm.

"nono dont apologize please, its late and you guys stayed long enough" yoongi laughed, "yes go take care of y/n, shes gonna feel that tomorrow im sure"

Tae smiled and picked you up gently, managing to get you into the car outside without a fight.

"we are going home now ok?" he whispers as he drives safely down the street. you dont talk, rather mumble in response to everything. Once you are outside your apartment, he holds you up the stairs as he puts his key into the door.

"uehhhh" you whine and pull away, leaning off the railing and suddenly throwing up. "oh!" tae drops his key and runs over, rubbing your back and pushing your hair out of the way until you were done.

"im never drinking again" you slur and fall against him. "i know baby" he consoles, picking his key up and getting you inside to help clean you up and get into bed.

Once he managed to get you into the bathroom, he carefully put you on top of the counter as he changed you into you pajamas. you remained staring with a mean glare, making him laugh.

"what?" he smiled and put one of his old tshirts over your head and onto your body.

"Im mad at you"

"ok...we can talk about it tomorrow ok?" he sighed and washed your face with a cloth before ushering you into bed. he placed Tylenol and water on the bedside table and got close to you, beginning to talk but realizing you were already asleep.

he smiled and cuddled into you, falling asleep eventually.

-

The next morning, Taehyung was awoken by the sounds of you throwing up in the bathroom. He rushed out of bed to be by your side, knowing how much you hated getting sick.

"you ok, baby?" he whispers, watching you lean back against him on the bathroom floor, groaning.

"I shouldnt have drank so much"

he hums and runs his hand through your hair, kissing your head.

its silent for a moment.

"Im sorry for being such a dick yesterday, it was wrong and I should have been more understanding"

you grab his hand with yours, shaking your head. "its ok, I was also being irrational and mean. you are a good boyfriend, tae" you closed your eyes and breathed deeply, feeling lingering nausea.

"I love you" he spoke

"I love you too" you managed to smile.

"no more fighting?"

"no more fighting" you nodded.

he kissed your hand. "if we ever get into another fight just know I have you singing beyonce at the party on video, blackmail for days"

you whipped around, "no...."

"yes...."

"I will cut your dick off if you do that, watch it, kim" you glare, making him laugh. "now get out, before I puke on you"

[tauforged]

i need to quit this fucking birth control i can’t even be assed to reach out to my gyno about it first like i think it’s ruining my life. i’ve been on my period consistently since i started this shit in fucking JUNE to try and treat my pcos and while it’s lessened the painful cramps and migraines it’s making my life miserable in so many other ways. like no matter how hard i try i feel disgusting, im already prone to cystic acne and the fact that i have to wear pads or period underwear 24/7 to keep from staining everything i own is really not helping and it’s so fucking embarrassing of a problem to have and is made 10x worse by the fact that even when i’m doing everything i can to try and keep that shit clean and let it heal it’s just painful and gets worse every day. i feel like i’m rotting like i’m actively convinced that i smell like decay and have just gone noseblind and nobody’s said anything to try and be polite. it’s completely unfounded but it haunts my every waking moment like i’m so paranoid that this is spiraling wildly out of control and that when j do finally go to the doctor it’s gonna be necrotizing fasciitis or gangrene or something and im going to die. whatever im kinda just word vomiting into the internet im sure when i do finally drag my ass into the shower and do my laundry i’ll feel a little more normal and be ashamed of posting all this deep dark fears type shit for everyone to see but im honestly kinda numb rn so who cares

[dxnse-macabre]

i think that if astarion were given the ability to dress himself in the game (instead of the player doing it. dont get me wrong i LOVE being able to dress him) his clothing would change based on how comfortable he feels with the party/what hes trying to do with tav

like, in the beginning when we first meet him, he has this embellished purple light armor-- makes him look like a nobleman, which is what he tries to initially convince us to believe, and even back at camp his clothes are comfy yet still distinguished; he clearly wants us to think highly of him, but not see him as eye candy (not yet, at least)

middle of act one hits. at least, after some big stuff that displays your power: astarion sees how you handle the hag, how well you fight off the goblins to protect the tieflings, killing the spider boss, etc. ... he's like. oh shit. this is someone i need to get close with to be protected. he's wearing tops that are generally more revealing, low cut, not afraid to show some skin during battle (BUT PURPOSEFULLY NOT SHOWING HIS BACK) maybe he's wearing short capes (or just capes in general) no matter how impractical they may be in battle. and,,,, most of all,,,,, this is when his fighting style appears most flexible, more flashy, but not fluid-- kind of like he's never had to woo someone by his fighting style before. its more of saying to tav, look at me. im who you want to pay attention to. not these other freaks in our party.

then the goblin party happens where you kill the goblins. you two spend a night together, you see his scars in full glory. he explains them. then afterwards? he's back to covering himself up---almost like he's ashamed to talk about it, that its just a dirty little secret between the two of you. he goes back to embellishments as well, but it isnt as... vibrant as when you first meet him.

this is just something ive been cooking in my brain so forgive the word vomit but i also love me some fashion theory

[ghost-proofbaby]

ghost!!! i am sobbing weeping crying omg twenty four hours is coming to an end and it is so very bittersweet. i found 24hrs on ao3 and stayed up until three am binging it, then immediately went and followed you on tumblr, and ive been keeping track of it ever since. im not very good a tumblr since i only started using the app for fanfic last october, and i am one of those people that sometimes is ashamed of being a fangirl, so it’s almost unbelievable to me that i have a space where no one will know it’s me and i can enjoy whatever i want. im still trying to adjust to that, tell myself that it’s okay to repost fanfics and that this is a safe space. but twenty four hours has helped me with a LOT of that. before i used to kinda be ashamed to go on tumblr, but now i scroll it daily bcs i didn’t want to miss any updates on the fic. i also made the plunge and officially got an ao3 account, after oh about, seven or eight years of reading fan fiction practically non stop. so im getting there, and i just wanted you to know that twenty four hours helped me to get there.

and i think the main reason that twenty four hours has helped me get there is because of the quality of your writing. you write beautifully, intricately, and most of all—truthfully. ive never read an x reader that has felt so real, so fleshed out and most of all, relatable. i would find myself having internal monologue as i read from the ‘reader’s’ perspective and then the next paragraph would, sometimes word for word, have ‘reader’ think what i was thinking. this fic was also so healing, in a way. the way you used literary devices to describe such complicated situations had me often feeling relieved—like i had just let something go. as someone with a lot of baggage right now and who has a hard time believing they could ever be loved, it was at the very least comforting to have my insecurities and my negative qualities forgiven and proven untrue through ‘reader’ if that makes sense.

ik this is sappy as hell but i genuinely feel this way. your writing has moved me in a way that actual published books haven’t done for me in a while. so i just want to thank you for the time, effort, and thought that went into this fic. and secondly, i want to suggest the idea of adapting this into a novel to be published or a screenplay for a movie, in case no one has mentioned that to you or you haven’t thought of it. i really believe you have something good here, and with your talent, i could see you being very successful. this story of these two people—who both have internal wounds inflicted on themselves, each other, or from the past—who then grow more self aware and choose to be honest, even when it’s hard, is such a rare thing to see in literature or any kind of art. and i think the world needs more of that. bcs, like i said, this fic was more than just a fic to me. it touched me deeply. i cried, i laughed, and i reflected my own self. in short, it was a journey in more ways than one.

so thank you—for your art, for ‘reader’, and for eddie. i can’t wait for the epilogue and to read whatever stories you may have planned for the future.

<3

(ps so sorry to have word vomited in your ask box.)

first and foremost — never apologize for word vomit in my ask box. i am always a-okay with that. 🖤

i don’t even know what to say. i have this terrible habit of putting a lot more of myself than i care to admit into both my readers and my ocs, and most of the time, it’s not the good parts. usually, it’s the absolute worst parts of myself. i take all the rot inside, and i throw it into these projections, and i try to justify how someone with those qualities would still be deserving of love. it’s always been a coping mechanism. always. and then i’ve always strived to be a better writer, make my words worth reading, because i know how much of myself i’ve put into it.

to know other people see themselves in reader or eddie or any character i write is both so strangely hopeful but also so saddening, and it just makes me want to give you the biggest hug 🫂

on the note of publishing, i have definitely considered it. it’s just a really scary journey to decide to take. but the day i do decide to take the plunge, whether with this story or any other i’ve written or any entirely new one, you all will be the first to know 🖤🖤🖤

thank you so so much for reading, for letting my writing touch your soul the way it has. i am so honored that this fic has had this type of affect on you. this message genuinely made me cry. i am sending you all the love. <3

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

*ehem*

im gonna start this off by saying this year will mark 4 years of me with this bitch as not just an f/o, but my main f/o

Keigo Takami, better known by his hero name, Wing Hero: Hawks ! from My Hero Academia. where do I even start with this asshole. being the number 2 pro hero of japan, he is cocky beyond belief in the best most infuriating way. i couldnt even begin to explain how much or for all the reasons I love and adore this stupid birdman, so instead I offer whatever this word vomit is

now I have *checks doc* 4.6k of just basic information about us written out so I'll try to give you the cliff notes version. I was originally going to school to become a search and rescue focused hero, but a villain incident during my 3rd year left me unable to continue with that plan. ending up in a low paying desk job, to get some extra income I signed up for one of the sugar daddy finding websites. and what do you know it just so happened to be keigo that was interested in being my sugar daddy. *insert devloping relationship, angst, and a time skip* wham bam a loving committed relationship is born. neither of us are the best at taking care of ourselves, but gods know we take care of each other

now enjoy some stupid random things pulled straight from my google doc;

He coos back at pigeons and will talk about "the pigeon tea". He talks about it so seriously that no ones knows if he actually can talk to the pidgeons or not

*puts on a sheet with slits for his wings for halloween* im a poultry-geist

late night slap happy holding his face v seriously asks “keigo can you talk to pigeons” “....coo” “tHATS NOT AN ANSWER???” v serious whisper “i am the pigeon whisperer”

obligatory picrew

and a few more photos bc hes pretty and I want to show him off

I don't have a ship playlist but I do have one for keigo that has a lot of love songs thrown in bc I'm a lovesick bitch so

I don't have a ship playlist for us but I do have one for keigo that has sappy songs in it bc I'm a lovesick bastard and of course that bled into his character playlist are you kidding me. so have that

■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■

◇─◇──◇── @mimic-of-hysy  x Hawks! ──◇──◇─◇

■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■

□ I wanna start with just how badly I think Hawks needed you in his life. Someone who can know him and love his every eccentricity, give him a reason care for himself by caring for you.

□ Something tells me he was never ashamed of having fallen in love with a non-famous hero. That he was so fully supportive of you in everyway and only annoyed by busybodies who asked when he'd grow out of this phase with you. His reaction, his publicist reminds him, could have messed with his ranking. He couldn't care less.

□ I think the public grows to love you too, for the record.

□ Why do I see him trying so hard to bake cookies for you as a surprise??

□ He has 100% "taught" you some bird speak. Jury is out on whether it was just to give himself a giggle or not. The mystery of does he REALLY speak PIGEON??? continues.

□ You love to tease him about the one time he walked into your balcony door, because holy shit, he turned himself into the silliest fucking stereotype. You occasionally bid him goodbye with a kiss and an affectionate, "don't fly into any windows today, birdbrain."

■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■━■

did I assume wrong?? yall are publicly together now,, right?

I'd love to hear more about the early days. The sneaking around and how quickly you both felt the connection hehe

ALSO ARE THE WINGS SOFT I NEED TO KNOW HOW SOFT THE WINGS ARE IM SORRY.

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Come make my day, tell me about your self ship, and get some hcs of your own.

[nonbinary-ohio]

i want you to rant about a food you love or a food you despise

i have never been so ashamed of my colonialist neighbours other than when it comes to mushy fucking peas. i cannot fucking stand mushy peas. the thought of them makes me want to vomit. i have gone to therapy to re-associate the colour green with my backyard's mountain range instead of that. mushy peas are undeniable proof that there is a god, somewhere, and they have a sick sense of humour. calling it inedible is an insult to other inedible food that still has something interesting about it that intrigues people enough to try it, but unfortunately im not all that smart and i cant think of a worse word for it. it smells like hot dog water. it tastes like a saliva-soaked wad of grass and cud if you ate it directly from a cow's mouth. i would rather kiss charles's pinky finger and pretend its a sausage log than be in the same room as a bowl of mushy peas. no wonder i fucking hate my mom. she loves mushy peas.

[ultrasadghostgirl-blog]

me again

just having another one of those nights where i feel the need to vomit out my words but i don’t want anyone i know to see

i’ve noticed that over the last several months i’ve gotten so... unsure. About everything. I can almost feel myself turning into a person that I don’t like and it’s scary

i’m clinging to the person i want to be as tightly as i can, i’m trying not to let this job and these people and this situation change me, but it’s hard...

i grew up around bigoted, insecure, cruel, passive aggressive people and it did a number on me. and it makes me angry because i’m always trying to be conciliatory, i’m always trying to make nice, and people like that absolutely see that as license to walk all over me

and it turns me into a crueler person too, because i have all this anger that gets pent up and doesn’t have anywhere else to go, so it escapes in moments like road rage or accidentally snapping at someone

and just as bad is that i feel myself becoming apathetic. i feel myself not caring about things going on around me, because walling myself off, severly restricting the things i actually do care about, is one of the only ways i can preserve my sanity. i feel scraped and raw, and that i need to build a shell to protect myself

the way i am now, i’m almost allergic to vulnerability. i truly can’t picture myself being able to be vulnerable -- truly vulnerable -- with anyone besides my therapist

i’m carrying so much shame on my back. shame because of what i do, and shame for who i am.

im surrounded by people every day who are so drastically different than i am, and it makes me feel so horrible. it’s literally just like what happened to me in 2017. slightly better, because i’m older and more sure of myself, but i can feel that self-confidence eroding every day

i forget that there are other people out there that are like me, that think the same way i do and have the same values, that i’m not just some sort of freak tossed into a sea of normal people

i told myself that if i got transferred to the day shift, i would at last try to make some local friends, but.....

i feel like i’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. i can’t start the relationship with a potential friend off with a lie, but i also can’t tell the truth because i’m so deeply ashamed of it. the shame would roil off me and taint everything

sure it’s possible i could meet people who would give me a chance despite the fact that i’m doing something morally abhorrent, but i don’t think my luck is that good

[a-wild-things-rambles]

umm word vomit and crazed analysis of johnny cash’s american recordings and what the songs mean to me. cw: my major issues with my father and in the last paragraph mentions of alcoholism and a mention of not eating/being able to eat, also no spellcheck

im currently listening to my folk/country playlist, and i forgot how much i love singing along w johnny cash, its instant gender euphoria because i can sing so low, and i always forget how much i love singing, like not just mumbling along, but fully standing properly and breathing properly and belting out the songs, it reminds me that im skilled at things, and i love my singing voice, and how it says so much about the music i love,

ive been listening to his cover of wayfaring stranger on loop, it reminds me of traveling with my father to see my nana after my grandfathers death. it also makes me think of journys, of returning home, its a common folk song to cover, and i love every one, but the best version to me is the firepitcolective, authough johnys is my favrout to sing along to.

johnny cash is an important artis to me, cash- american recordings, is one of my most integral albums, to who i am today, i listeded to woddie guthrie when i was even younger, but i could remeber cash, even now.

the beast in me is my fathers song, and now mine. i loved it, and sung along, but as i grew it gaind a reverence, i dared not sing it aloud, dare not seek it out, for it was a reminder of an open wound, and the dark refection in the mirror i wanted to avoid become at all costs.

drive on,,, is the first song i can remeber learning when i sat down with my guitar, with my fathers 'the little black book of johnny cash' that i stole from him, the courus i can play with my eyes closed, but i leave them open when i scream out the lyrics. its the first one i play when i open it, it speaks of loss and things not matering, people not understanding, to just shrug things off and 'drive on'

oh bury me not (introduction: a cowboys prayer) this taught me god. i will always say that i think my issues with the church stemed from this being my main expernce with god and belief. this is what it should be. its a prayer i direct to no god, but to the forces that exist. its,, pure. hopeful, abashed not ashamed. this is the good god. the god hidden far from churches. the holy in each of us. oh buery me not.. it haunts me i am the boy i am the digger i am the lone prarie.

bird on a wire,, 'i have tried in my way to be free' 'i have torn everyone who reaches out for me' i dont know if i can put how i feel into words. im crying now, its asking for forgivenss, its trying to eb free, its lashing out but trying not to. i cannot sing this withough a tremble. 'ill make it all up to thee' is,,, fuck its so mutch

let the train blow the whistle is the song i want playing at my funeral. its bittersweet, nostalgia, coming to terms, its the calm of acseptance

like a soilder,,, recover, looking back, the third bit "thee are nights" too "spoils of victory is you" its a prayer, and a memory, a the truth od me

an interlude here, cash iften talks of a 'you' this could be god or a lover. i always imagended it as my best friend. someone who loves me. they are all that matters now, not the faces i wish to forget. but my best friedn is now another face i wish to forget. i cannot continue this thought. im sorry

redemtion is similar to a cowboys prayer. it has much god and i like it despite. its fire and brimstone. i whould love to sing it in a churh. but it holds nothing i can lable. just nebulus meanings, i feel i may have stripped it of meaning. i may have

thirteen. i have known id have to talk about this, but my bracing isent enough. it is insepertable from me sitting on the floor i slept on in my fathers house, listing to it on loop and weaping, an empty stomach clouding my thoughts, as my father drank himself away downstairs. it holds the tragedy of my youth. thirteen is probrably the song thet means the most. no thats not quite the right word. it holds the most meaning, associations and history. its painfull. if i listed issues i associated with it i whold never stop "never had me a name, they just gave me the number when i was young" alenation. and later transsnes. my disconect "born to bring toruble to wherever im at" i am a curse upon my family, upon my friends. the first tatoo i wanted was a number 13 tatooed on my neck. i still think of getting it. "long line of heartache i carry it well" i was always told i managed well "list of lives ive broken reach from here to hell" "i pray you dont look at me i pray i dont look back" i dont know what to write anymore. thank you for reading. im sorry.

[lucynnamonroll]

Luto lore: extra 1

Word count: 1k

n/a: tbh i just had a terrible brain rot about Mucho and I in a school setting during Valentine's day. This is pure crack/fluff and is not canon in the Luto lore, is just a sort of AU. And ofc it's not proof read word vomit, good luck if you are reading this

'Did you plan to give chocolate to someone this year?'

His question was sudden and even more surprising coming from someone like him, who didn't seem to care a lot about that kind of event. Or at least that's what I thought. 

He is a lonely man, who scares half, if not the whole school. A lot of rumors are going around about him, depicting him as a bloody man... But that's not what I see when I look at him. For me, he is just a lonely man, a kind one with a good soul. 

'Yes I will, I did the groceries yesterday to do them.'

I won't lie, I was also pretty much scared of him at first because he is tall and muscular. But it didn't take me long to realize he was closer to a teddy bear than a bloody monster. So we started to eat together during lunch. And day after day we grew closer and closer, until one day I had to face the terrible evidence that I did have more than platonic feelings toward him. 

'Didn't you tell me that you were a terrible cook?'

I almost choked on my food as I heard his words.

'Well... I am, so we will see how it turns. If tomorrow I'm not here and that you hear about a house reduced to ashes, that's probably because it turned horribly wrong.' 

I could see a smile making its way on his face. I love those moments that we share together. He is not a big talker, but a very good listener. He remembers everything I tell him, from how I am stuck in this game to the latest rumor going around the school. No one makes me feel as listened to and important as he does. 

'So can I know who you will try to poison then?' 

Faking how offended I was by his words, I brought my hand to my chest in a theatrical way. 

'No, I can't tell you, dear, otherwise you will be an accomplice in this murder case' 

If only he knew I would give them to him... But I can't say a word about it, what would even be the purpose in that? I just hope that they will be edible and that he won't be sick. And that's if he accepts them. What if he doesn't? Maybe he only sees me as a friend after all. Maybe I will be screwing up everything tomorrow? But at the same time, I do want to give them to him... 

That's with an uncomfortable feeling of doubt that I continued this day until I could go home and face the fact that I would spend the evening cooking for a man that probably doesn't even return my feelings. 

The next morning, I thought I would die from anxiety. Well, maybe not die, but my stomach does be sending me red signals, telling me that at any slight inconvenience, my breakfast would get out from where it came from. My mom helped me to make the chocolate by giving me numerous pieces of advice and to be honest, they turned out pretty good. The problem was now to find the man I was supposed to give them to and also the courage needed to do so. 

The only time of the day when I see Mucho is noon, so it will be my only chance. 

I swear that my legs never have been shakier than during those steps I did to join him where we would usually eat during the warm days. It was hidden behind the school, probably the calmest place here too, so we both enjoyed it a lot. 

As expected he was already here, peacefully eating his lunch box. He greeted me with a nod as I sat down next to him.

'Nervous? I'm used to seeing you with dark circles, but those are by far the worst you ever had.'

I love how he always has the right word to reassure me... For sure 'anxious' was probably written all over my face. 

'Barely.'

Hearing the irony in my voice he moved his eyes from his lunch box to me. 

'See the bright side of things, your house didn't burn last night.'

It took me a few seconds to understand that he was referring to what I said yesterday, which made me smile a bit. 

In the end, this lunch was like every other we had. But I couldn't bring myself to give him my chocolate and now he was getting up to leave... 

'W-wait a minute, I have something for you!'

For once, I was talking faster than I was thinking, but maybe it was for the better? 

'I actually made the chocolates for you...'

I couldn't bring myself to look at him as he took the small package from my hands. 

'Oh... That puts me in a delicate situation...' 

I knew it. I knew that he only liked me as a friend. Oh god, I hate myself so much for catching feelings and hoping it would work out. 

'That means I will have to make you chocolates for white day...'

What?

'W-well that's only if you return my feelings-'

'I do.'

Did I hear that right? 

I looked at him, not registering what was happening anymore, as he opened the small package and took one of the chocolate to taste it.

'For someone who kept telling me that they can't cook, they are delicious... Thank you.'

With those words, he kissed my forehead before leaving for his next class, leaving me alone, while my brain tried desperately to process all that just happened.

[sukisdeliveryservice]

something in the rain

1.314k / soobin x reader / fluff / no warnings! / first soobin fic requested by none other than my wifey, @januarystars :3 ily mei <3

#17 - billet-doux - a love letter, #40 - cupping someone’s face

a special list of prompts

it’s a rainy day when you plan to confess to soobin.

you clasp your palms together tightly and face forward to where the droplets begin to enlarge and form glossy sheets over the pavement. you’ve just been caught in between the rush hour of the last school bell and the swarms of students racing past you to the first bus.

a letter, peach coloured and daintily signed is innocently held between your fingers.

you forgot to bring an umbrella today, instead opting for minimal shelter underneath the old willow tree that arched over the pathway to the park. your mom had warned you several times in the morning about the weather but your eagerness had washed away any sense of mind prior to the final bell of the day.

he should be here at any moment now.

soobin always walked to the park after school with his group of friends. you, an observant soul would often picnic nearby with the company of your study notes and occasionally your own small circle of friends. it was almost like a secret meeting place, where you and soobin could go on separate adventures, somehow still together for the remainder of the afternoon.

you can’t count the number of times a skateboard or a basketball would roll over to where you were sitting. and the number of times soobin had to run over and apologize with an embarrassed smile and his friends laughing in the background. every interaction which left your cheeks feeling warm and your heart pulsing in endearment.

it’s the last day of school before spring break. you were adamant on giving this confession before soobin went off and forgot about you during the holidays. it felt silly and rushed a week ago, but as you were perfecting the penmanship of the way your name was signed and adding the final touches of a few stickers you thought might amuse him, the panging against your ribcage created an alarming reality of what you were about to do.

it begins to dawn on you that there was a possibility of soobin not even coming. he could have gone home early because he was leaving for vacation. he might have invited over his friends for a sleepover to kickstart the break, or whatever it is that boys do to celebrate.

it’s a dumb move that has you kicking at the dirt beneath your feet.

the rain starts bucketing down as you hesitantly step out of your shelter while clutching the letter to your chest in protection. you figured that you could catch the last bus before it got dark, but your heart sinks at the thought of arriving home late and unsuccessful. the heavy droplets that soak into your shirt leaves you feeling sour and cold.

a couple of rowdy first-year students race by just as you’re beginning to make your way towards the stop and something gets caught in the zipper of your school bag. before you know it, you’re on the pavement and the water completely seeps through your uniform.

smudged ink and flecks of dirt smeared over the stickers you had used to seal the envelope has you holding back tears. it was an accident, you know that. but it kills your confidence and you can’t stop the sniffles that escape as you use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes.

“hey, are you alright?”

you know that voice. it takes you every ounce of spared dignity to look up at the sweet boy leaning over with an umbrella in his hand. soobin kneels down to your height and offers one of his many kind smiles. suddenly, you aren’t sure if the rapid beating of your heart is from the shock of the cold anymore.

in the distance you can see his friends, one of them who you recognized as the captain of the school’s dance team: choi yeonjun. he appeared to be berating the group of boys that had caused your fall, and you give a slight nod when they hastily bow their heads in your direction as an apology.

a slight pull in your arm wakes you from your daze and you realize that soobin was trying to help you stand up. the gentle grip on the side of your arm leaves your cheeks flushed and your knees weak, you were growing painfully aware of how silly you must have looked.

“you’re shivering”

before you’re able to say anything, something heavy and warm is draped over your shoulders. soobin’s jacket brings you an embarrassing amount of comfort that you would never admit, and you find yourself wrapping it tighter around your torso in order to let it swallow you whole.

“thank you,” you mumble, suddenly nervous at the thought of sharing an umbrella with soobin. in different circumstances you might have giggled at the way he was still bending his knees in order to properly use the umbrella to shield you away from the rain. soobin was similar to you in terms of shyness, but his bolder acts of kindness leave you feeling almost too light-headed for your own good.

“what do you have there?”

panic surges through you lighting-fast when soobin points out the letter in your hand, small and now crumpled. there was no way you could give it to him now, and you opt for half-hearted deflection.

“nothing”

“nothing? why is my name written on there?”

you slap your hand over where soobin’s name is written with a heart doodled next to it. his laugh rings through your ears and it sounds more pleasing than your favourite song. the mood is instantly brightened and you find yourself smiling shyly despite your embarrassment.

behind soobin, you recognize huening kai, your classmate from chemistry and one of soobin’s friends. he gives you a reassuring nod and a thumbs up before tapping yeonjun on the shoulder while whispering something you can’t make out. soobin’s friends all flash you knowing grins before leaving you alone at last, heart-fluttery and spirit-lifted.

“um actually it was for you...but i don’t think you’ll be able to read it now.”

“why don’t you read it to me?”

your courage may have returned but your shyness still precedes you. the stunned silence that keeps you frozen in place as you stare up wide-eyed at soobin makes him laugh again, and at this point you swear that he’s teasing you on purpose.

“you don’t have to! sorry, sorry i shouldn't have ah— it’s just that you look really cute when you’re flustered.”

he didn’t look sorry, and you find the audacity to gently smack soobin with your letter, still keeping your gaze on your shoes to hide your flushed features.

at this point, there was no way that soobin was oblivious to your crush, but when you catch the way his hand rubs the back of his neck and the pink that tinges the tips of his ears, you feel an odd surge of determination ripple through you.

to your surprise, a warm hand is placed on your cheek, and you can only stare dumbfoundedly as soobin gently dabs away at the remainder of your tears with his sleeve; his expression instantly changing from playful to concerned.

“you must be freezing. do you wanna stop by my house? i have a few extra sweaters that can get you warmed up before going home.”

soobin’s sweaters. wearing soobin’s sweater oh my god-

“it’s nearby! and you don’t have to worry about going home when it’s dark because i’ll take the bus with you on the way back okay? huening kai told me you lived far so i just thought that-”

“okay”

your voice is quiet as you remain bashful, but soobin melts into a dimpled smile that tells you he heard it loud and clear. “okay?”

“okay, and i’d also like to read you that letter on the way back.”

[catcze]

ayato and voice kink go brrr I HAVENT EVEN HEARD HIM TALJ HSHDHSJJS

'y/n?'

you blinked, stating up at itto with wide eyes as tho you snapped out of a daydream. 'hm?'

'i said I wanted to know if o have your consent,' ayato continued slowly, missing a little smirk on his face while sitting down next to you.

you paused to think, only to have the words echo in your head. Too much was going on. Ayato asking for consent and being sweet, his voice slipping down like honey, trying to squeeze your legs together without him noticing~

you blinked again, faced with a concerned ayato. 'do you wanna stop here?' he inquired, 'you seem too spaced out, y/n?'

'Nono, it's your voice,' you said quickly, holding onto his arm. his smirk grew a bit and he tilted his head, eyeing you curiously. 'god I love how you talk, your voice is so smooth and I've been zoned out cuz I'm thinking of you...-' you gasped as the word vomit ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, and put a hand over your mouth after realising what you said.

ayato, meanwhile, leaned back and smiled. 'im flattered, y/n, he said, voice dropping an octave (something you swore was done on purpose to make you whimper a little). He tilted your chin to face him, and made direct eye contact, something that made the blush on your face worse.

'what is it exactly about my voice, hmm, sweetheart?' the urge to moan there on the spot and beg for him to fuck you (same) just grew from that, but you tried to keep yourself composed.

'ah- um- ayato uhh-' you stuttered out some mumbled garbage and averted your gaze down, a bit ashamed at not being to form a scentance. He squeezed your hand, and whispered, 'take your time, you're ok,' comfortingly, and you would have melted on the spot if it weren't for his supportive arm on your back.

I'll write the actual horni some other time, now I can't bring myself to lol🎱 <3

NSFW !! 18+ Only !!

// I mean technically suggestive but like this is superrr suggestive HAHHA // also no fancy colors yet for the text bc mobile go brrr HAHHA

‘beg for him to fuck you (same)’ BABE PLS HAHLAKAKA

No bUt FR THO 😩 MM AYATO VOICE KINK GO BRRRR 💞💞😩

Babe you’re really going ham on the Ayato thoughts HHAHAH 👀👀💦💦 kalskakak

Naw but fr babe you gotta listen to his voice fr it’s so gOOD

[obiwhat]

WHAT IS UP BESTIE I RETURN

Levi desperately chasing the drunk and numb feeling and actually goes straight to alcohol poisoning and never even got to taste the feeling of being drunk 😭 cuz Ackermans are just built ✨ different ✨

RAE IM FINALLY ANSWERING THIS IM SO SORRY LMAOOO life has been kicking mine ass

but i hope u enjoy what i whipped up for ya~~ i ADORE uuuuuu <333

Sentiment:

(warnings: spoilers for S.3, drinking obv, vomiting)

“Levi.” Hanji tried again, with little to no reaction. Levi’s head slumped over his palm. He looked drained from the movement, as his eyes trailed to the chilled window, not towards Hanji.

“How many have you had now?”

“I’m not drunk, Hanji. It doesn’t work. Never has…” His words trailed off, but he was not slurring, despite the collection of bottles lined up neatly by his boots. “Never worked on Kenny either. Though that didn’t slow him down.”

He took a larger bottle, one that was a dark burgundy in color and took a long pull of it. It was some sort of last ditch effort from Hanji’s perspective. They watched the alcohol miss his lips and trailed down the side of his neck, he didn’t seem to care. He wiped it with the back of his hand sluggishly.

The shutters of his window, only allowing a sliver of moonlight, rattling in the windy air.

“Levi.” Hanji began, but didn’t know what they could possibly say. “You know you can talk t—”

“What is there to talk about, Hanji? Fucking hell, everyone just wants to talk, talk, talk. You’re all the same,” he spit spitefully, “All those words mean nothing in the end.”

This wasn’t about them, Hanji knew that. Now, Levi was speaking almost exclusively about…

Erwin.

“I just want to know if you’re alright.”

“Well, then take a look.” Levi swung his arms out wide, giving them a good long look at his state. His shirt was unbuttoned and untucked, his eyes bloodshot and tired… God he looks exhausted.

Nearly a week had passed since that day and they were sure he hadn’t slept a wink. He was burning himself out on both ends.

“You need rest, Levi. Put down the bottle and let me help you to your room.”

“Help me? The fuck are you going to do to help me, Hanji? Huh?” He swung the bottle to his lips again, swallowed then waited for something, anything, to come of it. When nothing happened, he slammed it back on the wooden desk with a bang that made Hanji flinch. “You know? With all your brains, you really are fucking idiot sometimes.”

Hanji tried not to let it build up. They tried to hold back, to not let their exhaustion and repressed anger bubble. But it was futile.

“I’m an idiot? Oh, that’s fresh.”

“The fuck d’you mean by that?”

“Well which one of us chose to bring back a kid instead of our commander?”

Levi swallowed. He went pale, as if hearing the words aloud were just too much. It made this too real.

Hanji instantly regretted it. They wished they kept their big mouth shut. This was most certainly not the time to bring up Levi’s decision.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Levi.”

Hanji was tired too. They were under so much pressure to be a commander and… if they were honest, they had considered blaming that on Levi. It should be Erwin leading, not them.

But lashing out like that? At Levi, of all people? It wasn’t like them. Guilt filled their stomach like stones.

“No… No, you’re right,” his voice was frail, hollow. His head hung low.

“I’m not right. I don’t know why I said that. I’m tired Levi. We all are, okay? Let’s just go to bed.”

“I was being an asshole. I deserved it.” But the way he said it made Hanji’s skin chill. His eyes were vacant and cold yet guilt ridden, overwhelmed with guilt.

“Don’t…” Levi stood, leaning against the desk and picking up his bottles below him. “Don’t beat yourself up. You have every reason to resent me.”

“I don’t resent you, Levi. Being commander, the pressure of it… I'm just exhausted. I need you to be okay. You’re all I have left.” They looked at the floor, too ashamed to look towards Levi anymore. “I don’t resent you. Don’t say that.”

They heard a bottle tip on the desk, drawing their attention up again. The largest of the collective went rolling off the wooden surface and slammed with a sharp crack against the floor. Hanji jumped at the piercing sound.

Levi had his palms to the table, his face was pale as sweat dotted his forehead. He didn’t seem to notice the remaining alcohol coating his desk and reaching his sleeves. He blinked once, twice, then shook his head and squeezed his eyelids shut.

“What’s wrong?” Hanji finally asked, hesitantly approaching his desk. As they drew closer they could see the trembles coursing through their friend’s skin. “Levi. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” His words came through clenched teeth.

Hanji dared to reach towards him, they put a hand on Levi’s shivering shoulder and helped steady him.

“I feel…” He suddenly heaved in breaths, looking paler by the moment. Hanji’s heart started racing, their hand clenched tighter on his suit jacket. “Hanji I don’t… Hanji… I feel sick.”

“Sick?” Without missing a beat, they slapped a palm beneath his sweat ridden bangs. “You don’t feel warm. Actually, you feel really cold—”

“M-Move.” He shoved passed them, tripping over his legs as he reached out for the bin beside his desk. Huddled on the floor with it tightly pressed to his chest, Levi heaved.

“Oh.” Hanji peered down at him. “That kind of sick.”

Nothing came from Levi’s dry heaving. There were tears forming in the corner of his eyes when Hanji lowered themself to the ground. They put a soft hand on his back and started making slow circles.

“Fuck… I can’t… I hate… I hate t-this…”

“I know you do, clean freak. But you won’t feel better until you get it out.”

“S-Shut up. I’m not going to… I w-won’t…”

Just before he could finish his thought, Levi was sick several times in the bin clutched in his white knuckled grip. He swayed when he’d finished, relying on Hanji to keep him upright.

“Hey. Stay awake, Levi. You’re still looking pretty green.”

“Room’s… S-Spinnin’…” He blinked lazily, his eyes were glazed over and unfocused. “Wha… What’s…?”

“Levi?”

He lurched over the bin but not to vomit, he was falling. Hanji caught his shoulder and managed to scoop the bin off of his lap with their other hand before it could slip as well. In the process, Levi ended up sprawled on the floor with his face pressed to hardwood.

His breaths were raspy and shallow, like he could hardly breathe. Hanji was quick, they put down the bin and got to his side in a heartbeat, rattling Levi to try to wake him again.

“Come on, Shorty. You can’t sleep on the floor, okay?”

Was he drunk? Why hadn’t it hit him before?

Levi didn’t respond, aside from his harrowing breaths. Each one was getting farther apart from the last. His eyes were half lidded, but nearly rolled back in his skull.

He doesn’t get drunk. He said he never has. So what the hell is this?

“Levi. Levi, come on. Wake up, Levi!”

Hanji paused, their breath tightly held within their chest. They thought quickly, if Levi had never been able to get drunk before, maybe his body didn’t know its limit before reaching the level of alcohol poisoning. It was an insane theory but Levi was an insane specimen, and if he was on the verge of alcohol poisoning, there was only one option left. They would have to get rid of the alcohol.

All of it.

Without hesitating, Hanji put their fingers to Levi’s mouth, but before they could even go past his lips, Levi’s eyes went wide with revulsion and he pushed Hanji away, getting sick all over again, this time on the floor. Tears burned their way out of his eyes as he was sick over and over until he reverted back to dry heaves and short gasps.

“Fucking d’gusting… hands are… Dirty…”

Hanji couldn’t help but smirk awkwardly at that. It was relieving to hear that he was reacting as normal as possible even if that meant getting violently ill at the mere thought of their hands.

“How are ya feeling? Less on the verge of a coma?”

He whimpered quietly in between his wracking shivers. Levi seemed eager to look anywhere but in front of him where he’d been sick. His face was paler than they’d ever seen it.

“Alright, good to hear it. Let’s get you somewhere cleaner, alright?”

Hanji had to practically peel Levi to his feet. It was worthless to try to have him walk with legs like noodles below him. Painstakingly, they made it to the couch by his desk without Hanji dropping him.

They sighed, brushing the hair from Levi’s eyes. His face was a permanent grimace now, disgust clearly etched in his features.

“It’s okay. I’ll clean it. I’ll clean you up too, okay? Just stay put.”

It didn’t take long to find cleaning supplies in Levi’s storage closet, aside from miscellaneous weapons and stacks of organized, color coded files. They first thing they did was wet a rag and clean up Levi’s face. The cool water against his skin made him shiver more intensely and complain softly to Hanji between his clenched and clattering teeth.

“You’re trembling like a leaf, pal. Maybe… A blanket?” Levi responded to them with a shaky bob of his head, up and down. They looked around as Levi’s shivers only peaked in intensity. No blankets in the closet, none on the couch with him, of course the man wouldn’t allow himself such comforts. They tried not to roll their eyes.

Without any other choice, Hanji took his scouting cloak from where it hung on the coat rack. As they carried it over, Hanji stretched it to its full length.

This wasn’t Levi’s cloak.

No, it was much too large for him. It was tattered in places, sewn up with care in others. This was Erwin’s, without a doubt.

As soon as Hanji placed it over Levi’s shoulders, he clawed for its warmth and comfort like that of a starving animal pouncing on its prey. Devouring that warmth, Levi curled up on his side looking away from Hanji as they began cleaning the floor.

This man hadn’t given himself the comfort of a blanket for his office in the cold of winter, yet, he had taken a piece of his commander, a comfort beyond other comforts. And even so, it was a reminder of so much heart wrenching lost, it seemed tortuous for Levi to keep. It was a physical indication of a space to be filled, that never would be again. Never.

Once the floor was finally clean, Hanji made their way back over, kneeling beside Levi on the couch. His trembles were slowing in rhythm and his breathing seemed close enough to normal again. His condition was improving with the alcohol gone from his system. But he still won’t turn back to them.

“You kept it.”

There wasn’t much else Hanji could think to say. And Levi of course stayed quiet for a moment.

“‘Course…” Levi muttered finally. “Of c-course I did.”

“Your sentiment always manages to surprise me, Levi.”

They put a hand on his shoulder, rubbed it for what they would excuse for generating extra body heat. Really they just wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. Not really.

“Shut up, Four-Eyes.”

But he didn’t shoo their hand away as it continued to make comforting slow passes over his shoulder.

[fanfic-me-up]

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

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

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

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

Word Count: 6k+

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

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

Denki swallows. 

“Check.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yeah...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!” 

“That’s for emergencies only!”

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

Silence.

“No?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that my face!?” 

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

“Uhhh…”

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

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

“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 

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

“Oops?”

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

“Denki Kaminari.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You may wanna sit down for this.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love getting off to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How bad do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You love getting off to me?”

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

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

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

“Show me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

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

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

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

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 

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

“Fuck, I’m close.”

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

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

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

“Touch me.” 

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

“Chill, Denki.”

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

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 

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

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

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

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

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

“Everything and more.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Denki?” 

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Denki?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

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

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

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you think you’re going?”

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

“You close?” 

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

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

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

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

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

“About time, bro, congrats!” 

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

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

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes. 

You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 

“Did you mean it?” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

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

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

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

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

“I meant it,” you say.

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

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

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!” 

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

“Sorry!”

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

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

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

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

“... round two?” 

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

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

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

“To add to your collection 😉”