#generally speaking if i made a playlist for him that would be a hot ass mess

[lazleylazarus]

random silly rgg headcanon i've just came up with

if ichiban somehow ever discovered nerdcore, he wouldn't bother trying to interact with it and especially understand it finding it kinda weird until he as a self-respecting ners would eventually find himself enjoying some of the nerdcore compositions and artists. even though he missed nearly 20 years of global internet culture development staying behind the bars instead. even though he doesn't speak english

[hotmesshapa]

VIP • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x female reader

genre: smut • DJ!chan x stripper!reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.6k

warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, very light orgasm denial and spanking, a bit of fluff

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in literal years and I have no idea what I’m doing, so I’m sorry in advance lol. also shoutout to these lovelies for being interested from the start 🖤 @mikoto-ica-fics @missskzbiased @bratforbin​ @jungkooksbroski​ 

There are three strict rules in the club: no touching the strippers, no romantic work relationships, and absolutely no sex in the club. Your manager had everyone sign off on his rules for a reason; you didn’t even want to imagine the chaos that could ensue if everyone was allowed to do whatever they desired in the club.

However, whenever Chan was DJing on the nights you worked, you always considered blowing off those rules. But you knew better. You both enjoyed your jobs at the club and wouldn’t risk getting fired over something as stupid breaking the few rules, despite the obvious sexual tension between the two of you. It’s not your fault that he always came into work wearing tight shirts that clung to his muscles in ways that made you drool. It’s not your fault that he flirted back whenever you playfully hit on him while handing off your playlist for the night. It’s not your fault you noticed the way his eyes hungrily stared you down whenever you were on the main stage, or the way his jaw clenched in jealousy whenever you took a guest to the VIP room.

But rules are meant to be broken, right?

Tonight starts out no different from any other work night: greeting the other girls and bartenders, taking a quick shot of tequila for an extra boost of confidence, and digging through your purse trying to find your flash drive of songs you want played for your routines.

“Got anything new for me, babygirl?”

You snap your head up at the sound of the handsome DJ’s voice. “Hello to you too, Chan,” you reply, rolling your eyes. He shamelessly checks you out and gives you a cocky grin that you can’t decide if it makes you want smack him or pounce on him “You know if Minho hears you speak to me like that, you’re in a world of shit.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s not here tonight. But even if he was, he wouldn’t dare fire me. I’m the best DJ this club has.”

“Well then, fuck my drag,” Changbin pipes up from behind the booth, shooting a glare at Chan. “If you’re so great, set up your own table then.”

“Don’t listen to him, Binnie,” you giggle as you go back to searching for your flash drive, “He just likes to think he has all the power around here.”

Changbin scoffs as he continues to set up his mixers. “Only when you’re around. The other girls would kill to have him flirt with them.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the comment, but try your best to ignore the feeling as you turn back to Chan and hand him your music. “I have some new songs for tonight. Feel free to play whichever ones you want to watch me dance to.”

“Jesus,” Changbin rolls his eyes, “get a room, you two.”

You shoot Chan a quick wink, earning a smirk from him, and turn around to head to the dressing rooms, well aware his eyes are glued to you as you leave.

You close the door behind you and set your purse down on the vanity, checking your phone and cursing at the time. You hadn’t realized that your mini flirting session took up more time than expected, and start frantically getting ready, changing into your black satin two-piece that left very little to the imagination and applying a generous amount of body highlighter to every exposed part of you.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but think about what Changbin had said. You and Chan flirt all the time, and normally it doesn’t affect you, but something about Changbin’s comment has your head spinning. Something about discovering Chan only flirts with you just makes you want to break the rules even more, but you don’t want to risk your jobs just because you desperately want him to dick him down. You wouldn’t do that to him. You sigh and slip into your stilettos, checking your appearance one last time before stepping out onto the main floor for your night to begin.

The night had been running smoothly as usual: three pole routines with the songs Chan chose from your collection (all by The Weeknd, of course), and a few rotations around the club flirting with guests, giving a couple of lapdances. You have a generous amount of bills tucked into your thong and bra, and you pull them out to count, trying to smooth them out and make them look somewhat presentable. You make your way to the DJ booth, where you find Chan leaning against the wall beside the booth, scrolling through his phone and sipping on a beer, while Changbin is behind the table, engrossed with the set he was playing.

“Here,” you say, handing Chan his tip. “You made some really good choices tonight. I had a feeling you’d choose The Weeknd.”

“What can I say,” he smirks, “You can’t just give me the option to play his hottest songs and not expect me to do anything about it. Especially when I get to watch you dance to them.” 

He suddenly leans in, closing any space there was between you two. “By the way, your routine to ‘Life of the Party’? So. Fucking. Hot,” he purrs, looking straight into the eyes.

“Chan,” your voice falters for a second, your eyes unintentionally dropping to his lips, before bringing them back up to meet his stare. You clear your throat in efforts to recover, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising in your core. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Come on, Y/N, would that be so bad?”

“God, I can’t leave you two alone for one set, can I?” Changbin slides himself between you and the other DJ, throwing an arm over your shoulder and playfully wiggling his eyebrows at you both.

You elbow him in the ribs, earning a dramatic cry from him in return, and you can’t help but giggle. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Three shots? Maybe four? I don’t remember.” He hums in appreciation as you hand him a wad of cash. “I can’t believe I’m gonna pay this month’s rent with your ass money,” he laughs, trying to shake off as much body glitter from the bills you handed him before sliding them into his wallet.

You roll your eyes. “I can give you tit money, if you pref-“

“There’s my baby!”

The three of you spin around at the familiar voice, coming face to face with a young man, his dark hair grazing his eyes as he shamelessly checks you out.

“Jisung! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Changbin greets the man with a typical bro handshake, before swinging an arm around his neck. “Here for the usual?”

“Of course,” Jisung smiles at you, “It’s not a Friday night without a visit with Y/N.”

Jisung was one of your regulars; he came in every Monday and Friday to book private lapdances with you, and only you. The first night he booked you, he almost immediately admitted how enamored he was with you, and ever since then, he refused to book with any of the other girls. And to be fair, you might have allowed him to break one of the rules, letting him grab your ass, hips and breasts as you danced, especially since that always earned a better tip from him. But now, while he still did request lapdances every now and then, he mainly booked you just to talk, and fortunately for you, he still tipped generously. He was an assistant to a big-time music producer, a job that came with a handful of stressors that he just needed to rant to someone about, and you were always willing to be there to listen.

While the relationship you and Jisung formed over the past year is strictly platonic, that hadn’t stopped Chan from developing a slight sense of jealousy. And to make matters more complicated, Jisung was well aware of that tension and loved to push the DJ’s buttons, much to your chagrin.

Jisung shifts his focus to Chan, giving him a cocky smirk that you know will be followed by a snarky comment. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty lil’ lady all day. You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?”

“Of course not,” scoffs Chan, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need my permission. She doesn’t belong to me.”

“Awww. And I know that must be difficult for yo-”

“But she doesn’t belong to you either.”

Jisung says nothing for a moment, before cocking his head at the DJ with a smirk and stepping towards him. “Oh? Is that so? I don’t see anyone else going to the VIP room with her the nights I’m here.”

“Guys-” you feebly try to take control of the situation, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“Y/N is a human being, not a fucking dog, Jisung. Nobody ‘owns’ her.” Chan crosses his arms against his chest, looking the younger man dead in the eye. “If anything, considering you’ve been coming here and paying her the big bucks, for what, a year now? I’d say she’s the one that owns you.”

Jisung smirk immediately disappears and you swear you can feel the air between the two men flood with tension. But within an instant, he smiles again, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Now, now, there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and have some fun for the both of us. If you want, I can tell you all about it later.”

You quickly glance at Chan, his fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps, his jaw clenching so hard he looks like he could bust a vein in his neck.

“That’s enough,” Changbin interjects, massaging his temples in frustration. “Come on, Chan, you’re in the booth next. And Jisung? Just remember the club rules-”

“I know, I know,” Jisung rolls his eyes and turns back to you. “Shall we, baby?”

You nod, silently praying that Changbin will calm everything down once you leave, and the two of you head to the VIP room. Jisung opens the door follows you inside, jumping in surprise when you slam it shut and shoot him a glare, and he only laughs in response. “What? If you can tease him, why can’t I?”

You sit on the maroon leather couch in the VIP room, counting your tips and mentally making sure you had enough to pay your upcoming bills for the month. Jisung had left about twenty minutes ago, and the lack of muffled music from the main floor indicates that it’s finally 3am and the club is closed for the night. You release a long sigh, slouching in your seat and resting your head back on the couch. You close your eyes, your mind still reeling from everything that happened. Everything about tonight shocked you. Usually, Chan was good at hiding his jealousy, since the last thing both of you want was to scare away potential guests, or for Minho to notice. But Chan talking back? His reaction to Jisung’s last jab before leaving for the VIP room? Those were new.

You have never seen Chan that jealous, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it was fucking hot. Thoughts of Chan not only standing up for you, but also being possessive of you, and what he could do to you out of jealousy filled your head, and you feel a sudden tingle shoot down to your core. Everything in you knows that you shouldn’t fuck Chan. There are rules, but you can’t stop your mind from imagining all the possible sinful acts you could do with him that you would do anything for at this point. You know that would be a bad idea, but the delicious wetness pooling between your thighs shoves any inhibitions you previously had out the door.

Fuck the rules.

You walk out onto the empty main floor, letting out a breath of relief to find Chan packing up his mixers - alone. You tap on the booth to get his attention, giggling when he jumps in surprise.

“You’re still here? I’d thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I was just counting tips,” you reply as you glance around the club, making sure you two were truly alone. “Chan… about earlier-”

“Yeah... sorry about that.” He lets out a long sigh and runs his fingers through his dark, messy hair, the tips of his ears turning pink in embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me. I just... you know I get a bit jealous sometimes, and that prick was being extra annoying about it tonight.”

“Not gonna lie though, your clapback was pretty great. And hilarious,” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He laughs. “Yeah, well I’m glad you thought it was, because Changbin sure as hell lectured me about it for a solid 15 minutes.”

A comfortable silence falls between you both as Chan goes back to packing up the table. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to ease any tension that might be lingering, and to bring up what you truly want from him. “Chan... Jisung and I just talk when we’re in the VIP room. Nothing happens-”

He shakes his head, keeping his focus on his current task. “You don’t need to tell me, Y/N. It’s honestly none of my business what you do with the guests. Like I said earlier, you don’t belong to me.”

“But what if I want to?”

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his stare flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you with such an intensity that ignites a fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, placing kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen, and it makes you smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing onto yours, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, indicating how desperately  both of you have been wanting to do this.

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling at the look of utter confusion on his face. You lean in closer, lips inches away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Y/N… w-what are you doing?” Chan shakily asks, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips.

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.” With that, you close this distance between the both of you, and you practically feel him melt into your touch. His wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, kissing you back with such an intensity that further ignites the fire in your core. He backs you up against the wall of the DJ booth, pressing his hips against yours and gently rolling them into you, making you softly moan against his lips.

Chan hesitantly breaks away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he searches your eyes for any sign of uncertainty or regret. “Y/N. The rules. I don’t want you to get fired-”

“I honestly don’t give a flying fuck about the rules at this point,” you purr, planting kisses along his jaw and neck. “Do you?”

He breaks into the biggest grin you have ever seen as he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Fuck no.” His lips come crashing down onto yours, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you instantly give him. You can feel his hard on growing beneath his jeans as he rolls his hips against you once more, making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hey, so I’m done-”

Changbin’s voice abruptly interrupts your heated rendezvous, making you frantically scramble out of Chan’s arms and dive underneath the table, while Chan quickly pretends to continue breaking down the DJ booth.

“You guys are literally the least discreet people I know. It blows my mind that you haven’t been caught yet.” You can’t see him, you just know Changbin is shooting Chan one of his signature death glares, intended for the both of you. You poke your head out from behind the booth, which only gets you dramatic eye roll from the other DJ. “Just don’t make a mess and don’t forget to lock up,” he grumbles as he turns to leave. “Oh, by the way bro, you got shit on your face.”

You glance up at Chan, giggling at your lipstick smeared along his lips, jaw, and neck, the bright red color prominent against his pale skin. He narrows his eyes at you, and you innocently mouth the word “whoops”, grinning as he rolls his eyes.

As soon as you hear the doors close, Chan pulls you to your feet, lifting you up and pinning you to the table. He attacks your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, but thankfully not rough enough to leave any marks that’ll need to be covered up for your next shift. Desperate for more, you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your hips up against his, smirking against his lips as he groans into your mouth.

Chan begins to plant wet kisses down your stomach as his hands frantically move from your hips to his belt. He begins to undo the buckle before you grab his hands to stop him, which only gets out a small whimper in confusion from the man. “Not here,” you lean up to pull him closer and playfully nip his bottom lip, before grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling it so he’s looking you straight in the eyes. “The VIP room.”

Chan’s eyes darken with lust as he harshly kisses you again, deepening the kiss to the point where it’s a mess of teeth and tongues, but it makes the heat between your legs grow by the second. You let out a yelp in surprise as he lifts you into his arms without warning, making his way to the infamous room where he’s watched you lead guests into night after night.

The second he steps into the VIP room, it’s as if both of your desires are kicked into overdrive, the desperation for what you’ve been waiting for all this time becoming almost unbearable. You take his bottom lip between your teeth again and tug on it lightly, relishing the way his grip on your ass tightens exponentially. Chan kicks the door closed, not breaking the kiss for one second as he sits down on the leather couch, positioning you so that you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his prominent bulge underneath the rough material of his jeans as he ruts up against your clothed heat, and you whimper as you grind against him, desperately wanting more and trying to indicate how much you want him need him now. You feel his hands firmly hold you in place, halting your motions and making you whine in frustration, which only earns you a low chuckle in response.

“Use your words, Y/N. Tell me what you want.”

You roughy kiss him and swivel your hips against him, smirking when he releases a throaty groan against your lips. You take a hold of the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you so you can look him in his lust-filled eyes. “I want you, Chan. All of you.”

Chan smirks, giving you a quick kiss before lifting you off his lap, pulling down his jeans and flinging them off to god knows where. You hastily rip off your two piece and toss it haphazardly across the room, giggling when Chan pulls you back into his lap the second you’re bare in front of him. His gaze is locked on your form, taking you all in before looking back into your eyes. He stares at you as if you are a goddess, and you feel your cheeks flush from the attention.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, his hands sliding up and down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He brings one hand to your jaw, pulling you into a searing kiss, his other hand taking hold his rigid member and sliding it through your sopping folds, making you shameless moan aloud. “Ride me babygirl,” Chan mumbles as he begins to kiss and nip at your collarbone, “take what you want from me.”

With that, you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, keening at the way he deliciously stretches you out, finally giving you the taste of what you’ve been wanting for so long. Chan throws his head back, screwing his eyes shut, a sinful groan falling from lips as you sit on him completely. Giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size, you wrap your arms around neck and pull him back so he’s meeting your gaze. You take his hands and intertwine them with yours, pinning them behind his head as you begin to ride him, slowly lifting yourself off him before quickly dropping back down. A string of illicit moans and curses falls from Chan’s lips, his hands firmly gripping yours, desperately trying to keep himself from breaking your grasp and taking control. He trails wet kisses down your chest, licking your nipples before taking them into his mouth and rolling them between his teeth, making you whimper and lean into his touch. You pick up for pace, admiring the way his face contorts into different expressions of pleasure as he throws his head back and looks up at you with glassy eyes.

“S-shit babygirl...”

His bout of self control doesn’t last much longer, because the next thing you know, Chan rips his hands from your grip, placing them on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you, meeting your movements halfway, hitting you in just the right spot. He moves a hand from your hips to rub firm circles against your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck... Chan- oh my god...”

You try your best to continue to ride him, but you feel your thighs getting weaker and weaker with every thrust. You feel the pressure in your core building to the point of complete euphoria, when he lifts you off of him completely. You whine in frustration, feeling your high fade, hating how empty you feel without him buried inside you.

“Don’t worry baby,” Chan chuckles at your protests, suddenly flipping you around and positioning you on all fours on the couch. He places a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, before moving up to nibble your earlobe. “You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

He aligns himself with your entrance and eases into you, the new position allowing him to fill you deeper than before, making you both release illicit moans at the feeling. Chan slowly retracts his rock hard member from you, only to instantly plunge back into you, taking no time to pick up the pace, slamming into you at a rate that’s making you see stars. The momentum of his actions force you forward on the couch, making you cling desperately to the armrest in attempt to stable yourself, praying your shaky legs won’t completely give out underneath him. Suddenly, a sharp slap comes down on your ass, making you cry out and clench around him.

“Fuck... you like that, baby?” He massages where his hand had landed, only to spank your ass once more.

“G-god, yes Chan... p-please... harder.”

You feel another slap, come down on your other cheek, this time much harder, and you can’t help but moan loudly at the feeling, the delicious sting causing your grip around his cock to tighten exponentially. You hear him let out a low groan as his hips begin to slap against yours at a brutal speed, and you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel again.

“C-Chan, I’m... I’m close...”

“I know, babygirl, I can feel you.” Chan leans over you and plants rough kisses against your neck. “Go on, Y/N, cum for me.”

With his permission, you come undone around him, your release white hot, hitting you like a train and making your mind go completely blank as he continues to roll his hips into you, helping you ride out your high. Your legs feel useless under you, but thankfully Chan’s firm grip on your hips keeps you from collapsing from exhaustion. His thrusts start to become more and more erratic, desperately chasing his own high, groaning at the feeling of your tight pussy still throbbing around him. You can tell he’s close, and clench around him hard, smirking as you hear a string of curses fall from his lips, his hips rutting and quivering against you as he paints your walls white, and you hum in content at the warm feeling.

Chan slowly pulls out of you and falls back on the couch, gently pulling you so you’re laying on top of him. You leans up and playfully nip at his bottom lip, making him chuckle.

“That was...”

“Amazing,” you giggle, burying your face into his chest.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, and you eyes flutter close as you bask in heat the radiates from his body. He absentmindedly run his fingers lightly up and down your back, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” He quietly asks, as if he’s hesitant to bring it up again. “Do you want want to belong to me?”

You look up at him, and you swear you can feel your heart expand at the way he’s staring back at you with so much hope and adoration. “I do... god I really do, Chan, but you know we can’t. We barely manage to flirt without getting caught, so this has to be one-time thing-“

“I got offered a job at a different club,” Chan quickly blurts out. “It has better hours, more creative freedom since I wouldn’t be DJing for strippers... If I took it, would it change things?”

“You’d do that? But you love this job.”

“I do, but not gonna lie, I mainly love it because I get to see you.” His comment makes you blush, and you bury your face in his chest again if efforts to keep him from noticing, which only gets you a soft laugh as he gently tips your chin up to face him again.

“Honestly, if it means I can do what we just did with you whenever we wanted, without having to worry about stupid rules or anything, then fuck yeah I’d take another job. The only downside is I won’t be able to watch you dance when I work.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, laughing when you just roll your eyes at him.

You sit up, positioning yourself so that you’re straddling him once more. “That just means you’ll have to come back here as a guest.”

“Hmmm...” he mumbles as his eyes travel up and down your body, his hands reaching around and lightly squeezing your ass. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow the club rules though.”

“Don’t worry about those,” you purr, leaning down and nibbling on his ear, earning a quiet moan from him. “If you become my regular, all the rules are off the table.”

“I like the sound of that.” Chan gently cups your jaw and pulls you into a tender, but passionate kiss.

You smile against him, running your fingers through his hair, before pulling away slightly, your forehead resting against his. “Then I’m yours, Chan.”

“And I’m yours as well,” he whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips, before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, earning him a yelp from you. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “What do you say, let me show how I can really treat you in the VIP room?”

[levis-little-nuggie]

How the brothers would react to catching f!MC riding a suction-cupped dildo on the communal HOL washing machine

I didn't think through how much I hate this idea, but I fuckin ran with it so here we are and I'm not apologizing. However the title is still a work in progress. I am accepting ideas.

This first one is Lucifer's reaction.

Warnings: little bit of blood (in a sexy way), he calls MC some vulgar names >:( but he apologizes so I guess it's okay, fem!MC because I was feeling self-indulgent.

Rating: explicit 😌

Word count (so far): 2,628

Carrying the weight of the hamper on her hip, MC closed the laundry room for behind her and padded over to the oversized washing machine. It was laundry day for her and living in a mansion with seven demon brothers didn't make this any easier. Their keen sense of smell had her on edge about keeping certain articles of clothing cleaner, washing them more frequently than when she lived in the human world.

She threw in her load of pajamas, towels, and underwear, including the pair she had been currently wearing, leaving her in an oversized shirt she'd "borrowed" from Beel. MC mixed in the detergent and fabric softener, and started the cycle. As the hot water started pouring into the bin, MC double-checked that the door was closed before pulling out the suction-cup dildo she'd hidden in the laundry bin and stuck it to the top of the washer. MC nudged the step stool closer to the machine, applied a generous amount of lube to the toy, clambered on top of the washer, and positioned herself over the dildo.

Thanks to previous instances in the laundry room, MC was fully aware of both the machine's durability to hold her weight comfortably, and its vigorous shaking when loads were unbalanced. Asmo had winked at her when she came running to him for help for taming the large appliance. "You could say, with a bit of creativity, it'd be the next best thing to sitting on my face, hon."

He'd been right. Unfortunately, this also meant that Asmo knew what laundry day meant to MC and she already felt mortified sharing this dirty secret with Asmo so MC tried her best to schedule her trip to the laundry room for whenever he wasn't home. Luckily enough, it seemed the rest of the brothers were completely unaware of her sinful indulgence and this activity quickly became addicting.

Having already been wet from the excitement, MC's fingers slid into her, pumping and scissoring to stretch herself open. She pressed the tip of the toy against her opening, biting her lip to stifle the noises she wanted to make as her fingers moved to circle over her clit, squeezing her eyes shut as her hips lowered onto the toy. Taking a few moments to breathe from the size of the dildo filling her up, MC maneuvered her legs to shift from her kneeling position sitting on the machine, toy fully sheathed inside, her ass against the lid, and legs hanging over the top.

Her hands trembled from both the excitement and the warmth that stirred in her lower abdomen as she reached for her phone; the machine would be still for awhile as the clothes soaked, but MC loved to fantasize she was cock-warming any one of the brothers until they both gave in and he fucked her mercilessly.

Lazily circling her hips to feel the toy move around inside her, MC mindlessly nibbled on her thumb while flicking thru Devilgram. Scrolling down the feed, she stopped to watch a video Mammon had posted, the audio flowing through the DDD's speakers a teaser for an upcoming song he was releasing. Turning up the volume on her device, MC let the video repeat as she felt herself getting hyped for the track to release. After double-tapping to like the post and leaving an energetic comment, MC opened the music app on her DDD and shuffled the playlist she made of the brothers' songs to stream while she opened a game on her phone to complete the daily task while waiting for the washer cycle to start.

The above set-up will be the same for all the brothers. Below this point will be Lucifer's reaction.

Another prank from the Lucifer You S*ck team left the eldest with some ruffled feathers and an ever-growing coffee stain on his RAD uniform. A vein pulsed on his forehead as he sauntered to the laundry room.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was to hear MC singing along to Satan's song behind the laundry room door. The eldest brother hesitated, his grip tightening on the doorknob as he debated waiting for her laundry to finish but found his brows furrowing as she stopped singing, the machine started its spin cycle, and the faintest of moans floated through the door.

"What in Diavolo's name-" Lucifer opened the door to investigate but halted as he took in the scene before him. MC's eyes had widened, staring directly at Lucifer in a way that perfectly explained the human idiom "like a deer stuck in the headlights." Her mouth was agape but quickly snapped shut as she tried to stifle her panting, legs crossing themselves in an attempt to look innocent, but her white-knuckle grip on the edge of the washer had him feeling alarmed.

"MC, what's going on? Are you feeling unwell?" The machine had started rocking as it began its spin cycle, but Lucifer couldn't figure out why MC was sitting on top of the washer. Was she feeling ill? Her forehead had a sheen of sweat, did she have a fever? Lucifer dropped his clean uniform and crossed the room so he was directly infront of MC, reaching out to feel her heated face, completely disregarding her feeble attempts to assure him she was fine.

'Lucifer! I'm fine, just doing some laundry' was what she wanted to say. However, with the machine rocking, the dildo was rubbing right up against her g-spot and she was fighting the urge to grind her hips. She managed to sound out the first half of his name, but the way his gorgeous, ruby eyes looked into hers with concern, his facial features that were carved by God himself, and a single thrust against that spot had her shivering, finishing the rest of his name in a sultry moan.

The Avatar of Pride blinked as the cogs in his brain stuttered trying to piece together what was happening, his hand froze in mid-air as he had been reaching out to feel the temperature of her skin. The machine continued to rock and MC couldn't find the strength to pretend she wasn't riding a dildo on the communal washing machine and felt her control starting to slip. MC couldn't read the expression on his face and averted her gaze, trying to deny that him watching her like this was turning her on even more.

Seeing his hand stretched out, MC leaned forward the small distance to press her cheek against his palm, biting her lip as she stole a glance at the demon. His eyes remained transfixed, dazed, but he didn't pull his hand away and MC was feeling a little more daring than usual. Tilting her head, she pressed his thumb against her lip, her eyes flickering again to his own for barely half a second, and closed her lips around the tip of his thumb, running her tongue along the seam of the leather. His lack of response coaxed MC on to keep going. Her tongue drew the digit in further, lips gliding over the leather, the material fueling new fantasies she'd previously overlooked.

As the dildo continued its steady rocking, MC felt her control melting away and frustration slowly started to build. Why hadn't he moved? Surely it'd be better if the eldest had scoffed in disgust and turned away than to have him just staring at her like this. She swirled her tongue around his thumb, lips hollowing as she sucked, trying to illicit some sort of response from the demon.

However, he remanded unmoving. MC felt an array of emotions ranging from frustration, shame, embarrassment, anger, all mixed with the sexual desire raging thru her, MC felt tears prick her eyes. She released the thumb from between her lips with an audible pop and faced Lucifer with a snarl; which he found endearing and as threatening as the chihuahua.

"I don't do live performances. Either touch me or leave." MC made a show or grabbing her breast from under her shirt, letting the pleasure from the toy fill her senses and began grounding her hips against the toy as the spin cycle picked up speed. Getting ready to bark at him again, MC yelped as the shirt was torn open and a pair of hands gripped her hips keeping her still but the dildo continued moving with the machine.

"I didn't realize our little human was such a naughty slut. Really. Sticking a toy on our washing machine? Are you that desperate to be fucked?" Nails bit into her flesh as his voice called out her sins, all traces of her bravado gone, replaced with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame. MC tried hiding her face but he still saw the tears that threatened to spill over before crawl down her face and cooed.

"There's nothing to feel ashamed over, my dove. I apologize if I was too vulgar." Lucifer lifted her hips and she squirmed, not ready for him to see the full extent of the situation; the idea of the dildo coated in her juices waving about on top of the poor washing machine only intensified her embarrassment. However, before she could speak out, Lucifer dropped her hips causing her to slam herself back down on the toy. Stars erupted across her vision as the demon repeated the action, drinking in her reactions and felt his erection strain against his pants.

"This carnal desire is human nature. If anything, it's our own fault for not considering such a basic need." His fingers trailed along her neck, tapping against her pulse as if in thought. The hum of the washer broke through the moment and Lucifer clicked his tongue behind his teeth. He reached behind her to turn off the machine and lifted MC off the machine, and the dildo.

MC didn't get a chance to wince from the manhandling as her lips were immediately covered with his own and she felt him pulling her close to him, his hands urging her to wrap her legs around him. She couldn't match the fire he was pouring into her fast enough and he growled, simultaneously smacking her ass and grinding his erection against her folds. This new side of the prideful demon caught her off guard, but the smack brought her back with a fervor.

Her hands fumbled with the buttons on his collar and he kneaded where he spanked her, causing MC to mewl into the kiss. One of his hands moved up to hold the back of her neck as he walked to pin her against a wall. Her legs squeezed his hips tighter and he reached up to break open the collar of his shirt, shedding the clothing haphazardly somewhere else in the room. Meanwhile, MC moved to undo his pants, reaching into his trousers to palm his erection. Lucifer hissed and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to her stomach with one hand.

Releasing her lips, Lucifer latched onto her throat, biting down on the skin above her pulse and positioned himself at her entrance, hesitating for only a moment to allow her the chance to back out. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she braced herself, kissing the side of his head, and granting him permission with a soft, "please." Her voice turned into a wanton cry as he pushed himself into her. His tongue lapped at her throat, sucking against her skin as a feeble distraction to keep himself from fucking her before she was ready but the way her body was receiving him was making the demon tremble.

"Lu, please, I need you to fuck me," all shyness and mortification was gone and all that remained was the sexual desire and a sense of urgency.

"Do you know what you're asking of me, my dear? Do not underestimate me."

"Lucifer, fuck me or else I will invoke our pact and make you-" the rest of MC's threat was lost, replaced by a sob as Lucifer's restraint snapped and began thrusting wildly into MC. It didn't take long for him to readjust his position, turning them away from the wall. With his hands on her hips, the eldest brother moved her against his thrusts, bouncing her on his cock and slamming back into her. His rhythm would change randomly between fast and shallow to deep thrusts where he'd pull out to the tip and snap his hips to fully sheath himself. He'd felt her muscles constrict around him a few times, keeping a tally of how many orgasms he pulled from her, but he wanted her to make a mess and to make a mess of her.

Bending MC backwards, he continued drilling into her as he held her hips in-front of him. Her voice cried out in a scream as he relentlessly thrusted against that spot and she felt a wave building.

"Lu s-st, wait, I'm, you're gonna make, h-hold on-"

"I know MC, it's okay. Let go."

With Lucifer's words of encouragement, MC felt herself relax, giving in to the impending wave that continued to build. Reaching out, her hands found a shelf to stabilize herself, her mouth open in a silent scream as the dam broke and ecstasy filled her senses. The way she clamped down on his cock had Lucifer's hips stuttering through his own orgasm, filling her with his seed quicker than he had intended; the intensity of her orgasm having coaxed his to follow suit.

As the fog cleared in his mind, Lucifer's fingers twitched and he noticed the array of bruises littering her hips. MC lifted her head to look up at him, but the rest of her body was limp. She smiled sheepishly causing Lucifer to roll his eyes but his lips turned to shape a playful smile and MC giggled as he pulled her up. They winced as he pulled out of her, but she kissed his cheek and he brushed his nose against hers, humming as they basked in their afterglow together.

Lucifer grabbed a blanket to wrap around them and turned to leave the laundry room when he caught sight of the glittery purple dildo still mounted to the lid of the washing machine. He snorted and walked over to it. Having curled into the demon, MC had to turn to see why he'd stopped walking and groaned.

"Don't you dare."

"Hmm?

"You're going to say something really condescending and I don't want to hear it." MC snuggled closer into Lucifer's chest, pulling the blanket over her head in protest.

"I don't know about 'condescending,' but-"

"Lucifer, don't you fuckin do it."

"This had to been Asmo's idea."

"..."

"It just reeks of desperation and wanting to get caught."

"Lucifer!"

"Now if you had been a good human, and come to me with your situation sooner, all of this could have been avoided. But now, there's a big mess to clean up." Having lived with the demon brothers long enough and sitting thru many a famous Lucifer lecture, MC could hear the smirk in his voice. In retaliation, MC pinched the Avatar of Pride's nipple earning her a grunt and a thump on the back of her head. She hissed like a cat from behind the blanket and Lucifer sighed from the absurdity of the whole thing.

"Do you want to go get cleaned up?"

"....yes."

"Do you need me to keep carrying you?"

"...yes."

"Then be a good girl and hold this." MC pulled the blanket away from her head, curiosity having piqued her interest, but groaned when Lucifer handed her the aforementioned dildo. "I don't want the others seeing this in case the room isn't cleaned up by the time they come back from their classes."

Damn him for making perfect, logical sense.

"Besides, I might want to use it on you later."

"...I hate you."

"I know."

[emotions-ew]

A Collection of Queer Country Artists and Songs for anyone who doesn’t feel like there’s country music they can relate to...

There is this idea that country music is like just Republican men singing about beer, and trucks and also Jesus,  and that is kind of fair because loads of it is but there are some cool as hell queer/lgbtq+ country artists. Finding those and finding that representation in a genre of music I was literally raised on kind of changed my life in a tiny way and I wanted to share that.

(This is by no means a comprehensive list and also I’m basing the “Country” part of this sometimes on my subjective opinion/limited music knowledge so yuh please don’t hate me if I get some wrong)

Also link below for a Spotify playlist of my favourite gay/gayish country music, some mentioned in this post some not, (with a title that isn’t obviously gay for anyone who can’t openly listen to gay stuff on their public accounts for whatever reason) so feel free to skip the massive essay and just jump straight to that. And pretty please repost if I missed anyone/ any songs you love.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7KB6PmUxnpkU7lih8Bysvw

Artists To Follow:

Chely Wright

- Right off the bat, Chely Wright is a legend and I’m in love with her. So, in the 90′s Chely Wright was kind of a huge deal. She started her career as a singer/songwriter and released her first album in ‘94, which was critically acclaimed although never reached the commercial success of her later works. By ‘97 she was really hitting her stride, dropping her breakout hit “Shut up and Drive” (a personal favourite of mine) followed two years later by the biggest hit of her career “Single White Female”. Throughout all that Chely Wright was, to the world, a good old fashioned, heterosexual southern gal. Privately it was a bit of a different story. She had public relationships with male country artists, all while pursuing a secret decade long relationship with a woman. 

I hadn’t ever really heard a Chely Wright song until a few years ago so I never knew about her music or career pre-coming out but I do know that even though by the time she came out in 2010 she was by no means at the height of her fame Chely Wright is kind of one of the biggest names in country music to be out and proud (in my opinion) and I love her like an insane amount. I literally play her music in my car when I have passengers just so I can be like “fun fact this singer is actually gay-” and then subject them to a lengthy explanation of her entire career. She came out with an album and a memoir and the album is my favourite of her work because it’s so fucking raw and because I relate to most of it immensely. Anyways Chely Wright went fucking through it in her journey to being her authentic self and now she’s out and proud and married to a woman and they have a family together and I’m a fucking sucker for a happy ending and y’all should add her to every playlist you have. And on top of that her music is genuinely good. Coming out undoubtedly damaged her career but I think that

Brandi Carlile 

- As far as I can tell Brandi Carlile has been out her whole career. I feel like this list is just going to be me saying “I’m in love with her” about a bunch of women old enough to be my mother but in my defence, I am honestly in love with her. She’s been making music since she was like, seventeen, and has had a bunch of massive hits, as a singer, songwriter, and producer. If you want to cry kind of happy tears listen to her performance of “Bring my Flowers Now” with Tanya Tucker. She’s won Grammy’s and CMT awards and she’s done it all as an out Queer woman. She’s also a founding member of The Highwomen, an all-female country music group who released their first album in 2019, comprised of Carlile, Marren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires. I really love this band because they’re four artists who are immensely successfully in their own right collabing, much like the Highwaymen, and their music is phenomenal while also being a fuck you to mainstream country music and their inability to properly represent women in country music spaces. 

She’s been married to a woman (smoking hot and also brilliant) since 2012 and they have two kids together and if you want to cry (again) then you have to listen to her song “Mother” about her eldest daughter. A queer country artist absolutely worth adding to all your playlists. 

Brooke Eden

- As I understand it Eden came out publicly in January of this year. She’s engaged to Hilary Hoover, who she’s been dating since 2015 apparently. I can’t even imagine the pressure that must be on a person and how stressful it would be to keep a relationship secret from the whole world for years and personally I think they’re a cute as hell couple and I wish them literally all the happiness in the world. 

Brooke Eden has a few older songs that I think are really good, my favourite being “Act Like You Don’t”, and while her new stuff isn’t my usual country vibe I am a sucker for literally anything gay and it is legally my gay duty to stream any song that she releases to support my fellow queer. It’s quite different to anything Wright or Carlile sing but I actually kind of love that because it shows that country music of all different shapes and sizes and styles can be sung by queer artists. 

Amythyst Kiah

- Okay so I am a very new listener to Amythyst Kiah, but her music is literally so beautiful it would be a straight up sin to not include her on this list. Her music is country-blues-roots esq (more roots than country, I think?) and her voice is so unique. She grew up in Chattanooga and has been playing music since childhood. She recently made her Opry debut which is fucking awesome. She also belongs to a band called Our Native Daughters, described as “A supergroup of Black women in traditional music”. Their debut album “Songs of Our Native Daughters” did numbers and I haven’t listened to the whole thing but my favourite so far are “Black Myself” and “I Knew I Could Fly” so y’all add that to your playlists along with “Wild Turkey” by Amythyst Kiah because holy hell her voice on that will blow your mind.

Steve Grand

-        The first man to make this list, he should frankly be honoured. Grand has been an out and proud gay man making country music since like 2013, and I have so much respect for an artist who chose to simply never be in, choosing instead to simply write gay ass songs about being in love with men and letting the chips fall where they man. His music is always going to have a special place in my heart and, he’s cute so if you’re into men and music by men give him a google. add him to your playlists, his All-American Boy album is literally just a dozen songs that are perfect to yell-sing along to.

Katie Pruitt

-        Not hugely knowledgeable on Katie Pruitt but her music makes me feel crazy intense emotions and is absolutely gay

 Honorable Mention Artists I haven’t Really Listened to But Who I Know to be gay thanks to google and might be your thing so totally check them out:

Brandy Clark

Ty Herndon

Shelly Fairchild

Lavendar Country

Trixie Mattel

Cameron Hawthorn

Drop any other names of artists or songs you know of 

 Specific Songs That Make Me Fucking Cry or (in good and bad ways (but always in a gay way)) or basically are just gay as hell:

If She Ever Leaves Me; The Highwomen

- So, this album came out about a week before my first (and only) girlfriend broke up with me. The general gist of the song is a woman singing about how her loved isn’t ever going to leave her but if she does it sure as hell won’t be for a creepy man in a bar. A little ironic that I felt I related to it so intensely, considering she did in fact leave me. There’s this one lyric that goes “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve lover here out loud/the sky hasn’t always been blue” and my girlfriend and I were crazy deep in the closet so I drew her a cute little picture of a grey cloud and on the back I wrote that lyric and I gave it to her and to me it was kind of a promise that one day I’d get a chance to love her out loud and even though I never actually did this song is forever going to make me cry because of the little bit of hope that lyric gave me and the way it’s inclusion on this overwhelmingly mainstream country album made me feel like acceptance was just that little bit closer. 

 All American Boy; Steve Grand

- Definitely one of the first gay country songs I ever heard, and Steve Grand didn’t once sacrifice a scrap of country for the gay. It’s beautiful, it’s a little sad, it’s hopeful. It’s forever going to hold a special place in my heart and the music videos is kind of one of my favourites ever. I found this song before I found myself and the way it made my heart warm should have been a stronger sign than I took it to be. 

Like Me; Chely Wright

- When you love someone you kind of make it your mission to know them in a way that no one else can. This song by Chely Wright is sort of an ode to that, and how even once you lost someone, you’re still going to know every little thing about them. On top of that it sort of speaks to the idea that all these things Wright learned about this woman, she learned in secret and she knew her and loved her in secret and now that they’re gone from each other she’s left with all of this knowledge and all of these questions and no one to answer them. I love the way it’s so slow and the melody and her voice, the way it’s low and a little raspy, make this one of my favourite Chely Wright songs.

The Mother; Brandi Carlile

-        Sorry but a song about being a mother by a queer woman is going to make me cry every time and actually I’m not that sorry. It’s quite a simple song, if any song written by Brandi Carlile can ever be described as ‘simple’, it’s an ode to her daughter. My favourite line is “you are not an accident/where no one thought it through” because it speaks to the fact that in order for queer women to have a kid together they have to want it so damn bad and also I just like the way her voice sounds on that line. This song is also the perfect thing to listen to if you ever for a second feel like being gay/queer is going to stand in the way of you having a family because it absolutely doesn’t have to and if that’s something you want, you can have it. Don’t let people try and convince you otherwise.

Loving Her; Katie Pruitt

-        Unapologetic gay love. Opening a song with “If loving hers a sin, I don’t wanna go to heaven” is a fucking baller move and she went there. The lyrics are beautiful, and her voice is phenomenal. It could be a sad song, about confronting religious repression and grappling with what that means for your love, but instead its triumphant. Katie Pruitt doesn’t give a fuck if you have a problem because she’s going to write songs for her lover.

Jesus From Texas; Semler

-        Not actually totally sure this is a country song, but it has the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘Texas’ in the title so I feel safe including it in this list. Honestly, I don’t really know why I relate so hard to this song. Like, I wasn’t really raised with religion, so I don’t know what it is about this funky little tune that makes me want to sob but there’s something about this tune that makes me want to do whatever the opposite of get up and dance is, but like, in a good way.

Lovin’ Again; Steve Grand

-        Breakup song that ends kind of positively? So good to sing along to at high, high volumes. The idea that losing someone doesn’t have to mean losing yourself and just because you can’t love them doesn’t mean you’re not ever going to love again. But also kind of about how it’s hard to get over someone, I don’t know it’s just good.

Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears; Lavender Country

-        Jesus christ if this isn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Sorry but a gay country group formed in 1972 who dropped possibly the first gay themed country album, and this was the title of one of the songs. God I am in love.

 Songs that (to me) are a little fruity or that I just relate to in a gay way:

Picket Fences; Chely Wright

-          Chely Wright is gay but this song came out long before she did and when she wrote it, it wasn’t supposed to be gay which is why it’s in this section and not the previous. The reason it’s included at all is because frankly ma’am, Mrs Wright, it’s a little fruity. And I feel a little bad for joking because honestly to me, the way I hear this song and knowing the context (that Wright was deeply closeted at the time she wrote and released it), it’s kind of just sad. The general gist of the song is Wright asking what’s so great about a traditional lifestyle anyways. It could be read as a woman genuinely questioning why we push that expectation that she’ll have two kids and a husband and a picket fence lifestyle, or even could be read as a woman who’s trying to deflect how much she does in fact want that, you have to listen and form your own opinion. But to me, it feels like a woman who’s desperately trying to justify why she doesn’t want that life not because she can’t have it, but she knows it will never be right for her. I don’t know it’s hard to explain I just feel like this song is a little bit gay even though I’m sure she didn’t intend that.

Sinning with You; Sam Hunt

-          Sorry but this song is gay. Sorry but you can’t write the lines “I never felt like I was sinning with you/Always felt like I could talk to God in the morning” and “if it’s so wrong why did it feel so right” and “But I never felt shame, never felt sorry/Never felt guilty touching your body” and not to mention the opening line of “raised in the first pew/praises for yeshua/case of a small town repression”, and expect to not sit in my car sobbing as I realised that while I never felt like what we did was a sin she absolutely did, and wishing I could have told her that I was sorry for making her carry the weight of both our souls but also that it wasn’t a sin and nothing in the world could feel that good and be that bad and it isn’t right that she had to be so ashamed of something that was just so good. Sam Hunt actually said after he wrote the song that while it was reflection on his own relationship with faith he genuinely hopes that people in the lgbtq community can like find comfort or whatever in his words and like go off king, we stan an ally.

  How do I Get There; Deana Carter

-          This ones easy, it’s about falling in love with your best friend and suddenly realising you want more than just friendship with them. Sorry Deana, that’s gay. In my Deana Carter of like Year 10 I played this song on repeat and screamed along to the lyrics as though singing it hard enough would make her like me back.

[hopelesshawks]

Love and Admiration Part 19- Goodnight Princess

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warnings for brief depiction of sexual harassment (not from Bakugo), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), degradation, praise kink, dacryphilia (crying kink), overstimulation, and dirty talk

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

As you walk up to the AHA building you spot Aizawa talking to a man with his back to you in a black bomber jacket, a white hood pulled over the back, with a black baseball cap on. Curiosity drives your feet forward a little faster until you get close enough that recognition finally hits and causes you to slow down again. Even with his back to you you’d recognize Bakugo Katsuki anywhere. Part of you wants to turn around and run home, message Aizawa some half hearted excuse about getting tied up in a villain attack and no longer being able to help out. Before you can though Aizawa notices your arrival and waves you over. “Here’s who you’ll be working with,” you hear your former teacher tell Bakugo and just as it sinks in that Bakugo was also clueless as to who he’d been working with, he turns around to see and your heart skips a beat. Yes he looks unfairly attractive the way he always does but what really caught your attention is his outfit. Right there in the center of his white hoodie is a black Mercury symbol, the same symbol stamped somewhere on almost all your merch and the same one you’ve been using as your profile picture on social media since your debut. Bakugo follows your gaze down to the incriminating symbol, his cheeks going bright red. He mutters out an excuse about tossing bags in the car so he can turn away although you’re a little surprised when he extends his hand out to you expectantly. You consider the man in front of you who still won’t meet your gaze. Hurt still burns unpleasantly in your chest but you hand over your duffel bag and with little more than a sheepish glance and nod as acknowledgment, Bakugo moves to the trunk of the car to load it up. “You and Bakugo can handle this right? I saw the news call you a dynamic duo so,” Aizawa asks and you nod immediately. “Yea, we’ve got this. You got nothing to worry about,” you assure the older man. “Good. Get into town, get some rest, one of the local heroes will fill you in on the situation in the morning,” he explains. You nod your understanding and then go to join Bakugo in the car. Once you’re settled in, Bakugo starts up the engine and pulls off into the night.

The silence is awkward. You stare out the window as the cityscape slowly starts to thin out. Once Bakugo pulls the car out onto the highway it doesn’t take long before you’re leaving the city lights behind entirely. When the silence becomes too oppressive you pop open the glove box and root around until you find a USB port. You use your phone charger to plug in your phone, scroll through to one of your chiller playlists, and press play. Music floats through the speakers and you feel yourself relaxing although a quick glance at Bakugo reveals he doesn’t feel the same. He’d discarded his jacket in the backseat once he’d gotten in the car and, as usual, had pushed the long sleeves of the hoodie up to his elbows. As a result it’s easy to see the tense line of his shoulders and the popping veins in his forearms. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are almost white. You’ll be genuinely surprised if there aren’t permanent indentations of his fingers in the steering wheel by the time you two reach your destination. You’re tempted to just let him stew in whatever emotions he’s feeling at seeing you again for the first time since you’d hooked up, but then your eyes fall on where your hero name is written on the sleeve of his hoodie and you decide you’re feeling just generous enough to break the silence.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I got you.”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

Bakugo’s hands somehow tighten even more on the steering wheel before he bites out “Because I like it,” defensively. You roll your eyes and return your gaze to the window. No one can say you didn’t try. You’re about to give up and lament your fate to the groupchat when you hear Bakugo sigh next to you. “That’s not it. I mean I do like it but I didn’t think your dumb ass was gonna be here and it’s not the only reason,” Bakugo confesses. “Insulting me is not a strong start but what’s the other reason?” you ask. The pause is long before Bakugo speaks up again to admit, “I’ve missed you.” The incredulous look you give him almost makes him wince. “You’re the one who stopped messaging me you asshole!” “I know that!” “Then you don’t get to miss me!” “Well I don’t know what the fuck to tell you cause I do!” “Then why’d you ghost me?” “I panicked!”

Both of you go silent after that particular admission. This time it’s Bakugo who speaks up to break it. “Look I don’t date,” he sighs. “Who the fuck said I wanted to date you?” you ask defensively, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to apologize.” “Apologize better.” “If you shut the fuck up I will.” “I don’t think apologies are supposed to include telling the other person to shut the fuck up.” “I’m trying here (y/l/n),” Bakugo growls and the almost desperate edge to his voice is enough to make you swallow your next retort, instead motioning for him to continue. “I don’t date and I don’t usually fuck people I enjoy having around. I already fucked up with you enough so I didn’t want to do it again. I panicked and that only made shit worse until I didn’t know how to fix it, ok? People care about me and I’m shit to them, that’s just how it goes. I’m sorry you got caught up in it,” he finally admits.

You weren’t expecting that level of honesty from him, nor were you expecting his answer to be so vulnerable. You turn to face him as much as you can within the confines of the seat of the car and take in his body language. Had he always been this insecure about his relationships with the people around him? Maybe if you hadn’t spent years cataloging his every move and expression from afar you would’ve missed it, but looking at him now he looks cracked open. You get the distinct impression that as small as his list of people he likes is, the list of people he’s allowed to see him like this is even smaller. “That’s not true,” you offer but that only makes Bakugo scoff. “It’s not!” you insist. “I don’t need your fucking pity,” he grumbles. “Jesus Christ you really are an idiot. Midoriya, Kirishima, and Denki all have plenty of other friends asshole. If what you said were true they would’ve dumped you a long time ago so cut the pity party bullshit and give me a real fucking apology so I can forgive you already,” you insist, and it reminds you a little of how he’d encouraged you during the reunion. The glance he shoots you is calculating, as if trying to assess how much you mean those words. “You’re going to forgive me?” he asks skeptically. “With an actual apology? Yea. I swear to god you’re the only one who still sees you as the same person you were when we first got to UA,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “I’m sorry for ghosting you,” he grumbles out, cheeks slightly flushed as he does so. “Good. You’re forgiven. Now what songs should I play the rest of the drive?”

The ride gets a lot easier after that. You’ve missed Bakugo and it’s nice slipping back into the groove the two of you seem to have with each other. He talks shit about your song choices but you still catch him humming along or tapping the steering wheel to the beat a few times. He reveals he got around to finishing your favorite movie and so you guys spend a long time talking about that and your recommendations for other movies going forward. It’s comfortable and before you know it Bakugo is driving past the welcome sign for the tiny town the two of you will be working in. There’s only one hotel. It’s small and could probably use some updating but it’ll do just fine for the short duration of your trip. As the two of you grab your bags and start to head inside Bakugo asks “What are the odds the old man sprung for us to get our own rooms?” “Doubtful, you know the association is cheap as fuck. It has to be. You’re stuck with me,” you tease. “Guess that ain’t so bad,” Bakugo shrugs, which causes your heart to pound a little harder in your chest. “I’ll check us in if you wanna grab some shit from the vending machine,” Bakugo offers and you easily agree, the two of you heading in opposite directions to complete your tasks.

As you make your way over to the vending machine you catch the attention of a middle aged man, likely another guest, who follows you over that direction. “Well hello beautiful, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing around here?” he calls as he makes his way over. You roll your eyes but otherwise ignore him as you instead focus on selecting something from the machine in front of you. “C’mon hot stuff, don’t ignore me. I can tell you’re a big city chick, probably been around the block right? What’s one more?” he insists, sliding his body in front of you. “Do you mind? I’m trying to grab something,” you reply as levelly as possible. It’s moments like this where you hate the spotlight of heroism. You would love nothing more than to make the man blocking your way move but that would be unbecoming of a role model for future generations. “Aww don’t be like that doll, lighten up,” the man grins before having the audacity to move away from the vending machine just enough to smack your ass. You are livid, your hand immediately grasping hold of his wrist to stop him from touching you again. You whirl on him to tell him off but before you can he’s being wrenched out of your grip and violently tossed to the floor. Before you can even fully process what’s happened Bakugo stands like a wall between you, all fury and fire and brimstone. You haven’t seen him this angry in a very long time and even if the man who’d been hitting on you doesn’t know who Bakugo is, the glare and overall body language is still enough to have him cowering at Bakugo’s feet. “If you ever fucking touch her again, if you so much as fucking look at her, I will make you wish you were never fucking born,” Bakugo growls out and god maybe you do have a murder boner like Nejire said because you should not find any of this hot but you definitely do. The older man scrambles to his feet with a nod and runs off with barely a glimpse behind him and certainly not one in your direction, allowing you and Bakugo to heave a sigh of relief. “I know you had that handled but dude pissed me off,” Bakugo explains. His voice is still rough and anger-laden and you try to ignore the way it sends shivers down your spine. “Thanks Bakugo,” you reply, grateful both for his defense of you and his acknowledgment that you don’t need defending. “Katsuki,” he corrects you immediately. “What?” “You’re not mad at me anymore right?” “No?” “Then call me Katsuki,” he insists gruffly. You can only nod in response, afraid that if you open your mouth something embarrassing will come out of it like how incredibly fucking hot it was watching him defend you or how saying his first name right now is bringing back a few too many memories of when he’d first demanded you use his first name in the alley.

Bakugo leads you to your room as you try in vain to rein in your rampant thoughts. Even as you finally arrive all you can think about is the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of him filling you up, and what it was like to, for a moment, be the sole owner of his attention. He tosses his stuff on his bed and sits down as you move towards your own but your mind insists on picturing him fucking you relentlessly into it. “What’s up with your face dumbass?” Bakugo suddenly asks and the question makes you jump about a foot in the air, warmth filling your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught mid-fantasy. “Nothing is up with my face!” you defend and you hope it’s the truth because you can feel how much wetness has pooled in your panties already. Bakugo rises up and stalks towards you and you can’t help but feel like prey, stepping backwards away from him until he’s got you crowded up against the wall. The similarity to that day in the alley is not lost on you and it only makes things worse. “What’s running through that head of yours princess?” he asks and the nickname is too much, a breathless curse slipping past your lips unbidden. You don’t have much time to be embarrassed by how obviously flustered you’re getting because one of Katsuki’s hands finds your waistband as if on instinct at the sound of you breathless. “If you don’t stop I won’t be able to hold back,” he admits and you can tell by the flush in his cheeks that he means it. “I thought you don’t sleep with people you like,” you reply with bated breath. “You’re the exception,” he growls out, pressing closer before seeming to think better of it and closing his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as if trying desperately to control himself, before adding “if you want to be.” “God yes,” you reply and no sooner have the words left your mouth is he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips as if he’s been quietly suffocating and you’re the last bit of oxygen left.

Katsuki tugs you away from the wall and you go easily, allowing him to push you towards your mattress until you’re lying down on it and he can comfortably hover over you, his lips barely leaving yours the entire time. It doesn’t take long to get you both down to your underwear, the entire process a blur. “You’re such a fucking mess for me princess,” Bakugo practically purrs as he runs his fingers along the damp fabric of your panties. Your hips buck up into the attention eagerly as you nod your agreement at the statement. “Yea, it’s only for you,” you tell him breathlessly and it might’ve been embarrassing if not for the way it draws a deep, satisfied growl from Katsuki’s chest his mouth dropping to your neck and then your chest and working further and further down. “Think you deserve a better apology then I gave you in the car,” he says suddenly looking up the length of your body to find your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask with what little breath you have in your lungs. “I’ve always been better at doing shit than talking. You thought that apology before was good just wait,” he grins up at you cockily and it already has your stomach doing somersaults even before his teeth find the waistband of your panties and start tugging them down your legs. The moan you release at the sight is completely unfettered as your already dripping wet pussy clenches desperately around nothing. Katsuki is nothing if not a tease so even once he’s done with your panties he doesn’t immediately head to the main course. He lavishes attention on your inner thighs, leaving countless hickeys in his wake but no matter how much you whine and squirm he shows no signs of moving his mouth to where you really want it. “Katsuki,” you finally whine desperately. “What is it princess?” he asks and you can feel him smirking against you, the bastard. “I don’t think apologies are supposed to be teasing like this,” you pant. “Oh really now? You got something to say about my apology princess?” Bakugo asks, the smirk sliding away. “I think you’re not much better at this kind of apology than spoken ones.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t realize my princess was such a whore. You want my mouth that bad? You want to cum that bad?” Katsuki asks and there’s an edge to his voice you’re pretty sure means trouble for you but you nod anyway. “Please Katsuki.” “Well if my princess wants to be a greedy fucking slut then so be it,” he agrees in that same lethal tone before diving in to devour you with an intense voracity you’re unprepared for. You moan loudly, hands grasping hard onto the blankets as he licks a hard swipe all the way from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit before pulling the nub into his mouth and sucking hard. He continues to lave attention on your sensitive clit even as he shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt and starts setting a brutal pace. Eventually he brings his free hand to take over for his mouth and stimulate your clit while he moves his tongue to join his fingers, stuffing you absolutely full. The attention is almost overwhelming and it isn’t long until you’re seeing stars, crying out Katsuki’s name. As you come down from your high you realize Katsuki is still pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Katsu- ah!” you cut yourself off with a shout as he resumes massaging your swollen clit. “S-slow down,” you moan but if anything it only makes him move his fingers more aggressively. You grit your teeth, grasping the blankets even more tightly. “What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this,” he taunts as he pushes you into your second orgasm of the night.

Your entire body is tingling now, thoughts filled only with Katsuki, but he still hasn’t stopped and you’ve never been so overstimulated in your life. “Kas’ki ‘s too much,” you moan, eyes watering as he continues to relentlessly massage your almost painfully sensitive clit. “Don’t tell me my greedy little slut is done already. I still haven’t filled you up yet,” he teases you as he finally removes his finger only to line his dick up with your entrance instead. “Come on baby, I think you’ve got one more in you. Don’t you want to be good for me?” he asks and every inch of your body is saying that you should tap out but instead you find yourself nodding. “Use your words baby.” “Wanna be good for you,” you pant and the devilish grin you get in response has your heart practically in your throat. Slowly but surely Bakugo starts pushing into you. It’s so much, too much, stimulation but even as tears start to run down your cheeks you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. He curses under his breath as he finally bottoms out inside you, taking a moment to collect himself so it won’t be over too soon. As he starts moving he lavishes you with praise while all you can do is whine and whimper, alternating between barely intelligible expressions of how fucking good it all feels and broken cries of his name. “God you look so fucking beautiful like this. You know that? Fucking gorgeous,” he groans as his hips move faster and faster. You can tell when he’s close, his rhythm starting to get sloppier. “You ready to give me that third one baby? Can you do that for me?” he asks and you nod frantically, coasting along that razor thin edge between pleasure and pain. He leans down to kiss you then, swallowing each broken sound you make, as he rocks into you harder and harder until you’re both too strung out to do much more than pant and breathe into each other’s mouths. You topple over the ledge first but Katsuki isn’t far behind, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. You sob out his name one final time as praises pour from his lips about how perfect you were for him. “Knew you could do it for me princess. So good for me,” he sighs as he continues to paint your insides white.

When Bakugo is finally spent, he rolls over and practically collapses next to you. You both have to take a minute to recover, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo recovers first so he carefully pulls back the covers before bringing them back up to drape over the two of you. “You good?” he asks, eyes scanning over your body as if trying to catalogue any damage he might’ve done. “More than good,” you sigh contentedly. “Good. C’mere,” he commands and you’re more than happy to oblige, allowing him to pull you against his chest. He carefully wipes the tears away from your cheeks before wrapping you more fully into his arms. “I take back what I said,” you mumble into his chest, exhaustion creeping in as the steady beat of his heart starts to lull you to sleep. “What are you on about now?” he asks, but the fondness in his tone belies the harshness of his words. “You’re fucking amazing at apologies,” you mumble. “Shut up and go to sleep dumbass,” he replies but you can practically hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Goodnight Katsuki.”

“Goodnight Princess.”

A/N: Apologies are difficult for Bakugo. He’s a very actions speak louder than words kinda guy. Also as funny a trope as the whole “forced to share one bed at a hotel/motel cause there are no other rooms” trope is, it’s more meaningful to me if there are two beds and they still choose to share.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Silly Little Symphony - Bakugou Katsuki

Track 1: Paralyzer- Finger Eleven

—/—

Bakugou is not a fan of half-assing things.

He hates it, despises it actually. Bakugou feels like anything worth doing deserves 100% effort, and if you give it any less than that you might as well not even attempt it in the first place. That’s his motto and that’s what he sticks with and that’s what he’s doing right now, too. Obviously.

Except- why does it feel like he has to convince himself?

It’s like there’s this lingering feeling in his mind that he’s taking the easy way out. That he’s taking the cheater’s way out, but it’s- there’s just no other choice, alright?

Bakugou knows he’s a brave guy, knows that he could shred anything he set his sights on, but by that very same logic, he’s knows even more that he’s not a very soft guy. His feelings for you are his feelings, and yes he might acknowledge them, but that doesn’t mean he could ever communicate them delicately. Even when he runs fantasy scenarios in his head, the words still come out all wrong. They’re too loud and too brash and too forceful and you always end up offended.

Bakugou doesn’t want you to end up offended- at leasy more than you already have. So, he quickly decided on a different method of communication.

A playlist.

A playlist full of songs that convey what he’s been wanting to, but also sound angry and scary and tough- because he’s a tough guy who listens to nothing but rock and punk and metal, and has definitely has not searched up songs with your name in the title before, and has definitely not then added those songs to his library. Because that’s ridiculous and soft, and like determined before, Bakugou Katsuki is not soft.

What he actually is, is a guy with a playlist full of specially-curated songs. And a guy with absolutely no idea how to give them to you.

The thing is, he’s read manga and watched movies and read all sorts of articles about these types of confessions (not that he’d ever admit that), but none of those felt like him. He was not a smooth talker or a brazen flirt or even just a kind guy- no, Bakugou was mean and loud, and he knew full well that he’d much sooner be cast as the antagonist than the romantic lead.

So all of that was a problem, and then you also currently didn’t even like him. You made it very clear, though every sneer and comment and biting comeback, that only feeling you held for him was begrudging respect- and even that was only on the battlefield. Once he stepped out of the hero uniform than you were back to hating him, and he only made it worse with every childish insult he threw your way. Bakugou knew it was a stupid way to get your attention, but it was also the most efficient one; and he was a man of efficiency.

So that left him here- pining the same way he had been for weeks, staring down into a playlist full of songs he couldn’t figure out how to play for you.

He sneaks a look at you, red eyes just barely skimming over top of the bus seats. You’re sitting a few rows ahead, sharing a snack with Tsuyu.

Bakugou thinks you’re stupid. He thinks you’re stupid for eating junk food right before a day of training, and he thinks you’re stupid for choosing to sit all the way in front like a nerd, and most of all he thinks you’re stupid for sharing your snack with that damn frog face when he’s right there. And obviously much better in every comparable, concievable way. Obviously.

Bakugou presses his headphones more securely into ears, and slouches down deep into his seat. All he can see now is the back of the seat, and he thinks that’s a better alternative. At least it won’t piss him off- not like the sight of you, sitting up front and laughing where he can’t hear, will.

With a grunt, he hits shuffle on his playlist, turning the volume to max. He closes his eyes dropping his head against the window. Drum fills and a guitar riff flood his ears, and he’s relaxing a bit, sinking into the sound, and all is well and good until-

Well just look at that girl with the lights coming up in her eyes. She's got to be somebody's baby.

God dammit.

Fuck Phantom Planet. Bakugou thinks. Fuck them.

Then he’s growling as he hits the skip button, throwing his phone onto the seat next to him.

—/—

As it turns out, all Bakugou needed was to beat the ever-loving shit out of something.

Cracking his palms and shaking his limbs, Bakugou launches at another robot. He thinks the machines feel weak under his explosions, almost offensively feeble in their construction. Like all of U.A’s staff went braindead that morning- like they couldn’t even bother to cook him up a worthy opponent.

When Bakugou looks around, that’s clearly not a shared statement. There’s the usual standouts of course, stupid deku and stupid icyhot and even stupid dunce face is doing well for once, but the rest of them are average. Mediocre. Completely and utterly inferior to him- and then you enter.

Your quirk, blink, is a bit useless in this scenario, but you’re not letting that stop you. There’s purpose in your movements, quick and controlled actions as you strap your home-made bombs around the base of each robot’s leg. Machines don’t blink, so you’re shit out of luck for your main speed ability, but your training makes up the difference. With practiced ease you’ve darted out from beneath the robot’s feet, and then you’re hitting the detonate on your remote.

Bakugou thinks you look unreasonably fucking cool as you sprint away from the blast. So cool in fact, that he might even consider your tech explosions as cool as his quirk ones. Maybe.

Bakugou wipes his palms, muffling a yawn. He’d blown up all his assigned robots ages ago, and now was left kicking rocks and generally doing nothing.

This training was supposed to act as a benchmark test- the idea was to drop a similar opponent into the ring, one that emulated the entrance exam, to test how far everyone had come since the beginning of the semester. It could’ve been good in theory, but Bakugou thought it was just a waste of time. Robot’s were easy for him then and they sure as hell were easy for him now.

Still though, he was the first one to kill all his robots, so not all was lost. Bakugou still walked away a winner and that meant he was feeling much better than earlier.

Smirking with shameless pride, Bakugou saunted to the exit area. More students began to file in after him, and he kept mostly quiet, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when you walked past him.

“Fuckin’ fifth? With your overpowered-ass quirk?” He sneers, voice loud. “Waste of talent.”

Bakugou watches spin on your heels, watches your face melt into something deadly. You’re storming towards him, and he can’t even think past hoping you’d get a little closer.

“Robot’s don’t fucking blink, you jackass.” You’re red in the face and glaring, hands curling into fists at your sides. “You try getting. anything done without your quirk. Asshole.”

Then you’re stomping away, hardly giving him a second look as you cheer on your friends.

Bakugou can’t even begin to decipher what possessed him, to say those words, but he’s also not surprised. His words always come out wrong and he can’t say anything nice without wanting to scratch away his skin.

What he really wanted to say was that you were impressive even without your quirk. That you were admirably smart and tactical and well-prepared with your own bombs, and he thought that you looked really hot sprinting away from the wreckage- but that’s not what he said. Of course that’s not what he said.

Well, there goes his good mood. No amount of previous wins could ever distract him from how much of a loss that interaction was.

Eventually the rest of the class finishes, and then they’re all gathering breathless and tired back to the bus. Unfortunately, Kaminari fried himself completely and Mineta managed to break an ankle and that meant that they needed their own seats. That also meant that two people who had their own seats on the ride there, would now be sharing on the way back.

As shitty luck would have it, the class chose drawing straws as the deciding factor, and even worse than that, Bakugou got the shortest straw. The day was already shaping up to be pretty frustrating, but when you pulled the second-shortest straw it got even worse.

“We can always share instead, L/n!” Tsuyu’s says, hand on your shoulder and voice mediating. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Bakugou watched you sigh for a moment, and then you’re turning your head towards him. Your eyes meet his and Bakugou can’t help the smirk that rolls across his face- you’re looking at him and paying attention to him and even if it’s just you making a point he still likes that attention. He watches you squint your eyes at him in response, voice hard and steely as you speak to Tsuyu.

“No. It’s alright. We picked staws, and fair is fair.” Your squint morphs into a glare. “And besides, I’m not gonna let that smug bastard throw a fit into getting out of this.”

The statement should piss him off, and if anyone else said it it would’ve, but Bakugou finds it does the opposite. It just reaffirms how brave you are and how you’re not scared of him like everyone else is and how much he likes you for it- not that he’d ever tell you any of those things.

To save face, Bakugou instead pretends to be pissed about your words, his palms popping and crackling as he glares right back. He hopes it looks like a genuine threat and not a panic reaction, because really he just thinks you look so cool talking back to him directly like that and he definitely doesn’t know what to do with that. So instead he does what always works; what always makes him feel better when he gets a feeling too big to handle- he preps to blow shit up.

“Calm down, man. It’s just a seat.” Kirishima comes up behind him, pressing a water bottle into Bakugou’s crackling palms. “Here, take this and please don’t blow up the bus. Or L/n. That’d be so totally not heroic of you.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“No I’m serious, dude. Chill out, okay? L/n’s actually pretty nice once you get to know her.”

“I said, shut the hell up, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou barks, gritting his teeth.

Then he’s shoving his palms into his pockets, leaving Kirishima and the water behind, and stalking towards the bus before anyone else does. Bakugou figures that if he’s got to share a seat, then at least he’s going to be the one sat next to the window. He’ll make sure of it.

Still, there’s something sitting heavy in his stomach though- how does Kirishima know you’re nice?

The comment made his blood boil. Bakugou thinks it’s strange because usually he’s pretty tolerant of his friend, and even finds himself enjoying his company sometimes, but those words pissed Bakugou off. Pissed him off a lot.

”Wow, don’t look so goddamn thrilled.” You say sardonically, and Bakugou watches you drop into the seat next to him. “Might accidentally think you tolerate me, blasty.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. Useless extra.”

Bakugou wants to smash his head into a wall- because why the fuck did he just say that?

Oh yeah, because apparently his jealousy was plastered all over his face, clear enough for you to comment on it. And even if you didn’t know that’s what the expression was, he’d still rather bite your head clean off than admit it was there in the first place.

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t want to fight.” You say, clenching your jaw as you settle back into the seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for both of us if we don’t talk, so I’ll just sit here and not bother you, alright?”

“Fine. Shut the hell up then.”

Once again, Bakugou wants to obliterate himself.

He doesn’t know why he can’t just tell you- why he can’t just say that he wants you to keep talking to him and that he wants you to keep snarking back at him. Why he can’t just say that he thinks your voice is one of the least grating ones in the whole class.

He thinks all of those things, but says none. Instead he keeps a fist clenched as his sides, scowling as he pulls out his headphones. He makes an intentional effort not to play your playlist and instead hits shuffle on all his music. He’d hoped that the loud drums and guitars would settle his emotions, but they didn’t. Nearly 10 minutes have passed and Bakugou’s as riled up as ever, but he’s also now completely convinced you’re trying to kill him.

You’re shifting in your seat, your arms extending out as you slip on your jacket. There’s little room, and every time you shuffle the sleeves to adjust them, you’re knocking your shoulders into his.

Then you stop.

You just stop and you go still and his skin isn’t tingling anymore and Bakugou is all kinds of pissed all over again. Because of you he’s nervous and flustered and you have the audacity to just sit there, unaffected. He has to snarl just to keep himself from blushing when he speaks.

“Why the fuck were you touching me?”

“It’s a small seat and I was putting on a jacket.” You reply, short and clipped. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

“Tch. Just don’t do it again. And shut up the fuck up already.”

“You- you talked to me first!”

“And? Who the fuck cares?” Bakugou grunts, turning the volume of his music up. “Now shut up.”

Jesus christ. Bakugou thinks to himself. Maybe I should just blow myself up for once.

Another few minutes pass, and Bakugou swears he’s really is dying. You’re still so close to him and he’s feeling very, very flustered, and while he doesn’t love the idea that you’re mad at him, he can’t say he hates the look on your face right now either. You’ve got your jaw clenched and your eyebrows set low and your hands are balled into fists as you steadfastly ignore him. Bakugou thinks you look scary- fucking terrifying.

He likes terrifying.

“Hey.” You suddenly nudge him with your shoulder, pointing to his earbuds. “I can hear it- your music. Turn it down.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because that’s basic courtesy.”

“What the fuck makes you think I have that, hah?”

“Oh my god, you’re fucking impossible.” You rolls your eyes, heaving a frustrated sigh. “Listen, if you’re gonna keep it up that loud then at least skip that song. It’s shit.”

Bakugou glances down at his screen.

Fucking Nickleback.

Jesus, could his day get any worse?

“Shut the hell up.” He snaps, squinting his eyes. “What the fuck do you know about good music? You don’t know shit.”

“I know that song sucks, so skip it. If you’re gonna accost me with loud music at least make it good.” You bite back, and then Bakugou watches as your face melts into an easy smirk. “Unless... all your music is that terrible?”

“Sounds like you’re pickin’ a fuckin’ fight!”

“I am, you asshole!”

Bakugou doesn’t know when the two of you got so close, but now you’re only inches away. He’s got his palms up and you’ve got your lips pulled back into a snarl and suddenly the bus seat seems so much smaller. It’s so much smaller and all Bakugou can think about is the red in your cheeks and the fire in your eyes and how much he likes the sight of both.

“Just skip the song or turn it down.” You finally huff, falling back in your seat, and all Bakugou can think about is how that breathe would’ve been on his cheek if it was two seconds ago.

Bakugou is mad. He’s mad at you and your stupid witch powers that leave the air feeling cold and your stupid breaths that he can’t stop focusing on and your stupid comment. Your stupid comment that had his blood burning in his veins and irritation settling in his temple.

Bakugou listened to cool music, okay? Cool, loud music for cool, loud guys. You just insulted that, insulted him so this wasn’t just a means of confessing feelings anymore, it was a pride thing and that’s why he says what he said next. It’s definitely not because this was the golden chance he’d been waiting for.

“My music is fuckin’ good.” He growls, and then he’s yanking an earbud out and shoving it towards you. “I’ll fucking show you. Now shut up and listen.”

“So goddamn pushy, jesus.”

“You gonna fuckin’ take it or not?”

“Oh my god. Fine.”

Bakugou watches you fit the earbud into your ear, his mouth set into a determined line. He knew he’d fucked up every other part of this conversation, monumentally fucked them up even, but he wouldn’t mess this up. He was prepared and this was the chance he was waiting for. Only an absolute idiot could mess this up and Bakugou Katsuki was not an idiot.

So he plays the first song he’d added to your playlist. Paralyzer.

To his surprise, you start nodding your head almost immeadiately. You know this song. The drum fill starts and then you’re looking over at him, giving him the tiniest little smirk of approval.

“Not bad, blasty.”

“Fucking told ya.” He can’t help the pride that swells in him at your validation. It’s warm and heavy in his chest, nearly drawing a smile out of him- and then he remembers he’s supposed to be mad. “And I told you, don’t fucking call me that.”

“I’ll call you by your name when you call me by mine.”

“Wipe the smirk off your stupid fucking face,” Bakugou growls. “Or I’ll blast it off.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes! Fuckin’ try me, extra!”

“Okay.” You huff a laugh at him. “Don’t blink then. Champ.”

Then you’re raising your hand, shoving it in his face and snapping before he can stop you. Bakugou flinches out of reflex and by the time he’s opened his eyes, you’ve already used your super-speed ability.

You’re sitting back against the seat, calm and collected and smirking, with both of Bakugou’s earbuds in your ears. You’ve got his phone in your hand and he watches you twist the cord around your finger, cross your legs casually and he’s stunned. He’s pissed that you got the better of him, but he also just really thinks you’re hot when you’ve won. He watches in dazed silence as you turn up the volume on his phone to max.

Well I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move because you're standing still.

Bakugou decides two things in that moment: One, he fucking hates Finger Eleven. And two, he wants to blow the entire fucking bus to smithereens.

—/—

eee i hope u all enjoy, but especially u @bakugouswh0r3 and @definitelynottrin :))

[uwuwriting]

Momo, Mina, Jirou and Uraraka with a soft, affectionate girlfriend

So there wasn’t only one request for my girls here, there were like five so imma just improvise with the summary here, Basically how the girls would be like with an affectionate and cute/soft girlfriend. Ya know my bi ass has had a crush on Mina since day 1 and Momo can like step on me. I haven’t written anything for our girl squad like ever and that should be a crime. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

masterlist

warnings: fluff 

Momo Yaoyorozu

-Soft girl herself. 

-Although she is a straight up dom, her soft girly and flustered side comes out while you two spend time together. 

-She loves your clothes, will literally have a stroke if she sees you in a soft baby pink outfits. 

-You look extra cute and soft and fluffy and oh so kissable. 

-Your bubbly personality scares her insecurities away. 

-Like if she starts doubting herself while you’re around you mind go into killer mode and roundhouse her ass for talking bad about herself. 

-She is really impressed by your emotional switch. 

-I mean she physically sees you being all lovey dovey with her and your friends, the sweetest brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced this earth and the moment Mineta opens his mouth to say some shit your aura changes. 

-You can almost see the darkness that surrounds you while the grape talks. 

-A savage. 

-Although you are a really feminine individual no one should dare underestimate you. 

-She becomes an extra proud girlfriend when she sees you kick some Bakugou ass because he called you a girly extra.

-Low key scared of your berserk mode but she loves you. 

-Soft dates. 

-She knows you love colorful flowers and you are generally really closely connected with nature so dates to the park or to the cherry blossoms during spring are necessary. 

-Her family loves you. 

-They welcomed you with open arms the very first time you stepped in their home as Momo’s friend. 

-Her mom could see how much her daughter liked you and she shipped it. 

-Her and Mina are your number 1 stans. 

-Expect to be spoiled to death. 

-You glance at a dress while you two are out on a date? 

-Its in your closet the very next day. 

-You bake for her and she falls even deeper in love with you. 

-She’s weak for your cakes and more often than not she will sneak some into her room. 

-Your cuddling powers are out of this world. 

-She will come to your dorm after a long day and just lose herself in your embrace. 

-She only sleeps in your room if you ask her to stay the night. 

-Despite how tired she may be she will pick herself up and drag her feet to her room. 

-All in all a wholesome relationship.

-Soft babiesss 

Mina Ashido

-Ah yes my wife.

-I’m a freaking simp for her. 

-Crack heads.

-Periodt.

-She loves your soft girly aesthetic and even tries to copy your style so you could be matching girlfriends. 

-The pink becomes too much though so she settles for different colors. 

-You propose white and pale green. 

-She takes your advice and goes out the very same day for shopping. 

-Dragging you, Jirou, Sero and Denki along. 

-Your friend group is fed up with how clingy she could be. 

-Like legit she will hang from your arm constantly and will whine if you have to leave her behind because reasons. 

-Bakugou is this close ( -><-) to blasting her into the next dimension. 

-She is a scaredy cat and jumps at the smallest sound. 

-You take that in your advantage and take up the rule as the knight in shining armor. 

-Movie nights are usually horror nights for the two of you and you always puff up your chest in an attempt to appear tough. 

-The pink accessories kinda ruin it though. 

-She finds it funny how you talk about beating someone’s ass while you are wearing a unicorn onesie. 

-She has a matching one though so sh isn’t one to talk. 

-Just like Momo she is scarred of your berserk mode. 

-Not scarred for her life but for the rest of the class. 

-And god forbid Mineta says something about her. 

-She can see the raging flames growing around you as he continues to go on about how hot it must be to be sandwiched between you two. 

-She has to hold you back from bashing his face in. 

-Although if he pushes it too much she lets you go and mayhem ensues. 

-She really enjoys your cooking. 

-Always present when you are baking for two reasons. 

- A) to eat some of the batter because its delicious. 

- B) to tease you and make a mess.

-She tried cooking along side you once but it was a disaster. 

-Her excuse was that you were too pretty so you distracted her. 

-She used salt instead of sugar. 

- “They’re both white baby!!”

- “So is cocaine you dummy.”

- “We have cocaine?”

-Face palm. 

-She won’t leave your room if you begin to cuddle. 

-Begin is a strong word considering she won’t allow you to let her go. 

-So continue suits this situation more. 

-She doesn’t care how you two cuddle as long as she has you in her arms or vice versa. 

-Wrapping her arms around your waist while you study, placing you in her lap while she games with Sero, laying you on top of her so you can fall asleep after a long day or simply holding your hand. 

-She just wants to feel close to you. 

-The closer the better. 

-Says I love you at least three times a day.

-I want my Mina!!!!

Jirou Kyouka

-Music girlfriends.

-She has a whole song dedicated to you. 

-She even sang it during the UA festival. 

-You are really into lofi music and really soft, fluffy songs so she makes you a playlist with her favorite lofi songs. 

-She loves when you hum along with her. 

-She knows you have a good voice but since you don’t feel comfortable singing she doesn’t push it. 

-Stands there and sways along with the rhythm.

-Swears that when you do sing you  become an angel on earth.

-Blinding brightness. 

-Finds it funny how your aesthetics collide. 

-There you are the softy pink fairy full of flowers and sunshine. 

-And next to you stands Jirou, her dark clothes making a big contrast to your baby pink skirt. 

-You adore the difference and make it your mission to dress as brightly as possible making the difference stand out even more. 

-You make her bentos like daily. 

-Really appreciates it. 

-She doesn’t have to wait for lunch. 

-Plus your cooking is wow. 

-She doesn’t really like shopping but will come with you if you want her to. 

-Any time spent with you is enough for her. 

-She spends most of her time at the guitar store lol. 

-You bought her a new guitar for her birthday and you made her cry. 

-It had her initials on it too. 

-You walk to class together every morning and go back to the dorms holding hands. 

-Says a sweet little I love you when you part ways for your training. 

-Scared for her life when you get mad. 

-That sinister smile that spreads across your face when you hear Mineta say something about her boobs is the scariest sight in the whole world. 

-Screw Shigaraki. 

-You can be the new master of evil with that smile.

-You are not violent though so she doesn’t have to hold you back... physically. 

-Your words can be true venom. 

-She has to clam you down before you make Mineta cry. 

-Could kill for your cuddles. 

-Doesn’t like to admit it but she really loves being the little spoon and would just nudge you without speaking.

-You of course get the message and hug your girl. 

-She is surprised by how strong you are. 

-You can lift her while she clinges to your front or back like she weighs nothing. 

-Walks around with Jirou wrapped around your torso like a koala. 

-She loves it, you love it everyone else finds it kinda weird when they spot you but who cares? 

-Spends the night in your dorm regularly. 

-She doesn’t even ask she just falls asleep in your bed, taking all the space and making you squeeze between the wall and her. 

-Lovely little sweethearts. 

Uraraka Ochako

-Um you are being soft together. 

-Soft girlfriends™.

-You share clothes all the time since your aesthetics kinda match. 

-You two can be demons if provoked. 

-A third party has to intervene if someone insults you and you go into protective mode. 

-You both get that dark look in your eyes as you stare down at Mineta. 

-Really she’ll just through him up into the sky and you’ll use your quirk to send him to America. 

-Deku and Iida protect the class from you.

-In general though, when you aren’t being feral beasts sworn to protect the innocent, you are two little angels. 

-Your soft aesthetic completes her perfectly and your caring nature goes hand in hand with her mom-friend tendencies. 

-Caring girlfriends. 

-You babysit Deku together and take care of him when he starts breaking...everything. 

-She really likes training with you. 

-She finds it fun and oh so attractive when you are coming at her. 

-May have a small kink right there. 

-Power play maybe......

-Cooking.Dates!!!!!

-She likes to cook so when she found out that you are amazing in the kitchen she was hooked. 

-You might spend hours and hours just baking sweets and then passing them around the dorms. 

-Like Momo she only stays the night if you ask her or mention having a sleepover. 

-Otherwise she will gather her stuff and go back to her room. 

-Cuddles cuddles cuddles. 

-You are obsessed. 

-She is so soft to the touch and you fall asleep instantly.

-She loves it when you fall asleep on her. 

-You’re like her wittle baby. 

-Holding hands is a must wherever you are. 

-Walking to class? linked pinkies.

-Out on a date? Intertwined fingers.

-Hanging out in the common room watching a movie with the rest of the class? Linked elbows. 

-Chilling in your dorm? An arm around her shoulder. 

-Really touchy in general. 

-Not too touchy though because she respects the others around you. 

-Plus you are friends with Iida.

-He will push you apart if he sees you remotely kissing her cheek. 

-Class 1-A’s favorite couple. 

-So freaking cute omggggg.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​

[agntofhydra]

Sawbones // SIX

(gif credit) 

summary: Red String of Fate Soulmate AU

Soul mates have a red thread tied to each others pinkies that only one of them can see.

You’re the Resistance’s head medic. You can see the red thread of fate that leads you to your soulmate. Poe doesn’t believe in the soulmate / thread theory. You don’t agree with his tactics, nor does he approve of yours. Leia and Holdo just really want a win.

pairing: poe dameron x reader

rating: mature for later chapters

read me on ao3!

the masterlist  |  the playlist

read on till the end for notes!

CONTENT WARNING: this chapter contains drug use and more swearing than usual. 

SAWBONES // SIX

CALM DOWN, STARBOY. 

You’d surprised yourself, honestly. 

Maybe you were cut out for politics - the way you were able to stand in line with Poe and the Generals, keep your face blank and greet the new recruits without a scowl? It was nothing short of impressive. For you and Poe to stand shoulder to shoulder, his hands clasped behind him while yours were clasped in front, and not glance down at the stupid fucking string and notice that it was probably the shortest it’s ever been entitled you to an award. Maybe a nice vacation, off base? For the entirety of this training? 

That would be nice. 

You half expected Poe to jump into her arms, like people often did when their significant others returned from a flight. He didn’t. In fact, Poe’s expression did not crack from it’s diplomatic mask. Shoulders back, jaw clenched and chin out, Poe scanned the pilots as they left their ships, and you couldn’t help but watch him from the corner of your eye. Poe now diametrically opposed who he had been in your office, his stupid smile now a faint memory. 

Diplomatic, political Poe was one you hadn’t met nor seen in person. 

Diplomatic, political Poe was hot. 

Poe’s posture elongated his spine, jutted his chest out and brought forth his collar bones. Your eyes once again traced his gold chain. 

Maybe you didn’t deserve all the praise you’d previously granted yourself as you openly ogled the man next to you. But Poe was your soulmate. It granted you an ogle pass, whether or not both parties were aware. 

The pilots had lined up, helmets off and tucked under their arms. They were the perfect image, the very epitome of what people would want to see on Resistance banners. You’d purposely not remembered their names in spite. You were the Head Medic of the Resistance - they should have to introduce themselves to you.

Leia greeted them, her words sounded garbled as your eyes met the infamous Scoria Tane. She stood tall, her long white hair in a loose french braid. Her chestnut skin seemingly unmarred with such trivial marks like pores. You felt the breath leave your chest as her eyes flitted over to meet Poe’s. No matter how brief, you still caught it. You couldn’t feel any change in Poe’s demeanor, but you didn’t want to chance glancing over to see if there was a smile on his face. No need to put salt in an already festering wound. 

“This is our head medic,” Leia introduced you. Your head turned to hers before returning back to the recruits with a small nod. You were really mucking up your air of superiority. 

Besides Scoria, there was only one other human. And he was staring at you. 

“It’s an honor to be here, Generals,” the man spoke up, his eyes momentarily leaving your figure to address Holo, Ackbar and Leia. “It seems like a large base. I don’t know about my fellow pilots, but I would love a tour.” His eyes were back on you. 

“I’m sure Commander Dameron would be more than willing to accommodate you, Commander Ancin,” Holo nodded. 

Ancin smiled slightly. “Doctor, would you have the time?” 

You had been trying very hard not to meet his gaze, but his lack of subtlety forced your hand. However, Poe had beaten you to a response. 

“She’s very busy,” he cleared his throat. “Still has to conduct your physicals and stress tests. I am more than willing to give you a tour,” his tone was clipped. 

Ancin didn’t even spare Poe a glance, and you saw Poe clench his hands from behind his back out of your peripheral vision. You desperately wanted to pause time, to knock your shoulders or nudge him with your elbow. But you couldn’t, not with the audience in front of you. 

“It’s fine, Commander Dameron. I’m sure I could spare some time,” you responded, feeling like your skin was on fire. No doubt the white of your coat further contrasted the fact that your face was also on fire. 

“Great,” Ancin switched his helmet to the other arm. “Can we begin now?” He turned to Leia quickly. “My apologies, unless there was more to be discussed?” 

Leia gave him a tight smile. “The specifics can be gone over later.”

Ancin nodded before breaking formation with his fellow pilots and grabbing your arm. “Shall we, Doc?” 

If you would’ve had the time to turn your head as Ancin grabbed you, you would’ve seen the way Poe clenched his jaw impossibly tight and watched as the Coruscant’s pilot Commander dragged you away. If you would’ve perhaps taken the time to drag your eyes away from Poe’s chest and face earlier, you would’ve noticed that since the beginning of this whole situation, Poe had been slowly dragging the pointer finger of his right hand over the base of his left pinky. 

If you did, maybe you wouldn’t have agreed to showing someone around a base you barely knew yourself. 

“I’m going to apologize in advance,” you began, subtly removing your arm from his grip. “I don’t really know the base that well either. I know hangars, cafeteria and meeting room. But only in relation to the medbay.” 

“That’s okay,” he smiled down at you. “We can figure it out together.”

You hadn’t forced yourself to memorize the names of the pilots, but hearing Ancin jogged your memory from when you had skimmed their files. You were pretty sure his first name was Cane, and if the galaxy could pick one person to represent them, it would probably be him. 

Cane Ancin was objectively gorgeous. He was tall, several inches taller than you and most likely Poe, too. His cheekbones and jawline were sharp, and you remembered bitterly that he must be ridiculously fit, because he had one of the lowest resting heart rates you’d ever seen. He was broad, and his curls rivaled Poe’s. You outwardly winced at the comparison. 

“Something wrong?” he asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. You tried not to shrug it off. 

“Nothing. Just uh, remembering all the stuff I have to do back in the medbay.” 

Cane wasn’t bothered. “Let’s start moving then, yeah?”

The two of you had continued walking for a couple of paces, Cane watching you out of the corner of his eye, not even bothering to take account of where the two of you were. 

Fleetingly, you wondered if the base would be able to accommodate both Cane and Poe’s ego. 

“Why did you want me to give you a tour?” you asked, his silent watching pushing you to the brink. 

Cane shrugged. “Is it a crime to ask a beautiful woman to show me around?” 

You blinked at him. 

“Tell me,” his voice viscous like honey. He increased his stride so he could stand in front of you, abruptly stopping your movement. Throwing civility to the wind, you openly scowled. 

“Can you see your thread?” 

You wanted to roll your eyes. Could you have a conversation about literally anything else or was the soulmate tether your whole life now? You couldn’t work, sleep, or even eat without thinking about it. You’d never piloted one before, but you were sure that you could figure out how to steer an x-wing into oblivion. Sure, you had two of the best pilots in the galaxy on base that would catch your ass in no time, but it was nice to pretend that they couldn’t. 

Cane looked you up and down slowly. You weren’t exactly sure  what  he was looking at. Your boots, black leggings and white coat buttoned up to your throat didn’t really emanate sexy, but this guy was weird. It probably did seem sexy to him. Your scowl deepened. 

“I can see mine,” he drawled. Now would’ve been a great moment for one of your infamous ‘i’m gonna be sick’  moments. “And let me tell you, I like where it leads.” 

You snorted. “Calm down, starboy. I can see mine, too.”

Cane deflated. 

“Does that actually work? Do you get people with that?” you questioned, tapping on your chin. “Even on a few shots of fire-water I still don’t think I would’ve fell for it.”

Cane didn’t stay off-guard for long - after you were done speaking, he let out a laugh and held his hands up as if to say, ‘well, I tried.’

“It does sometimes,” he said. “The addition of fire-water does seem to increase the chances, though I figured I would try it with you regardless.” 

“You pilots are always so risky,” the two of you fell into step again. The tension seemed to have dissipated instantly. “Always shoot first, ask questions later.” 

“You speak from experience,” Cane raised an eyebrow. 

“Do you know how many pilots end up in my medbay because of that mentality?” You shook your head. “Craziest beings in the galaxy, I swear.” 

“Dameron is the worst of us,” he responded, and you didn’t miss the way his expression steeled. You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“Commander of the Resistance? You really trust that guy?” 

You narrowed your eyes, the words your brain wanted to speak in defense of Poe stilled at the tip of your tongue. You didn’t expect someone to join the ‘I hate Poe Dameron’ club, but as soon as it crossed your mind, you realized you weren’t even part of that club. You were in the ‘I hate loving Poe Dameron’ club. President of the ‘My soulmate is a douche but it’s totally my fault’ club. 

You could go on. 

“What’s your issue with Poe?” you asked. 

“Typical he hasn’t mentioned me,” Cane scratched his bare jaw. It made you realize you preferred stubble. “He’s just...not the guy you all think he is.” 

“Don’t be vague,” you said, annoyed. 

“The guy just...he’s not this straight-laced, hero of the Resistance. Hell, I haven’t even been here a day and I can tell the whole base fucking worships him, and for what?” 

“For being a good pilot?” you answered what was most likely a rhetorical question. “For risking his life every time he gets in that ship, getting us First Order intel and directly playing a role in saving the galaxy?” You were getting angrier by the second. Whatever past he had with Poe, you didn’t care about it. 

“Might I remind you it’s the same galaxy that you and I both live in? We all have shit we’ve done in the past. How we move on from it defines us.” You stopped yourself before saying something you would regret, revealing too much to a man you didn’t know. And honestly? You didn’t care to. 

You continued when Cane stayed silent. 

“You don’t have skeletons in the closet? If you know Poe’s, I’m sure he knows yours.” 

You turned to him, conveniently stopped outside of the double doors to your medbay. The harsh fluorescents illuminated Cane’s face, exposing the conflict and discord written all over his features. Whatever thoughts were floating in his head made you feel uneasy, as though you were teetering on a tightrope. Cane didn’t meet your gaze, instead he chose to finally notice his surroundings. 

He inhaled deeply and exhaled for longer. You waited patiently. 

“I’ll see you around for my tests, Doc.” Cane continued to walk down the hallway, and you fought the urge to point out that it was the opposite direction he needed to go. ...right?

You couldn’t dwell on your mediocre sense of direction before you heard the whoosh of air form the double doors opening and FX-7’s bulky metal frame towering over you.  Droid or not, you could feel the disapproval from the lit, annular holes in its head as they bored into your back.

“You have plenty to do,” was all the droid said before it retreated back into the medbay.

✗ ✗ ✗

  Yes, you had plenty to do. So much so that it took you up until early morning to finish. It was so early, (or late?) that you had recoiled when you’d checked the time.

But, as you were heading back to your quarters to catch up on sleep because you were in no rush to start taking vitals on the new recruits, your arm was caught on fire. 

Not literally, but it felt literal. Like every nerve ending was ripped from your skin, abraded and exposed. And it all originated from one point on your hand. You fought the buckle of your knees, desperately applying pressure to your pinky finger after loudly yelling a string of expletives. As you took another step in the direction of your quarters, the pain impossibly intensified. Somehow, your brain was able to act logically as you quickly retraced your last few steps. 

As you moved backwards, the pain slowly dissipated into a deep throb, coming from both your hand and somehow your chest? You inspected your arm, turning over at least seven times. Your medical training had never taught you, or even touched on anything related to...whatever just happened. As you retreated back to the medbay, the pain intensified again. 

“What the fuck,” you gritted through your teeth. Stepping back from the double doors, you continued forward. And for the next few minutes, you continued like that. Walking and retracing your steps, following the path that didn’t beset your body in so much agony your vision went white.  

In your course around the base, you were at a junction you’d never been to previously. To your left, the hallway led out to the runway and to your right, a dead end. However, a few experimental steps in either direction revealed that your phantom arm pain was directing you straight forward. 

Honestly, fuck the galaxy, you sized up the door in front of you. Whatever forces were at work right now, pulling your sensory nerves like strings on a marionette could fuck off. Sending you to weird parts of the base that you’d never been to (it could’ve been a common area actually, you never really explored) and sending you to a blank, durasteel door? Another healthy dose of fire shot up your spinal cord. 

“The thread is sentient,” you tried to catch your breath. “All of the past soulmates in the galaxy have joined together to kill me.” 

Rationally, there was no way you were correct but you were running on empty and had been updating the files on the pilots until you thought your retinas would burn out. Maybe this was a dream? You could definitely be dreaming. 

Shaking out your right arm, you bounced back and forth on either foot. You were going to go through this mystery door. Enter the mystery door that didn’t make your arm feel like the thread was pulling tight between your arm and torso as if to amputate it. Yes.

Before your mind could bitch out, your muscles pushed your legs forward by reflex - acting before the brain could process. Your hand pulling down on the handle, a component most doors on the base didn’t have. 

Blue. 

Your entire field of vision was met with a murky swirl of blue. The room was of decent size, maybe slightly smaller than your office. From what you could see, it looked like a storage room. The walls were lined with shelves that contained extra orange jumpsuits, helmets, blankets and clothes of all sorts. In your pursuit of orienting yourself, you disregarded the figure sitting on the ground against the wall opposite you.

 With one leg forward and the other bent at the knee, the source of the smoke dangled loosely between the fingers of Poe Dameron. 

But you didn’t realize that yet, because it was dark and hazy and you were confused and what was that smell?  The acrid fumes were coupled with an odor that was almost...sweet? No. Tart felt like the better word. Sharp and sour and sitting on your tastebuds. 

As Poe dragged on the stick in his hand, the embers that burned at the end burned brighter and attracted your eyes. Then, you noticed him. 

“Dameron?” you squinted through the smoke, trying to swat it out of your vision. “Are you seriously smoking spice right now?”

In your confusion and disbelief, you didn’t notice how the throbbing from the remnants of pain in your arm had become an amalgamation of both the lingering pain and a new, warmer sensation. Pleasure.

“I’m surprised you know what this is,” he blew out a long stream. 

You tried not to scoff. “I was a teenager once, too.” 

He was silent for a moment before lazily motioning with the hand that held the joint to the spot next to him. With a concerning lack of reluctance you’d think on later, you sat down next to him. 

“My entire left arm has been killing me all day,” he took another hit. You frowned as he blew the smoke out at you. 

“So weird that there isn’t someone on base that could do something about that,” you replied casually, but your mind was spinning. His arm was hurting too? What the hell was going on?

He shook his head, ignoring your response and offered you the joint instead. Surprising both him and yourself, you took it, rotating it in your hand. 

“Take a hit,” Poe urged. “You can turn off your doctor-mode for one seco -  are you really inspecting it right now?”

You looked at him, confused. “Um, yes? Why are you inhaling this when you don’t even know what it’s made of?” 

Poe blinked at you, albeit much slower than usual. “To get high.”

You tapped the ashes into the palm of your hand, then handed the spice back to him. His hand slowly, meticulously took it from your grip and brought it back to his lips. Rubbing the ashes with your pointer finger in your palm, you brought the fine, cerulean powder to your eyes, studying it before lightly placing your finger on your tongue. Poe’s eyes tracked every movement. 

“It’s similar to Ryll,” you noted. “An ore from Ryloth. It’s usually used medicinally, but it can be refined into some good fucking spice.”

“You’ve smoked spice?” 

You took the object in question from his grip, putting it between your lips and taking a deep inhale. Holding it, you smirked at him. You laughed while exhaling, your lungs somewhat relishing in the sweet burn you hadn’t felt in years. 

“Medical school was hard.”

“That’s…” Poe’s eyebrows twisted as he tried to find the words, “so...normal? Of you?” 

“Thanks?”

Poe leaned his head back against the wall. “You’re always the head medic, the doctor of the Resistance. You make it really hard to get to know you outside of that. Is there someone beneath the white coat?” 

You took another hit to avoid answering and Poe had no issue in continuing. 

“I had to ask that engineer you always hang out with,” he paused, thinking hard to remember Jasti’s name before giving up and continuing, “what your actual name was. The people I asked before didn’t know.” 

“Everyone calls me Doc. I don’t mind it.” 

“I do,” Poe snapped, uncharacteristically hostile. “Stars, I’ve made such an effort for you.” 

“An effort?” you echoed.

“To get to know you, to spend time with you. Maker, I even thought for a second - “ Nope. Poe wasn’t high enough to let that statement loose. 

But you were just high enough not to notice. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, the usual weight on your chest now heavier. “I don’t know how to act when people want to get to know me. I haven’t for a long time.” 

Poe placed the joint on the ground, letting it burn out. The two of you sat in silence, slowly inhaling and exhaling the chemicals that swirled in the air. You could feel yourself becoming heavier and weightless at the same time. Your physical sense felt light, but the burden of everything else came down heavy. 

“I hate having him here,” Poe began. “Ancin.” 

“Did you know him previously?” 

Poe swallowed thickly, and you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down. The thought crossed your mind again - the sensitivity of his carotid. It would be so easy for you to find out right now, to just lean over and place a finger, or even your lips on it. That part of your brain that kept you rational and reasonable must've been short circuited by the spice because it wasn’t telling you not to find out, not reminding you of any and all consequences. For once, your brain felt quiet. 

Leaning his head back up towards you, he caught your staring but you couldn’t be bothered to look away. Maybe he was sensitive elsewhere, too. You had dated a guy from Corellia who went absolutely feral when your lips met his sternum. You wanted to find out if Poe was the same way. You wanted to place your lips on every inch of his body, test each section of skin for a quick intake of breath, a twitch, goosebumps. To feel his fingers, calloused from years of flight maneuvers and switches, testing you for sensitivity. 

In your reverie, Poe had begun to inch closer at imperceptible increments. His left hand resting flat on the ground - next to your right. His left pinky laid over your right as he leaned in, tucking some hair behind your ear to justify his proximity. His head turned, his lips now ghosting over the strip of space between the bottom of your earlobe to the joint of your jaw. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered, and you closed your eyes at the feeling of his lips brushing against you. 

“This better not be a dream again,” you said under your breath. 

Chuckling, Poe pressed his lips to your temporomandibular joint as you tilted your head, giving him full access. “Again?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Your filter was gone - your brain now occupied with the double assault of the spice and having Poe Dameron press kisses onto your skin. 

“We don’t have to talk,” he said, unbuttoning the top two buttons of your white coat to give him more access to your neck. He sucked lightly at your own pulse point, and you sucked in a breath. 

“Sensitive?”  Stars. The irony. 

“Are you?” you bit back as you brought your hand to rest on his bicep. 

“Want to find out?” he pulled back to meet your eyes. In spite of your slow movements and cloudy train of thought, you had never felt so clear, so confident in an answer. 

You licked your lips, moistening them as your hand slid up from its place on his bicep to the side of Poe’s face, stroking your thumb lightly. Poe sighed, leaning into your ministration and tangling his pinky finger with yours. You could feel the blood buzzing underneath your skin, your sympathetic nervous system sending adrenaline and epinephrine by the gallon to account for how fast your heart was racing. 

You copied his earlier movements, pressing your lips to various points along his jaw, his neck. Testing what he liked the most. When you got to your target, you boldly licked the spot up to his jaw. Poe’s hand tangled in your hair, breath shuddering. 

“That’s a yes for you, too,” you whispered with the last remnants of air in your lungs. 

Finally, your brain rejoiced through the fog. 

You continued kissing, nipping at spots here and there. At the notch between his collarbones, Poe groaned. 

“Scoria.”

You stopped. 

Pulling away, you mustered the courage to meet his eyes. The smoke of the room now felt suffocating, not intoxicating. You felt like you were being smothered, and you were now noticing the lack of fresh air in your lungs. 

Poe’s eyes met yours, too before widening. 

Your hand left his face, your pinky leaving his. The dull ache in your arm had returned. You swallowed thickly, nodding. 

“Fuck. I’m - “ Poe couldn’t straighten out his thoughts, let alone form a sentence. Very clearly in his mind, he had known it was you kissing, sucking on his neck. Her name had just..slipped out. 

“No,” you cut him off before he could formulate some half-assed excuse you didn’t want to hear. “I’m sorry. I should’ve have - I forgot about - “ You couldn’t find the words either. 

Standing, you looked down at him briefly, noting how the red thread of fucking fate bisected his torso, standing out starkly against the blue of the smoke and his button up. 

“Thanks for the spice,” you forced, before leaving the room. 

Walking down the hallway, continuing your initial course of returning to your quarters, you felt extremely sober. What else could sober you up faster than the guy whose neck you're kissing moaning out the name of another woman? 

Looking down, you quickly redid the buttons Poe had undone. 

I’m sorry? Your mind replayed the moment.  Sorry for what? Poe is yours. 

You stopped in your tracks. 

Poe was yours. Why the fuck were you embarrassed that you were indirectly kissing your soulmate? Apologizing because he was currently in the middle of wasting his time with another woman? Sure, it was girl code not to do what you had previously been doing, but soulmates were excluded from girl code. Whether or not it was indirectly (...or directly) your fault that he was with her wasn’t important. 

So, yeah. Fuck being sorry, fuck being embarrassed. You were done tiptoeing around the subject. Operation ‘Poe is my soulmate and I’m finally going to do something about it’ was a go. You couldn’t waste any more time. 

The realization that you would explode if you had to spend any more days of your life without Poe’s lips on you was completely unrelated. 

 -----

are you guys screaming? i'm screaming.

also, poe looks high af in the gif above so...i felt that it fit well. 

but what a wild rollercoaster this has been & will continue to be. I hope y'all are excited for the ride, because I am. Can't thank you guys enough for the love & support. don't be scared, share the angst with your friends!! xoxox

also!!! official sawbones playlist because i am a slut for playlists. i’ll be adding and removing, so lmk how you feel about it :) 

TAGLIST (message me to be added!)

@yayrainday @samhollandssweaters @softly-sad @rebelgeneraldameron @btillys @daydreamerinadazedworld @teaofpeach @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall @fandom-addict-aesthetics @peterwandaparker @bookaholicinwonderland @roserrys @clydesducktape @heythere-mel @justrunamok @corrupt-fvcker @lets-do-get-help @agents-assemble @idocarealot @phoenixhalliwell @afootnoteinyourhappiness @gottalovethefandom @bbuckysbeardd @stanningtoomanypeopleatonce @missreyskywalker @katrynec​ @lizajane3 @shootingstarzmagick

[tobesobri]

𝓦elcome to a brand new story from me that I never thought I would be posting but here we are! This chapter is very much introductory, which is like obvious being the first chapter but tbh I don’t really do a lot of introducing characters right off the bat in a descriptive way often so this was new for me! Also, I have an old taglist from a while ago when I was originally going to post this, but I don’t want to randomly tag people who may no longer be interested SO if you’d like to be included on a taglist for upcoming chapters please let me know! Thank you! 

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h​ for editing ❤️

Chapter One: Where Happiness Begins (5.4k)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

There was something very different when she woke that Saturday morning. Maybe her breath smelled a little worse than normal. Maybe the sun shined a little brighter through her curtains than it was supposed to...

Maybe there was someone in her bed who didn’t belong there. 

“Oh my god.”

Friday night was not unlike every other night that week. There was an endless bag of chips she dug her Hot Cheeto dust covered fingers into and an over-watched series on Netflix open on her laptop in front of her. And when she wasn’t distracted by Sam and Dean Winchester, she was bawling her eyes out under the comfort of her thrifted quilt, staining her poor mismatched pillowcases.

Just like any given night.

And this Friday was no different. At least not until there was a knock on her door.

By the time she dried her face, it was almost completely unnoticeable she’d just been buried in hysterics only seconds ago.

“Harry’s coming over. You want anything from the store?” Will asked, the same Will who stuck them all together in the very beginning of splitting rent on an apartment four different ways.

He was the roommate who paid the most in rent and got the biggest room with his own private bathroom. One of the two roommates who constantly had his significant other over every night to make Y/N’s miserable time even worse. Between Will and Violet’s incessant need to take over the entire living room every weekend, Y/N was bound to end up in her own room alone crying her eyes out for no apparent reason.

Then there was her third roommate, James, who never bothered her because she was lucky to catch a fleeting glimpse of him every other week.

Y/N glanced at the phone he had pressed to his cheek, assuming Harry was on the other end of the line, on hold. Just the mention of his name sucked every sad little tear back into her skull. She didn’t know why, but having Harry around always seemed to do the trick.

Even though she barely spoke a word to him over the course of the last eighteen months she’d known him.

She buried her excitement about Harry coming over and frowned, answering as if she was she couldn’t care less even though... she cared way more than she should. “No.”

And before Will could protest, she shut the door in his face and retreated back to her bed.

Not every night was spent in agonizing spirals of self-pity and dread, but it came and went. Some days were fine. She was happy by the time she went to bed at night and didn’t have nightmares or anxiety that kept her up past her self-proclaimed bedtime. Most days, she ate regularly and went about her nightly routine with a genuine smile on her face. But recently, it had all gone to shit.

And there was no explanation. There never was. She didn’t just break up with a long-term boyfriend. No one called her an ugly bitch on the train home. Her boss didn’t yell at her for the umpteenth time about her inadequacies at work.

She was just... alone. Painfully and tragically alone.

She hated how black and white it was. That she was either happy to be alive or praying for a very large rock to fall on her and end it all. There was never an in-between and it made her feel like all her emotions were made up, like she wasn’t ever truly happy or she was sad over really stupid things.

It was a fucking nightmare.

Another agonizing thirty minutes went by before she heard from Will again. Before she heard more than just her roommate's voice through the thin walls. Before she could literally feel her

brain swell with more serotonin than she’d had in a long time when it was Harry’s voice she heard.

He was like an unusual ray of sunshine. Every time he was over at their apartment, it was like he was some kind of ancient sun god warding off all the evil spirits sitting on her shoulders. Which...she knew was quite strange, but she really couldn’t--nor did she want to--fight off how he made her feel.

Even if he wasn’t an internationally famous pop-sensation, she still couldn’t put her finger on why he made her feel like sunshine and butterflies whenever he was around. Which had been quite often recently on account of his upcoming album needing desperate help from Will.

Okay. She hadn’t heard a damn thing from the album, but the conversations they had about it weren’t always good. It was delayed, apparently, and Harry was in the middle of a massive writing block that led him to an impromptu trip to Barcelona the previous week.

And so now he was back. To work on the album, and, upon Y/N’s quiet arrival into the kitchen of her shared apartment, to pig out on junk food. Will hovered over the kitchen island while they figured out which movie, among a small stack of romantic comedies, to watch first.

Once Harry noticed her, he instantly stood up straight, shoving the last bit of a Kit-Kat bar into his mouth quickly to hide it from her; as if she cared about the Harry Styles munching on chocolate and sweets.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked Will, even though Harry was the only one paying her any attention. She didn’t often make eye contact with him, or even speak to him at all for that matter. But Harry was used to it. He was used to her mumbling and her short phrases. The way whenever he looked at her, she always looked away.

“Pretty Woman or Notting Hill?” Will turned to her finally, holding up both DVD boxes in his hands for Y/N to choose from, completely ignoring her previous question.

“Um... I’ve never seen them.”

Will rolled his eyes and placed the Blu-Ray boxes back down on the granite countertop, “Should’ve known that. You only watch scary shit.”

It was quiet after that for a moment. A long moment of Harry awkwardly glancing between Will and Y/N. Though his glances towards her did not come easily. Just the thought of looking at her was like his body went into fight or flight mode. Fight through the nerves and the butterflies in his stomach or fly the hell out of there.

She was like an unfriendly cat who didn’t seem to like him one bit, and it drove him insane. All his attempts to have a normal conversation with her had been fruitless. She never said more than one word to him at a time. Maybe two, if she was feeling generous. He didn’t get it at all, but he got used to it. Maybe she just didn’t have any room in her life for another person and certainly not for a person like him.

“Well, I vote for Pretty Woman,” Will said, making up everyone’s minds for them, and when he glanced at the other two, they didn’t seem to care. “Pretty Woman it is then. Y/N,” Will glanced at her exclusively while he began gathering snacks and the movie, “are you watching it too?”

“Uh.. no.” She continued into the kitchen, walking behind Harry toward the fridge and making every single nerve in his body light up. He had no idea why she, of all people on the planet he’d come into contact with, made him as nervous as she did. But, here he was. Stepping out of her way and swallowing the pit in his throat when he got a whiff of her all-too-familiar coconut scented shampoo.

And that scent just about made his head spin. It took him right back to the night he’d gotten drunk off his ass after a long day of work. She’d offered her bed to him since he was too tall for their couches, and she had been up late working herself anyways. Most of the night had been forgotten, but he very distinctly remembered stuffing his face into her pillowcases and letting the scent of her shampoo completely engulf his nostrils as he fell asleep. And it took him back to the following morning where he wobbled his hungover ass to the shower and accidentally (on purpose) used her coconut scented shampoo.

And then the entire rest of the day he smelled exactly like her and hadn’t gone a single minute without thinking of her. Thinking of her soft voice and what it would feel like to hear her saying his name just once. Thinking about the way she sometimes smiled at him like maybe she didn’t hate him as much as he thought. Thinking about her hair spread over her pillowcase and tucking loose strands behind her ear while she slept peacefully beside him...

Harry was also, very, very alone.

So alone that he spent more nights at other people’s homes, particularly Will’s, than his own. Even though he had an insanely expensive house all to himself up in the gated hills of Los Angeles, it was nothing compared to being surrounded by people he cared about instead of lifeless appliances.

He blamed it on the city. It always had a way of making him feel alienated. Even if it was the city that recognized him most often, it almost made him feel even more alone than he already was. Because none of the people he met along the way really knew him. They weren’t with him at the end of the day when he broke down on the floor in his bathroom. They didn’t see the dark parts of his life where he often wished he could take it all back just to be normal again. To have normal conversations and normal relationships with people he wasn’t constantly paranoid were trying to get something out of him.

So, in a way, he understood Y/N’s unwillingness to let him in, because he did it all the time. The thing he didn’t understand was why she had any reason to worry about the people in her life. No one was out to get her money or make themselves famous off of her. But there was a reason for it anyways, and it just about killed the curious cat in his mind every time he was at her apartment and she continued to not peep a single unnecessary word to him.

By the time he and Will had settled onto their respective spots in the living room, Harry tucked back into the cushions of their armchair and Will spread out on the loveseat opposite him, Y/N had already retreated back into her bedroom with her glass of ice water.

“Think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her talk.” Harry said, while Will skipped through the outdated commercials on the DVD.

Will’s lips turned up into a very knowing grin and he nodded, “She’s always been quiet, man. I told you not to take it personally.”

“How did you get her to talk?”

That was a question Harry had never asked before out of the countless stupid ones he had in the past. The stupidest was probably when he’d first met her and then proceeded to ask Will shortly after if Y/N was mute.

Will shrugged, “I’ve known her for a long time. It’s not like she goes on and on around me either though. That’s just how she is. And she probably just doesn’t like you that much.”

Harry huffed and sat back into his chair, giving up on it. He couldn’t force her to be his friend, as much as he wanted her to be.

The movie went on without Harry because he was completely lost in his own mind, however, Will seemed to be completely enthralled with Julia Roberts. Harry just couldn’t bring himself to focus on the television screen for more than a minute at a time.

It wasn’t until he heard a door down the hall click open that he brought himself back to reality and let his eyes wander to the sound behind him as Y/N stepped quietly out from her bedroom again. He knew she was the only other roommate home tonight and, yet, he still made the mistake of looking in her direction and, fucking finally, locking eyes with her. It was brief, but it was enough to stir up the enormous pot of butterflies in his stomach again.

Without a single word, she sat on the last unoccupied piece of furniture between the both of them, Harry still in a bit of shock and Will grinning with his eyes glued to the screen.

“Changed your mind, did you?” Will asked cheekily.

“Shut up,” she mumbled back at him before reaching toward the opened bag of untouched Hershey kisses. “Can I have one of these?”

Will finally peered over at her from his spot and then glanced at Harry across the coffee table, “You’ll have to ask Harry. He brought them.”

Her hand froze and she reluctantly turned her attention toward Harry, which had been the first time since he arrived that she voluntarily looked at him. She had no fucking clue how she was going to sit there and ask Harry for one of his Hershey kisses. Or if she even wanted them desperately enough.

The question went unasked, but the look on her face said more than enough. She was already waiting for his answer. And upon seeing the look on her face, Harry couldn’t possibly find it in himself to force her to say a damn thing. So he just cleared his throat instead, “Uh, it’s alright. You can have as many as you want.”

He watched as she grabbed a couple foil sealed chocolates and settled back into the corner of her own loveseat again, never willing to admit that he’d bought them especially for her. Because it had somehow managed to become common knowledge that they were her favorite candy and while wandering the local corner market, he spotted them and thought of her. His brain at the time thought there might be some minuscule possibility that if he brought one of her favorite foods over she might eventually start to like him.

Even if that didn’t happen though, he was still reeling from that one brief moment of interaction for the entire rest of the night. Splurging on an overpriced package of cavities had been well worth it.

It wasn’t until the movie ended that both Harry and Y/N realized Will was dead asleep. That he was no longer conscious enough to use the remote resting on his chest and turn the movie off. So, after a little while of staring at the credits, Y/N stood and grabbed it, flipping the controls until she brought up regular TV channels and then eventually settled for a horror movie Harry had never seen and had no intentions to. But, if it meant he got more time with Y/N, he’d sit through just about anything she wanted to watch.

And then finally, the sugar he’d consumed got to his head.

“Do you always watch scary movies before bed?” He asked, completely lost in his daydreams and not fully realizing he’d asked her a full-blown question until it was out of his mouth. Once he came to his senses, he wanted to shove every last word back into his mouth and pretend he never said anything.

That was, until a couple silent moments went by and she finally said something. “Makes the nightmares more interesting.”

He didn’t expect her to say anything at all, and so for her to say that, he had no idea how to respond to her. Was she being... sarcastic? He didn’t even know she was capable of being funny.

So he laughed, not too loudly in case she wasn’t joking. But all his worries were relieved when she glanced at him and giggled too.

He didn’t dare bring up any of the questions floating around in his mind in fear that she’d never speak another word to him ever again once he’d finally managed to break through the walls somehow. Now that he’d made groundbreaking progress with her, there was no way he was asking her why she never talked to him or why she was so quiet. So he kept a fine-tuned filter over what words came out of his mouth.

“Does that mean you have uninteresting nightmares then?” Harry really did try his damndest to think of anything to say that would get her to keep talking, because he wasn’t done listening to her voice or hearing bits of her brain spill out. He wanted to know everything about her, from her mouth only, but he also didn’t want to get too ahead of himself.

“Only on Sundays.”

“Why Sundays?” He asked through a muffled laugh, curious as to what she was on about.

“Because then the nightmares are about showing up at work naked on Monday morning... and that’s not very interesting.”

He couldn’t help the widespread grin on his face, or the way his eyebrows furrowed at how fucking weird she actually was. And she wasn’t even that weird. She was kind of normal, but this entire time he thought she wasn’t like him at all, so seeing her say things like a normal person was... weird.

“So what kind of nightmares does watching Annabelle at...” Harry checked his watch, and went into momentary shock at the time, but also couldn’t care less because he wasn’t leaving now, “two in the morning get you?”

She smiled, and refusing to look at him, settled for planting her eyes on the television instead. “Walking into work naked on Monday morning but,” she held up a finger in anticipation and Harry smiled wider, “all my coworkers are creepy dolls.”

“Guess at that point it doesn't matter if you’re naked then.”

She thought about for a moment before giggling at what he said, “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

There was silence between them again, but it was different this time. It was peaceful. It wasn’t full of awkward tension and things Harry wished she would say. It felt like two friends hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

“Are you sleeping here or...” She finally asked him and he wasn’t sure if that was her way of asking him to leave or not. But something about it made him feel like she was building her walls back up again.

“Oh, uh... if that’s okay. Think I’m too tired to drive.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just wanted to know because I can sleep in Violet’s room and you can have my bed like before. If you want.”

“Oh, um, are you sure?” Under any other circumstances, he would have said no, that the short, uncomfortable couch would be fine. That he would get over the pain in his legs and back in the morning because he didn’t want to invade her space, again. Unfortunately for him, he already had the knowledge of what her pillows smelled like and how soft her sheets were and he desperately wanted to invade her space again.

She nodded. “It’s no problem. I’ll go clean up a little. Just let yourself in.”

She was gone before he could get another word out. And while he listened to her footsteps as she walked away from him, he stared blankly up at the ceiling, resting his neck back on the chair. It felt like he’d just been through a fever dream, like none of it was real. Not only did he have a normal conversation with her, but now she was offering her bed to him again as well.

He needed a moment to process things.

When she got done tidying up her room and replacing her blanket with a clean one for Harry, he appeared cautiously in the doorway, yawning as he watched her gather some of her things to take to Violet’s room directly across the hall.

“I turned the TV off and the lights. Will’s still quite dead out there.”

She smiled to herself and gave him a very fleeting glance before picking the last item she needed up off her side table and then finally facing him. “It’s all yours.”

Ushering him in, he stepped into her room like he wasn’t actually allowed to. Like he had never been there before. Like he hadn’t nearly puked all over her poor white bed sheets that one night.

She replaced his spot in the doorway as he sat down on the edge of her bed. He stared at her back as she walked away, not getting his hopes up about her saying anything else to him. So, when she did turn to face him again, it just about knocked the air out of him.

“Oh and Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you try to not drool on my pillows this time?”

He glanced at the top of her bed where all her pillows were neatly stacked and cringed at the horrible memories he had and at the fact that he’d actually drooled on her pillows. Like a fucking animal. Like a dog who couldn’t control himself.

“Sorry ‘bout that...” He looked at her again, genuinely apologetic and completely embarrassed by his past, drunken self.

“It’s okay.” She smiled reassuringly, “Night.”

“G’night.” Harry mumbled just before she left and closed the door behind her.

And in all the talk about drool, it wasn’t until he was cuddled under her blanket and up against her mound of pillows that he realized something. She’d said his name, out loud, to his face, where he could hear it and obsess over it and never get sick of it. He repeated it over and over in his head and kept himself awake just thinking about the way it had sounded and if he’d ever get to hear her say his name again.

The faint hum of voices right outside the door woke him slightly. His entire body was still asleep except for about half of his brain and one eye that peeked open to investigate the noise. He could tell it was early, though, his eyes stung and his body ached to go fully back to sleep.

He could make out Violet’s voice, which confused his foggy brain because he swore Will had mentioned she’d be gone all weekend, and yet here she was yelling in the hallway and interrupting his sleep.

“Please just sleep on the couch then, I need to be alone right now.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows at how distressed she sounded and flinched when the door across the hall just about slammed shut.

He heard an exasperated sigh and then squeezed his eyes shut when he saw movement under the door to Y/N’s bedroom just moments before it opened. He pretended to be asleep for as long as he could, listening to the footsteps as they carefully wandered into the room.

And then a hushed, but very exclamatory, “Ow!” got him to roll onto his back and knuckle his eyes open.

She looked at him apologetically while grasping the big toe of her right foot. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His voice was a lot groggier and a lot more raspy than she expected it to be. And she kind of hated herself for enjoying the view, a little too much, of Harry waking up in her bed. While she got her thoughts under control, he continued. “Did Violet just kick you out?”

She simply nodded and went back to digging into her cabinets for spare pillows.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“Four-thirty.”

Then he slowly pulled her blanket off, still dressed in his shirt and joggers from last night but without his socks and rings he’d removed before bed.

She immediately turned to him, however. “You don’t have to get up. I’m fine on the couch.” “No, I would feel bad.”

“It’s okay, really. Don’t worry about it.” She got him to stop what he was doing and lay back into the bed again while she opened up more cabinet doors to find her extra bed sets.

He cleared his throat after a little while of watching her, and gathered up the largest bundle of courage he ever had, to say what he was about to say next. With nervous, shaking fingers and a cold sweat on the back of his neck, he voiced the stupidest idea he’d ever had in his life.

“We can just both sleep here... if that’s fine.”

She froze and he knew he’d made a mistake. Why in the actual fuck did he just suggest that? Maybe he was sleep deprived. Maybe he was still reeling from last night. Maybe he had some false sense of security with her and completely forgot about the fact that last night had been the first time she’d said that many words to him. Of course she wasn’t about to climb in bed with him.

“Oh, um...” She finally found a couple pillows and pulled them from the cabinet while turning her attention back to Harry. She could not deny how desperately she wanted to crawl back into her own bed. And have a warm body next to her, which she had literally never had. No one had ever slept in her bed besides Harry, and definitely not with her. Sure, she’d slept in friends’ beds before on occasion, but this was different. It was her own bed and this was Harry, not her college friends.

So maybe it was the sleep-deprivation talking. 

“Okay.”

In all forms but physical, his jaw had just hit the floor. Never in a million years or in any other infinite alternate realities would he have thought they’d end up here, with Harry sliding over to one side of the bed to make room for her while she crawled in beside him. Her queen size gave lots of room in between them, so it wasn’t as weird as it sounded. It was just two, very tired loose-knit friends sharing a bed for a few hours.

“Goodnight, again.” Harry mumbled, realizing too late that it was technically morning now.

“Mhm,” was the only response he got out of her when she curled up under the blanket they shared and went straight back to sleep with her back to him.

And once his nerves settled, he did the same.

It was a lot easier than either of them thought possible. And for a long while, they stayed on their respective sides of the bed. But once she was lost in dreamland and he was already letting out soft snores, there was no control over what happened next. She turned and cuddled right up to his side as if her unconscious mind thought he was some kind of pillow to cradle. She wasn’t all to blame, though, as his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. Closer than either of them had been to another living being in a long time. As close as her forearm spread across his chest and her head nestled into his neck. Close enough to smell his cologne but not realize why or stop any of it from happening. Not that she would have wanted to if she had any clue what she was doing. Not that he would have wanted to either.

With his hand digging into her waist, they both were mildly aware of what was going on, but both were also still too lost in their exhaustion. So, it just happened. And they held each other tighter as the minutes passed and the dreams took over once again. Because they both needed it. To hold and to be held. To feel the pressure of another person and the heartbeat on their skin. And all the loneliness in their bones melting away with each other’s touch as if they’d never been alone in the first place.

The only thing that could ever separate them was the knock on her door at nine a.m. Everything was a little fuzzy at first before she blinked a few times and realized that what she’d been using as a pillow wasn’t exactly stuffed with cotton and lined in silk. With a gasp, she pulled away from him abruptly. Ceasing all contact. Not because she wanted to necessarily, but because she would rather Harry not find out she was all over him like she had just been.

“Oh my god,” she whispered quietly in disbelief, mentally punching herself in the face for what she’d just woken up to.

But her embarrassment only skyrocketed when she dragged her eyes up his neck to his chin, then his nose and finally saw him staring right back at her with furrowed brows like he was just as confused as she was. When he glanced at the door is when she moved to do something about it.

Quickly, she pulled the covers off of herself and opened her door only the smallest amount possible. Just enough to peak her head out, but not enough for Will to see Harry in her bed. Where she’d just been sleeping right next to him. Or... right on top of him, as it seemed.

“Did Harry go home last night?”

With absolutely no plan to go along with her lie, she still figured it was the better option than to admit to Will she’d been in the same bed as Harry. That she’d been all fucking over him for who knows how long.

“Um, yeah. After you fell asleep.”

From behind her, Harry quietly smacked his hands over his face and fell back dramatically into her fluffy pillows.

“Oh, ok. Vi won’t come out of her room, but I’m going to go get breakfast from Jade’s. You want anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thanks.” Her words fused together in a flash, just trying to get the least amount of information out as quickly as possible so she didn't accidentally say something suspicious.

She shut the door on him with a smile before Will could even offer her a pastry from their most loved local cafe. Once that was dealt with, and she had a moment to gather her thoughts as she stared at her door, she slowly turned around to face Harry.

Her cheeks were probably bright red and full of embarrassment seeing him there amongst her sheets; as if once she had turned around he wouldn’t actually be there, like maybe she’d dreamt the whole thing.

But no.

He was there. And he was very real. And very much looking at her like they were both insane.

“I’m sorry,” they said it at the exact same time, cutting each other off from saying anything else.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, um...” Harry started once he found an opportunity to speak again, but he didn’t exactly know what he was apologizing for. He wasn’t sorry for how they’d ended up. He had the best four and a half hours of sleep he’d ever had.

“I shouldn’t have been like... all on you like that.” She averted her eyes when she spoke, not able to look him straight on and admit it. And she knew she was only apologizing because she felt embarrassed and like she had to. She felt like she’d invaded Harry’s space and took advantage of him.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

She just shrugged. Nothing he said at this point could make her feel any less horrible about it. And even so, some part deep down inside of her, when she finally looked at him again, wanted to get right back into that spot with him for another few hours.

It just felt... right. And even though she couldn’t remember what she dreamed about, she knew it wasn’t her usual nightmare. She had felt safe and secure, and not so alone anymore, sleeping beside him like that and she felt stupid knowing it would never happen again.

“I should get going then. Before Will comes back and realizes I didn’t actually leave.” Harry let out an exasperated laugh as he began getting up, sitting himself on the edge of her bed with his back facing her as he stretched. The fabric of his shirt tugged along his muscles as he flexed them awake, and she grew far too overwhelmed thinking about the fact that those fucking arms of his had been around her for the better half of the morning. She could still feel him holding onto her and his grip at her side.

She needed a very cold shower and some fresh air.

[amphii-writes]

Random Haikyuu Head Canons I Have

these are all taken from my discord server cause i remember to write them there, if you want to request fanfics, my requests are W I D E open! there is also nO order! these are just all the headcanons i could find tbh

warnings: mentions of blood, and just overall wild times, swearing

Asahi loves knitting sweaters because his shoulders are broad and he also loves seeing the reactions from his teammates when they get a sweater from him! He says he buys them but he doesn’t

Aone likes knitting socks because he has big feet and he loves fluffy knee high socks but his team will never know

Asahi and Aone regularly hang out and knit together! (after asahi wasnt scared of him anyways)

Nishinoya gives you shiny rocks he finds because “your eyes shine like them!”

Yamaguchi likes to have your head rest on his chest while cuddling!

Aone likes to bake

Aone dressed like a polar bear because koganegawa told him to- halloween was amazing

daICHI HAS A KISS THE COOK APRON

Daichi secretly can make some kick ass steak and is amazing at grilling sorry

Okay but real talk, Kenma and Yaku swear like sailors and it scares everyone because they always whisper the most foul, insulting things under their breath. Hearing it is like seeing a cryptid

Speaking of cryptids, Fukunaga and Shibayama are THE most true crime, mythology, and mystery obsessed fanatics on the team and often fanboy about it together 

Fukunaga’s obsession with moth man has gotten to an unhealthy stage

Kenma absolutely had a vampire phase and has read twilight. Only Kuroo knows and has sworn to secrecy via blood pact

Kuroo’s a musical nerd. Knows all of the lyrics to Hamilton, BMC, DEH, Heathers, Rent, Beetlejuice, Etc. Kenma considered dropping him because of it

Iwaizumi tells the worst dad jokes and Kyotani, wanting to beat him, started doing it too and it drives everyone insane

Yahaba and Matsukawa get along surprisingly well. Both are true crime freaks and bond over their forensic files obsessions

Matsukawa didn’t really like his thick eyebrows so he got one of his female friends to pluck it for him, but almost cried and gave up after the first hair. Oikawa called him a pussy for the next year

Hanamaki jokingly flirts with everyone on the team so most of them just got used to it, but it still confuses Kindaichi to the point of mental breakdown

Makki called Kyotani ‘puppy’ as a joke once and now mad dog is truly terrified of him

Kyotani’s dog absolutely ADORES Oikawa and it’s the funniest shit to the rest of the team

Mattsun and Makki play DnD and once convinced Yahaba and Kyotani to join. Kyotani kept rolling to fight everyone and Yahaba was a bard that kept rolling to seduce everyone. They kept yelling across the board so they had to kick them out

Outside of his school uniform, Goshiki specifically wears only plaid

Tendou makes little chocolates for the whole team every once in a while so they don’t think he’s scary

Semi and Shirabu once had a fistfight in an abandoned McDonald’s parking lot while Tendou filmed and Goshiki cheered them on

Everybody makes fun of Shirabu’s haircut but nobody dares to say it to his face. its gotten to the point where they say he got it done by a blind old lady

There’s a running joke about Shirabu also getting his haircut from prison but Goshiki is starting to suspect that it may not be a joke

Yamagata and Tendou are good friends with the mutual goal of collecting as much blackmail on their team as possible

Tendou loves animals generally considered to be ‘ugly’ like rats, crows, reptiles, etc.

80% of Goshiki’s playlist is shit overplayed on the radio. Him, Shirabu, Tendou, Kawanishi and Ushijima have a permanent ban from the aux cord

Nobody watches YouTube with Ushijima because he never skips the damn ads (other than tendou)

Suna once said y’all’dn’t’ve unironically and made a first year cry

Akagi once said UwU unironically and had an identity crisis.

Osamu has one of those rainbow gaming keyboards and is constantly on a discord call. Atsumu always yells weird shit in the background to embarrass him and once pretended to be him

During Seijoh group chat arguments. Hanamaki and Mattsukawa like to drop facebook minion memes in just to piss everyone off even more

mattsun and maki both have separate photo albums in their phones labelled ‘minion memes to piss everyone off’

Hinata carries a pocket knife and no one has no fucking idea why

mattsun and maki both have matching rat fursuits that look like they actually where in a sewer- they chased oikawa around

For all his talk of plant analogies and metaphors, Ushijima cant grow shit

Goshiki’s Bangs are the way they are because his favorite character was Rock Lee from Naruto

Oikawa has watched Ouran High School Host Club front to back so many times and he can quote all of Tamaki’s lines by heart -He keeps bothering Iwaizumi to “be his Haruhi, since you’re shorter than me”

Koganegawa has definitely gone as an Angry Bird for Halloween

Fukunaga has those reflective cat eyes, and he has terrified Yamamoto on several occasion

Hanamaki and Matsukawa have a teddy bear that they pretend is their child and they share custody

Suga always sprays whipped cream straight into his mouth whenever he sees a can

Nishinoya definitely bit people as a kid

Nishinoya would be the guy to wear shorts all year round and even if it's snowing, he'll insist he's not cold

Tendou is still stuck in his emo phase and would fangirl over Creepypasta with me and I appreciate that (me too buddy, me fuckin too)

Kyoutani LOOKS like he’d listen to viking death metal, but in reality he listens to Mother Mother and knows all the words to Ghosting

Sugawara would definitely encourage me to dumb shit and not stop me, and you’re all dumb for thinking he wouldn’t 

KENMA IS NOT ‘uwu owo’ SHY, HE IS ‘your fucking gross’ SHY SO LITERALLY STFU

Bokuto listens to Nicki Manaj. And knows all the words. To every. Single. Song.

Ushijima for some reason knows an odd amount of 90′s-2000′s R&B and he will hum along to the songs if they come on the radio (he also loves Dolly Parton) ((he says he relates to her music))

Bokuto once ate instant ramen for an entire month

TERUSHIMA DID TRY TO FUCK A PLANT WHILE SHITFACED AND GOD I STAND BY WHAT I SAID

atsumu let’s you put makeup on him and pretends to eat the brushes (do yk what im talking about- like n o m)

tendou ran for school president as a joke but actually won

i 100% believe that all of karasuno’s third years apologize when they bump into inanimate objects, but when suga is really tired or stressed out, he’ll yell at them instead.

Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Taketora have a group chat called "Bros who want sum hoes" and they send each other hypebeast memes and shit

Sugawara knows how to do a bunch of flexible shit because he sometimes goes to yoga with daichi and asahi's moms, its fucking hilarious

tanaka and noya both breakdance- they work as a team and sometimes go to tokyo for underground competitions- saeko drives them

Daichi knows a little ballet- nobody other than Kiyoko knows because they saw each other at the ballet class and had to work together- dont tell tanaka and noya that he lifted her though

Osamu once put glitter on Atsumu's pillow- he still finds hot pink glitter on shit

kita knits and crochets with his grandma

Kita's grandma knows everyone's names because kita talks shit bout them, her favorite is Aran

Kuroo has burnt his eyebrows off doing an experiment. His goggles didn't cover all his brows,,, so he just showed up to practice like that. No eyebrows and a chemical burn

kenma has played all kinds of games, but he was dared to play corpse party by kuroo. He wasn't scared because of the gore, he was thinking about the trauma the characters went through. Punched kuroo the next day because that game was fucked up

Lev isn't a strong swimmer, so he often grabs people by the head to keep himself up. happened with kenma and lev couldn't walk due to the force of kenmas suprised water kicks

akaashi has those fancy pens that you have to dip in ink and they're so nice

Bokuto has and will eat pencil erasers again

Daichi once almost lost his shit at his team but instead he lost his shit at the door that decided to stub his toe on the way out of the gym. not the best thing to be found yelling to.

Yamaguchi for sure has been dragged to one of terushimas parties because he didnt wanna say no. oh and terushima has like frat boy level parties too. Yams has for sure had some wild nights and doubts anyone other than Tsukishima and the party-goers will ever know

Akaashi can actually flirt very well! He reads romance novels sometimes and has analyzed any and every book in his possession! so he's actually quite charming

Daihsou unironically posted on twitter after mika broke up with him "I still see her shadows in my room"

Mattsun and Maki run a fake oikawa account; its been going ever since twitter even started getting popular and they even started sending messages in spanish. The posts would range from "I love all my fans!" to flirting with them :) Oikawa is pissed cause the account got verified before he did and most of his fans also follow the fake oikawa. Tooru has no idea who runs it JUST IMAGINE OIKAWA JUST LIKE RANTING TO THE SEIJOH 3RD YEAR ALUMNI AND JUST "no Iwa-chan, you dont understand! they run a fake account and pretend to be me!" while makki and mattsun laugh their asses off

Oh, kenma for sure has pretended to be a girl on discord and has gotten someone to buy him stuff. after they do he says in his normal voice "fucking simp" and then hangs up and blocks the other persons discord

Yamamoto, despite his rough appearance, loves kids and has and will be a human jungle gym

suna in middle school had a game with his friends about who could make kids cry the fastest

The twins switched places back in middle school and nobody could tell because of how great they are at acting like eachother

Daichi once arrested coach ukai for public intoxication after a game :|

Daichi has arrested many people from his old volleyball team but the most memorable case was when he arrested tanaka and noya for reckless driving. poor idiots got so scared when they saw their old captains face in their mirror and started to pray

tanaka, while trying to intimidate someone, once said "You dont gotta tell me twice, i may be straight but these hands are bisexual" and he often cringes at night thinking about it

Kageyama, as a comeback to Tsukishima, said "one thing about us royalty is that we love to feast" and he also fuckin hates what he said

the third years made a cult for Kiyoko. they chant every wednesday "i'll do anything for kiyoko, she makes me go loco"

oikawas fangirls are known to be fucking rabid

yAMAMOTO AND KENMA AFTER THEIR FIGHT WERE FORCED BY KUROO TO MAKE IT UP: so they dyed their hair together

Makki and mattsun sang two trucks in front of the entire team. everyone was so confused. Makki: "twO TRUCKS HAVIN SEX!!" Mattsun: "oH yEs!"THEY'D SWITCH OFF AND HAVE LIKE CHOREOGRAPHY TOO LIKE THEY'D DO A TANGO WHILE THE SONG IS LIKE "two beer trucks, making love"

tendou once called Oikawa "mr. no-nationals" and got kicked in the shins before iwaizumi could save him

Tsukishima had a my little pony phase

you work with matsukawa at a morgue and he makes dead people jokes while you fix some dead guys face with wax and makeup he'd be like "so didnt he like,,, stick his head out of the sunroof of a moving fuckin car??" he'd be singing dumb ways to die the entire day

i feel like Kuroo has one crazy accident a year. like it might not be deadly but its fucking crazy like for example: Kuroo for sure has ridden in a shopping cart at past midnight with kenma (who pushed him down a hill) causing Kuroo to get scratched up hella well. he lied and said he spent the night with a girl and kenma fucking hated himself cause he would be the girl if that was true

Mattsun has flirted with the 4th years moms before (AS A JOKE), and because of this: he is known as “fuckin milf hunter” sometimes by the team

Warning, this next headcanon is talking about cannabis, weed, mary jane, the zoink root. so if your uncomfortable, please dont read below :)

dude i wanna get high as SHIT with Asahi 

i think Asahi would be one of those mfkers who takes one hit and is gone 

ASAHI ACCIDENTALLY GOING TO PRACTICE ZOINKED 

IMAGINE HIM SEEING TSUKISHIMA AND JUST "he looks so judgemental,,, im scared" 

OR LIKE A MAD DAICHI AND JUST "i'm gonna,,, im gonna go jump out the window now" 

Noya and Tanaka would know tho, i feel like they'd have a 6th sense when it comes to weed. they probably get some from Saeko cause she'd rather they do it in the house. they'd smell asahi like fucking dogs and just so,,, big guy had fun without us huh? 

DAICHI WOULD KNOW ABOUT ASAHI BEING ZOINKED, SMASH HIS FACE INTO THE WALL, TURN AROUND WITH A RED MARK ON HIS FOREHEAD AND WITH A BEAMING SMILE AND FEUX ENTHUSIASM SAY: "YOSH, LETS WARM UP!"

[neacle]

ALL OF THE SHIP ASKS FOR GREASED LIGHTNING

HIT ME LOFE

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet? At the championship race lmaoo

What was their first impression of each other? When Electra first entered, Greaseball was pissed at his arrogance, flashiness, and cockyness, but also extremely attracted to his gracefulness and beauty (tho he didn't know it at first and just mistook it for anger lmao) Electra was attracted to GB from the start, but pissed when he challenged him and took his components. But he tried to flirt and tease for the rest of the race, with little success

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Not really lmao The components think little of Greaseball and mostly think he's dumb and wasted energy. But they support Electra nonetheless, naturally. Dinah is very keen on getting them together tho, GB's apparent change and slow but steady growth a clear sign that his thing with Electra is good.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Greaseball. He's dealt with love and relationships before, and despite him being a bit of a "skirtchaser", he wears his heart on his sleeve. He falls fast and hard, even if he doesn't want to admit it

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Eh, yeeeaaaah Very hard lmao. They're just having a fun no-strings-attached sort of thing 🙃 They're just sleeping together, they're just blowing off steam, what are you talking about. Feelings are hard, feelings lead to hurt

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? They would both laugh and think it hilarious. Electra would never steep so low as a Diesel, wtf. Greaseball would perhaps be more...annoyed, in a macho-man sort of way. He only likes girls, after all, he's a MAN™

What would their lives be like if they had never met? Oh, wow hmmm If they'd never met, I believe both would go on like they did before the Race. More arrogant and selfish, and GB prob wouldn't have lost the race, but then again who knows? So he'd still be a bit of a bully, and Electra would still be spoiled (more spoiled) and look down on other's

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Dinah did, she made it so that they *had* to confess, she put them in a tight spot, so to speak lmao You'll just have to wait and see....

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? They will! And it will go very well, and be very sweet 😌

What was their first kiss like? Well.... Chaotic, just after the crash, Electra reached over and pulled GB in. He wanted to tease but he was also completely done with this shit and wanted to show his interest. GB doesn't remember much, but he remembers the kiss and that he liked it very much

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Not really, except that this is Electra's first relationship, but everything else they've both done tons of times before lol

What’s their height difference? Age difference? There's 4 inches between them (10 cm), Electra is 6,4-6,5 and GB is 6,1 And while ages aren't realllllly a firm concept in the trainworld, if they were human, Electra is 26 years old, and Greaseball is 34, so 8 years between them

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Ehm, well Purse and Joule is super thirsty for GB and gets along great with him. Volta doesn't really care for him, Wrench despises him and Krupp is just tired lol. They have a quiet understanding tho of staying away from each other Electra gets along great with Dinah, if she counts lmao. They're a little stiff around each other at first, but then forms a very sweet friendship. He doesn't care much for Tank, Gear and Lube. They exist and are dumb.

Who takes the lead in social situations? Well, that depends on situation. Electra is very talented at being social. But actually rather hates it if it's not from a distance. He thrives in attention, but isn't that talented with smalltalk or just being generally pleasant. Greaseball is a leader and charismatic, so he's very much a presence that people want to be in and talk in.

Who gets jealous easier? Both. But maybe Greaseball a liiiiiittle more

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? That depends. If it's out in public, Electra likes to tease him. If it's in the bedroom, GB's got a filthy mouth.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first? Greaseball, he's more vocal

What are their primary love languages? Touch, cuddling, kisses, stroking the cheek and fondling the ass lmao

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Greaseball shdsgfdgssgf Electra just rolls his eyes but secretly enjoys it

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? So often, they can't keep their hands or mouths away from each other. As soon as they get together officially, they make everyone gag around them lol

Who initiates kisses? Both, they like to kiss a lot 😌

Who’s the big and little spoon? Greaseball is always the big spoon, and Electra loves to be embraced, so little spoon all the time

What are their favorite things to do together? Fuck each other Explore, go on excursions, sunbathe, and cuddle

Who’s better at comforting the other? Greaseball is better at that, he's had more experience, while Electra often is the one that's been comforted for his whole life lol, so he's very awkward

Who’s more protective? Greaseball, he must protect his delicate Racer bf hngggg But Electra likes to zap whoever messes with GB

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Physical, they're both very awkward with their words lmaoo

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? Oh wow, ehm...i have a whole playlist but here are some right at the forefront of my mind lol Never or Right Now by ELFL Man to Man by Dorian Electra Still Don't Know My Name by Labrinth So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings by Caroline Polachek

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? So many.... Greaseball calls Electra "Darlin', baby, Lexi, Lex, Ellie, honey, my girl, my fella, pretty thing, brat" Electra calls GB "G, baby, handsome, big guy, my man, honey, lump, brute"

Who remembers the little things? Electra, he's very meticulous lmao

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes? Marriage is a human thing, and even if railfolk do get like...officially coupled to each other, i'm not sure they would. Plus that Racers aren't allowed to like, enter civil partnerships with other engines or carriages. But GB would propose if they could

What’s the wedding like? Who attends? Grand, everyone is is invited.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? No kids, ew

Do they have any pets? Nope lol, GB would be a dogperson but animals make Electra uncomfortable

Who’s the stricter parent? Again, no kids, ew lmao

Who worries the most? Electra, he has a diagnosed anxiety disorder gdgsfgdfsdfd

Who kills the bugs in the house? GB, he attacc, he protecc

How do they celebrate holidays? Parties, but often smaller ones, just closest friends and the components

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Electra lmao. He tries everytime Greaseball has to go to work in the yard. He's never succeeded because GB is actually a very good and hard worker, but damn if he hasn't gotten close some times

Who’s the better cook? They don't really eat, but if they did, GB would. He's picked up some things from Dinah lmao

Who likes to dance? Both, but Electra loves to go clubbin' so I guess Electra more? But they very much enjoy to dance together Thank you looooooofe <3333

[alonelytinywriter]

Forced

Anonymous ~ do you write smut? because if you write smut you should write another villain!au w/ All Might x fem oc where he breaks into her house and fucks her in every hole available and doesn’t let her cum the whole time and cums in her so much her tummy expands and he fucks her right into her womb and it’s just lots of noncon and him making her do whatever he wants her to do. please don’t use my user name I don’t know how to make it not show it. Thxs you!!!!!

*Flames red, fans self, and cracks knuckles* You got it baby, and no problem, name removed! I hope you like it Darling. It’s my first real attempt at writing smut and hopefully it’s what you had in mind. You’re, uh, you are age appropriate for such requests, correct? *Harshly raises eyebrow in judgement* Also, I’m pretty sure that there’s an option around your username that asks if you want to be anonymous? I could be wrong? *Edit - So, it turns out that I didn’t have the Asks set up properly and you couldn’t ask anonymously, and I am so sorry!* 

Warnings: Mature 18+. Smut. Non-con. Shameless, indulgent, request inspired, filth. Real rapey folks. Anal play. Nipple play. Throat fuck. Vaginal Sex. Orgasm control/denial. Daddy kink (implications). Super unrealistic descriptions of how everything works out with the size difference. (Please never look at John. K. Peta in Google. Just. Just don’t.) A mess of curse words. Lots of cum/cum inflation. Cervix penetration. Kidnapping. Graphic descriptions of everything mentioned. It’s fuckin’ filthy y’all. Ye have been warned.

 Yandere! Villain! All Might / Original Female Character

Playlist - The HU (Mongolia) Radio ~ Pandora

Name: Kauri Zenigata ~ Birthday: July 7th ~ Age: 24 ~ Hair Color: Blonde ~ Eye Color: Blue ~ Gender: Female ~ Height: 5′1′’ ~ Quirk: Usagi ~ Occupation: Pole Dancer

Appearance: Kauri is a short girl of a relatively slender build compared to the other girls who work at the gentleman’s club, who has notably large rabbit-like feet as well as two large white ears on her head. Her appearance is rather rabbit-like in general: she has a very fluffy tail at the base of her spine, the tips of her fingers have soft pink pads rather than fingerprints, her eyes are large and coltish; she also demonstrates some rabbit-like mannerisms, like hopping instead of running in life or death situations and thumping her feet against the floor to alert others in her area to danger. Her hair is light blonde, and is very long, although the curls cause it to fall no further than her waist. ~ Most, if not all of Kauri’s clothes outside work come from the thrift markets around town, and she’s managed to collect a rather large closet filled with Mori Kai fashion - loosely fighting layers of garments such as floaty dresses and cardigans. Her clothes all come from natural fabrics and tend to be  hand-made or vintage accessories with nature themes.

Quirk: Usagi (Rabbit) ~ Kauri’s Quirk gives her both physical attributes and abilities of a rabbit. This gives her heightened leg strength, allowing her to jump and kick with extreme force. She also has excellent hearing thanks to her rabbit-like ears, and possess animal instincts that alert her to nearby danger.

Power - 4/5 ~ Speed - 5/6 (S) ~ Technique - 2/5 ~ Intelligence - 3/5 ~ Cooperativeness - 5/5

~ Forced ~

~ Kauri Zenigata arrives home after working an exhausting night and barely manages to wipe away the heavy stage makeup from her face and change from the barely there underwear she wears for her work into a pair of plain black panties and a tank-top of the same color. The moment her head hits the pillows her body melts into the mattress and everything goes dark behind her eyelids. She doesn’t feel like she’s been asleep long at all when she feels a heavy weight holding her down and she wakes up to find a looming shadow above her, a single hand pressed into her wrists while a second stroked and touched her body. He’s already talking when she wakes and when she listens to the words her blood runs cold.

 ~ “ -little angel. So perfect. Such a dirty little slut. You like it, huh? Dressing like a slut and dancing in front of all those men? You’ve been asking for someone to fuck you for a long time. Gonna wreak that pretty little pussy of yours, baby girl.” Even if his voice hadn’t been instantly recognizable the piercing blue eyes cutting through the darkness certainly were, and Kauri’s situation came to her in a rush.

 ~ She was no longer wearing the clothes she had fallen asleep in, she realized, and there was something hard and stiff rubbing against her stomach; after a fleeting moment of confusion, Kauri realized that it was his dick rubbing against her pussy while the tip leaked pre-slick above her navel. Long and thick and so hard she could feel every vein as they passed over her freshly waxed slit, his shaft was nearly as large as her forearm. “No! No, no, no -” Kauri begins to scream, and she suddenly regrets living in such a remote part of town. It had seemed so nice, not having any neighbors for three blocks in any direction, but now, with Japan’s Number One Villain forcing her back into the mattress, pressing his obvious erection against her, it suddenly seemed as if she might as well be on Jupiter. “No!”

 ~ The laugh that leaves All Smite is booming. “Come now, darling. You work at a gentleman’s night club. You can’t tell me that you haven’t expected this - haven’t expected what would happen to you if anyone ever thought to follow you home.” All Smite begins to laugh again when Kauri starts to cry, huge tears pooling against her lashes before falling into her pale hair. Words of denial and refusal continued to fall from her lips, but they were incoherent between the hiccuping sobs that escaped with every breath, her body nearly vibrating as All Smite leaned forward so that his teeth could scrap across the sensitive skin on her neck and chest.

 ~ Kauri’s voice rose to a wailing cry when he pulled her to the edge of the bed and bent her at the waist so that her hips were pulled up into the air. His mouth latched onto the smooth lips of her pussy and sucked - hard. His teeth followed after and Kauri’s voice continued to rise and fall as All Smite abused the soft slit before him. Drawing back, All Smite felt the girls legs shaking where they rested against his shoulders, her back pressed against his chest, and he smiled wolfishly. With one hand, he held her in the air by a single ankle, and with the other he spread her swollen, bruised, beautiful pussy lips wide, her slit bare before him; a second later his lips and teeth latch onto her clit, making Kauri’s legs to go stiff and her entire being to go hot - hot - her hips began to thrust against his tongue, a wave a pleasure rising up in a white hot pulsating tide that was seconds away from washing over her -

 ~ And then All Smite removed his mouth, stopping all stimulation and the moan of frustration that leaves Kauri’s mouth is absolutely filthy as her pussy clenches around nothing in a dry imitation of an orgasm. “Oh, no, baby. Good girls don’t cum without their Daddy’s permission. You’re so small, you know. Like fucking with a little girl.” All Smite let Kauri fall limply onto the bed, her head hanging from the edge. His fingers slipped into her mouth and he forced them in and out after commanding her to suck. Kauri, who very much so wished she was brave enough to bite the villains fingers as a way to show him that he didn’t own her, began to openly weep as All Smite continued to speak. “Oh baby girl, so fucking small. Like a little doll. Gonna fuck you up and take you home so I can do it all over again. Gonna ruin that pretty little pussy of yours, and fuck this cute little mouth-pussy until your lips are swollen and you can’t breath without my dick in your throat.”

 ~ All Smite removed his fingers from her mouth, wet and glistening with her saliva, and found her nipples, pinching hard enough that Kauri’s mouth opened into an immediate yelp of pain. The sound was cut short, however, when All Smite pressed his hips forward, burying the head of his dick into her mouth. “If you bite me, I’ll break your neck, little girl.” And Kauri believed him. It didn’t matter how fast she knew she could be - how strong - All Smite could break her in a second if he wanted. But he hadn’t. Not yet, at the very least if you didn’t count the bruises Kauri could feel forming on her wrists and neck.

~ “Mmmphh!!” Kauri’s hands flew to All Smite’s thighs, pushing away, trying desperately to breath past All Smite’s length when it hit the back of her throat and then continued. Thrashing, Kauri’s hips rolled across the bed despite All Smite’s hands on her lower back, and he groaned, “Ahhh, c’mon, don’t struggle. That’s it. Swallow baby.” All Smite pulled back when only half his dick was buried in her throat, his glacier blue eyes flashing for a moment before he smiled, teeth wicked sharp in the darkness of the room, and then he thrust forward, encasing the length of his dick to the base. With Kauri’s nose buried against the fine golden hair just above the base of his cock, he began to snap his hips forward, while one hand slid to focus on her abused slit while the other pinched and pulled her puffy nipples. His words began to assault her ears as he continued to fuck her throat, muttering vile, degrading things when her pussy began to produce slick. He gathered the wetness and began to pool it upward, rubbing against the small star bud so close to the entrance of her pussy. For a moment - only a moment - All Smite pulled back, his dick resting along the side of her face, and she wondered why until All Smite slipped two thick fingers into her ass, slamming them to the last knuckle with no warming before scissoring them inside her, stretching her open. “Didn’t want you to bite my dick off when I did that.” All Smite muttered against her back as she shrieked, before nipping at her bottom with his teeth, causing her to convulse.

 ~ All Smite began to against her wet heat once again, even as he thrust his fingers into her again and again, ignoring her pleas to stop. The pleasure was back, spreading through her pussy and making her clit feel as if it were on fire, the throbbing unbearable as she felt the pleasure spike as All Smite rubbed at the swollen button of flesh. The fingers in her ass were pumping into her vigorously, making her backside burn like ice as the pain mixed with the pleasure from her clit. The mixture was overwhelming and she began to whine low in her throat. She was close - so close - almost - All Smites fingers found her clit again, pinching this time, causing Kauri’s faint moans to change to a hoarse scream as the pleasure turned to pain and the orgasm was forced away once again. All Smite wasted no time in pressing his dick back into her mouth, thrusting forward hard and fast all at once, the whole length of him in her throat before she can take a breath.

 ~ I . . . c - can’t . . . breathe . . . Kauri’s eyes rolled upwards, vision blurring into a wall of golden light. The throbbing in her clit was beginning to rise once again as All Smite rolled the bud between his fingertips. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, baby girl. That’s it!” All Smite’s roar drowned out the sound of Kauri’s feeble cry around his cock when he abandoned her clit just as she retched the edge of yet another ruined orgasm and instead threaded his fingers through her hair, forcing the whole of his penis into her mouth and throat as thick ropes of cum erupted into her esophagus. His fingers massaged her scalp and ears as his hips continued to give sudden, jerky thrusts, holding her down with his length still buried in her throat. Kauri could see black spots beginning to dance before her eyes, could feel of him pulsing inside her neck, blocking her airway. Her head began to spin and her hands, which had been pressing against the villain’s hips, fell to the bed, fingers dangling limply towards the floor. “That’s a good girl. But what’s wrong, your heartbeat feels faint. Doesn’t it feel good baby girl?”

 ~ Kauri couldn’t be sure, but she thinks that she passed out with his shaft still forcing her throat to stretch, because the next thing she knows, she’s laying with her back against the bed instead of her stomach and All Smite is smiling down at her in a way that makes her stomach curdle. His fingers pinch and pull her nipples, massaging her generous breasts as he spoke softly to her, his voice nearly inaudible as he seems to speak with himself over her small body. His fingers soon moved from gently tugging and pulling at her rosy nipples to twisting them and pulling against them so the weight of her breast hug from their tips making Kauri cry out.

 ~ Something jingles loudly in All Smite’s hands, but before Kauri can give the sound a second thought something cold and heavy and tight wrapped around the base of each nipple and the pain that seemed to engulf her breasts made her scream high and loud, her voice breaking at the end as she scrambles to move away, to protect herself from more pain. Her leg jerks from his grasp and a moment later her foot - large, furry, and strong - hits his chest with enough force to make All Smite’s breath rush from his lungs. Glaring, All Smite easily slips a hand around a singe hips the moment she manages to move to her hands and knees, the weighted clamps attached to her nipples pulling against the sensitive flesh painfully, and he yanks her back in one fluid motion. Kauri screams again when her weight is forced onto her chest, rubbing and pressing against her nipples so that her screams continue as he easily forces her over his lap.

 ~ “Where do you think you’re going, baby girl?” All Smite’s voice cracks as he begins to fondle her ass, spanking her ever time she seems to become too comfortable with his touches. It was after his hands fell upon her ass in a quick succession of blows that Kauri lost count of when he slipped his fingers between the folds of her pussy to find it absolutely soaking wet. “Holy fuck, are you - are you liking this?” All Smite asks, mocking her with the tone of his voice and the fingers that skimmed the surface of her swollen clit, making her entire body tremble. The immediate, feeble ‘no’ that leaves Kauri’s mouth causes All Smite to smile, his hands already pulling her up so that she was sitting across his lap, the head of his dick resting against the bottom of her sternum while her hips strained to spread far enough to allow his thighs between her own.

 ~ When All Smite moves to position Kauri over the head of his shaft by lifting her as if she weighs no more than a kitten, the swollen tip leaking pre-slick across her already soaked entrance, her voice raises in level once more. Her voice raw and rasping, Kauri begin to struggle against him once more, shaking her head. “It won’t fit - too big - you can’t - no.” She knew that her words were disjointed, that they didn’t make sense, but as she felt the large head of All Smite’s shaft begin to force its way into her body, Kauri swore she could feel her pelvic bones creaking. It hurt, hurt, hurt, and All Smite wasn’t stopping, not when her nails scrapped across the skin of his chest and forearms, not when her back arched in an attempt to throw herself from his hold, not when she screamed so loudly her voice broke and suddenly became nothing more than a rasping squeak. He had only managed to force the head of his dick inside her entrance and already it felt as if he were splitting her in two. Her neck felt weak and Kauri couldn’t seem to hold her head up as All Smite rolled his hits into hers, chuckling when she stiffened and whimpered, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. 

 ~ “Still awake down there, baby girl?” All Smite chuckled, pulling back so that  the swell of the  tip of his shaft rested against her folds. Her hands were slack against his chest and it seemed as if her eyes might be rolled into the back of her head. “Hey, c’mon now, you’ll want to wake up for this next part. It should be . . . Plus Ultra.” All Smite laughed, the old saying from his high school days rolling from his tongue easily as his hands gripped her hips tightly then, giving her no room to move as he pressed his hips forward - and then he surged upward and Kauri wailed as his length sunk into her heat. 

~ “You’re breaking me! I”m breaking - you’re going to break me - I can’t!” All Smite laughed and told her what nonsense that was - “After all a woman’s pussy’s meant to have a baby and as flattering as that is, my dicks no where near the size of a baby.” - and then he was moving, the length of his dick showing through the bulge in her stomach each time he thrust. Kauri continued to wail, unable to help the sounds escaping her mouth as All Smite bounced her on his lap. With her back pressed against his chest it was easy to reach the swollen bud between her legs and he rubbed it aggressively as he began to bounce her, and her nails dug almost painfully into his wrist as her walls began to flutter around his shaft. He waited until the fluttering stuttered and her breath caught before he pulled his fingers away. The orgasm was further halted by his other hand pulling one of the clamps on her nipples sharply and suddenly so that it pulled from her skin with a loud snap. “I told you, only good girl get to cum and you’ve not proven that you’re a good girl yet, have you?”

 ~ She lost the second clamp when All Smite denied her yet again and her thoughts were beginning to go fuzzy around the edges. She didn’t scream when the nipple clamp was painfully pulled from her body, but she did begin to sob when All Smite pulled his dick from her pussy with an audible pop and a rush of fluid down her thighs. Her pussy clenched painfully at nothing and All Smite turned her so that he could watch as she trembled in his arms. “Fuck baby girl, gonna cum soon and fill that pretty pussy of yours with my cum.” 

 ~ Pulling her up he dropped her down again with no warning, and he groaned as he felt her battered cervix give beneath the pressure and the last few inches of his shaft slipped inside as he moved impossible deeper into her slit. “Wha - !? Uahhhh! No! Nooo!” Kauri wailed. All Smite’s hands wrapped around her waist and he smiled. “Do you feel that baby? Feel your womb getting pushed up? Your so stuffed with my cock that I can feel your ovaries.” Kauri’s face flushed violently and she shook her head when All Smite’s fingers danced across the skin of her belly. “No! Stop it! Don’t - you can’t do this! You can’t! You can’t!” All Smite laughed through each word by pulling back till only the tip of his shaft lay inside her before pushing forward with as much force as he possible could. His fingers found her clit again and he rubbed with a single minded intent and for a moment, a fleeting moment, Kauri thought he might finally allow her to tip over the edge but then he leaned down close to her ear, “Fuck, baby girl. Fuck, I’m . . . I’m gonna cum! I’m - I’m cumming!”, and he pulled his finger away and left her teetering at the edge once more, her voice a breathless whine as her body shook on his dick.

 ~ Kauri could feel the rush of liquid as it filled her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as All Smite continued to swipe his fingertips against the swollen bud that was throbbing painfully between her legs. She was cramping, the pressure from the villain’s cum trapped within her pussy causing the swelling of her stomach to grow. The shape of All Smite’s dick became less pronounced and then disappeared all together while he continued to pump into her slit, each thrust filling her with more and more of his essence.  “Such a good girl.” All Smite crooned into her ear, his hand rubbing across her belly, which was swollen to the point she seemed nearly four months pregnant. “Such a good girl. If you keep being good I just might let you cum when we get home. I can’t wait to fuck you again. Such a good girl.”

[ponkho]

Dimitry Darrleeyia

The cold, serious and cryptid magician whos past is in flames

Introduction

Full name: Dimitry Keahi Darrleeyia

Meaning: Dimitry means "Earth-lover" and "Devoted/Dedicated to demeter" (greek mythology goddess of corn and harvest). Keahi is a boy's name of Hawaiian origin meaning "flames" . Darrleeyia does not have any meaning, it is there for backstory purposes.

Source 1 source 2

Pronunciation: Dimitry (Dim-mi-tri) Keahi (ke-ah-hí) Darrleeyia (Darr-lee-ih-ah)

Gender: Male, He-Him

Birthday: 15/9

Age: 28

Orientation: Pansexual

Magic: fire, Earth (rocks creation and manipulation)

Occupation: Magician, shop-keeper, fortune teller,

Familiar: Maxwell, the red panda. Cute boy, horrible personality

Love interest: Asra

Shippable? Yes! Absolutely!!

Theme song: Phoenix - Fall out Boy

playlist :)

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISTJ

Major Arcana: The Moon

Upright: Unconscious, illusions intuition

Reversed: confusion, fear, misinterpretation

Minor Arcana: Ace of Swords

Upright: breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind

Reversed: confusion, brutality, chaos

— Magic —

Fire–- his habilities in general is around fire magic, such as creating a flame from thin air to creating massive explosions. If you manage to enrage him enough his hair will turn into flames and he will breath a black hot smoke.

Earth–- this magic is more on the rock solid part. He's not very good with nature and earth magic (since he tends to burn things down thanks to his fire magic) but he is actually pretty good at rock manipulation. He can creates hard rocks from the ground and create precious rocks even, his most precious rock he can create is diamonds, but for that he needs to have passed through a hard time of stress, sadness or any overwhelming bad feeling, and as a result, two horns made of diamonds will grow to defend himself and look threatening. (He feels embarrassed after, he thinks he was weak enough to let those feelings overwhelm him)

Others habilities: he can speak with animals, cooks amazingly good and he's good at only three weapons: daggers, katanas and Lances.

— Personality and Preferences —

Personality: he's cold, cryptid and too honest. He doesn't give a single shit about how you feel, most of the time, i mean. He is hard to befriend, and always is looking for some hidden lie under any word that comes out of your mouth, but once you get his trust he will still be very cold but he will start showing how he feels. Like, giving gifts, making things. Giving without wanting back.

He has a great talent of getting through lies, so if you really want to deceive him, you gotta be smarter than him. People tend to stay away from his path everywhere he goes, not because bad reputation, but for respect, he can look as calm and cool as he wants but he can and will put you to your place if needed. Dimitry, whenever he wants to impress, he'll act, doesn't know how to talk about feelings or anything, so if he know about something you really want or like he'll get it for you, but will never want to take credits for it, instead he will use the famous "I just happened to be there".

Finally when he really likes someone, his behavior changes totally towards this person. He's calm, loving, sweet, measure his words with care to not hurt, loyal and becomes a little bit protective. He will smile more and if you're lucky, you can even get some chuckles out of his mouth, he'll even create jewels for you, "oh you like knives? Here's a diamond dagger I made."

Never talks about his markings. Unless you have a amazing relationship with him, but even so, he will only give hints and never the whole truth.

Likes: Cooking, talking with Max(well), reading, drawing, playing harp,(He plays it at his bedroom on the palace) silence.

Dislikes: loud people, disrespect, lies.

Fears: losing Max, cages and betrayal

Quirks: he can run extremely fast and thanks to his tail, he can make swift turns without losing much speed. His markings burn when he is enraged, and sometimes they will burn his own clothes.

Favorite food: Gingerbread

Favorite Drink: Hot chocolate

Favorite flower: Gardenia

Favorite color: Mahogany

Most likely to: burn a city down because they messed with one of his friends

★— Appearance — ★

Height: 197 cm

Eyes: Burning orange transitioning to yellow

Hair: long Mahogany colored hair, two long bangs on the front, hair tied up on a bun.

Other: his hair is not originally mahogany, his hair color is the same as the tuff of fur on his tail, wich is, blonde.

Color theme: Mahogany, red, yellows and beige.

Family & Background

Family:

His current adoptive mother is a queen, or as they say, a Leader, wich would make him the next in line

Bianca Wood - biological mother - deceased // Relationship: none

Darek Wood - biological father - alive? // Relationship: Bad

Meghan Rook - adoptive mother - deceased // Relationship: bad

Andrew Rook - adoptive father - deceased // Relationship: horrible

Lys Rook - adoptive sister - deceased // Relationship: he was kind of her slave

???? Darrleeyia - Adoptive mother - alive // Relationship: motherly, friend, family

History

Sit down because it's going to be a long talk

He was born on a very poor little village and his parents never actually wanted kids, it's one more mouth to feed and they almost didn't have food for themselves, he was raised to work hard, he helped on home already at a age when he knew already what was happening around him. His mother never gave him a motherly love and his dad just talked to him to offend or to order him around, not that he cared about it, he thought it was how parents worked. One day his mother fell ill and died, at that age Dimitry was 6, he knew she wasn't coming back and his dad started to put the blame on him for her death, as if he could do anything. One day things got out of hand and his dad became alcoholic, then he started to owe money for people, and he couldn't pay it. So one day, when the opportunity came and he saw that Dimitry could use magic, he sold Dimitry to a couple that needed someone to cook, clean and entertain the guests of their bar on another village. They payed a good price and even more because of the magic Dimitry knew.

When he arrived he felt betrayed, left by his own father. So he thought "Well, he was an ass anyways. I'm sure I'll be better here" unfortunately, it was not what happened. They had already pointed out that they needed someone to cook and clean the bar, wich he already knew and was fine with it but then they started to abuse their power over him. His sister made him clean her bedroom, she would cut his hair just for "fun" and blame him for anything she had done, and of course her parents believed her and only her. He got spanked a lot of times and then he just decided he would never smile or talk again, because every word that comes out of his mouth turns against him, at this time he was 8.

One day a customer, different from all the others came directly at him. It was a woman, taller than everyone in that room, she used a hood and she had an air of superiority. She asked him why he was sad and why did he work so hard, he didn't answer, but she insisted on talking to him, she even invited him to sit on a table to talk with her but he refused since he was working. Then, she told him she had a way of saving him from that place, he was just like her, but because of always restraining his emotions and desires, he didn't look different from all the rest. She would come at night again to have one last talk and it was his choice if he wanted to go or not.

When the woman came back at night, she was without her hood and when she walked in, all the bar fell silent. He finally knew who that woman was. She was the woman from the tales, the legends, she was Darrleeyia, a goddess. She brings warmth, prosperity and happiness whenever she goes, and she was just there, on that miserable bar, just to ask him if he wanted to come home. After she made the question all the eyes fell on Dimitry, he felt anxious for the first time, but he knew she wouldn't be worse than what already was happening to him there, so he accepted her offer. She gave him her hand and they walked out of the bar without interruptions. What about the bar, you say? She burnt it down and she did not hide her satisfaction of it.

Together, they went got on a ship and she took Dimitry where he now can call home.

Five Facts:

Dimitry is allergic to shrimp. He discovered that when the Leader of the seas of the homeland gave him a shrimp as a treat for helping her out. The Leader got in trouble with Darrleeyia later on.

He is ambidextrous

He can purr, but it's rare. Extremely rare that only two people saw him do that. His mother and Maxwell

His body runs at a higher temperature than normal humans.

His diamond horns cannot be broken by anyone other than himself. If someone wants to take it out they'll have to crack Dimitry's skull.

Art References:

I got 99% inspired by @juliandev0rak's Cadmus bio soooo

[ashtonangst]

Bet. / Ashton Irwin

Hello friends and welcome to ashtonangst’s first ever full on smut! This was something I typed up at midnight, during my prime thirst hours. Thanks to @kindahoping4forever​ for proofing it for me and hyping me up xoxo luv u 

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: R

Warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it masturbation and daddy kink; dirty talk; oral (m+f receiving); teasing; unprotected sex in a committed relationship

Let me know what you think!

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

     The book sat heavy in your lap. Unopened, begging to be read. The fantasies within its pages were nothing compared to the ones you couldn’t stop thinking about.

     It was a dare. You were fed up with Ashton’s incessant need to be fucked (not that you protested often). It was as if his hands had a libido of their own. You’d dared him to go one week without touching you--or himself. General displays of affection were permissible, but absolutely nothing sexual. The winner of this dare would choose what the other did to them. When you gave him this challenge, you knew he would cave. He always does. Except this time it was different.

     After a year together you knew what made each other tick. You shared the same fantasies and carried these out often. This time, Ashton decided to use this knowledge to his advantage. He started walking around in nothing but his (and your) favorite pair of lounging shorts. He made a show of adjusting himself to let you know he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Then, in his practice sessions, he invited you to watch, knowing how much you loved to watch him make perfect rhythms from his head. He waited until you were up and focused on other things to go for his daily canyon jog. He made a show of stretching (his “warm ups”) in that tank top--the white one that he knew drove you mad--until you were practically drooling at the sight of his muscles flexing under the fabric. 

     One particular day, closer to when the tension was so thick you almost thought you could give in, he caught you ogling at the combination he’d chosen for his workout: the dreaded white tank and the tightest pair of black athletic shorts he owned, a combination that was sure to send warmth between your thighs. 

     “Like what you see, love?” he smirked, choosing his playlist for the workout. 

     “I always do, but don’t think you’re gonna win this one this time, baby,” you retort, trying not to stare as he made his way over to stand next to you while he prepared his water bottle. He chuckles softly, screwing the lid onto the container and flexing at the same time. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to get me to cave. My willpower has always been stronger than yours, you know this.”

     “I know,” he breathes, coming to stand behind your chair at the kitchen island where you were enjoying your morning coffee. “But never underestimate a man’s desire to have his girlfriend writhing under him in complete and total ecstasy,” he places kisses up and down your neck in the process--just barely staying within the guidelines of the dare. “I can’t wait to have you screaming for my cock...begging me to fuck you raw because you were just too fucking greedy to win at your own game and you’re mad that I haven’t let you cum all night.” He leans up, walking towards the door and grabbing his belongings. You frustratedly sigh at his absence, the filthy words that came from his mouth only seconds before making you want just that--right then and there. 

     That’s how you ended up trying to read the latest novel on your list to distract yourself from the growing need you felt deep in the pits of your stomach. The further your eyes scanned the pages, the more the words ran together, eventually forming pages and pages of black lines. Between those lines was Ashton, his cock hitting in those just-right places, coaxing you to your fifth orgasm. Eventually you blink yourself out of this fantasy. 

     You were the one who suggested this little game, you weren’t about to lose at your own game. That was until you found your hand traveling farther and farther down your body, until it disappeared under the waistband of your panties, finding your clit with ease. As you slowly started to rub yourself, you’re drawn out of your own fantasies by the sound of Ashton’s keys jingling in the lock. You quickly compose yourself, and before he has the door open you’re waltzing into the kitchen to place your mug in the sink. You give him a coy smile, “hi, darling. Looks like your workout went well.”

     “It was very nice, thanks for asking. I kind of bit myself in the ass, though, from my stunt this morning. I couldn’t stop thinking about licking your pussy until you’re cumming all over my mouth.”

     You look up at him with wide eyes before a smirk forms on your lips. “Ashton Irwin, are you admitting defeat?” 

     His shoulders hang in mock surrender. “Only if it means that part of your punishment for losing the bet is that I get to taste that sweet pussy of yours.”

     You slowly approach him, giving him the same lust-filled eyes he’s giving you. “Think about how good I taste while you’re showering. Then I’ll think about letting you eat my pussy.” He hums with lust thick in his throat as he heads toward the shower. You smile to yourself, knowing you’re not going to give up so quickly.

     You’re nowhere to be found when he’s showered from his late-morning jog. You’re out grabbing the groceries he forgot to pick up, he thinks. He also wonders if he’ll have time to hide the evidence if he spurts his own load all over his clean shirt, his shorts, and the sheets. Just as you had been so rudely interrupted earlier, he, too, found himself scrambling to act casual as he heard the sliding door to the garden snap shut. He smiles at you as you make your way back into the shared bedroom. “I wasn’t admitting defeat, you know. Just letting you know what I’m going to do to you once I win our bet.” 

     You give him a curt smile. “Fine, let’s add three more days onto this bet.”

______

     The week passes with relatively little tension. Sure, it’s always there, but the two of you were too stubborn to admit defeat and give into your own desires that the bet was still on and going strong. That is, until you hear Ashton’s weak groans as he’s in the shower. You immediately know that he’s launching weak spurts of his cum onto the shower wall. He’s caved. You knew he always would. You pity him, really. 

     You were getting close to inserting your own two fingers into your warm and aching pussy at this thought when you decided to make his punishment an anti-punishment--reward him for holding off for a whole week with the promise of your sweet, sweet pussy on his tongue at the end of it. 

     As always, he’s only wearing a towel when he emerges from the steamy room. “Enjoy your shower this morning, baby?” You know the answer to this question, but he still stops dead in his tracks. “I at least hope you rinsed your cum off of the wall. That shit’s a bitch to clean once it’s dry.” 

     He turns slowly on one heel. “Do you think this is fun? Is this your sadistic way to prove to me that you’re the dominant one in this relationship? Daddy gets to touch himself any fucking time he wants to.” The switch had flipped. He tried to be submissive to the woman who makes his heart soar--to make her happy, to fulfill all of her desires--but he needed her too badly. He had to have his way, that’s just how it’s been the entirety of your sexual relationship. 

     You gulp, unsure of what to respond. You notice he’s begun to grow hard again, and finally admit that he’s too sure of himself to let you win this game. You both want it now, you’re both going to get it now. He turns to dig through his drawers, searching for an outfit for the day. “Let me help you, baby,” you speak, but it’s barely audible over his rummaging. You come off of the bed and pad closer to him until you’re standing behind him, kissing his back. “Come to the bed, please, baby.” He turns and looks at you, lust and exhaustion clouding his eyes. He bounds over to the mattress, deciding to stand instead of sit. “I know you're tired of my game. Truce?” 

     He nods quietly, and the silence is deafening. He’s not going to give you the satisfaction of winning, but he’ll take the loser's prize. Never breaking eye contact, you sink lower until you’re eye-level with his now fully hard cock. He watches in silent awe as you salivate when you finally drop the towel he’d loosely tied around his hips. His cock springs free, the tip red and needy despite his quick jerk in the shower only minutes before. You take it in your hand, its weight fits nicely in your hand, your favorite feeling. You look at him watching you as you lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, making it twitch on your tongue. You hum as you take him fully into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take every inch of him. 

     He’s amazed. He loves that pretty mouth of yours, and fuck, does he love having his cock put in it. He gathers your hair into a loose ponytail, just enough for him to see the tears develop in the corners of your eyes. Your free hand fondles his balls, just the way he likes, causing his hips to snap, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. You pull off of it with a breath, a string of spit connecting your chin and his tip. With doe eyes you rasp, “fuck my face, you earned it.” He groans in delight, his cock twitching in your hand for the umpteenth time. He tightens his grip in your hair, causing your scalp to sting. 

     He puts the feelings of the past week into every thrust into your throat. He watches the tears fall from your cheeks, but the hum in the bottom of your throat tells him you’re enjoying this, too. His thrusts become sloppy, his moans growing louder. You feel his cock jerk on your tongue in the same instant that he’s pushing your head still on his cock. His load comes hot, thick, and with loud moans of praises and thanks. You stand, humming with pleasure as you wipe the last bit of his cum from your chin. He’s breathless, but the look on his face tells you he’s far from spent. 

     “Lay down. Strip. Spread,” he gruffs out. This is a new reaction that sends sparks through your body. You quickly oblige, excited for his repayment. As soon as he catches a glimpse of your glistening pussy, he’s holding down your hips in preparation for his assault. “So wet for me, baby. You haven’t touched yourself, not even once, this whole week? What a shame, such a pretty pussy,” he tuts, running a finger through your slick folds and taking your nipple between his teeth, sucking harshly. He lets go with a loud pop, but follows it with firm slaps to each sensitive breast, earning a whimper from your lips. “I bet you thought about this every day...having my cock so deep in you you can feel me in your stomach...crying out, begging me to let you sit on my face. Fuck me, baby, you’re gorgeous. So wet, so needy for me. Where’s that dominant spirit that was here last week? She saw Daddy’s hard cock and got greedy. Needed me to touch her and wouldn’t tell me. Pitiful.” You can only respond to his words with whimpers, a stark contrast from the filth that you spewed to get him riled up. 

     “Ash...please...I need it...need your tongue, your cock...please.” You’re writhing under him, just as he imagined. He only gives a smile before diving in between your thighs. He hums when your fingers pull immediately at his scalp as he begins to suck harshly on your clit. He alternates between this movement and licking wide strips up the length of your pussy. You’ve begun to squirm more than he likes, so he wraps both arms over your thighs to hold them in place. He darts his tongue into your hole before deciding quickly to assault your clit and leave the rest up to his expert fingers. He knows you always beg for more when he begins with one finger, so he thrusts three fingers into you from the get, curling them up to hit your g-spot with each thrust. He moves his fingers and tongue faster when he hears your whimpers of praise fall from your lips. He knows you’re close, you’re clenching on his fingers so hard that he can hardly move them. Fuck, he wishes that was his cock. He feels it tremble again, a painful reminder that his needs were far from met. Your quiet moans turn into screams as his quiet hums turn into vibrating groans against your throbbing clit.

      “Good girl...cum on my fingers for me...jus’ like that,” he coos as he feels your fingers dig into his scalp. He resumes his onslaught just in time for your first orgasm to hit. He licks your pussy clean, and by the time the stars have faded and the sounds of the room have floated back into your ears, he’s grabbing his long-forgotten towel to quickly wipe anything that his tongue couldn’t clean. 

     Without warning, his elbows are next to your ears as he pushes your thighs apart to settle between them. You can feel his needy cock brushing against your stomach. He swipes the head between your folds only once before bottoming out. You whine at the new sensation just as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, groaning at this new angle. 

     “Fuck, Ash...so fucking big...I’m so full,” is all you can repeat as his thrusts become heavier and longer. He pulls out almost completely just to slam himself back in several times, causing your head to spin. 

     “God, darlin’, you’re takin’ my cock so fucking well. Never gonna go without your pussy ever again. Never.” The fire returns in your belly as his thrusts are more sporadic and followed with loud groans and countless affirmations of praise. 

     “Ash, Ash...I’m close,” you breathily moan.

     “Me, too, baby. Want you cumming on my cock...so tight...made just for me.”

His words are what finally send you over the edge. The stars shine brighter this time, the ringing in your ears the loudest bell ever made. He follows not far behind, his cock releasing thick ropes of cum deep inside of you. As you both fall from your highs, he leaves soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, staying buried inside you for as long as he can stand it.

      You’re rubbing his scalp calmingly, breathing in his scent, a mix of citrus, musk, and Ashton. You break the comfortable silence with a chuckle and, “I don’t think I’ll be denying you anything for a very long time, Ashton.”

     He laughs at that, agreeing. “Same here. I love you too much to go without showing you my love. But if we decide to play this game again, let’s make the reward more clear, yeah? We both got our way this time, I don't think that’s how this was supposed to work.” He laughs quietly and rolls to your side, pulling you to him in an almost fluid motion. “That was fucking worth the wait, though.” He kisses your forehead before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. He lets out an “I love you,” thick with sleep. You hum in response. 

“I love you, too, especially when we both lose the same bet.” 

[glitterge1pen]

A BNHA playlist organized by BPM

(also yes this is all incredibly on the nose thank you I think its funny)  

Jirou - 7 AM by Jacqueline Taieb

She's a total music nerd. I think she listens to absolutely everything, loves making playlists for her friends. Probably sends people songs she thinks they would like to show that she is thinking about them.

Tokoyami - After Dark but the Hieroglyphics 

Hiphop and emo music. Knows all the trashy pop punk songs, super into the 90s hiphop classics. I think he doesn't mind listening to anything but I peg those two genres as his favorites. Every now and then thinks about how those guys from Good Charlotte and Sum41 dated Paris Hilton. 

Hagakure - What U See (Is What U Get) by Britney Spears 

Her and Mina have a playlist that is nothing but boybands. They blast New Editon, NSYNC, and One Direction when they work out together or do homework. Watches mila tequila on Youtube and then puts on Christina Aguilera, Britney Spears, and Arvil Lavigne. Dreams about dressing up some guy in all jean outfit to have her JT and Britney moment.

Mineta - I Wish by Skee-Lo

Because he wishing for things he aint ever getting.

Nejire - Freakum Dress by Beyonce 

Loves songs that sound like you're in the car with your friends on the way to the mall. Rihanna, Mariah Carey, Aaliyah, Brandy. Knows way too many Usher songs. Will shake her ass to anything. For some reasons knows all the words to Tegan and Sara's Boyfriend???? Love her.

Koda - Song for Me by Greer

Wildermiss, Greer, The Oh Hellos. I think Koda would like anything that makes them like they are laying in a big giant flower field. Songs like Laughing On The Outside, and I'm sorry by Brenda Lee. Ladies singing real big.

Mirio - The Other Side by SZA/Justin Timberlake 

Also because he's gay. My take on Justin Timberlake is you either have to be really straight or REALLY gay to listen to him. I also think he'd be into the Spice Girls and classic rock. 

Aoyama - Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing by Incognito 

Likes music that is typically played at a gay night club. Other than that bedroom pop!to!the!max! Also Brent Faiyaz, Troy Sivan. When he hears Uraraka playing her 2000s pop hits while she's cleaning her room he goes feral. 

Tamaki - Tim I Wish You Were Born A Girl by of Montreal 

It's because he's gay no further questions. 

Kirishima - Hit Me by Fit For Rivals 

Likes anything that sounds heavy. Hiphop with a deep bass, any song where someone is screaming. Royal Blood, RAGTM, and Brockhampton seem like some of his go to artists. That Start a Riot song by Duckwrth is in his top five. Soft spot for Patsy Cline because I said so. 

Sero - Rosalie by MG 

I've seen a lot of Hispanic head cannons for him, and as a fellow Latino I love this. I think he'd have one of those really long "low rider oldies" type of playlist. Him and Denki probably get along well music wise. 

Asui - All I Want by Toad The Wet Sprocket 

I get a Fleetwood Mac, Electric Light Orchestra, Elton John, The Zombies kinda vibe from her. Oh she definitely loves Queen to. I think her and Deku also share the same stroke for stuff like the Gin Blossoms, Jellyfish and Pavement. 

Mina - Y.A.L.A. by M.I.A

Hot girl music. Le Tigre, Flo Milli, 7 Year Bitch, Rico Nasty. If there is ever a situation where the class gets to listen to music she is in charge because she knows what everyone likes and keeps the perfect mood . Loves to dance no matter what song it is. Plays L7 when she's getting ready and Kirishima likes to sit in.

Sato - Gimme Love by Joji

A$AP Rocky, Tyler The Creator, Rich Brian, Kevin Abstract, Poetic Thrust. Don't know how to explain this but if he was on a basketball team they'd put on his playlist for pre game warm up. People love to go in his room and put music on while he bakes.

Deku - Surrounded by Silversun Pickups

Listens to this song to like fester his Bakugou scabs or something. Is someone to have a study playlist that's filled with Wun-Two. Other than lofi I think Deku is someone to like some 90s/2000s alt, a couple harder bands here and there. 

Todoroki - Ice Princess by Azealia Banks 

I don't really see him listening to music a lot. Probably like two playlists, one with songs he's just kinda stumbled into, and another one of songs he remembers from when he was younger. Green Day, Paramore, High Tyde? Everyone bands together to make him a recommendations playlist. The thing is like 9 hours long and a total wreck but he goes to sleep listening to it. 

Ojiro - (I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone by The Monkees

Beach Boys! Lovin Spoonful! The Beatles! Says he doesn't really like the stuff Hagakure listens to when she shows him her playlist. Is slowly morphed into a Britney Spears fan by her. Will occasionally lay out on the grass to listen to Rocketman and disassociate.

Kaminari - Let It Whip by Dazz Band 

Don't know how or why but he totally feels like he'd be into disco? Not like exclusively? I think he'd love how fun it sounds. Saw someone else on Spotify who thought the same, so thanks for seeing the vision. Probably puts on some tunes to dance to when he thinks someone's down in the dumps. Love the idea of him forcing Bakugou to dance. 

Shoji - Cooler Than Me by Ethan Fields 

I think he listens to a lot of covers and remixes. LOVES POP GOES PUNK. Gets a rush of energy when he can figure out what sample someone used on a song. I think he'd be into stuff like Remo Drive? Thoughts?

Yaoyorozu - Glitter by Charly Bliss 

Sidney Gish, Peach Pit, Polar Boys, Wallows. I think she probably grew up going to the symphony because she had the wealth to. Into musicals for the same reason, definitely embarrassed about the musical thing though. Day dreams about being in Grease.

Iida - Here It Goes Again by OK Go 

Cage the elephant, CAKE, Weezer. Listens to music by song rather than album,artist, or genre. Probably following all of those music by the decades playlists, just wants to know what the hell is going on. Very caught up on the top songs in every genre.

Uraraka - Hands - readymade JBL mix 2000 by m-flo

I think this has her general vibe and it also fits with her ability aswell. Generally speaking I think her taste of music is more chilled. Lots of R&B, some Aquadolls, probably listens to a throwback 2000s playlist to get hyped. Like to imagine that she puts on Kesha when she trains with Gunhead and he knows all the words. 

Bakugou - Pressure In My Palms by Amine 

Reason this stupid post is being made. The song is too perfect for this dude. Like. Listen and you'll understand. Probably super good at sorting his music. Very basic playlist names though. 

click here for the playlist 

[illustraice]

lead me out (on the moonlight floor) 

rating:  T word count: 7526 multiple chapters: 1/?

[ read on AO3 <3 ]

Chloe Bourgeois’ Capri Sun has a sheen to it. It probably reflects light on some poor freshman kid trying to navigate the hallways filtered with the fall breeze and the faint scent of student panic. She stays seated between the legs of the unbothered figure behind her and thinks that getting to class in time is, like, overrated and Alya Cesaire’s arms have to be comfortably occupied, thank you very much. If she had any time, Marinette would think it was moderately cute and a true testament to battling against The Wall of Heterosexuality, but because she doesn’t have any time between pushing her way through The Wave of Student Flesh and desperately clinging to her multiple binders, she starts to think it’s a bit of an inconvenience.

The Cesaire-Bourgeois Package Deal block a generous portion of the stair path; if the freshmen had any opposition to Françoise Dupont University’s ‘It’ Couple’s (of 5 months and 16 days, Chloe had announced in a lecture once) location of choice, they didn’t comment. Marinette scans the frantic narrow hallway and appraises her options; she’d very much like to get to Economics on time but there’s probably bad, weirdly homophobic, undertones to telling the Package Deal to please, get off the stairs and get to class. The two are glued to their spot, class time a weak thing to nudge their unwavering dedication to listen to whatever pop-indie playlist Cesaire has curated on her phone as they share the singular string of earpods. Marinette shuts her eyes for a few seconds, wishing Nino were here to pick up her courage off the ground to hand back to her so she can say something to the two about not blocking the stair path and making out in the next 5--or maybe 2?--minutes.

A trio of younger students scampers to the stairs, too careful to not bother the couple like if they were to make contact with even an inch of Cesaire’s varsity jacket, they would suffer a force of an electrical shock or something equally dangerous to the medical bill. Marinette wills herself to roll her eyes, hopes that whatever exasperation she has rolled with it. She’s near the duo enough to share a few words (maybe testimonies from other students about how much they want to get to class on time?), and slowly inhales preparing to speak when a smooth voice calls out behind her.

“Can you two get any more cliche?”

Somehow, through the blaring indie mess of a song--Hozier? A band Marinette doesn’t know?--Alya acknowledges the comment and offers a smile in the direction of the voice.

“Relaxation is key, Agreste.” she hums lazily. Between the confines of Alya’s arms, her girlfriend grunts intelligently.

By the time Marinette realises her conversational sacrifice is better off unrealised and makes her way farther up the stairs hurriedly, Chloe has put her earbud to the side and points a meticulously manicured finger accusingly.

“Find true love before you judge true love.” she preaches.

“What is that? Aristotle?” Adrien quips. “I think true love can find a way to stop blocking the stairs and scaring the freshmen.”

Chloe scrunches her nose. “Find true love on your own first to prove it.”

Adrien sighs and for the short time being, curses his previous determination 5 months ago to force his best friends on a date. Instead of resulting in moderate disaster material he’d hoped would happen to use as some kind of funny leverage they could all laugh at one day, they’d turn out to be ridiculously compatible despite their exteriors and made out after a mere 45 minutes of the date. They’d laugh in the face of his ulterior motives, howling at him when he’d found them in each other's arms sickeningly in love later. He’d yelled profanities that it wasn’t fair that it actually worked (“It was supposed to be a joke! God, come on!”) as they snickered, all three clustered on his bedroom floor drinking his dad’s whiskey from the inviting and playfully restricted liquor cabinet (they’d been careful to pick an unenticing bottle stored all the way back). But truthfully he was happy for them, earnestly and annoyingly so.

Even so, their habits needed to die; like getting caught in embarrassing places making out or purposefully making out in front of teachers with Homophobic Tendencies (Adrien was more than supportive of that one but he’d also run several arguments on why it may risk them not graduating. Alya had just shrugged and said yolo) and now, blocking crucial stairways in their ferocious display of PDA. He quickly glances up above the stairs and thinks about telepathically apologizing to everyone who has had to wade their way through the duo. A figure with pitch black hair almost stumbles up in a hurry. Adrien wonders how he could send along the message that he grants them a pass to yell at his friends as a sincere apology.

“Can you two just get up and go to class.” he finalises. He looks down at Chloe’s cheer uniform and muses to himself that the near neon yellow in it is the colour of Chloe’s life.

Students still scatter around the area but they’re beginning to disappear to their classes. He makes way for a row of students running to the stairs and they thank him, eyes wild communicating some kind of cryptic message he thinks he can decipher as ‘save us’. He takes several steps up and flicks at Alya’s bun, strays of her hair bouncing. She doesn’t protest and instead takes some form of an effort to take his advice but it’s quickly halted by a suave kiss to her lips.

‘5 more minutes.’ Alya’s lips barely mutter against her girlfriend’s. The proposed time frame seems to be unnegotiated.

Adrien jerks his head up to the ceiling and groans.

-

When three chattering students noisily stumble their way through her Economics class, Marinette takes no note of it. She’s a little too caught up in what pretentious shade of red the bodice of the dress she desperately trying--failing?--to design in her Studio Arts class is supposed to be so that it passes off as something Dior would create. A deep, lusting flame colour or perhaps, maroon? Maybe? Frighteningly so? She flicks her head up momentarily to glance at a wave of varsity jackets and a singular cheer uniform. The chatter of the room increases exponentially. Alya Cesaire makes a joke or two to the professor that somehow saves her and her friends’ asses. The professor rolls their eyes but they turn kind and indifferently forgiving like they always are to Cesaire’s charm. A row of girls in front of Marinette swoon a little and it takes a moment for her to realise it’s directed at Adrien Agreste’s smooth greeting, the smile on his face so easy it reminds Marinette of toothpaste commercials. Chloe takes a claim beside Alya’s seat, a Capri Sun in hand and a look of undiluted boredom in another. She crosses her legs, pouts a little at her girlfriend, a form of formally beckoning her over to sit down already.

Seats are taken. Because Marinette has a brain and two whole eyes, it has always registered to her that the three are easy--a pleasure perhaps--to look at. Agreste’s a model even; his status of that is as clear as day as it is as cemented on the school’s Wikipedia and his flashy Instagram bio. But the force of all three was indeed a ridiculously attractive sight and Marinette would take her time to appreciate it all (really, she would!) if the stress of completing her portfolio hadn’t kept her occupied every ticking minute of her time in school.

She sighs and eases her eyes on Adrien Agreste who practically swaggers his way to his seat, playfully bickering with Chloe the whole time without either caring for volume much to the class’ entertainment. His soft, somewhat curled, bundle of hair practically bounces like it just has its own individualistic way with gravity. A hand tucked in his varsity jacket pocket and another loosely on the strap of his bag, he laughs at one thing or another said by Alya and Marinette thinks it’s a nice sound. A casually beautiful entity, she concludes.

Marinette’s eyes wander aimlessly at the board but she feels a pair of eyes on her anyway. Adrien’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, a hint of recognition on his eyes as he takes the steps above like he’s willing a vision to be painted in his head. Before she can look to him, his head turns away and he quips at whatever incoming remark from Chloe he had his way. Huh.

By the time the chatter dies down enough, Marinette has already decided the brief moment had been a mere daydream, a wander of aimless eyes at her in coincidence just like her own. She picks up her pen and writes her notes, stifling a yawn. Maroon, she thinks, is an easier colour.

-

Chloe’s bedroom floor looks a little like what Adrien envisions as an entire Sephora store. He’s not all that sure what that actually looks like but between Chloe yelling out to find fifteen different shades of lipstick and Alya lazily stacking more than forty eyeshadows on each other in some cosmetic version of Jenga, he thinks he’s right. His wooden chopsticks point to the takeaway stir fry in his hand and he’s debating whether to try out that powder thing, see if it does something or other. The view beyond Chloe’s perfectly oversized balcony is easy to look at, sunset views and all, and he thinks he’d like it a lot if he could stay there instead of the proposed agenda of the upcoming night.

Alya is sprawled out in her girlfriend’s bed, amusing herself with a meme or two on her phone. That doesn’t really satisfy Chloe who whines a little when she steps out of her closet, a yellow high neck dress tight on her waist. Adrien scrunches his nose and thinks the other dress--whatever he remembers of it--was probably better.

“Why don’t I look hot?” Chloe mourns. She slumps on a chair nearby, glum and decidedly not hot.

“I liked the other dress better.” Adrien offers, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t think he likes the stir fry either. God, they should’ve just gotten pizza but Adrien’s stomach had made some last minute ditch to stir fry just as they entered the pizza shop and he should’ve listened to Alya saying his stomach is probably making a mistake but it just seemed so good of an idea at the time.

Alya glances up from her phone and makes some kind of protesting sound. “You always look hot babe!”

“Yes, true.” Chloe agrees momentarily, ‘But I don’t look hot in any dresses tonight.”

“Just don’t wear a dress.” Adrien offers again. They should really be taking his advice, he thinks. He knows he’s not paying that much attention but they should!

“Adrien, get up,” Chloe says.

“No.”

Alya looks at him from the bed, targets his face to throw a pillow. It lands on the desired location perfectly and he thinks it’s probably a warning. “What are you not hungry for?” he hears Alya ask.

He shoves the pillow away, eyes still greeting the ceiling. “The stir fry is not good.”

“You know, where was this energy an hour ego before you dragged us to an extra twenty minute walk to get it?”

“I’d really like my stomach’s intuition not be insulted during these trying times.”

Chloe scoffs, “Yeah, yeah. But really, what’s wrong?”

Her voice had shifted to the softer tone Adrien knows she categorises as the tone only given when Chloe’s actually worried. Adrien almost thinks about lying, then thinks better of it. Chloe and Alya could probably perfectly retrace every single step he's taken in his life. It’s useless and his stir fry has probably gone cold. He sits up this time, the warmth of the carpet off his back. He contemplates first and realises he does not want to ruin the night, not even for himself.

“Don’t worry,” he says finally, quietly. Quiet enough for it to be a clear lie.

Alya and Chloe exchange looks. A brief silence passes, the type Adrien knows is a mutual agreement between all three to wait. It doesn’t have to be said now, the silence says. A beat later, Chloe continues mourning her temporary lack of hotness, whining to herself again as she re-enters the closet. Alya maintains her lazy protests against the statement, grabbing the stir fry away from Adrien for herself (“God, it doesn’t even taste that bad.”). Adrien grins, wills himself to look forward to his own party, thinking it’s better that way.

-

Marinette stares almost menacingly at the computer screen. Photoshop and her design glare back at her like it’s a contest that it’s winning. It’s only a sketch but Marinette starting to think that if she stares at it long enough, the dress itself will appear magically before her, having chosen for itself confidently what colour it’d like its own bodice to be.

Instead, it only leads to her wondering if her eyes are actually threatening to bulge out.

“Why are you having a staring contest with your own computer?”

Marinette doesn’t turn around. Nino’s voice is not enough to keep her from trying this whole make-the-dress-magically-appear concept she’s got going on. He will not distract her from this goal. He places a plate with pepperoni pizza on her desk, a likely and tempting distraction. She takes it anyway.

“Is maroon, like, a good colour?” she asks, taking a bite. Nino lands himself on her bed, his headphones dangling on his neck the way it’s practically glued to him. He chews a bit of his pizza in some kind of contemplation before he answers.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“The bodice of my design is asking.”

“Then no,” he answers.

Marinette does not like this answer. But she’s pretty sure she doesn’t like any of the answers. She’s also sure Nino’s just talking out of his ass, but she appreciates the input.

“Man, have you even went out of your room since school?” he asks. It’s a genuine question, Marinette knows there’s no trace of judgement on his lips. But she’s also feeling a little jaded from the hours she’s spent on the design like it’s her lifeline enough that she musters some kind of look of feigned offense.

“I take that as a no,” he says.

Instead of answering, Marinette dumps her face flat softly against the desk. She realises all too quickly that this action in of itself is an answer.

“Okay.” Nino pulls himself up swiftly, hands clasped together the way it always is when he has a plan, “You look like you’re in the middle of a mid-life crisis at 21 and it’s just way too early for that. Get up, get dressed, put your hair up or whatever. We’re going to a party.”

Marinette grumbles. The idea, like every Nino idea, is perfectly acceptable, logical and has more than enough, the right intentions. It’s the execution, Marinette knows, that falters. Like how in kindergarten, he’d tell his best friend as their mothers shopped in IKEA that it was cool--yes, very cool!--to play hide and seek beyond the safety of the children’s play area, hiding away from the watch of the employees. It was practically genius to 6-year-old Marinette. Running away from boring IKEA-themed adults? Acceptable! Hide-and-Seek, the most thrilling game of century in a big area with lots of spaces to hide? Logical! Marinette and Nino had been bored out of their minds, un-enticed by the disgrace of a ball pit? The right intentions! It had been 15 IKEA employees yelling out the two children’s names for an hour later as they giggled away that had caused the fiasco to turn out to seem like Not Such a Genius Idea. The aftermath of their mothers’ disapproving faces had been another reminder.

‘Nino.” Marinette begins, “There’s a pros and cons list already made for that idea and I hate to tell you this, but there’s not a lot of pros.”

Nino considers this for a moment like he hasn’t already made up his mind. “There’s not a lot of cons either.”

The list is empty, Marinette says in their comfortable silence. Just like my head right now.

“Stop this.” Nino urges, “You need to get out. My best friend needs to come to this stupid rich kid party with me, eat a bunch of rich kid snacks and drink rich kids’ booze and live in the moment instead of looking like she’s about to go MMA on her computer”

Marinette doesn’t hate the idea of a party. She isn’t even opposed to them at all. Even art kids like her need their fair share of big gulps of gross alcohol and badly executed dances. But she also knows the only party of actual prominence tonight is Adrien Agreste’s, the golden boy of the Golden Trio. She thinks she might not like to throw up in his mansion or take up any form of social interaction when the exciting topic of Maroon vs. Not Maroon is the only thing on her mind.

In the time she took to contemplate this, Nina had dug out a pair of her black jeans and a halter top. He throws the clothing at her and she knows he has hit his target when she feels the material on the back of her head.

Marinette sighs the heaviest of sighs and Nino rolls his eyes. “Mari, you’re not dying.”

“Sure am.”

Like some kind of protest, he blasts some random 90s hit over the speakers from his phone. Marinette looks up, eyes already hazy and takes another bite of the pizza. Sixpence None the Richer blares like it’s trying to actually etch itself to Marinette’s ears. Nino joins in the verse but he’s kind of shrieking the way Marinette knows he does when he’s purposely trying to piss off the Choir teachers. Marinette stifles a laugh, then immediately groans.

God, rich booze really better be good.

-

His party is Very Good, Adrien intelligently evaluates this to himself. He’s in the middle of the dancefloor that’s really just his oversized living room, red solo cup to his lips. He’s not exactly sure what he’s drinking but he is sure it’s primarily responsible for the bubble of misplaced happiness to his body. He’s just a little hazy and deliriously warm and what the fuck is he drinking again? He dances between great friends, good friends, friends and not-friends-but-will-be-friends. Many eyes light up to his face in recognition, he happily recalls. The joys of being the host, he sighs in what he hopes is content.

The mansion is packed the way Adrien likes it when it’s a party--his party. It’s to blare out the loneliness inside these walls, the thought trespasses his mind. He frowns at it and systematically tucks it away in the space of gulping down all of his whatever-it-is drink and chatting to whoever is on his right. The wide-eyed girl smiles at him, polite and yet eager. He recognises her as part of Chloe’s cheer squad and she looks quite pretty tucking her hair behind her ears. Yes, very pretty! Is that pink eyeshadow on her? Adrien thinks it might be purple. They talk for a spare few minutes, slowing their movements a little. Adrien’s not entirely following whatever it is they’re supposed to be talking about it, but he knows he’s flashing his Good Smile and she’s flashing her Good Smile. And they look very nice, even! Yes! Wait, he halts, wait what?

“Agreste, you dumbass.” Adrien registers the voice as one Alya Cesaire but he’s not as quick to register the pull from the back of his jacket.

He’s dragged without grace across the other side of the room where the bar is set up, the crowd had parted like the knowing red sea with people laughing at his demise. Adrien’s arms flail in some kind of attempt to pull away from Alya’s force but he quickly becomes aware it makes him look like he’s drowning horizontally on dry land.

“Hang on there Adrien!” he hears Rose squeak but he can tell she’s grinning.

When Alya arrives at her destination, he finds Chloe perched on the barstool, chuckling at him. “What are you doing flirting with one of my girls?”

He feels a little caught in some kind of invisible lie. “Am not!”

Unfortunately, his voice squeaks the way it always does when he’s in a (drunk!) childish fit of defense. His knees wobble and Adrien wonders when jelly became a substitute for his knees? Did he authorise that? Alya and Chloe’s laughs almost thunder throughout the room, probably threatening to break walls.

“You sound like a 3-year-old caught in a lie.” Chloe snorts. Almost as if embracing this proposed age, Adrien pouts and sticks out his tongue. It’s stained red from his whatever-it-is drink. Has he been drinking wine? God, what is he? Above thirty?

“Yeah, yeah. Not all of us wanna make out with our true love every 5 minutes.” he places his cup to the bar, motioning for the bartender to refill a drink. The man raises an eyebrow, asking what he’d like before Adrien says whatever is alright. In fact, he has been drinking whatever the whole night so he might as well continue. “Not all of us have found it either.”

“Don’t be so poetic in your own party.” Alya feigns disgust, “Call Aristotle or whatever. Make him do the labour. Your stuff is terrible.

“My stuff,” Adrien tries not to slur, “is very, very, very good.”

“He sounds very convincing.” Juleka nods as she approaches. She takes a sip of her drink and in an act Adrien can only recall as an angelic move, she places a hand on his shoulder to stop him from the very bad consequences of his Knee Wobbling Fiasco. “Hold on there, buddy. The night has barely started.”

“You’d think Adrien would make it as a good act for the Debate Club?” Rose giggles beside her.

Chloe smirks, ‘You should register him now whilst he thinks his material is very, very, very good.”

The warm round of laughter from the circle erupts from this and Adrien delivers several glares to Chloe that they both know are just empty threats. He likes that everyone is having a good time, likes the obnoxious blare of music over the speakers and the familiar touch of everyone around the room he’s known.

“Adrien!” a voice bellows from the crowd. Adrien’s reflexes are painfully slow thanks to his whatever booze but he turns his head to spot the familiar figure, headphones on his neck. Nino always makes it easy to recognise Nino that way.

“My man!” Adrien drunkenly skips towards Nino, lunges his body weight at him. Nino somehow manages to handle the force of his bear hug and laughs, his body vibrating with it.

“How have you been?”

Adrien does not answer this question. Instead, he cries, “Nino, what the hell! Where have you been, man! It’s been, like, days! Without you, man! Without you!”

The group behind them laugh at Adrien’s speech, but Adrien is having trouble comprehending why. It’s been 2 days without his good friend! 2 whole days! He hopes the misery seeps out of him so they can understand his pain. 2 whole days!

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re drinking but it’s either that good, or you’ve overestimated how much you can handle. Again.” Nino grins, tries to position Adrien to stand. Adrien falls back to his arms like his body is lifeless. Was it? It sorta felt like it was.

“I am very good.” Adrien announces. He’s not sure who at.

“Don’t listen to his dumb ass.” Chloe laughs, “Have a seat with us, Lahiffe.”

She motions at an open seat near the bar. Nino smiles but his eyes flicker back to the crowd. He glances to Adrien, pulls a look like he’s going to say something mildly serious.

Nino slows his speech as if to consider Adrien’s quickly deteriorating brain cells. Adrien’s honestly grateful for it. ‘Hey, I’ve actually got a friend I’ve dragged along I’d like you guys to meet. Hope you don’t mind the plus-one, Adrien.”

No, Adrien doesn’t mind at all! Absolutely not! He wishes he could say something intelligent like ‘Of course I don’t mind! I’m happy for my huge ass hollow mansion to be filled up to suppress a bad ache of my loneliness!’. Or maybe he shouldn’t. So Adrien just shakes his head violently.

Nino smiles as if it completes his resolve. He leans Adrien’s body back to Juleka’s sturdy arms.

“Great. I’ll be back!” he wades his way into the crowd, the heap of bodies like some kind of transcendent disco-themed sea. Adrien takes a sip of his new--and hopefully improved?--whatever-it-is drink, hates it, then takes another sip.

-

Marinette remembers the order. Stay here for a sec, Nino had said, I need to talk to someone. What she’s not as diligent about is following through with it. Like a bad juxtaposition, she thinks, sipping through this party’s Rich Beer in her hand. It’s warm and fuzzy despite the unorthodox taste it leaves, maybe that’s the intended effect of Rich Kid Expensive Beer? But anyway, this bad juxtaposition weighs in on her. She’s hit with a weird pang of guilt over Not Following through with Nino’s orders. It’s not Acceptable (she’s broken an order), nor Logical (why is she wandering around in the gigantic space of this mansion where she can easily get lost amongst its weird sea of too many bathrooms?), nor does it have good intentions (she’s only helplessly so interested in the paintings surrounding the quieter hallways in this half drunken state).

Well, it’s not bad intentions, she debates, but it’s not Great Intentions. Marinette settles to herself that it’s Marinette Intentions, like that’ll help her explain this very reason of wandering around so clearly tomorrow. Nino will probably say something like what the fuck and then he’ll Not Get Mad at her because he knows pretty paintings are pretty paintings and anyway, why the fuck does Adrien Agreste have so many paintings? He doesn’t even paint! Never even been to a Studio Arts class! Never even suffered over Colour Theory or Composition or bad oil paint stains that go on perfectly good shirts that never come off even after, like, years of the laundry! Never even contemplated the deep distinction between maroon and not maroon! Marinette huffs and she thinks it’s one of her angry huffs.

Marinette thinks she’s okay with maybe swimming back into the sea of bodies, finding a pretty thing to flirt with and make out with for no particular reason for the night before she’ll slink back home. She’ll call an Uber and drunkenly recall the events to an indifferent and kind therapist of an Uber driver. She thinks it’s okay, yes it’s okay. She looks sufficient tonight, her lips are very glossy, very kissable, very capable of speaking to her future Uber driver. Her eyelids are heaped with a mauve shade, and Nino’s choice combination of clothing turned out well because he’s spent 19 years enough with her to recall whatever she says is ugly and not ugly.

But Marinette stares a little listlessly at the near blank hallways of the mansion. It nearly amazes her that despite it feeling like the world’s population was at Agreste’ front door, his mansion still seemed to have room. She waits for the wave of resolution to settle to her body, ending at the tips of her toes as to signal her feet to start moving in the desired direction. But it never does. Marinette sips the weird beer and takes this as a sign to stay in the dim of the hallways. Her eyes linger back on the painting in front of her, encased in a golden frame like it was a cliche. The acrylic sea stares back at her like the challenge her computer screen had once presented only a few hours ago.

Okay, Adrien Agreste’s house paintings, two can play that game.

-

Adrien’s footsteps carry the weight of the world. He’s pretty sure that’s not how gravity is supposed to feel like but in this state, he doesn’t really think physics is a concept he can grasp altogether. He had thought mindless dancing would ease his mind, make his body feel light as he tiptoes through the crowd. He sways along with the heat of bodies and he thinks maybe next time he’d like to hire a live weatherman in one of these parties to announce the approximate amount of degrees which he thinks right about now is nearing a million?

He’s dizzy, blissed-out like it hasn’t only been two hours into the party. His mouth feels like it’s on fire and drier than a desert at the same time. He’d chat to anyone who’d even so much as give him half a second of eye contact. He compliments something of anyone’s outfit and they’d say something like great party or Adrien get some damn water and then he’d flash his big megawatt smile reserved for nights like this or in daylight walking in the halls of the university like he’s shooting a never-ending commercial. If Chloe and Alya were concerned, they’d decided to voice their concerns for a later date and let him have his drunken fun.

For some ungodly reason, his mind rewinds to today’s events. Find true love to judge true love. Chloe’s voice strikes thunders in the thick of his cluttered haze. He grimaces, a little fondly. It’s one of those lines Chloe says without any real depth to it but he’s pretty sure the true love part has some weight on her part. Adrien sweats a little (or a lot?), thinks about Kagami for what feels like only a quarter of a second and then suddenly, several million years. He hadn’t let the ground beneath them turn solid, she hadn’t done the same either. So they’d just float in midair, aware they had nothing to land back on just like how he wants to feel weightless in this bulk of a crowd.

He’d kiss her once, in something like one of these parties. She’d return the favour back and it’d seem like such a comfortable tangle of lips at the time. His hand on her hip seemed fair, chivalrous, one of those moments of obvious destiny like how princes in Disney movies had no hesitation once they’d found their princesses. Once their lips parted, it was only then that he could hear the good-natured rumble of cheers surrounding them. Chloe had rolled her eyes, muttered something like I can’t believe you took that long, Adrien and Adrien had agreed on the statement. He’d grin so wide, the muscles on his mouth were a little tired of him. But Kagami’s eyes had been wide and curious and her teeth showed in her loosened smile so Adrien concluded that it had been so very worth it.

But then Kagami had sat down on his couch weeks later, shifting like she was not so sure of the space. As if the air inside was slightly suffocating despite the huge expanse of his second living room. Before her lips had open to speak, her eyes had already performed flutters of apology. Adrien thinks its almost pity but he’d shoved that feeling deep into the back of his mind before it could pose itself as a hazard to his psyche. She says what Adrien recalls as a blur of words. Sentences Adrien had heard loud and clear because Kagami’s voice was fit for presidential speeches or whatever, but were awfully disjointed like an awkward farrago. She hadn’t been sure, hadn’t thought it out, didn’t think it could work out in the midst of their schedules and oh Adrien, it’s not your fault but mine.

Adrien hadn’t processed anything, instead, he’d just theorised that the walls inside had somehow shrunk to the size of his body, squeezing the air out of his lungs. But he’d say things like it’s okay (it wasn’t), he’d thought the same (he hadn’t) and that he hopes they’d remain good friends. They did, in fact, remain good friends. Threateningly so. Then before he could blink twice, she’d jetted off to some lucrative fencing championship for the next 6 months like her life had been strictly scheduled to break his heart for one minute and be whisked away the next. The news of the breakup had circled ruthlessly throughout the entire student body within a matter of hours and Chloe had taken it upon herself to act as his publicist, telling everyone to leave him alone and yes, he’s going through a breakup-themed Spotify playlist, yes, he’d really like his privacy respected at the moment and no Nathaniel, he can’t share his Spotify playlist publicly go make your own

Alya, Chloe and him had raided the liquor cabinet that night like they would die the next day. Alya had ordered an obscene amount of pizza and Chinese takeaway. He wasn’t sure what the end goal was but between giant gulps of noodles, ice cream and diet coke (kind of disgusting), he concluded his friends had hoped he could also gulp away the sadness along with it. Well, he succeeded nonetheless. The next day he’d skipped along a path after classes, looked up to fervour of the orange-tinted sky and hadn’t thought back to Kagami’s eyes like he had been doing for weeks.

Kagami had been stored in the attic of Adrien’s mind, dusted and intentionally forgotten for some nice 4 months. But now she’s being unceremoniously summoned from the attic, in the midst of his dance floor and onto the pits of his mind’s living room. He holds a breath, a little more than worried that if he thinks about her any longer, she might also physically manifest in his actual living room which he honestly doesn’t think is a very good idea at the moment because he might involuntarily throw up on her.

Adrien thinks he can hear Alya’s voice faintly calling his name which is a miracle amongst the thunder of Ariana Grande over the speakers and fifty billion voices all at once. Without much thought to it, his lips linger back to his drink. The liquid burns down his throat like its matching the heat of the room. Ah yes, a billion degrees and perhaps more. He’d like to not think about Kagami at the moment, or any moments really. But once she’s out Adrien’s psychological attic, he finds it hard to stuff her back somewhere else. So he ignores Alya’s siren calls, twists his body the opposite direction and allows his feet to lead him to the better comforts of his bedroom. He stumbles on his way and knows he looks a bit like an idiot but he thinks his destination will make it worth it. Yes, well, it has to.

-

This room was too big. Much, much too big. Marinette doesn’t like being all too judgemental of anything. She likes to think that’s a result of her and Nino’s friendship and how Nino's face doesn’t really alter to the news of Marinette not sleeping for 48 hours doing designs. Instead, he’ll do something like quietly pull a blanket to her soulless body sprawled on her couch and confiscate the coffee away for three days. She likes to return the favour of understanding, not just to Nino but everyone else. But this room, she thinks, is far beyond the reach of her understanding. Marinette stares at the glass chandelier perched along with the high ceiling and doesn’t think she’d like to calculate if it alone could pay her entire school tuition.

She’d wandered aimlessly throughout the endless hallways, the voices of the crowd echoing behind her now mere whispers in the face of her indifference. She blames the alcohol but then again, she always does and really that wasn’t fair to the paintings which were the real cause of her spiralling away. If Marinette were sober, she thinks she might not enter strangers’ bedroom and judge them for their ridiculous size. But she wasn’t and now she freely saunters around like this room and her are more than familiar with each other. The king-sized bed, she notes, looks like something straight from a home decor magazine. Office space is set up opposite to the bed and it must undeniably have been occupying someone’s stress because papers cover the whole of the area without arrangement. Marinette can hear the faint boom of Top 40 music from outside and she thinks the sound resonates with the thunder of ocean tides crashing and falling much like the rise and fall of her own breath when she spots the easel perched near the bedroom balcony. Curious, Marinette strides like her body is actually co-operating with her. Placing her bottle on a table nearby, she inspects like she’s meant to be doing it.

The canvas is blank but the supplies were neatly arranged along the table. The space feels frozen in time, like someone had paused just as they were to begin and never quite gotten to resume. Clumsily left on the paint tray are different shades of oil paints, untouched and lonely. Cleaned brushes are nearby like they’re new and upon closer inspection, Marinette realises they are. Marinette inhales, breaths in the familiar scent of turpentine she’d recognised from years of sitting in a Studio Arts classroom next to Nathaniel. She’s no painter, not like she was before, but she’s more than proficient in traditional painting because of the required classes. Marinette sits on the stool and feels invited in it despite the clear lack of welcome of the entire room.

And because of the sudden invitation, in some swift movement she doesn’t at all recall, she picks up a brush, ruthlessly dabs it into the bright flush of a red and smears it across it the innocent canvas without regal.

“Fuck.” she says out loud as soon as the paint meets the canvas. Oh shit.

Oh shit, shit, shit. The mournful scarlet streak is right in front of her, bright as day in evidence and though its a colour, Marinette can’t help but think it’s screaming. The panic bubbles like champagne in her stomach but suddenly, just as champagne does, it settles into a fuzzy ease. Marinette laughs loud to herself. Fuck it.

Marinette ditches her reflex to set the brush down and instead dabs a little of the red back into the canvas, marks the colour again in another direction like it has a purpose. The more the hair of the brush streaks the colour along, the more the colour sings to Marinette’s face instead of its shrill screech. Over time, the colours bloom until Marinette hears the canvas perform a complete melody enough that it rivals the roar of waves outside.

- 

The thud is enough to knock Marinette out of her paint splatter of a state, she turns her head to the direction of the door and hears a muffle or two of a deep voice. The panic settles back into her body and unfortunately, she realises, it’s panic alone and there’s no champagne mixed in. Several thuds ensue by the time Marinette has scrambled to her feet; brush, paint and melody are long forgotten as she drops it to the table.

An escape route, yes, she needs an escape route. Yes, now. What about her drink? Oh God, her booze. Marinette furrows an eyebrow, seizes her bottle from the table and mindlessly gulps down the rest of the bottle’s content. Yes! Beer! Alcohol! Wait? No! She doesn’t have time for this shit! Marinette looks again to the enormous chandelier, sincerely wishing the billion carat diamond form of it all would just fall on her head, knocking her out. Instead, she scans the ground, grimaces as she ducks down low undignified and crawls to the bottom of the Instyle-looking king-sized bed. She’s thinking if the chandelier does actually plan on killing her, the bed might just be her salvation.

The door opens wide and the volume from outside adjusts to something loud and obnoxious. Marinette spots the Nike shoes thudding its way across the room and simultaneously calculates the price of the medical bill she’ll have to face if her heart doesn’t stop drumming violently against her chest. The figure paces around the room like it’s just as curious as she once was. A moment passes before the sound of the creak from the bottom of the bed rings in Marinette’s ears as the person lands on top. Her throat threatens to squeak out a sound in surprise before she suppresses it.

Marinette thinks if she wasn’t the one in her position, she might find all of this awfully funny. But because she’s the one in her position, Marinette eyes the opened door. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, she could just crawl, go into some kind of lizard mode that her 3-year-old self had prepared her for anyway. The fact that she’s drunk is making the plan sound a lot like a Nino Plan and the fact that it sounds like a Nino Plan has Marinette itching to execute it as not badly as possible. She waits for a prolonged five minutes before she dares to move a muscle. Four minutes later, she hears the faint sound of snoring and is fucking grateful for it.

She executes the plan, wills herself to crawl her way through the spotless carpet in silence. Arms extending out as she slithers her way, the noise outside gets louder with every inch closer to the door. By the time she reaches it, her body moves at the pace of a ghost as she heaves herself up in excruciating slow motion. Marinette doesn’t take a chance, doesn’t turn her head in the case she might make some unintended noise. Instead, she takes a slow breath in, treads lightly back outside and hears the echo of the waves from the narrow hallways.

- 

Nino reprimands her in the Uber. He also kind of does it in the dancefloor when he’d found her and nearly knocked several bottles over as he trudged his way over her drunken ass screaming the lyrics to Selena Gomez. He’d said something like what the fuck Marinette and she’d wailed out the second verse of Selena Gomez’ song in response. It’s a bad Selena Gomez themed haze from then on and Marinette does not remember anything beyond the audible thump of her own body in the back of the Uber whilst she makes out Nino apologising profusely to the driver. She bawls a little at this.

“No!” she hiccups, once or twice, “Wheeeere are we goiiiing?”

Nino turns his head from the passenger seat and Marinette thinks he’s going to say something disapproving again but he just chuckles. “We’re going home.”

Marinette thinks she does not like to be laughed at. “Nooooooo.”

God! She hadn’t even been kissed! Hadn’t even made out with anyone! Marinette places a light finger to her lips and mourns the lack of a kiss to her lips. That was so illegal! “I am very kissable!”

Nino just laughs again, “Find anyone to be very kissable with?”

Marinette narrows her eyebrows. Huh. Did she? She doesn’t recall a single kissable lip on her. A goddamned shame. God, what had she been doing? She was very kissable, damnit! What the hell was she doing not being kissed?

Marinette’s mind wanders to important things like puff pastries and croissants. She was over this night, she hadn’t been kissed and if she had been, it must've have been so bland her mind just threw the damn memory away. So Marinette hums a tune in blissful peace, wonders what she might do tomorrow about her maroon vs. re-

“Stop the car, I’m going to throw up.” Marinette chokes out. From the rearview mirror, the Uber driver just sort of sighs like he might throw up too.

The flash of red lingers its way back into Marinette’s mind at the speed of lightning or thunder or motorcycles or something dangerous and clearly over the speed limit. A Lamborghini probably. The blank canvas and how not very blank it was in its state in Adrien Agreste’s house. In the midst of her alcohol scented mist, the image of the painting taunts her. The hour of painting had seemed so far away like it was months ago and oh God, Marinette was going to go to prison for trespassing or something. She’ll go to prison and wear a bad shade of orange like it’s some kind of sick punishment for the array of colours she’d slashed mercilessly across the canvas.

“Oh my god.” she whispers to herself. “Shit.”

The car reluctantly stops near the side of the road. Marinette yanks open the car door, ducks her head down low and does, indeed, throw up.