#Shut up Oblivion nobody cares

[nadvs]

heyyy i have a request i think about whenever i go to your profile. about an angst or fluff fic or blurb about your bio(?) “i don’t think your friends will like me” with rafe and (hopefully)kook!reader. (i hope this sparks interest if not its fine <3)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your friends were less than thrilled when you told them that you were talking to Rafe, but they held their tongues. Once you started dating him, though, they refused to keep quiet any longer.

He has a bad reputation. He’s known as a psychotic douchebag who gets into a fight at almost every party. And they reminded you of that every time you mentioned him.

You finally snapped one day, telling them that you appreciate the concern, but you’re with Rafe for a reason. They weren’t exactly supportive, but they shut up.

He isn’t all he presents to the outside world. Behind the inflated machismo, Rafe is fun. He’s sweet. He makes you feel like flowers are blooming in your chest every time he looks at you. And nobody can convince you that he’s simply no good.

The country club is loud and bustling, every partygoer dressed in the best, most expensive thing in their closet.

After a month of dating, this is your first time coming to a club party with Rafe as his girlfriend. His hand is at the small of your back as you enter the ornate banquet hall.

You look up at him, smiling at the adorable way he scans the room, the chandelier lights twinkling in the blue of his eyes.

Rafe is out of his element. He usually comes to these things with his buddies, drinks a little too much, and doesn’t give a shit what people think.

But he’s here with you. And the pressure is heavy on his shoulders.

“My friends are over there,” you say, pointing to a table on the far side of the room. You spot a few free seats.

“I don’t think they’ll like me,” he replies, voice low, lips curled up in a nervous smile.

You pivot to face him, hands smoothing over the fabric of his suit jacket.

“Well, I like you,” you say matter-of-factly. Rafe looks down at you with a knitted brows.

“Yeah, for now.” His words leave his mouth before he can even think about them. Rafe glances away, his lips in a nervous, hard line.

“What’s that mean?” you ask softly.

He only shakes his head, an awkward smile on his face.

“Nothin’,” he drawls.

You won’t take that as an answer. Your hand finds his. Rafe loves the feeling of your palm pressed around him as you lead him out of the room you just entered.

Your heels click against the floor as you round the corner into an empty hallway, turning to face him again.

“What’s that mean, Rafe?” you ask again, your eyes deep with concern.

Rafe’s heart is pounding in his ears. He didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight.

It’s been eating away at him. He’s not an idiot. He knows his reputation. And he didn’t care about it until he met you.

“You…” Rafe sighs, looking down at the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t even know where to start.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“I know you know what people say about me,” he finally says.

You don’t play dumb. There’s no point.

“And you think I agree?” you say. Rafe steps back, scratching the back of his neck with another sharp exhale.

“You might,” he replies, tone low. You look at him with doubt etched into every one of your features.

“Rafe,” you say with a breathy, disbelieving laugh. “I don’t care what people say. They’re wrong about you.”

He’s not so sure. He can’t control himself at times, anger and aggression pooling out of him. People see that ugly side of him. He can’t deny that that side exists.

“Are they?” he asks. His voice is thin and vulnerable. You haven’t ever seen him like this. “I’m not always like… the way you see me.”

Rafe feels like he’s teetering at the edge of a cliff now, seconds away from falling, from losing you.

“You know that we went to all the same parties before we got together, right?” you chuckle. Rafe meets your eyes again.

You saw him drink himself into oblivion and get into fights and leave parties with a bloodied face and swollen knuckles. Countless times.

“I saw everything and I still want you,” you say. “I don’t give a fuck if people don’t like you.”

Rafe’s chest burns. He almost dropped off the cliffside, but you just pulled him back.

He swallows the lump in his throat and pulls you in, cupping your cheeks to softly kiss you.

He didn’t care what anyone thought about him before. Now, he only cares about what one person thinks. And he’s kissing her and she wants him and that’s all that fucking matters.

[ironunderstands]

Would be waiting for acheron brainrot ramble here

Is it time for Acheron brainrot ramble? It’s time for Acheron brainrot ramble. Prepare for the most stream of consciousness post ever, I had so much fun writing this she has taken over my consciousness and puppeted me for my own ends, and commanded me to demonstrate how peak she really is. So enjoy, hopefully I can get others to love Acheron just as much as I do.

I think there are three reasons why I like Acheron 1) she’s really fucking cool 2) I love characters who guide/mentor others 3) She’s charming as hell.

Hoyo you aren’t allowed to make characters this good.

The music in her trailer, her aesthetic, the amount of fire fucking one liners. THE COLOR RED (I’ll get into it)

“Find me, your end, my origin.” Who cooked here who wrote this who’s the chef please where’s the restaurant I’m eating this up

“On the still waters of oblivion, I guide the wandering souls” GRAHAJDJWJKSSW YES YOU DO OH MY GOD I CANT PUT INTO WORDS HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS LINE SHUT UP EVERYONE SHUT UP. Like she literally is at the edge of existence fighting to help others find their future, I just. RAAAA

SHE CUTS A BLACK HOLE IN HALF?? HUHH AUGHH a black hole that’s the manifestation of meaninglessness in the universe, and she goes “nah” and fucking obliterates it?!!?

“I weep for the departed” Those who have died are gone, and slowly losing themselves even further. For decades, centuries, millennia, even, Acheron has witnessed this, and still cries for them, still guides them to the other side, even if the task itself is meaningless, because someone should do it, someone has to do it, and that someone is HER.

She saves Aventurine, she saves the Trailblazer, she saves the entirity of Penacony. Someone blessed by the manifestation of nonexistent dedicates her life to giving others a reason to live.

Aventurine asks her why people should bother living, if the dice are always weighted in a certain outcome, then why should we keep going? Aventurine asks her why people should bother living if the universe is meaningless?

He fully expects her to say people shouldn’t.

But Acheron doesn’t do that. The dice are weighted against us. Not just in game, but in reality itself. We will all die, you will die, the people you care about will die, I might die, it remains to be seen. However, before that inevitable ending, before the curtain finally closes, we have so many choices to make. If the ending is the same for everyone, it doesn’t matter, and Acheron tells Aventurine this.

Because the Nihility envelops everyone equally, the universe is equally meaningless for everyone, nobody is the special someone destined to have a destiny. Therefore, it doesn’t matter. Aventurine has no reason to live. And Aventurine has no reason not to live. She tells him his time hasn’t come, because it hasn’t. Until that dice roll, until his final breath, Aventurine can still make choices and he can still choose to live for himself, and that’s the answer Acheron gives him.

But she knows that’s not enough. Aventurine will still struggle to live for himself, after all he’s been through, after the mountain of expectations and hopes and dreams piled onto him. So she tells him his friend has already given him the answer. Aventurine pulls out the note written by Dr. Ratio. It doesn’t give him a plan, doesn’t inform him of what expectations he has for him, doesn’t list every single reason why Aventurine should keep going. Ratio tells Aventurine to stay alive and keep on living, because he doesn’t need anything more than that, there isn’t anything more than that. Her caring about Aventurine, Ratio caring about Aventurine, that’s enough to keep him going, because other peoples love is enough of a reason to exist, universe be damned.

existing. The Existence. AKSJAKKSNDKKWEN.

Like you don’t understand, you don’t understand. ACHERON IS ENVELOPED IN THE MEANINGLESSNESS OF THE UNIVERSE BEFORE SHE FINDS ITS EXISTENCE, ITS VALUE, ITS MEANING. Even if it can never be achieved, Acheron is willing to destroy herself completely as she walks farther and farther into the Nihility trying to find the Existence, even if it takes every from her she will find it. Only by giving up her existence can Acheron find the Existence and kill the Nihility. Only by sacrificing her own life and giving up her own meaning can she give it to others.

Red. She tells the trailblazer that when they can no longer see the world in anything but black and white, there will be a brief flash of Red for them.

Red is the Existence. Red is the color of her blade that allowed her to cut that black hole in half. Red is the only color left when she unsheathes her sword. Red is the color of the tears she cries. Red is the color of the words she speaks to us that truly matter.

Red is the color she cuts into reality. In a world of black and white, in which all the light has been swallowed by IX, and the path ahead is blurry, Acheron illuminates the universe’s future in bright red, creating color, creating life, creating Existence in a world devoid of it.

We will encounter the Nihility along our journey, just as we would encounter every other aeon. The world will seem meaningless, and it will be devoid of color, but when the Trailblazer needs it the most, there will be Red. A reason to keep going, a reason to exist, a reason to keep on Trailblazing, because the path of the Trailblaze’s end is also at the Existence, and we will meet Acheron there again. Whether that color will come from us or her remains to be seen, but it will be there for us when we need it.

However, I think we/the Trailblazer will be alone. As that flash of red isn’t the only thing Acheron tells the Trailblazer.

Only when left alone can people pick themselves up. Only when help is absent can people truly fight for themselves. Only when you are alone, can you truly understand your existence.

That doesn’t mean other people don’t matter, that you have to walk the world alone, that you can only exist devoid of others. Quite the opposite actually, other people can be your reason to exist, something to help keep you going. Acheron knows this, which is why she directs Aventurine to Ratio’s note. That’s the meaning he can find in a meaningless universe.

Moreover, people help each other, they provide the tools other people need to exist, the anchors that ground people in reality, the reason why you might want to wake up in the morning, they create the things and ideas that you need and enjoy. It’s when you are ripped of these comforts, stripped of the things that make you want to keep going, is when people fight for their existence. As in a world devoid of everything, can you truly appreciate the things you have, and acknowledge that since there is now nothing, you are the only something. When there is no one there to save them, fools pick themselves up, and that is Existence.

I love Acheron. I love her silly amnesiac tendencies, I love her beautiful design, I love that she’s a Mei counterpart, but most of all, I love what she stands for.

Acheron is the indomitable human spirit personified, she quite literally chooses to exist in the face of absolute nothing. When the world loses all color, does she paint reality in a bright red with her sword, writing her own destiny with each and every slash.

And for that, I will always adore her.

[nnight-dances]

SOME GUY!

pairings: mark lee x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, heated moments tropes: close friends to lovers?, mark avoids u because he's stupid, taeyong as your perfect ex who's still in love w u, u kiss mark's face to shut him up. warnings: mint ice-cream slander, mark is some guy, skinship, college frat party, not proofread.

author's note: haha guess who's in their mark phase hhhhh... sorry he's just such an interesting guy i could write him all day long. either way!!! more mark appreciation, less depression <3

—

at the end of the day, mark really was just some guy.

that’s what he thought to himself everytime he sat down to really consider the reality of all things. he doesn’t mean to get all self-deprecating and emo like that, but it was just a neutral truth thing that kinda hurts the first time you realize it but then it’s just the obvious thing in your daily life. but of course, if he ever did tell someone that he always felt like some guy among a bunch of cool guys, regardless of their gender, he would have to sit through one of those ultimately useless and pitiful speeches about how talented he really was.

— “you know what? you’re right!”

mark’s thoughts zap off their route when he hears you agree with his remark a few seconds ago. honestly, he hadn’t been completely sure if you’d heard him because of the lack of reaction you’d given him. but when you suddenly chuckle and agree with him, mark chokes over the stream of dr pepper in his throat.

he coughs desperately, “wait, what?”

your smile widens, “you’re just some guy. that’s like the perfect description of you.”

under normal circumstances, mark thinnks he would’ve been offended by how certain you sound. but the way you say it? it’s not like you’re trying to be mean or condescending… more like you’re just saying the truth. the neutral truth thing…

“i can’t believe you,” mark mutters, face splitting in a laugh, “i can’t believe you’re agreeing with me!” you look slightly confused but continue, “don’t tell me you’re hurt? you were the one who brought it up!”

mark shakes his head, controlling his laughter, still slightly losing his mind. “you’re really something, bro. i just didn’t expect you to actually be honest.” he laughs again, taking a sip of his drink again, becoming aware that he was being too loud for a bookstore. thankfully though, on a brief glance around, nobody seemed to care.

you fiddle with the zipper of your pencil pouch in thought. then, a shrug as you look back at mark, “hmm, isn’t that funny. i’m some thing, you’re some guy.”

mark falls into another fit of laughter before he knows it, disbelieving more than anything over your badly disguised shamelessness. you hold in a laugh as you land the last punch to his gut, “the perfect pair, isn’t it?” — the punch that sends him right into an oblivion of a world where nothing except you makes sense.

(ok perhaps, mark was being a tad dramatic. you know what he means though: he’s smitten.)

—

if someone were to kidnap you for the purposes of interrogating your honesty behind your claims that you thought mark was some guy, you’d probably get shot in the head instead, because there was no way you were letting anyone in on the information that you did not actually consider mark some guy.

maybe, a little, yes, but at this point, the phrase ‘some guy’ needs some more definiton. some guy as in boring and bland and dry and overdone? absolutely not. if that was what mark was, you wouldn’t have been committing every last one of your wednesday evenings, aka the only free evenings you ever get, to sitting in a crowded bookstore to pretend to do homework with him. you never did homework with mark around.

mark was the kind of some guy that was just being himself. yeah, that’s all you got. mark was mark. good explanation.

“bro? y/n, you good?”

you blink, finding mark swaying in front of you. you were currently sat on a bench near the building where your next class was.

“uhh, sorry,” you take off your headphones to look up at mark, “what are you doing on this part of campus?”

mark shrugs with a playful smile, “why can’t i be here?”

“because you literally don’t take any classes in the econ department?”

he shrugs again, “what if i’ve changed my ways? we’re still young and free, y/n, think a little outside the box, won’t you?”

“you’re taking econ? how- how did you-?”

“oh, look at that,” mark cuts you off, holding up his phone in front of your face. the time reads 11:05 am. “it’s time for our class. let’s go.” you’re busy processing his words (our class???) when he pulls you by the arm and toward the hall behind you.

and that’s the story of how you go from knowing absolutely nobody in your econ class, to sitting next mark in the extremely damp and cramped chairs of your econ class which means your arm is constantly touching his which you, for some reason, don’t hate. probably because the chilly fall wind coming through the window next to mark always makes you glad for the warmth.

mark, on the other hand, smiles a small smile whenever you shuffle closer because even though, the guy (doyoung is his name?) in front of him is always asking him to close the window, he would rather not.

—

“you’re kidding? ice-cream? in this fucking weather?” you question mark, coughing a fake cough to make your point.

“what are you, a coward?”

when you give mark an unimpressed look, he breaks a laugh, grabbing hold of you by your elbow. cheekily, he says, “please. for me?”

you frown, feeling your resolve crumble under his stupid gaze, “i hate you,” you say but let mark pull you after him into the tiny corner shop.

the two of you huddle over the menu of the ice-cream shop, and you exclaim quietly, “oh! i’ve been wanting to try their raspberry choco flavor for a while!” mark looks between you and menu, “ah, really? that sounds kinda good.”

then, he shifts to look at the girl behind the counter, “uhh, we’ll have one mint chocolate and one raspberry choco, please.” you gasp at mark’s choice, “m-mint chocolate?! mark. i think i might break up with you.”

mark is too busy reddening at your joke that hits too close to home to notice the worker chuckling at you. she processes your orders and mark has time to recover.

when he looks back at you, you’re still grimacing. “i didn’t think you could get any worse.”

“are you sure you should be saying that to someone who’s treating you to icecream?”

“huh?” your eyes widen and then you smile, “ahhh, i see. i wasn’t aware you were bribing me into have a favorable opinion of you.” before mark can retort though, you continue with a smirk, “i’m not complaining though.”

your smirk both flusters and scares mark because it’s evidence you’re upto no good in your head but before he can air his suspicion, you’re reaching out for the two cones of icecream that the girl is handing out.

“you guys are really cute together,�� the worker remarks shyly, giving you a thumbs up of approval.

mark chokes on the first bite of his mint choco icecream. you look at mark and he expects you to shut down the worker swiftly, but then you reach for his hand, pulling him closer with a bashful smile and say, “thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”

“uh-?” you cut mark’s question off by pulling him out of the store after you.

when you’re outside, you burst into laughter at the perplexed look on mark’s look, looking absolutely adorable next to his already melting green blob of an abomination.

—

the next morning, mark is still suffering through it, unable to come to terms with your actions yesterday. they were honestly not out of character for you. you were always one to do shit just because you knew it would get a reaction out of someone else. like, that time you didn’t tell mark he had spinach in his teeth the whole time he was speaking in econ and only told him at the end. yeah, sure, but surely that was different from you pretending that you and mark were together. right?

mark’s pulled out of his thoughts when his phone buzzes next to his pillow. he stirs to his side, opening his phone only to find a text from you.

y/n: fuck u

mark’s heart skips a beat, no matter the fact that you’re swearing at him the first thing in the morning.

mark: what did i do now…

y/n: it’s ur fault

mark: ???

y/n: i’m fuckin sick

“oh, fuck,” mark swears, sitting up with a frown, fingers quickly shooting a flurry of concerned texts back.

mark: oh shit really?

mark: im so sorry

mark: how bad is it?

y/n: it’s just a cold, dw not that bad

mark: what does that mean?

you, however, don’t bother to elaborate any more on your condition, going silent.

he groans, guilt settling in the slouch of his shoulder as he stares at his screen for a solid 10 minutes before giving up on your response. as he gets ready for the day, at the top of mark’s to do list is to visit your dorm room with medicine and snacks.

but by the time 3 pm rolls around, mark finds himself constantly distracted by classes and homeowork. he looks at the time and sighs. you hadn’t managed to get back to him. but considering how he hadn’t seen you in econ or lunch, your cold was more than ‘not bad’.

sitting outside the library to collect his thoughts, he spots chaewon, your roommate. the two of you had run into mark on a grocery shopping errand and mark had had a decent enough conversation to make him run up to chaewon.

“oh!” chaewon is surprised at first when mark blocks her way with a quick hey. “oh hey, mark!”

“um,” mark looks at the take-out box in her hands, “um, is that for y/n?”

“oh, yeah. did you hear? she woke up this morning with a fever.”

“a fever?”

“yeah, it was pretty high too. i had to force her to stay in bed or i think she would’ve just gone to class like the dumbass she is.”

mark frowns, “oh, no. has she eaten all day?”

chaewon hums in thought, “she told me she was fine for breakfast. i’m not sure if she had lunch though so i was just going to take some pizza and salad in case she’s been starving.”

mark’s frown deepens as she adds, “oh i better hurry though! i have to get back here in time for my dance practice.”

“ah…” he scratches his head, “uhh, if you’re busy, i wouldn’t mind dropping it off to y/n.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow, “wait, really? you’d do that?”

“um, yeah. it’s my fault she got sick anyway. i made her eat icecream last night.”

she laughs, “a little icecream wouldn’t have done that. but sure! it’d be a great help, if you did that. thanks, mark.”

mark hadn’t thought this through, he realizes when he reaches the door that reads y/n on the door, right next to chaewon. he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, before knocking on the door. “y/n?” his voice breaks mid-sentence and he wants to hide in a hole somewhere, but you’re quick to throw your door open.

your hair is up in a bun which bobs in rhythm with your head, when you find mark outside your room, “mark? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“you weren’t responding to my texts,” he mumbles, and then holds up chaewon’s takeout box in one hand and in the other, the bag of medicine and snacks he’d packed. “i come bearing gifts though.”

you cough hoarsely into your elbow, pulling at the hem of your green hoodie as you consider mark in front of you. “you could’ve told me you were coming,” you sound… shy? mark thinks as he follows into your room after you gesture him to enter.

he looks at your bed and chuckles at the mess that is your bed. then, he smiles as he looks at the eccentric yet coherent collage of pictures and letters on your wall. “this is so you,” he comments and places the food and medicine on your table.

you pout, “a room that looks like all hell broke lose… is me? wow, thanks, mark.”

mark wants to refute your comment, he does, but then he gets distracted by how the way you say his name in your hoarse inside voice and he coughs a little. “i got you medicine though?” he sounds squeaky to his own ears.

you smile though at that, looking inside the bag he’s kept. “ahhh, ramen! i knew i could count on you, mark lee.”

mark almost wants to beg you to stop saying his name so much. but instead he shoots you a thumbs up, “how are you holding up?”

you nod in thought, still unpacking everything mark bought, “hmm, i’m alive. you should’ve seen me in the morning though i felt like something was trying to crawl out my skin.”

you laugh at the imagery, pausing when you catch the guilty look on mark. you already know he’s about to apologize when he opens his mouth. you hold up a finger threateningly, “i know i said that in the morning, but it’s not actually your fault. i always get sick like this every time fall rolls around.”

“no, for real though, i did force you to come eat icecream with me, didn’t i? i’m sorry.”

“ugh, mark, trust me, i wouldn’t have eaten the icecream if i really didn’t want to,” you say, too kindly for your usual snarkiness as if you can sense how genuine mark’s apology was, “for real, my body’s just weird like that.”

when mark remains silent for another minute, you groan, “i know! you can repay me. stay and we can watch a movie or something. all the sleeping’s making me feel gross. plus, i couldn’t eat all this food myself.”

and that’s how mark finds himself settled next to you on your bed, blanket covering half his body, watching gilmore girls (your fall preference of entertainment, it seems). the first half hour went by fine, with one of you commenting ocassionally at something the characters did, but then you shifted closer to mark with a cough.

he was shocked at first but then he wonders if the medicine you’d taken before were starting to take effect. (he’d questioned how wise it was for you to be taking them before watching something, but he also didn’t want to make your condition worse.)

“you good, y/n?” he mumbles under his breath when he feels your head come to rest against his shoulder. he sounds surprisingly calm for the turmoil that is bursting within his veins at the contact.

you hum in acknowledgement, sniffing a little, “yeah, just a little sleepy.”

“oh, you should probably rest then,” mark reaches for the spacebar to pause the episode but your cold hand pulls his finger away. except you don’t let go of his finger, instead seeming to crave warmth, you’re suddenly holding his hand, icy fingertips coming to rest against the back of his palm.

mark’s hearbeat is in his ears by now but he lets you hold his hand as you protest, “mm, don’t wanna sleep. just keep watching.”

you don’t sound promising but he doesn’t argue, letting you having the final say in this situation.

five minutes later though, you stir against mark’s side, arm now in his lap and… yeah, you’re falling asleep.

mark freezes at the realization when he sees your eyelashes fluttering shut. oh god. oh no… this wasn’t good for his well-being. or his obsession with you. or anything.

he clears his throat, hating himself, “um, y/n?”

you don’t respond except for a short grunt that indicates you don’t intend to wake up. he doesn’t have the heart to move you but also, this wasn’t right, was it?

there wasn’t anything wrong with it per se, except of course the fact that it did not help mark’s big fat ugly crush on you or the fact that he spent the whole day thinking about how you were sick and it was his fault.

you move slightly in your sleep, suddenly seeming to come to. your eyes open a little, “mark?” your voice is dangerously low.

“yeah?” mark can hear the nerves in his voice.

you’re pulling him now, without a warning, onto your bed. “you’re warm. stay.”

mark’s eyes widen when you turn to hug him around the waist.

fuck. fuck. fuck. FUCK. this was… THIS IS…. UTREJKLSGIURKEJU?????YGSAELRIAY

mark brain malfunctions for a good minute before he remembers how to think. first, he thinks he has to leave or you’ll hate him forever. but when he tries to budge, you groan an annoyed groan making him scared to leave..

??? what is one supposed to do in these circumstances?

he stills, deciding it was better if he let you doze off comfortably. he slowly places an arm around your shoulder, patting a reassuring back rub into your skin. you nuzzle closer into him, clueless of the way mark is short-circuiting.

before he knows it though, mark finds himself dozing off, chin pressed up against the bone of your shoulder. the sleep isn’t chaotic like his thoughts usually are, but it’s a peaceful sleep, the kind that you only get when you share a bed with someone.

—

ever since that eventful… nap, mark has found himself growing closer to you, in all senses of the phrase. you’d seemed to start trusting mark more, your bookstore evenings turning into whole days spent in each other’s company. sometimes you’d be at each other’s room, more often yours, but otherwise, you’d end up in some new corner of campus, giggling over half-completed essays and collectively complaining about econ.

you’d also grown closer… physically. something about spending a sick evening in someone’s arms, you’d like to say. whatever the reason was, one way or another, you’d find a way to be next to each other.

you’d made a habit of holding mark’s hand, especially on colder days when your fingers lost all feeling till you pressed them into the knuckles of mark’s warm ones. other times, mark’s hand would be on your shoulder or back, casually doodling into your skin, a lazy smile on his face while you dramatically narrate some event from your life.

mark could tell something was different, though he dared not investigate what it was, too afraid to mess up what he had right now.

but then, he does the stupid thing of asking you the question.

it’s on a late night hangout in your room when chaewon’s out for the weekend to visit home, and y’all are sprawled on your bed, exhausted from a movie marathon.

something about the dim lights and the way you lean against his shoulder, makes him speak. “do you like someone right now?”

for a good while, mark thinks he mustn’t have asked the question out loud because of how quiet you are. but then, “what about you?”

“not fair! i asked you first,” mark complains with a chuckle. you shrug, “not telling if you don’t.”

he rolls his eyes, “two can play this game, y’know. i’m not giving.”

“ugh, fine. i’ll tell you about my ex for now.”

mark’s ear perks up at the mention and he waits for you to continue.

“ah, this is so embarassing to talk about. but.. last semester i was with taeyong.”

“wait. lee taeyong?”

“mhm-hm. you know him? he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off. we broke up right before new year’s eve so that was fun.”

mark falls silent as he recalls everything he can about lee taeyong. so far he has: perfect face and killer charm. oh yeah, wasn’t he a student athlete?

“you dated an athelete?” mark can’t help but ask.

“see! i know you’d make fun,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“no- no, i’m not making fun. that’s insane. taeyong is, like, famous.”

you groan, “and you’re listing all the reasons i broke up with him.”

mark isn’t sure what he can do with this information so he releases a strained chuckle, suddenly ready to head back to his room. he can’t be too obvious though, so he waits a bit.

“what about you?” you ask him, poking his arm. “any embarassing boyfriends?”

mark laughs despite it all, “i wish. i was in a silly little relationship but it was so long ago that i hardly remember.” with that, he sits up, a little abruptly.

you frown as he clears his throat, “um, anyway, i should get back soon. i’ve got to sleep.”

“the fuck?” you question, “it’s like 11 pm?”

“well, yeah, i have an early morning tomorrow.”

“on a sunday?”

“yeah, uhm, i forgot to tell you about this new job i have. anyways, i should really sleep soon. i’ll see you later, yeah?”

and just like that, mark leaves your room, with you gaping at how fast he’d made his exit, not even bothering to make real excuses. new job? halfway through the semester? yeah, sure. you feel your mood dampening at mark’s sudden cold shoulder, wondering if you’d upset him. but no matter how many times you thought about it, you weren’t sure what had made him act like that.

mark, on the other hand, can’t get the conversation out of his head, even as he walks to the library at 8 am on a sunday, ready to finish all traces of homework in existence. it doesn’t matter though because sitting in the silence of the study room, his mind repeats your words.

he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off.

boy, did mark feel stupid as shit. for everything? for thinking you were into him. somewhere along the way, your hands on his had him confused. for a minute there, he had stopped thinking about how he was actually just some guy. some guy who you chose to hang out with now and then, some guy who was your friend. mark was nowhere close to being taeyong, and even taeyong didn’t cut it for you. really, though, he couldn’t blame you. you really did deserve the best anyone could imagine.

a text from you interrupts his self-loathing spiralling.

y/n: heyoo!! u alive?

y/n: u left kinda abruptly last night. is everything ok?

mark clenches his fist as if to obliterate the hopeful smile that threatens his face. he thinks of how he might respond: sorry cant talk i’ve to make sure i’m not in love with u before i see u again or maybe: sorry i’m just trying not to cry in broad daylight bc i love u too much hjbykyvkvyf

“fuck! sorry!” a voice pulls mark back from his head. he looks up to see who’s broken into his study room… only to see lee taeyong standing there in confusion. of course this happens to mark.

“uhh, can i help you?” mark barely controls the snap that tries to escape him at the sight of taeyong.

“um, sorry,” taeyong looks down at his phone then back at mark, “i could’ve sworn i booked this room for the next hour…”

mark frowns, certain he’d booked this room for the next two hours. usually, he would’ve just told taeyong he’s booked it wrong, but instead he just says, “oh? i guess you can take this room then. i’ll go somewhere else.”

mark starts packing up but the other boy protests quickly, “no, no! it’s okay. i- um, i’d feel bad if you did that. what if… what if we shared? it’ll be nice to have someone else in the room, no?” taeyong smiles brightly at mark and the latter wants his eyes to stop working already.

call it the law of inertia, but something in mark doesn’t let him just leave the room, almost intrigued by how this might turn out. “alright, then.”

taeyong, as much as mark hates to admit it, is really nice. he hadn’t ever heard anything to refute that, but sitting silently in a room with someone really tells you all you need to know about someone. either way, the study sessions somehow seems to provide mark some sense of peace.

or so he thinks.

what he doesn’t expect is that two hours later, as the two of them are packing up to empty the room for the next occupant, for the next occupant to be… you. yes, of course, that’s gonna happen in this story.

for a moment, mark doesn’t find it particularly shocking to see you but when he notices the stiff look you share with taeyong, he realizes what’s happening.

you’d just entered the room with a knock when you’d noticed who was inside. your eyes travel between mark and taeyong, your mind unable to make sense of this.

your first thought is… is this why mark was weird last night? because he was close to taeyong and got offended by your remarks?

that would be the easy alternate, wouldn’t it? but even you can tell there’s a dryness in the way mark looks at the two of you, a look that unsettles you. of course, the sight of taeyong also unsettles you.

he speaks up before you, “y/n?”

you awkwardly wave at the two of them, “hi mark. hey taeyong. didn’t expect to see the two of you together.”

you look at mark pointedly but he’s not giving you much to work with. he just laughs as taeyong rushes to explain, “ah, i made a mistake in booking this room at the same time as mark, and he was kind enough to let me stay.”

marks want to leave right now. because of the way taeyong’s eyes are sparkling at the sight of you, hands nervously fidgeting. but he decides against it, when he sees you uneasy you seem, tight grip around the strap of your tote bag.

“what are you doing here?” mark asks and a part of you is relieved that he’s talking to you.

“um, homework. i didn’t really know what else to do ever since my friend started ghosting me.”

mark flinches at your attack, but persists in looking as indifferent as he can. “sorry about that, i got caught up finishing this essay.”

taeyong awkwardly coughs, “um, i should probably leave now. i have practice to get to.”

mark is quick to follow after taeyong, scared to death of being alone in a room with you. he doesn’t know what to do with himself around you anymore. “uhh, yeah, i’ll leave you to do homework, then! see ya!”

and just like that, it’s a repeat of last night. mark’s back receding except this time you watch him wave at you with a half-hearted smile as he leaves. you barely manage to close the door behind you before you feel yourself tear up.

this is stupid, you realize through tears, to be crying over something like this. but something like this? it meant a lot to you. you sit where mark sat minutes ago, the same disappointment in your eyes and a similar weight in your heart.

mark is not having the time of his life either though, as he walks out the library with taeyong, who starts asking questions about you as soon as he can.

“so you’re friends with y/n?” mark simply nods at that, having seen this coming.

“that’s cool. she’s really cool, isn’t she?”

“yeah, i suppose. she’s fun.”

“how close are you to her?”

mark laughs dismissively, “haha, i feel like i’ve done something wrong. calm down, bro.”

taeyong flushes at that, rubbing his neck, “oh, sorry. i didn’t mean to interrogate you like that. it’s just… you probably know about us, right?”

that words leaves taeyong’s mouth and buries itself deep into mark’s heart. us.

taeyong continues, “it’s just that i really miss her, man. i don’t think i’ve had as much fun with anyone else since her. or maybe, it’s just because i’m always comparing everyone to her.”

mark really doesn’t know what to say, feeling himself stuck in a similar situation. “hmm, it’ll get better.”

“i hope you’re right,” taeyong says, cheerfully patting mark’s back, “well, i have to go that way. see you around, bro. take care of her.”

take care of her? marks smiles remorsefully as he watches taeyong leave. and he wonders what was going on in your mind when you broke up with someone that perfect? what went on in your head when you befriended mark, just some guy?

—

on saturday, it’s been a whole week since you’ve talked to mark. you’d actually stayed up all night yesterday hoping he’d have a change of heart on friday night, and he’d text you with a can we talk? or come knocking on your door with an apologetic smile with some silly excuse. and you would’ve accepted it all because you were not familar with a mark-less existence. the past week was.. not good for you.

but on saturday night, you decide it’s enough. or rather, chaewon decides it’s enough when she sees you ready to spend the night in bed.

“y/n, i’m sorry but i can’t respect your stupid decisions anymore,” she bursts into the room with a concerned look.

you frown, “ouch? you just called me stupid.”

“because that’s what you’re being. i don’t care if you’re going through it, i’m not letting you woe over some guy on the weekend.”

you grimace at the phrase some guy, remembering your conversation with mark. “hey! i’m talking to you, miss,” chaewon’s hands pull off your bed. “let’s go out tonight. i don’t care.”

“chaewon…” you complain, voice low.

“y/n, my dear friend, stop giving up on life because mark lee is ghosting you. if i know anything about the two of you, y’all will be back to cuddling each other next week.”

you want to say you’re afraid that’s not gonna happen but chaewon is moving too fast for you. she throws a dress at you and then, a coat. “wear those and come to yunjin’s room. we’re pre-gaming.”

an hour later, you’re not feeling so bad after all. you’d forgotten how fun getting wasted really was. you giggle hopelessly when yunjin cracks another “slayyy~” at chaewon’s empty glass. as sakura pours her another shot, you nudge her with your own empty cup.

your roommate frowns a little, “you sure you’re not going too fast?”

you roll your eyes, “chaewon! you’re the one who wanted to slut me out tonight. how am i gonna do that sober?” that makes everyone double up in laughter and you down the vodka with a triumphant sigh.

another hour later, you’re really feeling yourself. the pre-game finally ended with all of you walking to the frat that was throwing tonight. the first step you take into the crowded room has you regretting your decision, but your worries go to waste once you’re hearing the music blast through your veins.

you stay within chaewon’s group for most of the night. the girls are fun, yunjin being one of the best people you’ve partied with. it’s halfway through a doja cat song when you feel your bladder getting full from all the beer. you groan at all the effort it’s gonna take to go upstairs to where the bathroom was, but you could use a break.

you quickly tell chaewon you’ll be back, pointing in the direction of the bathroom and reassure her you’re fine when she asks to come with. the world is definitely spinning as you go up the stairs but you do make it to the top without falling over.

but as soon as you reach for the door of the bathroom, you lose balance as the person inside emerges. “fuck,” you groan, falling over into the person ahead, “’m sorry,” you mumble, supporting yourself against the sink.

you’re ready to push whoever it is out of the bathroom when you heard a familar voice. “y/n?”

you look up and actually gasp when you see mark in front of you. “mark?!” you sound incredulous but honestly, you’re just ecstatic. “i miss you,” you say your thoughts shamelessly.

mark reddens or so your vision tells you. “y/n, are you drunk?”

you frown and shake your head, about to explain yourself when a loud voice outside tells you to hurry up with your business, the door still open. mark shouts a, “find somewhere else, buddy!” and shuts the door, locking it behind him.

your drunk brain isn’t doing well with the concept of you in a locked room with mark. “are you drunk, mark?”

mark laughs at your question, “a little, yeah.”

“okay, good, then can you just-” you lose your balance again and mark steadies you instantly, warm hand on your elbow. you lose your train of thoughts at the feel of him, looking into his eyes wordlessly.

you think you stay there for a minute like that, the two of you just catching up on all the looks you’ve missed out on in the last week.

“why are you mad at me?” you ask the question that’s been bugging you for ages. wanting mark to understand how hurt you’ve been, you pull at the sleeve of shirt, “i’ve been so sad. why are you avoiding me?”

mark takes your hand in his, “no! it’s not like that. i’m… not mad at you.”

“really?” you question him through a pout, “really?”

he doesn’t know what to do when pinned with that gaze of yours in that moment. and then his eyes land up on your lips, your little pout.

he knew the alcohol was a bad idea because now he can’t think straight, knowing he has to explain everything to you or he might lose it all. but somehow, instead of words, he feels another ugre crawl up his skin.

just as you open your mouth to speak, you feel mark’s lips on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp into his mouth, and he pulls away just as soon as he leaned in. he drops your hand, falling to his knees.

it takes you a moment to re-orient yourself after the taste of mark in your mouth, but you hear mark sniffle and instantly join him on the ground, hands on his face.

“are you crying?”

mark tries to stop himself but he can’t. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry.”

“hey,” you find yourself sobering up. how could you not when mark lee is in front of you, tears staining his ever-smiling face? “hey, mark, look at me.” he wipes at his face shakily, looking up at you through a fresh flood of tears.

“i’m sorry,” his voice breaks, “i’ve been acting so selfish with you. i shouldn’t have avoided you. i shouldn’t have kissed you. i’m.. it’s all because…” he trails off conveniently at the part of his sentence you most need to hear.

your fingers trail down to his chin, bringing his face back up, “it’s all because of what, mark? talk to me, baby.”

something in mark uncoils when you coo at him lovingly like that, his name as breathy as the nickname you suddenly throw at him. his lip quivers but his words are clear as day, “fuck, i’m into you, y/n. i know i’m just some guy really but i think i like you. i- like romantically, i’m dying to be with you.” he sighs when you don’t say anything, stunned into silence.

your hand stays put on his face though which mark thinks of as a good sign. gingerly, he takes your hand, gaze pointed at your interlocked fingers. “i know it’s awkward because you’re not into me like that. it’s all good, i understand.”

“mark, you’re drunk,” you finally mumble out, hand twitching in disbelief. “you’re just saying things.”

mark stiffens, “w-what? no! i’m serious, y/n. i’m not even that drunk anymore. how could i be, when you’re right here?” but then, he stirs, hands leaving yours, “oh, but if you’d rather forget that this happened—”

it’s a replay of five minutes ago, except this time your lips come crashing into mark’s, with so much force that you topple him over. he takes you with him, hand finding purchase at your waist as he pulls you on top of him, his back hitting the door of the bathroom.

your kiss is fierce, almost angry because you did not deserve to be kept in the dark about mark’s feelings. you push closer to him, making him groan into your lips at the intensity. you pull away then, hand at mark’s chest, “i hate you for avoiding me like that, mark. i can’t believe you.”

mark tries to explain himself but you’re kissing him again, swallowing his words whole, unforgiving in the way your hands grip his arms. again, you pull away, “what did you think? that i’d stop talking to you because you like me? you’re so stupid sometimes, mark.”

“i don’t—”

“no, you don’t understand. do you see me right now?” mark nods, eyes trailing at your disheveled state. mark couldn’t forget this sight if he wanted to: your hair wet with sweat, panting in between mark’s legs, lips a breath away.

“do i look like i hate you?”

“i mean, you do look annoyed,” mark remarks and you slap his arm with a snarl.

“that’s because you’re being unfair. what about my feelings for you, huh?” you challenge with a glare. “what about how much i suffered just because you decided to not show up to the bookstore? all because you came to some stupid conclusion by yourself?”

“wait,” mark starts, but you’re not letting him talk.

“no, listen, if i could, i’d seriously slap you. because i’m that down bad for you, mark! i’ve been thinking about doing this with you ever since you fell asleep in my bed that day. so fuck you, for hurting me like that.”

you’re breathless, eyes still trained on mark with that look of betrayal mixed with desire. you can’t help yourself though, mark looks absolutely breath-taking in front of you, mouth ajar in shock, lips red from your relentless kisses.

mark takes too long to process your words just then, long enough that you’re coming down from your high, embarassment flooding your veins. you go cold, standing up with a grunt. “i’m just gonna go back,” you mutter in disappointment, leaving before you can see mark’s response.

he’s coming back to his senses now, realizing that maybe you were right about how stupid he’d been. “fuck,” he breathes out, regaining his footing as he chases after you.

this chase proves to be difficult, given that the party only seems to have gotten more crowded since mark left. he struggles through the throngs of people, shouldering through, when he spots a silhouette of you in his peripheral vision. you were outside, apparently talking to another taller figure.

mark follows your shadow to the door, quickly making his way out. his breath hitches when he finds taeyong next to you. his arm is around your shoulder and you’re speaking to him in a low voice.

“y/n,” mark calls out, not hesitating to break taeyong’s hold on you, replacing it with his own embrace. he pulls you close. your eyes are teary and you sniff when you see mark, “what-”

“i’m sorry, can we talk?” he mumbles into your side, still aware of taeyong’s presence.

“oh, hey, mark. i was just,” taeyong moves to stand in front of the two of you, “taking care of y/n. she looked sick.”

“i’m fine, taeyong,” you reassure him, pressing yourself into mark’s side. “i’ll let mark walk me home. good night.” mark is impressed at how easily you dismiss taeyong, pulling mark after you.

“what do you want?”

mark stops you from walking, pulling you into a hug instead. “you’re right, i’m really stupid. let me ask you this instead: would you let me be your boyfriend?”

you release a soft laugh against his neck at his question, arms still for a moment for dramatic effect. then, you wrap yourself around him, kissing your answer into his ear, “of course, you idiot.”

—

[phenikas]

Rhack Week 2023 | Day 5 - Night Out

Words: 1623

Warnings: Mentions of depression and death "mild" alcohol consumption, very vague descriptions of sexual stuff (it's as vague as it can be, although still not recommended for minors)

_______________________

Blinding neon lights, music that drowns out every bleak thought, and most importantly- a never-ending tab at one of Meridian's hottest clubs- The Supernova.

Jack had never been one to dislike such distractions, especially when he needed to get his mind off work. But being a floating hologram stuck with a depressed CEO of a multimillion-dollar weapons giant meant that he had no work. His only source of entertainment was watching Rhys eat, sleep, work, and drink himself away.

Maybe Jack should've said something earlier. Maybe he could've prevented this slow and agonizing spiral into borderline alcoholism. But time and time again, he had been reminded that he was a nobody to the Atlas CEO. Endless strings of code kept up to date by the kindness of Rhys' heart.

"The Supernova? Again?"

"Shut up."

He had no say over how Rhys should live his life. Jack kept his promise that he'd watch Rhys wither away, wait until the perfect moment to strike, snatch his life and all that kept him going.

The problem was, Jack didn't know what kept him- them- going. Was it a principle? To survive despite all odds? Rhys' willingness to fight his way out of whatever turmoil he could? Or did he have a higher purpose Jack didn't know about?

"Maybe we could-"

"I said shut up!"

Jack sat back, as he always did, and watched with concern in his mind. Kept his mouth shut as Rhys poured unknown contents into his mouth. Held his gaze, green-eyed, resentful towards any who plastered their physical bodies against Rhys' in an uncaring manner.

Being an observer was torture. "Think you've had enough for tonight, cupcake. I know you can't handle-"

"You don't know shit, alright?" Rhys snapped his head at the hologram, oblivious to all who gave him concerned looks, "You don't know me. You don't know what I want. You don't care. So stop pretending like you do."

Jack backed off, offended, scared for the first time since- since- "Why did you bring me back, huh? So I can watch you ruin your life? Because you were lonely? Because you didn’t know what else to do with me? Why am I still here?"

Rhys lowered his head, his attention on the half-empty glass in front of him. This was not a conversation they were meant to have at a stupid dance club, Jack knew that very well. But when else would he get his answers? If Rhys' avoidance of the topic when he was sober was as clear of a sign as Jack thought, then maybe Rhys’ drunken self would be more open to letting his feelings float to the surface. "Shut up."

Or not.

"Alright, how about this. You get me out of your cybernetics, I get out of your hair. Put me in a new body or destroy me. At this point, I couldn't give two shits what happens to me. I mean, anything's better than this. And you clearly don't want me around, so why the hell should I still be here."

"Fine." Jack didn't know what to make of this answer. Everything was better than living like he didn't exist. Even being sent into pure oblivion. But he didn't know if Rhys was taking his words seriously, or just trying to get rid of him for the night. "Remind me tomorrow. Now get out of my sight."

Remind me tomorrow. That phrase used to bring a smile to Jack's face. It was meant for trivialities, easily forgettable things that just couldn't stick around long enough for Rhys to remember.

But the more he used it, the more Jack realized that they were no longer in the territory of “triviality“. Rhys had been forgetting, his mind shutting down and only focused on the "now" rather than the past and future. He was dooming himself each and every second he spent in those stupid clubs. Numbing his mind. Forgetting how to feel.

Jack disappeared out of his vision, but he was still there, watching Rhys waste his night in the presence of like-minded individuals. Strangely enough, Jack didn't feel compelled to get out of Rhys' hair yet. It was a hypothetical question, the one he had given him; meant to get a reaction out of the man. But if Rhys didn't care enough to remember, then maybe it was finally time for Jack to leave.

_______________________

"Stupid-" Rhys whispered to himself, unable to meet the eyes of whoever was currently on top of him trying their best to rid Rhys of his current distraction. He came into the club to rid himself of troubles, and yet one seemed to just love lingering around, his name like sweet venom on his tongue, "-Jack."

"Not my name, honey."

Rhys rolled his eyes, pushing the stranger off him despite their heated moment. He couldn't deny that Jack got under his skin that night. Whatever the hell he meant by leaving- Rhys needed to stop thinking so hard. "Bring me something hard. Actually, scratch that- I need something that can get me wasted right now. And put it on my tab."

The stranger, a worker of the Supernova, nodded his head in a panicked manner, rushing off towards the bar. Rhys let out a groan of discomfort, sitting back in the booth. As soon as he noticed the blues of Jack's hologram appear right across from him, he started second-guessing his earlier order.

"Not really feeling it tonight, huh?"

Rhys hoped his annoyance and frustration caused by Jack were obvious in his drunken expressions. He gripped onto the seat so tightly; they must've been. But Jack was... Jack. Rhys had no idea how many things he could pick up on. "This would've been so much easier if you were-"

"Gone? Yeah, tell me about it."

"Here," Rhys whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He didn't know if his whisper was loud enough, or if Jack had read his mind somehow, but as soon as he opened his eyes, the hologram was at his side, concern written all over his features. "Here, Jack." Rhys weakly patted the spot next to him, then pointed at his forehead, "Not- not here."

"Rhys?" Jack's voice sounded distant, like an echo in a dark cave. It came suddenly, the darkness that overwhelmed Rhys. He could not see anything, yet he could feel his body moving on its own, out of his control. Maybe this was it. The moment Jack's been waiting for. A true test towards their gained trust. One that could cost him his life.

"I got it from here." Jack's voice was soft. Almost muted. Warm. Cautious. Safe. Everything Rhys wanted to hear at that moment. Yet the consequences terrified him.

He didn't want to die. Not yet.

"Jack-!"

_______________________

Rhys didn't know what it was that woke him up first; the artificial morning rays that shone through his window right onto his face, his throbbing headache, or the fact that he was still alive.

He was still alive.

He turned around in his bed, wanting to stay in just a while longer.

Just. A. While.

"Mornin', pumpkin."

Rhys' heart skipped a beat, remnants of last night coming up blank. He knew he'd been at the club, where else? But how did he get home? Did he call a cab? Did someone take him?

Did Jack?

Rhys turned around once again; his face instantly met with that of the hologram who had been kneeling near the bed for who knows how long. "Jack." Rhys reached his hand out, his thumb brushing against where Jack's lip should've been.

Jack's eyes followed the motion, silent, observing. And when Rhys’ hand didn't move, only then did he have the courage to speak, "It's been a while since I took control. Gotta say, I'm as surprised as you that I managed to get you here."

"Thank you."

The hologram gave him a weak smile. "Don't worry about it. I mean, it's the last thing I could do since- you know- I'll be going away one way or another."

Rhys' eyes widened, the dread from last night coming to the surface. Right. Jack had asked him to be let go. And Rhys agreed. Why did he agree again?

"I-" Rhys began, his voice stuck in his sore throat, coherent thoughts lost in his foggy mind. Jack watched him struggle with his words, waiting for an answer to their problem, "I don't- Jack, I don't want you to go. I can't-"

"Why?" Jack asked as straightforward of a question as he could. But Rhys didn't know the answer.

He couldn't admit the answer.

"I don't want you to go. Where would you even go? What's out there for you? Who else would you go to?"

"Who- what does that have to do with anything? You wanted me gone. I'm offering you a solution. So, pick your damn mind. What do you want?"

Rhys had hit a new low. Begging Handsome Jack to stay was embarrassing, something he never thought he'd do after everything they went through. But it was true. He needed Jack. "I want you to stay. Please. I'll give you a body, just don't go. I- I need a friend. Someone by my side. I need you."

"You need a friend." Jack repeated, the words feeling alien on his tongue.

"Y-Yes?"

"I'll stay," the hologram agreed, although Rhys could already see the reluctance in his eyes, "on one condition."

"Tell me."

"You stop going to that stupid club. And drinking. And paying for those weirdos." Jack stood up; his back turned to Rhys. Before he had disappeared completely though, there was something else Rhys overhead, perhaps by Jack's will, "Geez, wasting your money like that when I'm right here."

"Huh?"

_______________________

Rhack Week 2023 | Day 5 - Night Out

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 6

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

would love to hear more about your tes characters if you'd like to share :)

omg hello! well. since you asked!! adjusts my spectacles in a scholarly fashion. under the cut to save dash space!

Skyrim: Kharish gra-Shatul (Orsimer)

tall! buff!! femme!! ...who lives in Winterhold and so nobody ever gets to see the beef because of all the layers required by the cold :( (<-sad face mine bc I love women's muscles. she does not particularly care whether they are visible as long as they remain effective.) Kharish joins the College of Winterhold a few years prior to the game questline, first just as Urag's general assistant, then as the library's acquisitions specialist following the successful retrieval of a particularly interesting scrap of Shalidor's notes. she takes her position very seriously and has developed a correspondence with some other notable libraries (under the pen name "Violetta," because she's found some of her pen pals professional contacts are less likely to respond dismissively if the letter is not attached to an obviously Orsimer name). specializes primarily in alteration because it's useful for conservation of old texts, but knows her way around some conjuration as well. has a VERY BIG VOICE which is unfortunate in a library setting but she's working on it. trying very hard to learn how to tell a joke but just cannot get the hang of it. (Enthir has attempted to teach her some standard formulaic jokes but she laughs too hard to tell the punchline right.)

she also has an unrequited crush on Colette, who has no idea that's what's going on and is in fact convinced her life is being threatened every time Kharish looms awkwardly over her like HELLO MISTRESS MARENCE. AS I HAVE SOME UNOCCUPIED TIME I THOUGHT I WOULD COME TO HEAR YOUR LECTURE TODAY. I HAVE NO DOUBT IT WILL BE MOST ENLIGHTENING! and then stares at her from the back row of the classroom with a goofy smile and her chin in her hands.

her favorite color is blue :)

Kharish is not the archmage, which is probably best for all involved as she does not have the kind of interpersonal savvy required of a leadership/administrative position lol. Mirabelle survives (though never really fully recovers from the injuries sustained during questline events) and gets to be Archmage Ervine :')

Oblivion: Molly Cadoret (Breton)

Tamriel's least magical Breton. erstwhile barber hailing from Kvatch. having the worst time of her life. wears the Kvatch armor through everything and initially took it off the corpse of a cute lady guard who flirted with her sometimes... beat her first daedra to death with a rake in sheer panic and never really stopped the panicking part. because she's from Kvatch she never met the emperor and Baurus is the one given the imperial mandate to deliver the amulet and find the heir--he initially tries to sneak Martin out with the intent to send Blades reinforcements for the city, but Martin won't leave unless everyone in the chapel can and Molly in her (stolen? borrowed?) guard armor gets put on a small team of fighters sent into the gate to try to find how to close it. as the only survivor Baurus asks her to come with them so she can provide an account of what the interior of the gate looked like etc to the Blades. she does not understand how she keeps surviving the gates, surviving, surviving, surviving. Martin doesn't survive; why did she?

the door in Niben Bay is a gate, or close enough--she goes into it hoping, just a little bit, it might be the last one for her. and it is, but not for the reasons she expected. the first time she meets Sheogorath she offers to trim his beard for him in a panic (she's gotten very good at panicking by now). she doesn't pick up on the fact that she's being positioned as his successor until pretty late, at which point she has a lot of intense but mixed feelings. the passing of the torch, so to speak, leaves her with unprecedented control over her own mind at last, and being able to literally shut off the terror center of her brain means she sleeps all the way through the night for the first time since the destruction of Kvatch. she eventually loses herself to the mantle, but the tradeoff is she doesn't feel like a rabbit in a snare 24/7 anymore. it's... not the healthiest of recovery strategies (understatement of the era lol).

I named her after Molly Grue (my love...), and while she's a very different character I definitely was thinking a lot about the kinds of meta-narrative questions Molly Grue presents in the context of my Molly--specifically her choice to lose her own identity in mantling Sheogorath as a parallel to the Molly Grue/Maid Marian dichotomy + the desire to exchange the unfavorable reality for a beautiful dream (WHICH I am dutifully restraining myself from rambling about again as that's not really the question here).

Morrowind: Haldryn Elora (Dunmer)

trans lesbian. gap between her two front teeth. short twiggy lil thing with the wimpiest arms you ever saw. Haldryn (Hallie to her ma and her friends) was raised in Chorrol by an Argonian woman, Vakka-Ei (Sun-in-Her-Eyes), next door to an elderly gay Dunmer couple. her neighbors cheerfully answered whatever questions she has about Dunmer culture she had growing up--she loved stories about the Tribunal the most and considers herself fairly devout, though once she gets booted over to Vvardenfell she learns there's a lot more to... everything, and her attempts at home at acting out traditions and culture she didn't really know were (predictably) not quite the same. but it's a learning experience! and she is eager to learn! this is her big adventure!

she sees the golden ghost of Nerevar pretty regularly from a young age, though he doesn't say much and never introduces himself, so she refers to him as "the gold man." her ma assumes this is an Altmer imaginary friend, which she thinks is a little weird, but the whole thing seems harmless enough. he talks a little more as Hallie gets older, and she finds him standing silently over her shoulder many times throughout the events of the game. she grows to resent him--she gets the feeling sometimes, standing in front of the gods, that they don't really see her.

and, well, they don't.

the confrontation with Almalexia in particular absolutely shatters her. she primarily fights with a pair of bound daggers and doesn't summon them for the majority of this fight, desperately trying to say the right thing to fix it instead. she ends up summoning a pair of bound swords instead of daggers at exactly the wrong (or right?) moment.

she never sees Nerevar again after this. she wishes, very hard, she'd never seen him in the first place.

the only place I've really publicly shared art of them so far is on artfight (along with a bit more prose-y summaries) but I have,, a number of things in the art blog drafts waiting for the Right Time(TM). watch this space as they say!

[ravenwitch45]

Imagine if Stella and Bayonetta met, and thanks to their personalities, they clash and this witch ends up on this demoness's shit list.

For the fun of it all, what words do you think are being spoken to each other here? What script would you write for them? (Well, apart from the whole 'Flock off, feather face'-schtick! 😖)

Part 1/4:

Part 2/4:

Part 3/4:

Part 4/4:

And if you want to up the ante further, what do you think would be Stolas's thoughts if he were observing this all?

(I mean, 'bread and circuses', am I right?)

Oh lord Bayonetta would drag Stella for filth like nobodie's buisness, I know Stella is pretty vicious herself but Bayonetta is a whole different beast, like "Punch you into oblivion for endangering her girlfriend's soul" vicious, speaking of Alarune, I could easily see Stella reminding Bayonetta of her, entitled, bitchy, talks way more trash then she should. Now being a bitch ain't gonna make Bayonetta murderous, but oh some shade to be thrown around so let's do this.

(PS I'm very sorry this took so long XP)

I could see this happening with a random run in, Bayonetta's strutting about (In her Bayo 1 outfit cause I fully believe she brings up her old looks up at times) Checking out this quaint little piece of the Inferno she discovered recently, Stella's on a shopping trip she happened to drag Stolas on, cause it's not like she's gonna carry those bags herself and they happen to walk by another, Bayonetta barely noticing the dysfunctional pair aside from Stolas's owl like qualities, Bayonetta a bit fond of owls considering Jeanne's owl within but she struts along, not intending to start a conversation.

Stella on the other hand, takes note of Bayonetta's very provacative skintight outfit, and since she judges everyone she feels entitled to speak it, "I must say it looks like your trying to impress someone" Stella says looking back as Stolas sighs, Bayonetta stopping in her tracks before gracefully turning on her heel, narrowing her eyes at the hen "You know, I believe in wearing what I please, and I hardly care what you think, and why should I? In that outfit, I don't think you have the right to judge others fashion choices."The witch states matter of factly after looking over Stella's gaudy dress and tiara, getting a fuming glare from the demoness

Stolas silently steps back as Stella goes off into a rant about her status, and how disrespectful it is to treat her like that, pointing her finger accusingly at Bayonetta as she approaches her, who just sighs, pulling out Scarborough Fair and firing a precise shot to shut Stella up, the bullet whizzing past her face and leaving a hole in her feathery hair, Stella too stunned to respond as Bayonetta walks up to her, getting in her face and saying "Flock Off Feather Face" before turning around once more intending to leave it there.

That is until Stella grabs the nearest thing that's not nailed down and throws it at her, Bayonetta of course turning back and dodging it, fully glaring at the actual attack this bitch just tried, kicking away another projecttile, Stolas trying to tell Stella to stop but she of course doesn't listen, not like she ever does, again berating the witch for the disrespect walking back up to her and trying to slap her before getting her hand slapped away with Scarborough Fair, which actually hurts making her look at the very pissed off witch who just sighs once again as Stella clutches her arm "What's that phrase again? Oh Right. "Fuck around and Find out" I'd say you take that toheart, if you have one, cause you do not want to find out how I get when I'm actually angry~"Bayonetta states with a smugly threatening tone, looking the demoness eye to eye as the Umbran Sigil flashes overs her's, Madama's Butterfly's laughter echoing and only Stella hearing it as her eyes go wide as she steps back a little in surprise and a bit of genuine fear.

Stammering and attempting another rant before she get's tongue tied and with a huff Stella storms off "Your going to regret this slight! Come along Stolas!"Stella demands only for Stolas to cross his arms as he drops her bags "I don't think I will, cause frankly this has been the most enjoyable part of my day."Stolas admits with a glare, only making Stella bite back a frustrated scream as she grabs the bags off the floor, glaring back at the two as she finally leaves, Stolas sighing as she does.

"I must apoligize for Stella, she believes she has the right to insult anyone, trust me..."Stolas says tiredly, Bayonetta approaching him in a much friendly way "Not your fault your... sister is such a bitch?"The witch states with a tone and raised brow to make it clear she's guessing "Wife actually, not willingly mind you, far from it" Stolas admits awkwardly, "Oh, well then I hope your in the process of divorcing her"The witch says bluntly making Stolas chuckle "Trust me I am. I must say it was nice to see someone stand up to her, not many do"

"Well I do suppose I have a habit of putting some entitled people in their place, it's enjoyable at times at least"Bayonetta jokes, earning another chuckle "Prince Stolas by the way, it's an pleasure to meet you Miss...?"The prince greets offfering his hand "Bayonetta, or Cereza, I go by both, take your pick"The Witch says, shaking his hand "I'll go with Cereza, quite a lovely name" And over all it ends up a pleasant encounter for these two, Stolas inviting her over for tea some time when ever Stella is away.

Also little bonus I thought up, if Stella sends Striker after Bayonetta, she just sees his blessed weapons and nearly falls over laughing, like she's gone toe to toe with the cardinal virtues and won, she'll be pratically insulted someone thinks some enchanted trinkets could bring her down XP

[thebeautifulfantastic]

Fanmix game! List three songs you associate with either your blorbo or your otp, then pass this on to three other people! If you have already answered this, feel free to ignore! (I went ham and sent this to a ton of people because I'm curious!)

oh FUN! i get to go though all my character playlists *rubs hands together in glee*

for Dana Scully:

'turn it off' by paramore

'final girl' by chvrches

'hercules' by sara bareilles

'something greater' by anna bates

'screaming' by chvrches

for Fox Mulder:

'life was easier when i only cared about me' by bad suns

'wow, i'm not crazy' by ajr

'i wanna get better' by bleachers

'chinese satellite' by phoebe bridgers

'angels' by owl city

for Mulder x Scully:

'formidable' by twenty one pilots

'stuck on the puzzle' by alex turner

'nothing else matters' by metallica

'partners in crime' by finneas

'the modern leper' by frightened rabbit

for Peter Parker:

'waiting on the world to change' by john mayer

'the kids aren't alright' by fall out boy

'mess is mine' by vance joy

'last young renegade' by all time low

'top of the world' by greek fire

for Peggy Carter:

'king of anything' by sara bareilles

'nobody' from the musical banstand

'exhale' by sabrina carpenter

'human' by christina perri

'the man' by taylor swift

for Peggy x Steve:

'shut up and dance' by walk the moon

'oblivion' by bastille

'hurts like hell' by fleurie

'sink' by noah kahan

'laughter lines' by bastille

for Kate Bishop:

'dreams and disasters' by owl city

'city of angels' by thirty seconds to mars

'dna' by lia marie johnson

'broken arrows' by avicii

'mirrorball' by taylor swift

[thisworldkills]

Fading into Oblivion

I’m fading away like pencil on old school paper. Nobody cares though, nobody sees though, and through all the broken records of memories I find myself still standing by myself though. 

It’s dark and I’m alone. Voices echo and groan lightly in a faint far away distance. I’m in another dimension.. Where you’re alive but not fully alive. You’re breathing but done believing that everything will turn out just fine. The one right before you actually do it. 

Gun kissing your mouth, rope hugging your neck, or knife traces your skin. You are numb limb to limb, your heart is heavy, and your eyes are weary. Brain won’t shut up, spinning and spinning like an over played pop song on the radio. You’re done with this life.

You have so much curiosity, how will my nephews grow up to be, I wish I could wait around and see. Though, every day gets harder to face reality. Harder to be a part of a community, cause your drowning but they just keep adding the weights. 

People trying to decide your fate, when you really don’t even know it yourself because you think it’s too late. 

Too late to get on better routines, too late to get that GED, and too late to start the life you’ve wished to have and be healthy. The world keeps on twirling and your thoughts keep on swirling, and you just keeping hurling yourself into oblivion. 

Don’t be like me, don’t let it get this deep. You see I said hi to all my demons now they insist on swallowing me.

~ written by Elliott James Smith

[painforcain]

Cain had no reason to think Raven would come. And yet, he'd found himself wishing he would. He imagined at least ten scenarios of how he'd burst through the door and - each scenario was different from that point. Cain entertained himself with Raven straight killing his playmate; or ordering him to leave so he could take his place. Or staying at the back of the room to watch. Or to pick him up and leave with him to take him back to the hotel or home to treat his wounds and demand an explanation. To end the night with cuddles and kisses and chatting about needs and understanding each other.

But none of these above happened.

Joey had given him a break. He would've lied if he said the situation didn't upset him; he couldn't possibly imagine what all of this would do to Cain. He couldn't even pinpoint what the ancient wanted at this point. He didn't want to be involved in this, but he had no other choice. He had to play his part.

As he had approached the ancient and he cracked his one good eye open, Joey hesitated for a second.

"You need to do harder than this", the ancient murmured, and Joey furrowed his brows, not snapping out of his role this time.

"Yeah?" He grabbed Cain's hair and pulled his head up from the ground.

He felt absolutely no resistance. It felt like Cain had given up entirely.

"Yeah", Cain replied, his voice breaking halfway in his throat. Tears of blood pooled in his eyes; out of frustration and sadness and betrayal. Joey, seeing that, obviously paused. "Much harder", Cain added, his voice shaking. He couldn't take this sort of pain, he'd rather focus on his body. Take it away, he prayed to no one, just take it, take it away... "Now- be worse-"

"Your wish is my command", the man growled, and he got right to work.

Joey somewhat understood Cain's motives, he just didn't know what was happening to him right now. But if pain could get him through the worst of it, he'd get it. He had been offered this job decades ago because of his build, and Cain wasn't his only customer. He had many regulars. And he had many ways of inflicting pain.

But whatever he did, Cain just begged for worse. Joey had chosen a whip that had little spikes in them, and flayed his back until his throat was raw. During the little break, Cain asked for worse. Joey took him to the cross that was drilled in one of the walls, and crucified him. Cain still asked for worse. At this point, Joey got frustrated as well. He dabbed a cloth in holy water and burned the ancient in several spots. Worse. He added more nails; made of silver to burn, to his thighs, lower and upper arms. Worse.

"Last chance to shut the fuck up", Joey held the last nail in his hand, placing the tip of it over Cain's heart.

He had several gloves on to protect himself, but it burned Cain just over it. The ancient swallowed. Dying seemed so good at this point, his disappointment and sorrow didn't leave him, no matter how much his body suffered. All this drama for a fucking dhampir. And absolutely nothing helped. It was tragic, really. Imagining that nail go through his heart and send him to float in Oblivion for a few hours felt delightful.

Nobody cared what state he was in anyway.

"Do it", Cain murmured tiredly. "Do it, do it, do it now..."

"You probably think about the fancy food you'll eat soon", Cain murmured as he rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm while Raven browsed the menu. Of course, Cain took him to a posh, first-class restaurant again... and the ancient found himself being mischievous once more. "While I'm sitting here on the other side of the table, imagining you fucking my throat~" | @painforcain

Raven slammed his hands on the table and bent over towards Cain. "Leave." he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"This place has the best truffles of the region, I'm not ending up in their black list after you throw a tantrum when I won't follow you in the restroom to throat-fuck you in five minutes from now." He took a break, his eyes fixed in Cain's.

"This date is over. I didn't get into my best Armani suit for this. Get.up.and.leave."

[exileoblivion]

-kicks the door open-

I’m in love with the goat man, and I don’t care what anyone says

[seat-safety-switch]

Here’s the thing they don’t show you in all those cool television shows about restoring vintage cars. All the cleaning. Sure, there’s a lot of sanding too, especially if you’re some kind of painting-enthusiast pervert. By and large, though, the majority of your time spent on a restoration will just be cleaning various things. Bodywork. Hinges. Connectors. Levers. That little crevice in the dashboard that somehow accumulates the entire world’s quantity of cat hair. A bracket that’s a “little ugly.”

Nobody can resist this. Even me, a person with shit-boxes which can barely shift into third gear, can easily while away an entire weekend into the pursuit of making a windshield wiper arm slightly less ugly. No matter how much we tell ourselves we don’t care about aesthetics, it’s hardwired into our species. Which is why I got ahold of some of those newfangled learning-machines, and trained a robot to tell me what to do. If I just narrowly followed the computer’s plan for how to restore the car, then I’d be done with, say, this Lincoln Versailles way ahead of time, and then I could dick around with cut polishes to my heart’s content.

Of course, it didn’t work out that way. The human spirit cannot be defeated. In fact, the more the computer shrieked at me that I was deviating from The Project Schedule, the more I wanted to procrastinate and take my time. Have you ever spent over four hours taking a boar-hair brush to the gap between the driver’s door and the wing mirror? There’s nothing more relaxing, especially when a robot is going into four-alarm meltdown, threatening you and your entire species with oblivion if you don’t drop that shit right now and start replacing the kickdown cable, tout suite.

Eventually, there was a thunderstorm, and the computer shut off with a loud sizzle and pop. Coincidentally, the local military base had some kind of intrusion into its systems at around that time, and a nuclear launch was ordered. Very scary stuff. Luckily for all of us, the guy working the silo at that very moment was busy trying to clean up his desk, and never even noticed the request. Chalk another one up for productive procrastination.

[444tsumu]

title Not His Type

rating ★ ★ ☆ nsfw content

word count 4,800+

warnings timeskip!mattsun, yes i’m writing that he still practices w the s4, anyways explicit content, matsukawa calls you a bitch, spitting, rough sex, spanking, mattsun fucks you in his car, oral sex (f!reader giving), don't be silly wrap your willy folks

author’s note thanks to @kansroji for forcing me encouraging me to write this self-indulgent mattsun fic, send her her flowers everyone bc this was just muah :*

summary Issei teaches you that the meaning behind the words ‘I hate you’ is a lot different from what you’re used to.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“How could someone be such a bitch?”

“I don’t know Mattsun, you tell me.”

There are two things necessary to keep the world spinning on its axis: inertia, and the insatiable hatred between you and Issei Matsukawa.

No one quite knows where it came from. Maybe it was your lack of regard for his permanently disinterested personality, or maybe it was the insufferable habit you had of making a comment every time Matsukawa did as much as make a noise— whatever it was, it was a never ending cycle of pure repugnance.

His tone was light, yet knowing Iwaizumi, you knew it was wavering on a more strict tone you really didn’t want to hear today.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

To you and Issei, the nature of your relationship was that there wasn’t one at all. There was nothing but an indescribable hatred that will never go away because you guys just physically can’t stand the other.

To everyone else though? In Hanamaki’s words, “you guys just needed to fuck and get it over with already.” Sexual tension couldn’t fill half of the void the storm you and Mattsun left after every exchanged word. It nearly swallowed the room, the only two not able to see it being yourself and the middle blocker.

With an inquisitive look on his face, Oikawa decided the only way to get rid of this long lasting rivalry being now or never. “My dear Y/L/N, bad news.”

The words brought you back down to Earth, making you bite down a glare at the bored man in front of you and turning towards the setter.

“As much as I’d love to be the one to take you home,” he winks at you, long arm reaching out to lightly press itself against your cheek and you already see where this is going, “I just can’t—”

“Tooru..” Your voice wavered the same way Iwaizumi infamously did.

“Seriously Y/N-Chan, I hate being the bearer of bad news..” The sparkle in his eyes made you clench your jaw to prevent the scream from slipping through your lips. “But I had almost promised Iwa-chan and Makki a ride today.”

You could hear the slick in his voice, and you absolutely hated it. You hated how you knew exactly what was being planned. You knew in Oikawa’s stupid little head, he was formulating a stupid little plan thinking things would work out in his own stupid little way.

“I’m not getting into that fucking asshole’s car—”

“Oikawa I will purposely crash if she as much as steps foot in my car—”

“Get your fucking feet off my dashboard.” You hear his voice growl, long fingers reaching in front of him to press the Start-Stop button on his car and get the engine running.

You didn’t mean to press a sock-covered foot onto it, it’s just that you needed to adjust the anklet resting against your skin. You hadn’t caught when his eyes glanced over at the diamonds either, remaining for a second too long to be appropriate and quickly force it’s way in front of him.

With a slightly exaggerated roll of your eyes, you threw your head against the headrest and stared through the window to your side. You were wishing there was an awkward silence to torture Matsukawa’s ears, but instead, his phone automatically connected to its Bluetooth and began to play a song you surprisingly recognized.

He drove faster than you were sure he was supposed to. As soon as you blinked, he had already backed out of Seijoh’s parking lot and sped through the secluded roads and towards the city you inhabited.

Unwillingly, of course, you managed to steal a few glances at the brown-haired man next to you. His face was (surprise) as uninterested as ever, eyebrows resting dully above his hooded lids and lips turned just slightly down enough to look like a frown. Every now and then, his lips would go along with the song and his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip and into the corner of his cheek.

Matsukawa wasn’t an ugly guy. There wasn’t enough hatred in your soul to even try to lie against the idea. He was extremely tall, extremely fit, had a nice smile, and his voice matched his looks. If he wasn’t such a stuck up, emotionless asshole, he’d probably be one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen. If and probably, of course.

“Gotta staring problem?” He muttered, head bobbing to the song in the background and that in itself just brought your cholesterol an unhealthy amount higher.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I see you have a lack of vocabulary too..” The banter between the two of you went back and forth, an awkward silence retching the car’s air after he sadly had the last word.

“I can’t believe there was a time you weren’t such a nuisance.” You nearly mouthed, words quiet enough to get lost within the lyrics of Kanye West, yet loud enough to get into Mattsun’s earshot and cause the car to abruptly park on the side of the nearly secluded road ahead of you.

“Hey, what the fu—”

“What’s your problem with me?” Matsukawa’s words haunted the air, and if you weren’t already awaiting his words, you might have actually been scared of the harshness in his tone.

“Me?” You questioned, using a hand to dramatically smack against your chest and glare at him in disbelief. “What’s your problem with me?”

He didn’t respond, only staring at you blankly and gripping on the steering wheel with enough aggression to taint the knuckles of his large hands white.

“Stop acting like a toddler,” the annoyance looked weird on him, and his usual nonchalant attitude disappeared with a mask of pure frustration that you’d be lying about if you said was ugly on him, “just tell me what the issue is so we can both stop whatever the fuck it is we have going on.”

“We,” you pointed between the two of you, “do not have anything going on, for your information.” You stubbornly crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him blankly and watching his large hand run across his face.

“You wouldn’t even be my type, you know damn well that isn’t what—”

Every word after the first half of the sentence drowned out as you continued to repeat it in your head. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type…

“Earth to Y/N.” Mattsun snapped, glaring over at you and leaning his body back lazily against his driver’s seat. It was slightly reclined back, the comfortability of his position insinuating he didn’t plan on leaving until this conversation got somewhere.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t be your type?”

The words came out faster than you could acknowledge them. You didn’t regret speaking them, but you knew that they only worsened your situation. He would use this as if it was fuel to his never-ending out of fire of an ego and you hated it. The cold air in the car suddenly became more noticeable, goosebumps raising onto your exposed skin and making you feel as if all your senses were being ambushed.

“Well, well, well…” He begins to tease as if he was never angry, his large arms resting behind his head and that stupid smirk back onto his pink lips, “you feel some type of way about what I said?” His voice echoed into your ears as you did nothing but watch him in disbelief.

“You never stood a chance with me anyways.” You bit back at him.

Something in the air changed, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it. It was dark, the light from the dashboard doing nothing but illuminating your features and making Issei smirk to himself in the lack of lighting.

“How so?” He was antagonizing you, itching for you to continue to play his little game back with him because he had a plan. You could see it from the way he lazily blinked over at you, smirk still against his glowing face with nothing but arrogance and faux oblivion.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me if you tried.”

Those words changed the aura within the car all in itself. You knew the double entendres of a statement could go any way with him. Deep down, you both knew exactly what you meant. Your words remained solid though, eyes staring at him like a fox refusing to glance away from his brown irises.

“Wanna try me?”

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. Something about you didn’t care though. There were many ways this conversation could’ve went, but you wouldn’t expect it to go in this direction.

The air in the room was thick, Issei’s brown irises watching you nothing short of predator like. No one spoke after those three words, and faintly, the change in mood also affected the change in genre of music as R&B began to slowly play through his speakers. You wanted to scoff.

His large ring covered hand suddenly inched towards your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your eyesight on his own face. You weren’t one to blush, but the roughness to his calloused fingers brought a small tinge between your slightly exposed thighs.

“You gonna get in the back or I gotta force you back there?” His words commanded you, the strictness laced within the confines of his voice leaving you no option to do as he told.

Doing what Matsukawa said as if you were following his orders was something foreign to you. The temptation of doing as you pleased crossed the back of your mind, but the curiosity of seeing what he had in store filled you with much more satisfaction.

Without a word and instead settling for a simple eye roll, you kicked your shoes off and found your way between the two front seats and into the cold leather seats of the back of his car. It was cramped, surprisingly cleaner than you'd imagine, and smelt of nothing but Issei.

You would have enjoyed it if the circumstances were different.

Your body sat with your feet resting behind you, leaving a space open for him. The sound of his car door opening and shutting was the cause of the goosebumps rising against your skin.

Subconsciously, you knew were supposed to hate him. You were supposed to despise him for always being such an asshole to you, and you were never supposed to forgive him for anything he’s ever said to you out of his stupid smirking mouth.

You weren't supposed to be hopping into the backseat of his car after challenging him into sleeping with you. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying the feeling of his presence as it finally found its way next to you, the dark tints of his windows hiding his expression but not doing a good job at hiding the bulge hiding in the confinements of his sweatpants.

Your eyes glanced over his, quickly switching between the tent and his irises with an innocent smile on your face. “You gonna take those off or am I gonna have to force them off you?’

Mattsun had never laughed at anything you’d ever said. At least, never to your face. For the first time though, a soft chuckle left his lips as he hunched his body over and rolled his sweats down. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to provoke that sound out of him again.

He wore Supreme black briefs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes trail over to the excessively large print. His dick was long, curving deliciously to the left and making you fear for your own safety. The thought of that nearly made you drool.

Mattsun made a show of pulling his briefs down, his erection springing to life and showing you that he wasn't even fully hard yet. Maybe you would’ve felt some type of way about not arousing him as much as he was you, and you could thank the pool inside your panties for that, but something about it brought a glimmer to your eye Issei couldn’t ignore.

“Eager to suck my dick, huh?” His words ring against your ears, and you do nothing but give him a glare while getting on all fours across the backseat.

His long torso leaned against the car door, eyes boring onto your frame with a blank expression that drove you insane. You knew this was all an act, he had to have been pretending just to get a rise out of you. There was no way you could’ve missed the way his dick twitched when you got up to take your shorts off.

Your frame was left in a white t-shirt and a seamless green pair of panties known for their cheekster style. He would’ve told you that you looked absolutely delectable, but he'd never let you sit within that satisfaction.

You lowered yourself on all fours once again, holding your hair back with one hand and lowering yourself down between his long limbs. Your eyes just couldn't look away, the large veins running up and down his perfect looking length in a way that made you embarrassingly ready to shove it down your throat already.

And without another word, you opened your lips and allowed a trail of saliva to sliver down the underside of his dick. His thighs tensed up, but as you watched him through your lashes while lowering your lips onto his tip, his bored and expressionless face remained the same.

He couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him, as much as he'd hate to admit it. Your ass was up in the air, back arched in a way that nearly made him release a groan as your pretty little mouth left sloppy kisses along his throbbing tip. You used a free hand to run down his cock slowly, hands landing underneath his thick balls and holding them alongside the bottom half of his dick.

He tried to hold the hiss you took out of him, but you used that as an excuse to make him suffer even more. Almost as if it were a competition, you sucked your cheeks in while taking the rest him that fit into your mouth agonizingly slow.

Matsukawa was too big, not that you were complaining. You didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but his size goes beyond that. So in order to accommodate to the situation at hand, you lolled your tongue out across your bottom lip and easily slipped a bit more than half of him down your throat until he felt his tip tickle the back of it.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out, words stopping as he bit his lip and tilted his head to get a better look at you.

Your eyes began to water, but you ignored the sensation to take a deep breath as you began to massage his balls and lower half with your saliva covered hands. You began to move your mouth in the opposite direction of your hands, touching just enough of his balls with your tongue to get him to grip a chunk of your hair from within your own hand.

“Fuck, just like that.” You never took your eyes off him, and Matsukawa found it even harder to control himself with the way you took so much of him with so much ease.

You hollowed your cheeks as you slipped his now fully-hard dick out your mouth. Trails of saliva followed, the explicit view of your teary eyes and sloppy lips making him groan within his throat.

“Fuck my throat.”

The words were harsh, your expression being just as blank as his once was, and Issei realized he wasn’t really the one in control here. Not if all it took was for you to tell him what to do and he was scrambling to do it like second nature.

His lips revealed that lazy smirk you wanted to fuck off his face, the large hand gripping your hair nearly shoving his dick back into your fresh, wet mouth. “Don’t mind if I do, princess.”

The nickname he called you didn't even have time to register in your mind, the sensation of Matsukawa forcing your head up and down his dick as much as he could being the only thing on your brain. You couldn't help the tears from slipping down your cheeks, eyes opening once again to hazily look over to the ones burning a hole into your face.

Matsukawa couldn’t find it in himself to look away from you. He wasn't sure if it was the tears, or the way you allowed him to fuck your throat so easily, or the drool leaking down into the balls you fondled at the same time, or even the way the hand once gripping your own hair found its way between your legs as he watched you play with yourself, but Issei decided this image was going to ruin everyone else for him.

He already decided he couldn't get enough of you. The sound of your gags filled with car in a nearly pornographic way, yet not once did you ask him to stop and he took note of that. 

“Fuck,” he broke out, eyes struggling to watch yours as his lips parted open, “you’re gonna make me cum,” his words were interrupted by a load groan. Your tongue found its way back onto his balls as his tip rammed into the back of your throat and Issei felt his toes curl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..”

Right on time, you went against his strong grip and popped his dick out of your mouth with saliva drooling down in a way that looked so forbidden, Issei was sure he would’ve came at that sight alone.

“That was...”

“Not your type?” You bit at him, a mocking smile on your lips as you bit your lip and found your way onto the comfort of his lap.

It was weird, the way you felt like you fit perfectly within his frame as if it was a piece of a puzzle. Matsukawa would agree if he could, hands nearly instinctively finding its way onto the globed of your ass and pulling the fabric of your panties over and over again.

“Never in a million years.”

His smirk haunted you, lidded eyes staring at you once again and you realize Issei Matsukawa is a really hard guy to get a reaction out of. So taking the challenge yet again, you stared at him just as emotionless. Your fingers lifted the patch stuck to your folds, and the trail of wetness that dripped over onto both you and his own thighs was nearly sinful to the sore eyes.

It was hard to imagine taking a dick you were sure you could see in your stomach with such an expression, and you wouldn’t wish that suffering on your worst enemy. You couldn’t believe how much just half of him stretched your insides out, your walls sucking him in and barely being able to hold it in together.

“Don't worry, take your time.” Matsukawa’s tone was beyond condescending, the taunt behind his words bringing an anger within you enough to cloud your mind of all common sense. It was unexpected, the way your body just shoved the rest of him inside of your tight, pulsating hole and rested all your body weight on top of him.

“Fuck!” Both of you yelped out, your hands clawing at his chest while his gripped your ass cheeks apart in nothing but a burning sensation.

He filled you up to the brim, the sureness of him hitting your cervix causing your eyes to flutter at the feeling. You bit your lip, adjusting your body to where your feet were on either side of him on the backseat and your body was more able to move.

His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, the sound of both of your pants alongside the music that was long forgotten struggling to keep you attentive. Without warning, you lifted your body up and slammed back down onto him. The action brought a pretty little gasp out your lips, mouth parted and eyes clenched at just how fucking amazing the curve and thickness of his cock was.

“C’mon baby,” he whispered into your ears, hands reaching over to intertwine themselves with your own so you got better balance, “fuck me like you mean it.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You breathed out, beginning to bounce your body up and down his dick perfect enough to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness after every impact. Issei groaned, eyes glued to the sight of where your pussy swallowed him whole and spit him back out over and over again.

“Mm, what else baby?”

Issei’s bored resolve started to crack, groans slipping through his lips in a way that made you tighten up against him even more if it were possible. Your hands gripped his intertwined ones, bouncing up and down faster than you could probably handle. The sensation of his dick hitting your cervix over and over causing you to arch your back closer into his body as you bounced.

The sound of your body slamming into his began to quicken, the strength of your legs giving up as you realized his started to fuck you back from the bottom and drill his length into you.

“Fuck, Issei…” You moaned out embarrassingly loud, Mattsun’s eyes watching you with curiosity in his irises from the way he wanted to figure out how to get you to moan out like that again.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teased, the strain in his voice telling you that even if he was torturing you with the pounding of his dick, he was enjoying it just as much as you, “where’d all that mouth go, pretty?”

You felt yourself clench at the nickname, head leaning back and leaving your neck open for him to lick a trail over towards your jaw and softly bite the plush skin. The windows began to fog up, the sensation of your poor pussy taking him in and out and quick pace causing the car to jump up and down with each stroke.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out, nearly crying out when his hands found it’s way towards under your ass to support you as he drilled all of this thickness into your throbbing pussy.

The familiar knot began to grow within your stomach, and your hand found it’s way between his messy locks only to grab it and tilt his head roughly back against the window. A surprised groan left his lips, eyes staring up at you widely with a smirk endured from straight pleasure shot up his lips.

“You gonna cum all on daddy’s dick?”

Usually the words would have made you cringe, and you wanted to bite a snarky remark at him for the name. Yet something in you grew feral at the sentence, beginning to rub your clit against him each time you harshly dropped down as you roughened your grip on his hair.

“Fuck yes, daddy, make me cum,” your words tickled his ears, the moans at the end of each word bringing Matsukawa into a state of euphoria. He could hear you say that to him for the rest of his life, if he could.

“Come on baby,” he groaned out harshly, smacking your ass enough to leave a sting that made you cry out into his neck, “give it to me!”

His words echoed in your ears, your loud cries like music to his ears as he watched you fuck him back just as rough as he was being with you. Your hand pulled his head back once again, his scalp hitting the window harshly but he didn’t care once your lips came crashing onto his.

It was nothing but teeth and tongue, sucking on each other’s muscles and making out as if nothing in this world could ever be right again without it. His hands gripped your ass once again, spreading them harshly apart and spanking them with as much toughness that went into spiking a volleyball.

You screamed into his mouth, words being unable to come out as he began to drill into you even rougher and faster than you knew was possible. Your legs had long given out at this point, simply being tossed up and down like a rag doll by Issei’s strong arms and cocky attitude. You were in heaven, even if you’d never admit it.

“I— I hate you,” you fought to yelp out, pussy beginning to squeeze at the feeling you knew all too well as you stared into his eyes and made him look at you as if he was seeing God, “but you fuck me— fuck, you fuck me so good..”

Your words became faint whispers, stars beginning to formulate instead of his once brown irises and bring you into a state of euphoria.

“Daddy I’m gonna—” The words were stolen from your lips as Matsukawa slammed your lips against his own and gripped your back close to his chest.

“Cum baby,” he groaned into your lips, your own sounds preventing you from being able to kiss him back as your covered tits bounced into the confinement of his chest, “cum on daddy’s big dick.”

The words brought a vibration within you, a mantra of the words daddy and please slipping as you felt the euphoria take over your body and leave you with nearly nothing inside you. Issei could practically feel you cum, his own resolve giving out as his shot his thick cum into your throbbing pussy and bringing another scream from between your swollen lips.

“Take it, good girl— fuck yes..” Words slipped from his mouth without his own permission, the sensation of your pussy holding him within you as if it never wanted to let him go and he really wouldn’t mind.

Nothing but your struggles to catch your own breath filled the car, his own haunting the ghost of your ear as you laid out across his chest with saliva threatening to slip from your lips and cum leaking down both of your thighs. It was absolutely disgusting if you really thought about it, but the idea of knowing you had just slutted each other out so sinfully brought your toes to curl one last time.

No one said a word, and as much as you wanted to comment on how he was still gripping your chest against his own, you decided to go against it and try to find reality from the solitude of his wide chest. You could hear Brent Faiyaz on the radio, the view of just how foggy the windows were making you giggle to yourself.

“What’s funny?” The rumble of the words against his chest caused your pussy to throb once again, and you had almost forgotten he was still lodged inside of you with a load of cum threatening to spill out.

“Nothing.” Your voice was gone, and as embarrassing as it was, Issei mentally found himself obsessing over how raspy it got.

The silence was calm, yet the awkward conversation of what next lingered within the air between the two of you. You knew it was going to come soon, and you weren’t really sure of what could possibly happen afterwards. There was no going back from this, Issei Matsukawa had fucked you so good, you never wanted to fuck anyone else again.

The first to break it was Mattsun, which took you by surprise. His large hands found their way towards you cheek, caressing your head as his pushed you back far enough to face him with fucked out eyes and swollen lips and Issei convinces himself you’re one of the seven wonders of the world.

“We should do that again sometime.” He suggests, bored eyes staring into yours as you noticed the small smile lifting amongst the corner of his lips. You wanted to smile back, but the idea of having some more fun with him seemed quite better.

“Eh,” you replied, lifting your weakened body back into his straddling state and biting your lips as you placed both hands across his broad chest. You notice the way his cock twitches hungrily within you, and you realize you were gonna enjoy this a bit too much.

He’s seeing stars, thinking the hottest thing he’s ever seen is a fucked out you staring at him this way and you realize you’ve finally won. You stare at him, bored eyes and a lazy smirk on your lips mimicking the face he spent all his life mastering.

“You’re not really my type.”

                             © 444TSUMU 2021

[elysianslove]

oblivion; fushiguro megumi & itadori yuuji

requested by anon; ❝ OMG HIII! I love love love your fics🤧🤧 I read about the poly and sub yuuji thing, AND i thought, what if they teased him to no end the night before thinking it was a day off, but then an emergency mission happened and he went there. Imagine him trying to fight off curses while having a limp and being sore all over jssjsjjsjsjsjsjs IDK BUT I THOUGH OF THIS HAHAHA ANYWAY DRINK LOTS OF WATER, SLEEP, AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF MWAH😚💕💕 ❞

pairings; fushiguro megumi x fem!reader x itadori yuuji

genre; smut, a little humor ig? 

warnings; oh lord — light bdsm, mentioned use of sex toys, nipple play, pleasure from pain, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, handjobs, oral (male!receiving), use of traffic light system, dirty talk, humiliation, praise, dumbification, i hope i didn’t miss anything!

note; thank you so much for your words that’s so kind of you!! and i hope you’re taking care of yourself too, and that you enjoy this!!! <333 i’m really sorry with how late this was though oh my god :(�� <b>yuuji and megumi are both aged up here, and there is full consent to all the plays! smut is under the cut! 

not this being over 4.5k words 😃✋🏼

━━  he’s a burning presence beneath you. yuuji’s alive as ever as your straddle him, his heart racing and chest heaving as he sloppily kisses you, mouth wide and languidly pushing against yours. drool and spit spills from between your connected lips while you lightly cup his jaw, and when you pull back, a single line of spit connects you two. 

grinning down at him, your fingers trail featherlight across his cheek. “so gorgeous for me, yu,” you coo, and he sighs dreamily, eyes half lidded. 

he’s not just trapped beneath you, he’s completely bound. there’s a collar around his throat, with multiple hooks in it, the one at the bottom of his nape linked with a chain to the bed’s headboard. similarly, his hands are handcuffed behind him, chained tightly to the headboard and restricting his movements entirely. but it’s not like he’d try to move. when he’s like this, he’s so obedient.

 “already going under?”

it’s not you that speaks this time, but yuuji’s gaze remains on yours as if it were, eyes fluttering and head tilting to lean into your touch as you cup his cheek, almost like a puppy. next to you, the bed dips, and your other boyfriend leans closer. you shift a little to reveal yuuji to him, angling your face to gauge his reaction. 

megumi smiles, sweetly.

sighing lovingly, he reaches up to brush at yuuji’s hair. “you look so pretty,” he praises, and again, yuuji relaxes at the words. 

“see?” you affirm. “told ya.” 

you poke his nose lightly, and the pink haired boy hums a chuckle sinking deeper into the mattress. you hum appreciatively, settling more comfortably in his lap, rocking your hips. you feel him shiver beneath you, and the bulge of his cock nudges at your clothed cunt. at the first feel of his cock hardening, you smile teasingly, hips sinking harsher against his as you tilt your head to glance at megumi. 

“he’s so eager,” you tell him, touch ghosting along yuuji’s shoulders, to his collarbones, to his chest, nails lightly grazing his nipples before dipping down to his abs. 

as you do so, megumi’s hand leaves yuuji’s hair and rises to cup your chin, gripping it lightly as he draws you closer. “is he now?” he wonders, but it’s more rhetorical than anything, and soon enough his mouth finds yours. 

your lips are still wet and swollen from kissing yuuji, and megumi pulls back for a second, licking his lips before diving back to kiss you again. kissing megumi is so much more different than kissing yuuji. yuuji’s so much more enthusiastic, over-energetic, overwhelmingly passionate, even if you’re the one in control — maybe even especially. you’re the one leading the two of you, you’re the one kissing him. with megumi, it’s the complete opposite. he’s softer, gentler, but more dominant, and even when he’s the one beneath you, even if you’re completely in control, he’ll still hold the reigns, because kissing megumi overdoses your brain with dopamine. it floods and overflows and has you sighing and leaning into him. 

with a satisfied moan, megumi pulls back, pleased with the way you lean forward as if not having expected it. body flushed from kissing both of your boys, you turn back to yuuji, finding his mouth gaping and eyes wide and pleading. and when you settle deep on his lap again, you find he’s fully hard. it livens you up considerably. 

“please,” yuuji whispers, his biceps flexing as he resists pulling from the bindings. 

focused on yuuji, you don’t notice megumi slipping from next to you, to behind you. lifting a hand to his mouth, you thumb at yuuji’s lips, brushing across them, pleased with how wet they still are from your mixed spit. “please, what, gorgeous?”

yuuji shuts his mouth, whines behind tight lips, before he tosses his head back, sighing, “please fuck me.” 

you hum a giggle, lifting up your hips before lowering them again, grinding across his lap, your cunt soaking through your panties, dampening his boxers. he’s already doing enough of that with the precum he’s leaking, though. as you continue to tease him, megumi’s hands find your waist, before they trail up your back, finding the hook of your bra. 

all the while, you don’t stop grinding down on yuuji, and he can’t stop mewling and whining. his chest heaves as he gasps, unable to stop his hips from instinctively rutting and thrusting up, trying to increase the friction, trying to speed up your movements, trying to break through the barrier between you in any way. 

yuuji’s obedient, of course, but sometimes, he’s a little too eager for his own good. 

a hand settling on his hip, right by the hem of his boxers, you tut, slowing down your movements till it feels like you’re not moving at all. “you know better than that,” you scold. “don’t you, gorgeous?” 

he huffs, whines, forcing his hips back down on the bed as megumi slips the straps of your bra off your shoulders slowly, sensually. you let it fall on your lap, on yuuji’s lap, before you toss it carelessly aside, welcoming megumi’s lips along your shoulder and on your neck. 

“you know,” you start, “i don’t think i’ll fuck you.” you almost laugh at the way his eyes widen up at you. 

in between kisses, megumi sighs teasingly. “you’re so mean,” he sarcastically says, kissing at your jaw as his arms circle you, hands caressing all over body. at his ministrations, you lean back into him, letting him feel you up: he squeezes at your breasts, tugs at your nipples, nips with his teeth at your neck, until his hands finally dip lower. 

you’re a little breathless as you respond, grinning devilishly at yuuji as megumi’s fingers finally slip past your underwear. “he likes me mean.” 

when megumi’s fingers find your dripping cunt, yuuji moans with you. he can barely feel the brush of the darker haired boy’s fingers through your panties and his boxers, because he’s so hyperaware of everything that he really has no choice to notice it. and you know this, you can tell. of course you can — there’s nobody that knows him better than you.

your hips rise as megumi’s fingers circle your clit, before dipping between your folds to soak his fingers with your slick, brushing against your entrance, before trailing back up to your clit. beneath you, yuuji trembles with his attempt to stay still and unmoving, eyes wide and pupils blown as he watches megumi pleasure you, all while on his lap. megumi’s fingers tease and rub, until finally, when you whine softly and lift your hips to meet his hands, he dips them inside of you, eased by how soaked you are. 

“she feels so good,” megumi gasps, lips hovering by your neck as he gazes at yuuji through half lidded eyes. “she’s tight too. bet she’d feel so good around a cock, hm?” 

yuuji’s breath hitches at megumi’s words, and he shuts his eyes tightly, head bowing in as he tries to steady and ground himself. you feel his cock twitch helplessly beneath you, and your moans dissolve into a small sigh, feeling as megumi speeds up his fingers slightly and curls them within you. 

behind you, he tuts disapprovingly, catching yuuji’s attention. “watch,” he simply commands, and it’s so adorable how yuuji listens so well, so easily, so quickly. his eyes burn into your figure, tracing your curves, the arch of your back, the way your nipples stand hard and perky, megumi’s fingers disappearing inside of you. he seems to decide to focus on that, watching with wide eyes as megumi fucks you with his fingers, sloppy and messy as your hips rise and fall and grind. mouth drying, yuuji shuts momentarily, gulping and licking his lips, while megumi’s thumb settles on your clit. 

“hngh, fuck,” you gasp, hand lowering to grasp at megumi’s wrist. he sighs against you, his breath hot on your skin, the room growing warmer and warmer by the second as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. “gonna cum, ugh, fuck.” 

by now, your moans are so shamelessly loud, music to yuuji’s ears. he’s panting with you, mesmerized by the way you react to megumi fingering you. with the latter focused on you, and you lost to your near orgasmic bliss, he manages to roll his hips slightly, upwards, barely brushing against your dripping cunt and megumi’s fingers. 

“yes, yes, cum,” megumi whispers, teeth sinking into your skin, lips sucking hotly. “make a mess of yuuji, leave him filthy and drenched in your cum.” 

yuuji chokes at his words, his thighs tensing as he fists his hands tightly. he rocks his hips up faster, desperate for any type of friction, any sort of stimulation. and he realizes then and there that he’s thankful you hadn’t stripped him bare yet, because this would be a lot worse if he didn’t have his tight boxers pressing around his dick right now.

 you’re breathlessly gasping, megumi’s thumb rubbing harshly and quickly on your clit. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, mouth falling open as your body seizes up, and finally, finally, you tip over the edge, legs shaking and spasming on either side of yuuji as you fall forward, head resting on yuuji’s shoulders. megumi’s fingers are still curled inside of you, thumb pressing against your clit, but when he pulls away, you don’t whine from the loss, you simply sigh, grinding down on yuuji. 

his boxers are now completely soaked, sticky with your cum and—

“oh my god, you came,” you gasp, chest still heaving a little, and looking between you and yuuji, staring down at his lap. your fingers reach for the hem of his boxers, pulling and peeling it off, peering inside. “you really came.” you sound a little shocked, amused, but worse of all, as if you were trying to humiliate him. it only makes his cock twitch. past the clothing barrier you see it: his cock is messy, covered in and smeared with cum, the tip pink and wet. and still, after an orgasm, it’s still fat and hard and veiny, desperate and dripping. it makes you laugh as you begin to slide off his lap, his whine so pretty, and as you take his boxers with you. he obediently lifts at his hips to allow you to pull them away, and his cock springs up, slapping against his stomach. this is your favorite part when it’s yuuji’s turn to be played with— he’s always got so much in him, so much to give. 

you giggle again as you lower yourself onto your stomach, leaning on your elbows, coming face to face with his cock. 

“’m sorry,” yuuji stutters, shuddering as he feels your fingers accidentally brush against his inner thigh. 

“s’okay!” you reassure him. “was planning on getting you to cum for me anyways. it’s fine if you got an early start.” he sighs, in relief, and then intakes a sharp breath as you shuffle closer to him. instinctively, his legs spread for you, and, now close enough, you nudge at his dick with the tip of your nose, humming out another giggle. “besides, s’not like we got anything to do for tomorrow. right, ‘gumi?” 

the glint in megumi’s eye when yuuji looks up is too mischievous for his own liking, but he’s too far gone to even think straight, just nodding dumbly when megumi confirms, “yeah, baby.”

“please,” yuuji mewls out again, vaguely, and megumi sighs, leaning forward to ruffle at yuuji’s hair. you watch the interaction with endearment. 

“gotta use your big boy words, yu,” he reminds him, tone stern. 

your boyfriend nods, as if there really is no other thought that getting fucked stupid in his brain, and adds, “please, i wanna feel good. only you—” his gaze falls to you, “—only you—” he’s heaving at his inability to manage out any words, and it’s so cute, you pull yourself closer to him, almost out of pity. you lift yourself up, one arm now resting on his thigh, the other hand reaching out to grasp at his dick. 

at the first feel of your hand wrapped around him, yuuji gasps, legs bending at the knees in shock. your strokes start slow, careful, languid, and it eases him, allows him to settle and calm down. the shackles behind him are loud as they clash as he tenses, using all his self control and will not to buck up into you. 

“yuuji,” megumi calls out for him. yuuji’s in a daze, and he blinks, megumi’s voice sounding too far away despite being right by him. it almost feels as if he’s sinking underwater. your hand around him tightens, and you lean forward, lips wrapping around the tip of his cock, and he shivers, whining. “yuuji,” megumi repeats, more sternly. his head falls back and lolls to the side, meeting megumi’s eyes. “color?”

it comes all too quick for him. “green,” he says, surely. “green, green, ugh, fuck— don’t stop, m’green.” 

you release him from your mouth, kitten licking at the slit as you laugh. “i don’t plan on stopping. not for a long while,” you tell him, as a warning, drawling out the long. he doesn’t seem to hear it. oh well. 

wrapping your lips around the head again, you suck, your hand otherwise stimulating the rest of his cock. he’s needed no lube nor no spit, already wet from his smeared cum. you can taste it on your tongue as your jaw stretches to take more of him, and the feel of him, heavy on your tongue, stretching your lips wide, your mouth stuffed with more and more of him, feels just too good that you can’t help the loud moan that tumbles out, vibrating along his dick. 

he cries out a broken yell, his hips unintentionally bucking up. it’s okay though, you want him to. it’s all part of what you want to reduce him to. 

as his cock is finally fully in your mouth, you finally feel it. the nudge of megumi’s cock against your cunt. you can feel him rubbing it along your pussy lips, smearing and mixing his precum with your arousal. god, if you’d only discovered just how messy megumi likes it earlier on. in response to him, you moan again around yuuji’s dick, legs spreading for megumi. 

“good girl,” you hear him whisper, and it almost feels like you’re in yuuji’s place. one of megumi’s hands reaches out to grope your ass, spreading you even more for him, the other guiding him inside of you. it’s incomparable to his fingers. although yuuji’s cock is much thicker, megumi’s is long and pretty, and you know this, you can feel it with how he sinks deeper, and deeper, and deeper inside of you. it feels unbelievably good to be stuffed with two cocks from either end, especially when megumi starts to move. 

he thrusts slowly, pulling out leisurely, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein along his cock as he shifts until barely the tip rests in your pussy, before pushing the head in, filling you up all over again. both his hands now rest on your ass, spreading you and kneading, massaging, at the flesh. while he fucks you, you slurp and suck on yuuji’s cock, cheeks hollowing out and hand messy and wet. above you, yuuji’s completely losing all inhibitions. he tries to fall forward, to curve and lean into you, to stuff your throat with more of his cock, but he restraints stop him. the collar tightens on his airway when he leans too forward, his arms straining and muscles aching, bulging and tensing. 

you hum appreciatively as megumi’s thrusts speed up, one of your hands reaching out to fondle and squeeze at yuuji’s heavy, tight balls while you deepthroat him. 

“hah, haah, fu— mhm— fuck.” yuuji’s a mess as you draw him closer and closer to his orgasm, all too quickly for his liking. it feels like you’re rushing it, but he can’t exactly complain, not when it feels this good. his abs tense and roll as he arches his back, throwing his head back and crying out, eyes squeezing shut. he gasps and cries and borderline sobs, legs bending at the knees again as you swallow around him and suck harshly. 

all this, combined with the rocking of your body, the creaking of the bed as megumi fucks you, and your small, tiny gasps and moans that you manage to let out with your face stuffed, quickly send him over, and he sucks in a breath sharply, his cock twitching and bobbing in your mouth as he spills down your throat. you accept it all gratefully, swallowing and trying not to gag and cough up his cum as he spills and spills and spills. god, he still has so much to give? it’s amazing. 

when you pull off of him, your head falls forward, your body now more freely rocking with the force of megumi’s thrusts. yuuji watches in fear as his cock, messy with your spit and wet, leftover cum, twitches against his at the sight of you. he’s gonna get hard again, he’s sure. it’s embarrassing, how easily aroused he is because of you. you’re gasping and panting as megumi fucks into you, his thrusts now sloppier and less practiced. he’s close, yuuji’s sure. of course he is. who could ever hold back and last long when in a cunt as tight, as warm, as wet and inviting as yours? 

“fuck, i’m so close— hngh,“ megumi gasps, moaning as he feels your cunt clench around him. “i’m gonna cum— y’feel so good,” he slurs, arms shaking as he tightens his hold on your ass, squeezing roughly. 

your arms’ strength falter and you fall, face pushed down on the mattress between yuuji’s legs. “inside,” you manage to mumble, voice muffled by the bed.

the shackles clang as yuuji struggles again. you look so good, laid out like this and pressed flat onto the mattress as megumi pushes into you once, twice, before he grunts sharply, stilling and pushing as deep as he can, arms trembling as he cums inside of you. you feel it as it fills you up, shooting inside of you, his cock pulsating against your walls. it’s a dizzying feeling, when he moves ever so slowly, fucking himself through his orgasm, the cum trickling and oozing out when the head of his cock falls out of your cunt. 

megumi grabs at it, gripping his cock tightly, as he fucks his cum back into you, and yuuji says it before thinks it. 

“sit on my face.” 

you’re grinning as you lift your head up to look at him. 

you’re not sure how many hours have passed by now. you’ve cum too many times, two only from sitting on yuuji’s face and his eager cunt eating, while megumi’s cum one additional time. yuuji, though. yuuji’s a lot worse off than either of you. or maybe better. 

since he’d asked you to sit on his face, you’d changed his position, and so, his restraints too. he lays on his back now, body slick with sweat and cum, yours, his, megumi’s, it doesn’t matter. his arms are raised up, and there’s a handcuff on each wrist, binding him to the headboard. he stills dons the collar, but this time, instead of attaching him to the headboard, a chain dangles from the singular front hook, and at each end of it are clamps, tightly pressing down on his nipples. 

he’s sore in every way, disgusting and filthy, and every part of his body hurts. but when you reach out for his cock, again, for the hundredth time, and you ask him his color, he still manages out a raspy, whiny, “green.” 

the vibrator that’s been pushed inside of him buzzes alive, and yuuji’s eyes widen, his entire body tensing up as he cries out behind a closed mouth. you reach for his cock, and his mouth falls open, his legs shaking and the handcuffs click and clang. when he throws his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pain as you grip his cock, the clamps pull at his nipples, and he keens, body attempting to curve in on itself in response to the pain. 

“aren’t you a good boy?” you coo, stroking his cock eagerly. 

one of megumi’s hands caresses the expanse of yuuji’s chest, the other fiddles with the buttons of the vibrator’s remote. “a really good boy,” he agrees with you. “like a puppy.” cocking his head and narrowing his eyes at the fucked out boy beneath him, he increases the speed of the toy inside of yuuji, watching as yuuji’s back arches up and his eyes cross, more tears leaking out. the toy is shaped in a way that constantly presses against his prostrate when fully inside of him. that, along with the fact that it vibrates, and your hand around his cock has him crying for the two of you. 

actually crying. fat tears roll down his cheeks, replacing the stain of the old ones with these fresh ones as you jerk him off. 

“puppy!” you exclaim happily, delighted with the way yuuji seems to respond so positively to the nickname. “oh, puppy, i love you.”

yuuji whines, panting desperately as his tongue lolls out. megumi’s finger trails up to his lips, his thumb lifting and pressing down on the muscle in yuuji’s mouth. “it fits him,” he decides, and you hum in agreement, jerking yuuji off faster, harder. 

his past orgasm had been dry, painfully so. yuuji had expected that to be the last of it. you’d pulled so many out of him: the bed is damp with the evidence, and his skin is sticky with it too. but still, you’d whined and pouted at him, asking him for once more. yuuji doesn’t think he can feel the rest of his body anymore, and he thinks he’s actually gone braindead. 

if megumi was asked, he’d agree in a heartbeat. 

yuuji’s mouth twitches against the press of megumi’s thumb on his tongue, but the dark haired boy only moves his thumb to replace it with his index and middle finger. he pushes deeper until his fingers tickle the entrance of yuuji’s throat, until he hears him gag. 

you thumb at the slit of yuuji’s cock, pressing down unforgivingly as yuuji gargles out, “gonna— cum— hngh.” it hadn’t taken long at all. it’s almost pathetic how quick he’d been sent over the edge, his hips rolling and thrusting up and his cock spasming in your hand as he orgasms, the clamps tugging and pulling at his nipples with every movement of his, sending shocks of pain up his spine. he’s too stupified to even consider disliking it though. and you can’t say you blame him for cumming quick, not with what you and megumi’d just put him through. the thought makes you giggle as yuuji uses your tight hand to ride out his final— hopefully— orgasm. 

mercifully, your hand falls away from his cock, and you pat his thigh lovingly as megumi slows down the vibrator. you pull it out of him slowly, mesmerized with how yuuji clamps down and clenches around it like he doesn’t want it to leave him. as you do so, megumi smoothes at his hair, slowly unclasping his nipples and removing his handcuffs, his fingers rubbing soothingly at the sore skin. “dumb little puppy,” he whispers, helping yuuji lower his arms, and moving to remove his collar. 

you laugh lightly as you crawl up along yuuji’s body, placing either hand on the mattress on either side of his face, and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “love you, puppy,” you whisper, sincerely, and it’s okay if he doesn’t kiss you back, lacking too much of his energy to even move an inch. you know he loves you back. 

he did just let you do all that to him, after all. 

“did you two know?” 

it’s nearly 24 hours later that yuuji’s called upon by your superiors, an impromptu mission announced. he’s glaring accusingly at you and megumi now, and you honestly can’t say you’ve ever seen megumi this amused. 

he answers for the two of you. “no, but it’s a nice coincidence,” he replies to yuuji, and the latter harshens his glare. 

he moves to lift an accustoary arm up, but winces in pain and instead, keeps at his side. “there’s no way you didn’t know!” he argues. 

you chuckle to yourself, approaching yuuji. when your hand comes up to cup his face, he relaxes, a little. he’s still radiating anger and betrayal, however. you doubt he’d let this go, ever. if not seriously, then to get back at you. and you keep that thought in mind as you comfortingly reassure him, “come on, love. this is your duty. you knew what was up when you decided to become a jujutsu sorcerer years back.”

he huffs, glare returning as his angry eyes meet your faux innocent ones. 

you roll your eyes, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, and when you do, you pause for a moment. as you steal in a breath to begin to speak, yuuji curls in on you, leaning closer to hear you. “make me proud, puppy,” you whisper by his ear. “and only then can you have your fun with me.” 

yuuji freezes, straightening up. his eyes meet megumi’s, and it’s that mischievous glint shining in them. this time, he matches him, and grins.

end note; holy shit was that long. and filthy. and long. i was gonna make it even longer and go in more depth with the smut but i was like that’s just gonna be boring lmfao hfksjs ANYWAYS i hope you guys enjoyed this!!! let me know what you think and if i should do any other poly scenarios with these two!! <3</p>

[kyovtani]

𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 | 𝒌𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖

✗ pairing: kuroo tetsurou x female reader

✗ genre: smut, like just smut, lit nothing but smut; absolute filth but still classy so it's fílth anyway; established relationship!AU

✗ word count: 4.1k+

✗ warnings: swearing, heavy dumbification and degradation, mean/hard (to soft) dom!kuroo, DD/LG (d*ddy dom / little girl), mentions of jealousy and slight possessive behavior, orgasm denial, p*ssy slapping, some spanking, praising, ch*king, impregnation, some c*m play, car s*x, (a little bit of) cute aftercare

– A/N: Happiest Birthday to my fave scorpio boy in HQ!! This is an old fic of mine which I wrote about a year ago and as I thought about it, Kuroo does fit the concept really well and since I’m a little busy writing smth new, I thought why not reuse this big boy! I hope you guys enjoy this one and please feel free to leave feedback of any kind if you did!!

x all the love, zade.

✗ summary: your boyfriend is sweet, caring and oh so soft, so you decide it’s time to make him lose his composure...

It takes a lot to make Kuroo switch from his soft, caring demeanor to his hard dom persona because after everything, he remains a patient man.

He puts your pleasure above anything else; your body a temple for him to worship and take care of with every part of his being.

However, sometimes, no matter how much you love your sweet, loving boyfriend, you find yourself growing a little bored of his constant softness; your desires going further than just being choked and called kitten.

You want Kuroo to absolutely destroy you, to put it as simple as possible. The guttural desire to have him use you for his own pleasure, claim you in the most intimate ways possible and every now and then your body craves this certain type of pleasure; the one which lays pretty close to pure pain.

Led by your body’s deep desire, you find yourself seeking methods which might not be the morally right ones but at this point you struggle to care the slightest bit about morality.

You set Kuroo losing his composure as your goal, trying your very best without even overthinking the possible consequences and if that means that you have to let a random man flirt the living hell out of you right in front of your boyfriend (who happens to have slight possessive tendencies) during your weekly grocery shopping, then so be it.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kuroo watches the blood boiling scene in front of him with his brows furrowed in pure anger; annoyance flooding his usually so soft and calm features and the more time passes, the angrier he gets.

However, Kuroo’s not a dom for nothing.

He keeps his cool, even lets you take the guy's number as he causally ignores the way that stupid fucker lookes at your ass like a fucking pervert, before the two of you eventually finish the shopping without Kuroo commenting on any of it.

At this point you’re just frustrated. Anger and irritation rush through your body at such a fast pace, you feel your head spinning the closer you get to the car and if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re currently in a public parking lot, you would have thrown a fit already.

Tired of Kuroo’s oblivion, you finally get yourself to gather every bit of composure you have left and turn around to just tell him about what the fuck you want when he suddenly pushes you against the car door, pressing his strong body into your back.

"What the fuck was that little scene supposed to be, hm, doll?", he hisses into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck and just as usual you love the way his deep and almost unrecognizably raspy voice sends jolts of arousal through your whole body right into your core.

In an instant, you feel your cunt clenching in despair, drenching the fabric of your panties just like that and even though you’re very much aware of your surroundings, you can’t bring yourself to actually give a fuck.

"Good fuck dolls answer when they are being talked to", Kuroo grunts and pulls the lobe of your ear between his teeth, easily eliciting a sweet moan from you before he suddenly wraps his strong fingers around your throat. The cold metal of his rings builds the perfect contrast to the hotness of your skin and with another soft whine, you press your thighs together.

And then, as you gently throw your head back against his shoulder, Kuroo’s hand finds its way around your breast, quickly and incredibly harshly pinching your sensitive nipple between his fingertips to remind you of his – still unanswered – question.

"T-Tetsu, I just-", he doesn’t give you the opportunity to finish your sentence, casually tightening his grip around your throat and cutting off your air supply in one go.

"How the fuck dare you call me by my name right fucking now, you cockhrungy little slut?”, Kuroo’s voice is cold and distant; the anger and disappointment evident in every single one of his words and you can’t believe just how much your pussy starts spasming in response.

“You better address me correctly or last night was the last time you got to cum, did you fucking hear me?", he’s quick to add, the lack of oxygen in your body sending you even deeper into the beautiful haze of pleasure. You barely notice the way you start gasping gasping for air, your lids fluttering shut as you press your thighs even tighter together to get some kind of relief from the heavy pressure on your throbbing cunt.

"Y-Yes, Daddy", you whimper and push your forehead against the cold surface of the door, your body slowly but surely growing overwhelmed by the arousal heating you up.

And in the middle of it all, you’re still incredibly grateful for the lack of company due to the late time of the day because even though you enjoy this with every single pore in your body, you don’t want anyone else to see you like this.

Kuroo lets go of your throat, his hand wandering in between your legs and underneath the waistband of your shorts, just to suddenly cup your cunt. The feeling of his fingers pressing against the drenched fabric of your panties, his rough digits rubbing your needy  clit makes you let out a loud, throaty moan.

"Fucking whore", Kuroo curses, his lips so close to your ear, you feel yourself literally melting into a puddle of despair underneath his tall figure, "I can't believe you let that bastard flirt with you right in front of my eyes", he continues and sucks the skin of your neck into his mouth, sucking harshly before he harshly pulls it in between his teeth.

You whine again, constant mewls of frustration leaving your lips as you try your best to move your hips against his big hand, yet fail miserably.

"I should have fucked you right then and there just to show him who this slutty cunt belongs to", Tetsu groans, rubbing his hard erection against your ass but refusing to to move his fingers on your clit. His words and the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves has you moaning and without even trying to calm yourself down, you reach back to take a hold of Kuroo’s thick hair.

"You would have liked that, am I right, kitty cat? No, wait – you would have loved it. You're literally getting wetter and wetter just at the thought being fucked like a stupid whore", Kuroo scoffs, a hint of disbelief wavering in his voice and without missing a beat, you let out a sound of approval in response.

"I'm not even surprised", he hisses and suddenly, pulling his hand out of your shorts, "at the end of the day, you're nothing but a pathetic whore who thinks with her stupid cunt and nothing but her stupid cunt", and then he lets go of you.

His sudden absence leaves you tumbling against the door with a soft whimper and it's then that you notice the way your whole body is shivering from the overwhelming amount of arousal rushing through your system.

"D-Daddy, please", you whisper helplessly, using every single bit of your energy left to turn around and face him, "I need you", you add and can’t help the soft sob falling past your lips; two tears finding their way down your cheeks as you look into the beautiful face of your lover.

The strictness and distance in his features makes you gulp harshly, his usually so soft and calming eyes filled with nothing but hunger and anger and you let yourself devour this rare sight.

"Oh, look at that", Kuroo pushes his bottom lip into a fake pout with amusement sparkling in the pretty brown around his iris, "my little, cockcrazy whore thinks she has the right to even think about my cock after pulling a show like that”, he lets out a loud, empty chuckle, “how cute and oh, so pathetic, kitty.”

Kuroo takes your chin in between his fingers before he straightens his face and pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Backseat", is all he grunts, "I guess I’ve been a bit too good to you. I haven't fucked some manners into you in some time, have I, pretty kitty?”, you look at him with big, teary eyes and your lips parted before you bring yourself to nod in response to his question.

“Is that why you keep acting up like some needy, filthy little whore? Do you want Daddy to treat you like this, hm? Because you know how much I hate disobedient kittens who flirt with other men, yet choose to do it anyway. Right in front of me, too."

His words stir something deep inside of you, your pussy clenching even harder around nothing as a strong jolt of arousal finds its way right into the pit of your stomach.

You have never been more turned on by anyone or anything and at this point you’ve completely forgotten your surroundings; Kuroo and his huge cock the only thing on your mind as you pull open the door to the backseat of his car.

Kuroo watches you carefully, his eyes roaming the sight of your shaky thighs and the damp spot on the grey material of your shorts before he gets himself to tear his gaze away from you, lifting his head and checking the mostly empty parking lot to make sure nobody is watching the two of you.

He doesn’t like doing it in public; the thought of being caught or watched is definitely alluring and tempting but usually followed by the image of it actually happening and a jolt of slight disgust washing over him.

However this time Kuroo is absolutely ready to make an exception because after remaining patient with you for so long, he knows he won’t be able to keep it up for the entire drive back home.

After making sure nobody is around – his habit of parking all the way at the very end of the parking lot no matter what coming as an advantage – Kuroo also makes his way into the backseat, his gaze instantly finding your glossy eyes before he takes in the oddly satisfying sight of your tear stained cheeks and pouty lips.

You look so vulnerable, so helpless, so pathetic – the thought of completely destroying you in every way possible quickly clouding his mind and the longer he looks at you, the more he just wants to fuck you into oblivion.

But again, Kuroo isn’t a dom for nothing.

With hooded eyes, he silently motions you to turn around, the urge to press your face into the seat taking over every bit of his brain.

You don’t hesitate and obediently move onto your stomach, pulling yourself up onto your knees as your eyes nervously roam the inside of his car.

Your heart is hammering against your rib cage at an unhealthy pace, adrenaline and arousal thrumming inside your ears and clouding your mind in the best way possible.

Oh how you love the effect he has on you.

"Take off your shorts and then finger yourself", Kuroo hisses, casually pushing his sweats as well as boxers briefs down his muscular thigh, exposing his thick, rockhard cock to the cold  yet tensed air in the car and letting out a soft hiss, "I want you to stretch that little cunt of yours", he adds and without even trying to hide it, you turn your head to watch the way Kuroo spits into his palm and then wraps his fingers around his cock.

You let out a loud, desperate moan at the sight of his huge length; the tip red and angry, already leaking so much precum, you feel your mouth watering at the memory of his taste coating your tongue. You gulp harshly the longer you watch him stroke his length like that, your pussy clenching in despair at the mere thought of how good he fills you up.

You hear the loud sound of skin meating skin before a harsh pain starting from your inner thigh rushes through you; a choked out whimper leaving your lips before you can literally feel your ears perking up at the sound of Kuroo’s voice.

"If I have to repeat myself one more fucking time, I swear to God, I won't let you cum for a whole month, kitty", Tetsurou growls, an almost inaudbile moan following his threat and after mumbling a soft apology, you're quick to get rid of your shorts and underwear just as you were told.

You bend your body down and spread your legs, only to feel waves of embarrassment and shame in combination with heavy, hot arousal overwhelming you.

Kuroo has the perfect view on your spasming cunt and you know he is basically devouring you with his eyes, your head spinning at the thought.

"Oh, kitty", he sighs and picks up the pace of his hand, focusing on his tip every now and then to slightly edge himself because even though he usually manages to hide it really well, this whole situation has him a lot more worked up than he had expected.

And now that he actually got to see how much his change in demeanor and choice of words have gotten to you, he is more than just  struggling to keep his cool composure.

Kuroo can’t help but think of the way your slick arousal tastes and feels on his tongue, your sweet moans filling his ears as you part those pretty lips of yours in pleasure.

Kuroo watches the way you slide two of your fingers through your glistening folds, collecting your own juice before aiming for your sensitive, hardened little clit and as soon as you press the tips of your digits against the bundle of nerves, both of you let out a loud moan.

"Don't forget about that tight hole of yours, baby", Tetsurou grunts, throwing his head back as he curses himself for slipping out of his persona even if it wasn't for longer than a second.

You whimper at the sound of your favorite pet name falling past those pretty, swollen lips and choke on that exact whimper when you insert both of your fingers into the warm walls of your cunt.

"That's right, just like that, you little slut", Kuroo’s quick to comment, his other hand pushing the material of your (his) oversized shirt up to reveal the soft flesh of your ass before spanking you softly and then digging his fingers into your skin, "even though your fingers are nothing compared to my cock, we don't want you to to get hurt, right?", and again, he finds himself quickly regretting his choice of words and lack of authority.

But he can't help it. You’re his perfect, sweet faced little angel girl after all; there’s no way he can completely abandon his soft, caring side no matter how bratty you become. Not even thinking about giving you a chance to respond, he reaches out and plants another harsh spank on your slightly sore ass.

You muffle a loud whimper, burying your face in your arm as you try to keep your noises down in hopes of getting to hear the sinful moans of your Daddy; however, Kuroo is quick to notice your little plan.

"You're really trying it tonight, huh, you fucking cumslut? You better start moaning or I'm about to get really, really mad and believe me, you do not want that", Kuroo scolds you, his hand leaving your ass and wrapping around the one buried between your legs before he starts helping you thrust your fingers into your wet pussy.

Kuroo watches the way you clench around your digits with his lips parted in pleasure and arousal tingling at the bottom of his spine and if it wasn't for the punishment he has in mind, he would have fucked your pretty pussy.

Your loud moans, high pitched whimpers and desperate whines start filling the small space of his expensive car, making it even harder for him to stay collected and as he slowly observes the way your thighs slowly start shaking, he pulls your hand away from your drenched cunt with a deep grunt.

"Let's go over the rules really quick, kitty", Kuroo sighs and pulls you to stand on your knees, making sure you don't hit your head  before he pushes you against the back of the passenger seat.

Your head is spinning at an inhumane space and you don’t even know if you can form proper sentences especially at the feeling of Kuroo’'s hot tip prodging at your entrance. However the slap against your sensitive pussy manages to pull you back to reality rather in an instant.

"Green means good, o-orange stands for okay, slightly uncomfortable and r-red is the signal for you to stop, Daddy", you whisper, burying your face in back of the passenger seat’s head part as Kuroo slowly starts pulling you down onto his lap, making you sick onto his big cock painfully slowly.

"Keep it going, you're not done yet, kitty. Come the fuck on, stop disappointing me like this", he groans and throws his head back, the sudden urge to feel your lips on his and your tongue in his mouth making his mind go absolutely empty.

His words ring in your head, your mind foggy and sight slightly blurry as he finally bottoms out and knocks the breath out of your lungs just like that.

You try to stay focused, knowing and very well aware of his order but the feeling of his pulsing cock inside of your tight pussy, tip right against the entrance of your womb has you going mad crazy.

"One tap, if I can't breathe, a pinch if it hurts and two if I want you to stop", you finally manage to mumble and  the moan that leaves your lips when Kuroo slowly starts pulling out of you at those words – is almost animalistic.

"I'd love to praise you but you did make me wait and you actually have the pleasure to feel my cock even after all that shit, so", Kuroo’s voice is slightly strained, your tight walls gripping his huge cock like a vice and no matter how many times he got to experience this feeling, he knows he’s never going to get used to it.

You start moaning shamelessly, not even able to close your mouth as Kuroo rams himself back into you and then finally picks up a steady rhythm. Your fingers dig into the fabric of the seat, face buried in the headrest as you let him use you like a doll.

You love the way Kuroo’s grunts grow louder, his thrusts more impatient and the grip in your hips painfully tight; you love the fact that he is enjoying this as much as you were.

But then, out of nowhere, you realize how quiet he has been ever since he has started fucking you.

Dirty talk is something Kuroo has alway been really into, the lewd words falling past his lips so easily and managing to rile you up every time, that you haven’t even noticed how much you miss it.

"D-Daddy", you moan and gulp harshly, your hand reaching behind you to wrap your fingers around his, "t-talk to me, please", you ask softly and spare a quick glance at your lover; his astonishing beauty sending jolts of warmth through your chest.

Kuroo tsks, a loud scoff leaving his lips before he rolls his eyes and keeps thrusting into you. He is absolutely obsessed with the way your cunt spasmed around his cock, the sight of his huge length disappearing inside of your tight hole edging him more and more.

"P-Please, Daddy", tears flood your eyes rather quickly, the pleasure making you incredibly emotional and the tight feeling in your chest looking for relief as you softly sob into your arm, "I need you to talk to me, please; I'm sorry for acting like a whore", you cry and throw your head back, a choked out sob-moan leaving your throat and even though Kuroo does enjoy the way you are literally falling apart on his cock, he hates seeing you cry like that.

"P-Please call me your pretty girl and t-tell me how much you – fuck – love my cunt, please", you beg shameslessly, the tears streaming down your cheeks and leaving hot trails behind and despite the guilt inside your chest, you slowly start coming closer to your relief; the taste of your upcoming high coating your tongue in the sweetest way possible.

"Ssh, baby", Kuroo finally lets go of his hard mask, his chest tightening with every one of your soft cries and even though he knew he'd break at some point, he still had hoped to keep it up a little longer than usual, "it's okay pretty girl, I got you. I'm here, kitten", he whispers and as his soft voice fills your ears, a loud sob leaves you, followed by a tiny moan when his fingers start drawing circles into your neglected clit.

"Come on, angel, I want you to cum", he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before he starts thrusting into you even harder, "show me who this sweet cunt belongs to", your lover's oddly assuring words are the last straw and without another second passing by, you let go and feel the coil in your core snap; shoving you head first into your high.

Several waves of pleasure hit you, your orgasm literally ruining you to a point where you struggle to take proper breaths.

Kuroo helps you ride out your high by slowing down the movements of his hands and hips, his breath getting stuck in his throat as he tries to handle your constant clenching.

"Cum inside of me, Daddy", you whisper, exhaustion dripping from every single one of your words yet you still let out soft little whimpers to encourage your pretty faced boyfriend, "want you to fuck your baby into my belly", you add quickly and the way literal innocence is coating your voice is what throws Kuroo over the edge.

Your cunt continues to spasm around him, making sure he cums as hard as you did and then, after his whole body halts its movements, he cums inside of you; painting your warm walls in several shades of white.

Kuroo quickly pulls out of you, the loss of contact and sudden feeling of emptiness has you whimpering slowly but you instantly go silent when he pulls you into his arms, pushing your face into the sweaty crook of his neck before he slowly starts caressing your naked thighs and massages your scalp.

A couple of minutes pass by, the exhaustion overcoming the two of you and when Kuroo notices the way your lips grow heavier by the minute, he presses his lips against yours and pulls you into a passionate kiss. A lazy clash of teeth, your tongue slowly entering his mouth and of course he is quick to swallow your spit, making you whimper into his mouth.

"Please don't ever do that again, my love", he whispers against your parted lips, his thumb grazing your cheeks and then your neck, "if you want me to be hard on you, there's no need to flirt with other guys, you just have to tell me, okay? You know I will do anything to make you happy", he mumbles and you quickly reply with a soft hum of approval.

"I love you, Daddy", you sigh, burying your face in his chest as your lips stretch into a big smile when you hear him mumble, "I love you, too, pretty girl."

[wlntrsldler]

“You’re in love” (song) x Fred Weasley

PROMPT: based on you are in love by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) The three times Fred knew he loved you and the one time he said it. 

A/N: i did NOT come up with this prompt but i really loved this idea so i wrote my own version of it!! credit to whoever started it first ❤️

WC: 3K+

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

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you are in love (f.w one shot)

The first time Fred realized he loved you was in his 5th year, right before everyone said their farewells for the holiday season. It was the last Hogsmeade trip of the year, snow falling softly around everyone’s body, and a chill in the air that made everyone want to snuggle up beside the fireplace in their house common rooms. George and Lee left the two of you alone, hoping that the romantic ambiance of the holiday season would finally give Fred the confidence to tell you how he felt. 

And Fred tried, Merlin, did Fred try. He spent the whole afternoon talking to himself in the mirror, practicing his lines so he wouldn’t stumble on his words. He didn’t have a problem talking to you as he normally does; you were his best friend after all, like George and Lee, but once he tries to tell you that you make his heart beat faster, make butterflies flood his stomach, and makes him lose all his senses. George had to drag him out of the room, complaining about waiting in the common room for “fifteen bloody minutes” already. 

Eventually, he met you and Lee at the front gates of Hogwarts and walked with you to Hogsmeade. The entire day, he felt so jittery, like he couldn’t stay still. You remained oblivious to the fact that Fred was about ready to burst from the inside from how nervous he was. Lee and George, on the other hand, couldn’t contain their laughter. By the time the sky began to fade into the night sky, George and Lee decided that now was as good of a time than ever and made up an excuse to leave the two of you alone. 

Now here you were, walking beside Fred, bundled up in your house scarf, and the cutest red blush on the tip of your nose. You readjusted your beanie, looking up at him to start conversation. Fred felt his words get stuck in his throat, unable to remember how to speak with you staring up at him with the twinkle of oblivion in your eye. 

“Freddie?” you giggled, bumping shoulders with him. You wrapped an arm around yourself, the chills from the Winter air growing harsher as you walked closer to the castle. “Am I that boring that you can’t even pay attention to my blabbering?” 

“Godric, no,” he blushed, finally able to string words together. Without thought, he wrapped an arm around your body, shielding you from the cold. You melted into him, sighing in content. Fred swore his heart swelled three times its size. 

The snow crunched under your boots as you walked up the path. The lights lining the cobblestone street gave a yellow tint to the sight. He walked with you in silence but in his head, he was going over exactly what he wanted to say. This was the perfect time. The snow falling slowly from the sky, little snowflakes tangled in the strands of your hair. You were pressed up against his chest, so close to him that he could smell your perfume, sweet and addicting. There were no other students around, all too eager to find sanctuary in warmth that the castle brought. It was the perfect time. 

He stopped walking, halting you with him. He let you go for a moment, taking a deep breath in and slowly let it out. You watched as the cloud of fog escaped his lips and dispersed into the air. His red hair poked out from under his hoodie, matted on his forehead. Fred looked down at his wet boots, kicking around snow that pooled around the soles. Finally, he looked up, taking your two hands into his palms in the process. 

You smiled at the gesture, your heart fluttering in your chest. You looked at him, offering a comforting look as you raised your eyebrows up in suspicion, “What’s up, Freddie?”

And just like that, all of the words he worked so hard to conjure up, slipped right out of his mind. When he saw you looking up at him, eyebrows raised, cheeks and nose tinted with a light shade of pink, and your lips plump and red, he realized that there were no words to describe what it was he felt about you. You watched him in silence, studying the way he gave you a lopsided smile when you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, letting out another sigh of relief. 

“Nothing,” he finally spoke, letting go of your hands. He wrapped his arm around you again, hoping you won’t hear the marching of his heart in his chest. “You’re my best friend.” 

-

The second time he realized he loved you was when you spent the summer at the Burrow with him and his family. You were outside the house with Ginny and Hermione, talking about who knows what, and you threw your head back in laughter. The sound of your voice was the only thing he could hear, despite the bustling noise of the other inhabitants of the Burrow.

He stood beside his mother, washing the dishes, as he looked out the window, a smile playing on his lips. Molly watched in adoration as her son stared at the woman he loved, gently nudging Fred with his elbow as she dried the plates. 

Fred snapped out of his thought, blinking rapidly before taking the dried plate from his mother’s hand. “Huh?”

“Truly, Fred, when will you just tell Y/N how you feel?”

He ducked his head, blushing furiously that another one of his family members caught onto his affections, “What are you talking about, mother?” 

“I gave birth to you, boy,” Molly scolded, picking up another wet plate to dry. “I know you.” 

“I’ll tell her soon.” 

“Blimey, Fred,” a voice whistled from behind them. Molly and Fred turned around, seeing Ron munching on a biscuit as he leaned on the door. “You’ve been saying that for like a year now. How soon can soon be?” 

Fred walked over to Ron, hitting him with the rolled up towel he was using to dry. “Shut it, you git. I’ll tell Y/N when you have the guts to tell Moine how you feel.” 

The younger boy’s eyes widened, immediately growing flustered at the mention of Hermione. Molly stood by the sink, arms crossed as she watched the two boys argue and fight. She cleared her throat, “Both of you need to tell them how you feel.”  

As the two boys continued to bicker, the three girls made their way inside, Ginny smirking to herself as she knew exactly what was going on. She’s been around her brothers long enough to know that Ron was head over heels for Hermione and Fred could never shut up about you. Wanting to embarrass them, she spoke up, “Tell who?”

Fred froze in the spot, hearing the smug tone dripping from his sister’s words. He looked at her, sending a glare her way, before giving you a kind smile. He scoffed, “Mind your business, Gin.” 

Your heart sunk in your chest, thinking about Fred having feelings for someone. It wasn’t hard to notice that you had fallen in love with the older twin. Your touch on his arm lingered a bit too long, you stared at him in pure adoration, and you always looked for him everywhere you went. It was a shock that he never caught on. Unbeknownst to you, he was too busy trying to conceal his own feelings to even notice yours. 

You sent him a tight-lipped smile, unable to stop thinking about the possibility that Fred is in love with someone else. Truth be told, she would probably be smitten with him too. Who wouldn’t be? Fred is amazing and everyone was able to see that. He could make you laugh more than anyone else could. He’s so caring and careful with you, like one wrong move and he’d break you like you were made of fine china. He was adventurous, a contrast to your more reserved personality. Fred was amazing. Any girl would be lucky to have him. 

You didn’t realize that you stood in the middle of the kitchen as everyone else excused themselves or made themselves busy. Ginny and Ron already walked out, muttering something about bothering Harry. Hermione struck up a conversation with Molly, now taking Fred’s place in helping with the dishes. Fred stood in front of you, arm reaching out to touch you. He cocked his head to the side as if asking you what’s on your mind. 

Fred grabbed a hold of your hand, pulling you into his chest. He felt your uneasiness, and although he didn’t know what caused it, he knew it was up to him to make you feel better. So without saying anything else, he wrapped both of his arms around you, letting you rest your cheek on his chest. He kissed your temple and rocked you back and forth, not even caring that Molly and Hermione were staring at the both of you. 

As he looked down at the girl on his chest, he realized this is what he wanted for the rest of his life. He loved you. 

-

The third time he realized he loved you was after the war. After all of the casualties and his accident, that almost cost him his life, his life was turned upside down. He woke up the next morning only to find out that you skipped town the night before. You left with no note, no notice, no anything. He just woke up to an empty spot next to him on the makeshift bed they had to make on Hogwarts’ concrete floors. 

It took them two months to start the store up again. When they reopened, the line was out the door, circling around the block. People wanted some happiness after everything that happened. Fred would be lying if he said he didn’t want that either. 

George patted his brother’s back, watching from the staircase as parents bought their children anything they wanted, just happy that they survived the war. Nobody has heard from you in months. All everyone could do was hope and pray that you were safe and doing okay. Not even Hermione heard from you. She probably took it the hardest after Fred. She considered you one of her best friends and it hurt her that you left without saying goodbye, but a part of her also knew that it was probably too much for you. 

Fred knew you were probably out travelling the world, just as you told him many times before. It was your dream, he knew that, but a part of him always thought that he’d be right beside you. Everyday that passed, he cursed himself for not telling you how he felt before you left. Would it have made a difference? He’d like to think so. Even if it didn’t, he, at least, wouldn’t have to live every single day thinking: “What if?” 

The sight was pitiful. George would see him in his office, staring blankly at the picture of the two of you that he framed. He had it perched up on his desk, reminding him of what he could’ve had. George tried to get him to move on, but even he knew Fred was in love with you, and you were someone special to the both of them. Nobody could compare to you and nobody would ever dare try. 

It wasn’t until six months later when you stumbled into their shop, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. A part of you knew you didn’t have the right to be there because you left them with no warning. You wouldn’t blame them if they asked you to leave the premises the minute their eyes landed on you. You knew you deserved the cold shoulder. Merlin, if they were the ones who did that to you, you knew you wouldn’t be so forgiving. 

The shop was fairly busy, kids running around trying to get their hands on everything they wanted before the school year. You saw the displays of the love potion, smiling sadly as you remembered your lonely months alone. Fred consumed your thoughts. He was the only one you could think of when you left. Every little thing reminded you of him. 

You spent a few weeks in Paris, living amongst the Muggles, and watched the sun set behind the Eiffel tower. You would turn to your left, half-expecting Fred to be there, only to be met by an empty space. You went to Greece and ran into the water, laughing freely at your found spirit. You began to search for his laugh behind you, waiting for his arms to pick you up and spin you around in the light of the moon. But then you remembered what you did and you felt sick to your stomach. 

That’s why you came back. You couldn’t take it anymore, not after 6 months of being alone. You knew you needed time but now you needed your friends, your family, your Fred. You wanted nothing else but to bury yourself in his warm embrace and feel his lips kiss the skin of your forehead. You yearned for nothing else. 

Your eyes locked with a pair so familiar. He dropped the vials in his hand, not even caring that the contents spilled down the steps. His jaw was hanging wide, eyes blinking rapidly as if they were playing a trick on him. You smiled at him, unsure of his reaction. 

Fred watched you for a moment before a grin broke out on his face, running and shoving paying customers out the way to pick you up. All the feelings he still had for you, tripled. His heart rumbled in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Even after all this time, he was still so in love with you. 

He began bumping into displays, dropping some of his own merchandise. You squealed when he reached you, his head sitting comfortably in the crook of your neck. His laugh carried throughout the store, disrupting everyone in the vicinity. But he didn’t care. You were home. 

-

It didn’t take long for Fred to tell you how he felt after you came back. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Every moment that he didn’t get to call you his, chipped his heart. His brothers and his sister were growing tired of it, encouraging him to just say it because they were certain you felt the same. Fred tried to ignore them, not wanting to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help but think about how amazing it would feel if you told him you loved him back. 

You just came over to have dinner with the Weasley family, Molly and Arthur insisting that they missed you too much to go out to a restaurant and cut the celebration short. After a hefty meal, you and Fred excused yourselves and walked out into the garden. His hands were in his pockets, unable to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time. He’s been practicing what to say to you since Hogwarts and yet, he still felt unprepared. 

You were walking silently beside him, taking in the silence and calmness of the life you’re living now. You no longer had to worry about anything, just the day to day necessities, and your feelings for Fred. Subconsciously, you intertwined your fingers with Fred’s snuggling up to his side for some warmth. 

Fred froze for a moment. This is it, he thought, this is the perfect moment. 

Before he lost his confidence, he spoke, “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, Freddie?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. “What is it?” 

He held you in your place, stopping in the middle of a field of flowers. The moon illuminated one side of your face, showing off your perfect features. Fred smiled, reaching over to caress your cheekbone. With tears in his eyes, he said, brokenly, “I’m so bloody in love with you.” 

You gasped softly, looking up at him, “What?” 

“I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Fred sighed, connecting his forehead with yours. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’ve been in love with you for so long.” 

In a small whisper, you asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I’ve been so afraid of what you’d say.” 

“I love you, too, Freddie.” 

At first he thought his ears were deceiving him. You loved him back? His eyes shot open, pulling away from you as he stared at you in disbelief. “Y-you love me?”

“Yes, you silly boy,” you chuckled, pulling him closer to you. Your lips ghosted over his, causing him to shiver. With your lips dangerously close to his, you continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long.” 

“I’ve been a down right idiot, haven’t I?” 

“Yeah.” 

And with that, he kissed you. All those years where he hid his feelings came pouring out in this one kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his like there was any more space between the two of you to close. Your arms looped around his neck, allowing him to dip you once one hand snaked down to your waist to steady you. He kissed you, pouring in all his regrets, mistakes, apprehensions, into his love, no longer wanting to pass up an opportunity to love you for the rest of his life. You giggled against his lips as he peppered you with kisses, unable to stop himself. 

Once he stopped, his chest rumbling with laughter like you, he beamed at you. He pecked your lips, one more time, his kiss feather light, “I’m the luckiest man in the world.” 

On your way back to the house, you felt it in the air. The love. It lingered between the two of you, surrounded you and suffocated you, but it was the best feeling in the world. Fred Weasley was in love with you. You are in love.

-

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[qitwrites]

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One for all is a devastatingly strong quirk. Class 1A has seen Deku break both his legs and both his arms on multiple occasions just from the repercussions of his strength and his body’s inability to keep up. They’ve seen him punch a robot the size of a building into oblivion, they’ve seen him smash rocks and concrete into smithereens, and they’ve seen the way he uses the wind from the aftermath of his kicks to create powerful long-range attacks.

Midoriya’s quirk is like strong strong.

So naturally, he becomes the official class 1A jar opener.

It starts with Aoyama. There’s a jar of ricotta cheese that he cannot seem to get into and Kirishima offers to open it for him.

‘Thank you, monsieur,’ Aoyama says with a grateful bow.

‘No problemo, my dude,’ Kirishima grins. He wraps his fingers around the lid and twists, expecting the lid to just pop off because that’s what always happens. Kirishima usually applies the lightest pressure against a lid, and it melts like butter in his fingers. Kirishima has, in his limited years, never met a jar that’s bested him.

Literally nothing happens. He tries again, adding a bit more pressure. The lid doesn’t budge in the slightest. It doesn’t begin to loosen, to twist in the direction of the force, that tell-tail pop as it slips off the ridges. It sits there, like a rock.

Kirishima tries one last time, with all the strength he can muster, just shy of activating his quirk. It’s a fine line, and if his quirk does activate, he knows he can open this jar. He also knows it will shatter, which defeats the purpose. Because like, if Aoyama didn’t care about the condition of the cheese, he could’ve thrown the jar against the wall himself to break it. Kirishima twists and pries and yanks, groaning and grunting with the effort.

Apparently, Ricotta cheese is going to defeat him. The thought is humbling, to say the least.

Tsuyu walks by to grab some dried crickets and offers to try. Kirishima hands it over with a defeated sigh, and Tsuyu does the same- she twists and yanks and pries and nothing. Even Dark Shadow decides its worth a shot when Tokoyami walks by them, and they watch as the night creature shrieks and trills and fails miserably.

Dark Shadow hands the jar back to Kirishima.

‘What is up with this thing?’ Kirishima grumbles, staring at the jar incredulously. He tries again, and it feels no different. This jar of cheese seems to have defeated 4 different pro-heroes-in-training.

They don’t hear Midoriya walk into the kitchen until he opens the refrigerator. Midoriya, oblivious to the agony of those around him, takes a few sips of orange juice before popping the bottle back inside. He’s preoccupied with thoughts of the math problems they’d studied earlier that day, so he’s a bit startled when 4 pairs of eyes are trained on him.

‘Yes?’ he asks, chuckling nervously.

Kirishima holds out the jar. ‘Open please.’

Midoriya shoots him a puzzled smile but takes the jar. He wraps his non-dominant hand around the lid and twists and-

And the damn thing just pops open. He doesn’t stutter. He doesn’t make a face or groan or pry. He twists, gently, and the lid is off. And he’s using his non-dominant hand.

Midoriya hands the jar back to Kirishima, his smile soft and confused and warm.

Nobody says anything.

‘Anything else?’ Midoriya ventures. They all shake their heads. He shrugs, waves goodbye, and makes his way back to his room.

Kirishima gives the jar to Aoyama and they proceed to spend the next 10 minutes squealing in wonderment.

Tales of Midoriya’s jar opening feat spreads like wildfire. The entire year knows by the end of the day, and Midoriya is blissfully unaware because all he really wants to do is finish his stupid math assignment so he can grab dinner with the gang.

After that, it sort of becomes his thing. Bottles of dried fruit, jams, cheese, and condiments are offered to him, and the freckled boy simple takes what is offered, twists, and boom, it’s open.

Midoriya doesn’t even realize it until a few weeks later, when a jar of pickles is pushed into his hands while he’s debating hero agency laws with Iida. Midoriya doesn’t blink- he takes the jar offered to him, pops it open, hands it back. It’s a quick, practiced thing at this point. When Iida stops talking and his hands pause mid-air, that’s when Midoriya realizes what he’s just done, that’s when his actions sink in.

He thinks it over and then offers Iida a helpless smile and a shrug. He really doesn’t mind it at all.  

Iida blinks at him before diving right back in, and they debate back and forth, voices loud as they gesticulate frantically. It’s a familiar sight.

Sero even offers him a jar that’s been super glued shut while Midoriya is watching footage of a mount lady fight. It doesn’t faze him at all. Kirishima records the entire thing.

On a random Thursday night, Midoriya finds himself alone in the common room, watching re-runs of old All Might movies. He’s seen them so many times by now but that doesn’t matter- he’s still glued to the screen, the world fading into darkness.

A cold glass jar is pushed into his arm and Midoriya does his thing and hands it back. And then the smell, eye-wateringly spicy, hits him like all hell. Midoriya coughs and looks to the side and catches Bakugou walking away.

‘Not a single fucking word, shitty Deku.’

Midoriya just stares, and then he calls out a hurried Of course, Kacchan! and then he gets yelled at some more. A chilled water bottle is thrown at him, and Midoriya takes a long drink, soothing his burning eyes with the surface of the bottle when he’s done.

At some point, he goes on to become the official jar opener for class 1B. It just sort of happens. And honestly? He really doesn’t mind at all.